Page 20 of Every Last One
She nodded at the team, and Brice nodded back. That voice was the man they’d just heard on the playback. She was on with one of the perps. “This is Sandra,” she said, purposely not rushing to identify herself as FBI. “Who are you?”
“Not born yesterday.”
At least he responded. “Everyone out here is worried about you in there. Is everyone all right?”
“Everyone’s fine. Now get lost.”
“That’s great news. How many are with you on the fourth floor?” She paused, having a feeling she’d lost the guy. The urge was to rush in, but she remained silent, to give him a chance to speak. After a minute, she said, “Hello? Can you hear me?”
Nothing again for another minute.
“He’s gone,” Gibson said. “He either turned off his radio or switched frequencies.”
“I’ll let him be for a few minutes and try again.” While she wanted more details on hissweet insurance,negotiation was a dance. Coming out with the question would have gotten the man’s back up more than it already was.
“At least you made contact with one of the perps on the inside,” Monica said. “And he didn’t deny being on the fourth floor.”
“Still, it’s been a few hours and all we have is this.” Gibson scribbled on the markerboard and pointed at his takeaway.No injuries on the fourth.He wrote that next to the addition ofperps using walkie-talkies to communicate.
Sandra’s mind stuck onperps. “This hostage taker isn’t the shot caller.”
Brice shook his head. “Not with the way that woman barked at him to stick to the plan and get off the radio.”
“If that woman is the shot caller, why didn’t she speak up just now with you there?” Neal asked.
Sandra could think of one explanation. “She’s not ready. If you think about it, they’ve gone to a lot of effort to shut down lines of communication. Not just with a Wi-Fi jammer, but in also wiping out the hospital’s phone system.”
“They’re obviously trying to accomplish something here, but they must realize they need to talk to us for that to happen,” Neal said.
“Unless they don’t,” Sandra served back. “Whatever they are after may be inside those walls. Going dark prevents us from interfering.”
“They can’t expect us to stand around out here forever,” Neal pushed out.
Sandra thought it best not to point out they were likely quite confident they’d be granted some time. There were a lot of lives at risk and no law enforcement agency wanted anything rivaling the Waco Siege of ’93. With that incident everything was handled wrong from the start, and eighty-two people paid with their lives. “I doubt they do. My focus needs to be on how I can get the hostage takers to see that talking to us is their best course of action. I’m going to try again.”
Her attempt was met with failure, and Gibson confirmed there was no radio activity whatsoever. Changing frequencies wouldn’t help. With the clock steadily ticking forward, it was drilled in how the timeline was out of their hands. Many people inside were already ill, in need of medical attention or medication at regular intervals, but they wouldn’t be getting the help they needed. Just like how her brother had died because he hadn’t gotten treatment soon enough. But if it wasn’t for those patients, all the innocent lives, she’d have a tougher challenge in holding off ERT officers from breaching.
ELEVEN
12:15 PM
Gail kept lifting the phone receiver, but every time she did she was met with silence. The line was dead, and her cell phone didn’t have any bars. If that wasn’t unsettling enough, being stuck inside this room was making her claustrophobic. The brightest thing in here was the readout on her daughter’s heart machine. Otherwise, emergency backup lights spread shadows into the corners. “What is going on? Why can’t we call out?”
“I don’t know,” Nurse Torres said, her eyes blank.
Gail couldn’t just stay here while her daughter’s life hung in the balance. She left Phoebe to peek through slots in the blinds out to the hallway. Maybe she could spot a reason for hope that this would be over soon.
“Please, ma’am, get away from there.” Nurse Torres came up behind her and beckoned her away from the window.
“We can’t just be expected to stay holed up in here. I don’t see anything.” A stamp of frustration, like a petulant child, but her nerves were stretched and frayed.
“It doesn’t mean we’re safe, Ms. Chapman. Please.” The nurse came over to her, holding out her hand.
If she expected Gail to take it and step away, she had another think coming.
The heart monitor started beeping wildly. Gail turned to watch in horror as the line spiked and dipped. Phoebe was pale and sweating. “Do something,” Gail begged the nurse.
Torres was already at Phoebe’s side. “She’s arresting, and there’s only one thing that can help her.”
