more and more like someone well versed in law enforcement tactics,” Dace noted grimly.
“Or someone who’s done his homework,” Dr. Ryder put in. “He’s covered every base.”
Skepticism was written on Sharper’s square face. “Hard to believe an LEO would think he could get away with bank robbery.”
“But he has been getting away with it,” Lewis said grimly. “Twelve banks have been hit in a tristate area in the past three months. All have been smaller branches like this one. He’s in and out in under ten minutes. Rough estimates have the take so far at over thirty million.”
Jolie whistled under her breath. Smaller banks would have less cash on hand than their larger counterparts, but they’d also be easier to case. Fewer employees. Lower risk for complications.
Then the full ramification of Lewis’s words struck her. Bank robbery was a federal offense, and if this was one of a series, there was an ongoing investigation. In an undertone, she said to Dace, “How long do you guess we have before the feds step in?”
“I’m sort of surprised they haven’t shown up yet.”
His voice, his expression, was sardonic. He’d never been the Bureau’s biggest fan.
“Have there been any victims in the prior robberies?”
“Three.” Lewis worked a knot out of his shoulder. “So this guy isn’t afraid to leave bodies behind.”
Which was very bad news for them. And even worse for the hostages inside.
The CCL ducked out of the NOC unit to head over to the command center. While he was gone the team added details on the situation board. Using the floor plans of the bank, Johnson showed Sharper the positions of the SWAT personnel. All the known details were drawn in, down to the location of the throw phone. They used sticky notes to add unknowns, like the position of the hostages.
Jolie handed over her list and Sharper started a similar grid on the board.
Lewis returned as they were finishing. Something in his expression alerted Jolie. “We’re arranging to bring in a station wagon to park out front. You know what to do.”
Dace and Jolie exchanged a glance. “What’s the rush?” he asked.
The CCL sat down heavily. “Don’t worry. Mendel is committed to the negotiation process. But the HT has issued two verbal threats and he’s placing a child in danger. We have to be ready to act fast.”
Usually a vehicle was provided only when a tactical resolution was being planned. It caused the HT to leave his surroundings and enter the SWAT team’s controlled environment.
And under any other circumstances, Jolie would be objecting vehemently about rushing the process. But the boy inside being used as a human shield changed things. She still hoped for a peaceful resolution. But she wasn’t going to quibble about being prepared for the alternative.
Of course the HT wasn’t going to be allowed to dictate the terms. There was no way the SUV he’d requested would be brought in. The vehicles were too hard to see into. Had too much interior space. Most likely the station wagon was an older model, and it would be totally messed with. Although the gas tank would show full, it would have very little fuel. The radio would be on full blast, along with the heater, to serve as distractions in case the gunman ever made it to the car.
The likelihood of him getting that far was slim, but every contingency would be planned for.
Next time they established contact with the gunman, they’d work a trade. And since it didn’t seem as though there were any injured inside needing medical assistance, she knew exactly what her priority would be.
“Let’s see if he’ll exchange the boy.”
After a brief hesitation, Dace said quietly, “Of course. But you know he won’t, Jolie. Are you prepared for that?”
She was. Of course she was. The man had found a crudely effective way of ensuring his own survival. It didn’t matter how good the snipers were, there was no way a “weapons loose” command was going to be given with a child blocking a clear head shot. And that was the only guaranteed way to make sure the HT didn’t fire a recoil shot before dropping.
“Chances are he’s carrying a cell. Any number of the hostages probably have them, too. But he didn’t insist I direct further communications to a cell phone, which he could use out of sight, away from the skylights.”
Dace nodded. “He wants us to know what the stakes are. Wants us to see the risk of injury to the boy. This guy has anticipated worst-case scenarios. We already know he’s familiarized himself with LEO procedure. He may be aware that we have the technology to disable the cells once we arrive on the scene.”
Jolie settled back on her chair, determination and dread mingling. Simultaneous realizations occurred. There were going to be far more dangerous complications to this situation than the relationship between her and Dace.
And however it ended, it wasn’t going to be easy.
“You’ve got your vehicle, John.” Dace was still wondering why the HT had asked for him. Jolie had handled the process of lowering the gunman’s expectations from an SUV and talking him through law enforcement’s approach with the vehicle. It had turned into a long, drawn-out procedure. “Keys are in it.”
“Is this your doing, Recker? Pretty far cry from the SUV I asked for, isn’t it?”
“We’re doing the best we can for you here, John. We wanted something with a police radio in it so we could still communicate with you.”
There was a short, harsh laugh. “You probably got the crate right off the police impound lot. Turn it on and leave it running for a few minutes. I want proof it’s in working order. And you still haven’t pulled the perimeter back. Looks like more cops out there than ever.”
“One step at a time. We gave you something you want. Now it’s time for you to reciprocate.”
“I’m not in a giving mood, Recker.” Over four hours had passed since the alarm inside had been pressed. Their intelligence officers had kept track of the movement inside the bank, which had been minimal. Aside from the guard’s body, only the HT and the boy had been seen, and then only when the HT had answered the phone. The other hostages had not been sighted.
Jolie’s conversations with John, however, had also served as a diversion. Tactical had taken the opportunity to affix a listening device to a window at the corner of the building. Now they could hear what was going on inside. At the moment, however, there seemed little to report.
The crowd outside had grown. As soon as the media had gotten wind of what was going down at California National, journalists and TV anchors had descended on the vicinity like a swarm of locusts. The extra LEO personnel had been necessary for crowd control. An information center had been set up, since it was far easier to release controlled information to the media than to risk them trying to sneak closer for an exclusive. No doubt among the ongoing live reporting the talking heads were interspersing commentary from their versions of “experts” of various occupations, giving self-important assessments of the gunman. The hostages. And suggesting endless scenarios for a fascinated public.
Dace wondered if “John”
