The Serpent's Kiss

46

Fred ball gripped the phone and waved to get Officer Tom Medina’s attention. He mouthed “The Serpent’s on the line! FBI!” and started walking in the direction of the Mobile Command Center. Into the phone he said, “How do I know this isn’t a prank? Everybody thinks The Serpent was that FBI agent that just got killed.”

“Then the FBI is just as stupid as I think they are,” The Serpent said. “I’m going to make a statement. Are you prepared to take it?”

Moving quickly now, Medina racing on ahead, Ball said, “I’m recording. But why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

The Serpent continued. “There will be another attack—”

”Where?”

“There will be another attack,” The Serpent continued. “If five million dollars is not wired into account number 84-532-68873-23 at the Bank of Bermuda Limited by 3:45 today, Eastern Standard Time, I will set off another attack.”

“Can you repeat that number?” Ball asked desperately. His heart raced and his hands were sweaty. Ahead, he saw Medina come out of the MCC truck with a female FBI agent and point to him. She sprinted over.

Fumbling in his pocket, Ball yanked out his wallet and flipped it open, showing it to the agent. She looked blankly at it. He tapped the business card. She took it, slipped out the card and held it up, pointing to the cellular phone number printed there. Ball nodded. She disappeared into the van.

“It’s the same account as earlier,” The Serpent said.

“Why are you doing this?” Ball said, hoping he could keep this nut on the line long enough for the FBI to triangulate.

“Five million dollars in that account. By 3:45. Or more people will die at 4:00.”

“Who’s supposed to pay the ransom?” Ball asked. “Before it was Wayne State University. Is that who you want—”

The connection ended.

Ball stared at the phone in his hand. Agent Simona Toreanno appeared at the door of the MCC, eyes wide. “He disconnected?” she asked.

Ball nodded. “Did you get him?”

“Not live,” she said with a shake of her head. “But we’re locking in.” She held a radio to her lips. “Do you have the—”

She listened. “Go!” she said. “Go!”

Above them, the helicopters began to move away, heading south. Ball stared at her.

“Somewhere around the Ren Cen,” she said. She held out her hand. “I need your phone.”

He handed it to her.

“And the tape.”

Ball shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t—”

Toreanno stepped forward. “We’ll make a recording of it for you. But we need that right now. Right now.”

Ball swallowed. He nodded and handed over the tape recorder, wondering if he’d get it back.