T heo remained on the floor, his cheek pressed to the carpet. His head was throbbing from Falcon’s blow.
It had been a good half hour since Falcon had removed the pillowcase from the girl’s head, but her breathing was still shallow and rapid. It seemed that she just couldn’t get enough air. Fear could do that to a person. At least Theo hoped it was fear. This was neither the time nor the place for a real medical emergency.
Theo was still staring at those shoes on the bathroom floor. They had twitched once or twice, but the person behind the closed door was doing an impressive job of remaining absolutely still and quiet. Theo wondered if he should try to make contact with him-he assumed it was a him, based on the shoes.
Falcon continued to pace furiously, practically wearing a path in the carpet. Had he sat for just a moment, or taken a position at the window, that would have been Theo’s chance to slip a whisper through the slat beneath the door: “Tap your foot once if you’re alone. Tap twice if you have a gun.” Theo wasn’t the type to sit around and wait for someone else to solve his problems. But if he was going to make a move against Falcon, he needed to know who was on his side, whether they could be of any help, or whether they’d just be in the way. As it was, Theo could only wait for the right opportunity.
“Relax, why don’t you?” Theo told his captor.
Falcon ignored him. His lips were moving furiously. The guy was deep in conversation, perhaps rehearsing his lines, perhaps fighting off the demons in his head.
“Dude, give it a rest,” said Theo.
Falcon stopped, looked down at Theo, and pointed the gun at his knee. “You interrupt me one more time, and you’ll be setting off metal detectors for the rest of your life. You understand me?”
Had Theo been just a foot closer, he could have hooked Falcon behind the knee and brought him to the floor with a roundhouse kick. But then what? Theo’s hands were bound behind his waist, the girl beside him was tied up, and Theo had no way of knowing whether the guy who was hiding in the bathroom would come out to help or sit tight and let Falcon shoot them. Theo said, “Yeah, I understand you.”
“Good. Now get up off the floor.”
Theo didn’t move. It gave him a sinking feeling, the thought of breaking off any chance to communicate with the man in the bathroom.
“Now! Up against the wall, next to the girl.”
Slowly, Theo complied. It was just as well. He’d seen enough cop shows on television to know that the two most dangerous points in time for hostages were right off the bat, at the taking, and later, when someone tried to escape. It was like flying: takeoffs and landings accounted for ninety-nine percent of the fatalities. They’d made it through the takeoff, so to speak. Halfway home. He needed a plan of attack, not a knee-jerk reaction, if they were going to bring this baby home for a safe landing. Until he had a game plan, it was a virtual certainty that all hell would break loose when that bathroom door opened.
“I have to pee,” the girl said.
“Hold it,” said Falcon.
Damn straight, cross your legs, thought Theo.
“I can’t. I’ve been holding it for two hours. Please, just let me go to the bathroom.”
Falcon made a face. “All right. I’ll let you use the bathroom. But if you try anything,” he said, aiming the gun to Theo’s head, “the black guy gets it. Comprende?”
She nodded.
Beautiful, thought Theo. Just beautiful.
The phone rang. Theo recognized the ring as his own, but his cell phone was in Falcon’s pocket. Falcon froze. The pulsing ring continued. Three times. A fourth.
“You gonna answer that?” said Theo.
It rang a fifth time, then a sixth. A chime followed-way too cheery-sounding for the circumstances-indicating that the unanswered call was going to voice mail. Falcon stood frozen, as if paralyzed with indecision.
At the front of the room, the opening above the drapes suddenly brightened. The cops had switched on a spotlight in the parking lot. Theo heard the click of a public address system outside, then an amplified voice that sounded almost mechanical.
“Falcon, it’s me. Vince Paulo. I’m dialing again. Answer the phone, please.”
There was utter silence for thirty seconds. No one moved.
Then the phone started to ring again.
“IF HE DOESN’T answer this time,” said Chavez, “it’s time to start thinking about a breach.”
A breach meant a forced entry. Vince wasn’t ready to go there yet. “He’ll answer.”
He waited in the silence of the cool night air, precious seconds ticking away with each hollow, unanswered ring of the telephone. The call went to the sixth ring, and then Theo’s voice-mail message came again. Vince ended the call.
“How much longer do you intend to keep this up?” said Chavez.
“It’s early. I know this guy. It takes a while to get him talking.”
“How long can you stay sharp without sleep?”
It was a fair question, but it suddenly had Vince wondering about his medication. It was back at his house. Even if he’d brought it with him, he couldn’t take it, since it made him sleepy. Antidepressants, however, weren’t something to stop cold-turkey. He hadn’t missed a dose since starting the prescription six months ago. One night would probably be okay. But what if this standoff stretched into two? Or three? Or longer? “I’ll let you know when it’s time to make a change.”
“They could all be dead in there already,” said Chavez. “I think you should get on the PA again and tell him to answer the phone or we’re coming in.”
“Let’s hold off on the threats, okay?” Vince redialed the number. This time, the phone rang three times and stopped, but there was only silence on the line. Vince gripped the receiver a little tighter. “Falcon, are you there?” No one answered, but the line was definitely open. “Falcon, this is Vince Paulo.”
“What do you want?”
Vince tried not to sound too happy to have a voice on the line. “Just checking in. Wanted to make sure everything is okay.”
“Passable. I would have liked a view of the swimming pool, but what can you expect without a reservation?”
A sense of humor was a good sign. Guys on the edge rarely cracked a joke. “Are you hungry?” said Vince.
“I live in a car, remember, asshole? I been hungry for eleven years.”
“We could get you some food. How about some burgers?”
“Sounds good.”
“How many?”
“Two. Some french fries, too.”
“How about for the rest of the gang?”
“Sure. Bring some for them, too.”
“How many burgers we talking about then?”
“I don’t know. Bring two more.”
“One for each of them?”
“Yeah. One apiece. That’s enough.”
Vince raised two fingers, signaling to the others. He’d confirmed it: two hostages inside, no more. “Okay, that’s four burgers and some french fries. I’ll throw in some drinks, too. But you know how this works, Falcon. We’ve done this before. My boss won’t let me give you something for nothing.”
“I can pay for it. Just as soon as Swyteck brings me my money.”
Vince had to handle this one carefully. Sooner or later they needed to address the missing money, but this negotiation was doomed if he didn’t let Falcon know straight up that he couldn’t just send his lawyer out for cash and then buy whatever he needed. “It’s not a matter of money, Falcon. Why don’t you let the hostages go?”
“Why don’t you stop talking shit?”
“This is not doing any of us any good, Falcon. I can’t help you with innocent people at gunpoint.”
“I’m not letting them go.”
“I can understand how you might think that way, but let me be straight with you. This is not a threat. All I’m trying to do is give you an accurate picture of what’s going on out here. The police have surrounded the entire building. There are City of Miami cops here. Miami-Dade Police Department is here, too. They have shut down the entire neighborhood. Escape is not an option. So let’s make a deal here and now, all right? You don’t try an escape, I don’t send in the SWAT. We cool with that?”
Falcon didn’t answer. Vince saw that as a good sign. Immediate rejection punctuated with profanity would have been a bad sign. “I understand you have a woman in there with you. Is that right?”
Still no answer.
“Can you tell us her name?” Vince waited, but he got no reply. “Maybe you don’t know her name. Why don’t you ask her and tell us?”
“Sure thing,” said Falcon. The ensuing silence was long enough for Vince to build up hope that Falcon had covered the mouthpiece and was actually speaking to his hostage.
“She says her name is Amelia Earhart, and she wants to talk to Geraldo.”
Geraldo? thought Vince. Obviously, he hadn’t watched television lately. “That’s a good one, Falcon. But it’s important for us to know her name.”
“I told you enough already.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. You just take your time and think about what I said before. And think hard about letting those hostages go. It would count for a lot if you did, Falcon. Judges like it when you show some goodwill.”
“Who the hell are you to be talking about goodwill? You told me to come down from the bridge and I could talk to Alicia Mendoza. That didn’t happen, did it, Paulo?”
“Things are going to be handled different this time.”
“No they aren’t. You lied then, and you’ll lie again this time.”
The mood swing was startling. Vince had to bring back that guy with the sense of humor who answered the phone. “I won’t lie to you.”
“Like hell you won’t. Liars always lie. And you are a total liar!”
“Falcon, come on, man.”
“Just bring me my food and stop jerking me around.”
“I’ll call you just as soon as it gets here.”
“No, don’t you ever call me again. I don’t want no cops calling me. The next voice I hear on this line better be Jack Swyteck telling me he’s got my money.”
“What about the food?”
“I just want my money.”
“Calm down, okay?”
“Don’t you be telling me to calm down! I’m in control here, not you.”
“Let’s work this out together.”
“Together, my ass!”
“You’ve got two hostages. Why not let one go?”
“I ain’t letting nobody go.”
“Falcon, listen to me. Let one of the hostages go, and you can talk to Swyteck. You don’t need two hostages. You only need one.”
“That’s exactly right. All I need is one. So get me Swyteck, and bring me my money, or someone’s gonna die over here long before the battery on this phone ever does.”
Falcon disconnected. Vince couldn’t see the expressions on the faces around him, but he didn’t need to.
“You okay?” said Chavez.
Vince felt his hand shaking just a bit as he put the phone down. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“What now?”
Vince said, “I can’t call him again without Swyteck standing by. As soon as his plane lands, let’s get him here. ASAP.”
C an I please use the bathroom now?” she said.
The renewed plea from his fellow hostage made Theo cringe. Watching Falcon’s meltdown in the middle of a phone conversation with the negotiator should have been more than enough to take her mind off of her bladder. Theo couldn’t understand why she would say something to provoke him now. Either she was really stupid, or she really had to go. Or maybe, it suddenly occurred to him, she had a plan of her own.
She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, right beside Theo. He guessed she was nineteen, maybe twenty, but she was wearing way too much makeup, so it was difficult to tell. She was definitely Latin, with pretty features and a classic, heart-shaped face. Her getup, however, was strictly about sex appeal. Big gold-hoop earrings played against her olive skin and her long, chestnut hair. Her breasts were neither large nor small, but the contraption she was wearing beneath her low-cut blouse had pinched the B-cups together and nearly pushed them up to her chin. The deep red lipstick and heavy eye shadow were the perfect complement to her tight skirt, black heels, and fishnet stockings. Theo didn’t like to judge people, but he knew he wasn’t holed up with a nun.
“I need to go,” she said. “I need to go now.”
“Shut up!” said Falcon. “No one’s going anywhere!”
“I meant to the bathroom.”
Her response didn’t seem to register with Falcon. He had a vacant look in his eyes, as if part of him had just checked out. “You can’t drink now,” he said.
“I don’t want a drink. I need to use the bathroom.”
“It’s too soon.”
“In thirty seconds, it will be too late.”
“If you drink now, you’ll die.”
She and Theo exchanged uneasy glances. Falcon was speaking to the young woman, but it was as if he were having another conversation.
“What are you talking about?” she said in a tentative voice.
Falcon started to pace-not the slow, peripatetic movements of a man in contemplation, but a relentless and angry back-and-forth, from one side of the room to the other. “Just shut up, shut up!” he said, slapping his left ear with one hand, clutching the gun with the other. It was the most agitated Theo had seen him since the standoff’s beginning. Neither he nor the young woman said a word.
“Quit your damn whining,” said Falcon. “Ask the doctor. He’ll tell you. If you drink water now, you’ll die. Do you hear me? You’ll just die on me! Is that what you want to happen?”
They weren’t sure if Falcon wanted a response, so they were silent.
“Answer me! Is that what you want?”
She shrank against the wall, as if wishing that she could just disappear. It was a scary situation to begin with, and his harsh tone was clearly pushing her to the edge. Theo said, “Leave her alone.”
“What did you say?” Falcon said sharply.
“I said leave her alone.”
“Qué es su número?”
“Say what?”
“Qué es su número?”
“I don’t speak Spanish, man.”
The Latina whispered through her teeth to Theo, her lips barely moving. “He wants to know your number.”
“What number? You mean my phone number?”
“No, no!” shouted Falcon. “Su número!”
“I got no idea what you’re talking about, dude.”
His eyes filled with rage. He pointed his gun at the woman. “You want me to shoot the bitch? Do you?”
“I don’t want you to shoot nobody.”
“Then why do you make me do these things? Why?”
“No one’s making you do nothin’,” said Theo. “Everybody’s cool.”
“I don’t care if you’re thirsty. Do you want to die? Is that it?”
“I said it’s cool, dude,” said Theo. “Ain’t nobody here who wants to die.”
“Because giving her water right now would be just like squeezing this trigger and putting a bullet between her eyes. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He might as well have been speaking Spanish again. Or Chinese. “Makes perfect sense to me. No problem. Whatever you say, we’re cool with it.”
“Maybe you just wish you were dead. Is that it? Do you think you’d be better off dead?”
Theo said, “Hey, here’s an idea. Just forget the water, the bathroom, and whatever else it is that’s got you pissed. Forget everything she said. Okay, boss?”
Falcon kept pacing. A mixture of tension and confusion hung in the air. In the dimly lit room, and under these trying circumstances, it would have been difficult to read anyone’s expression. Not even Sigmund Freud, however, could have made heads or tails of this character and this outburst. Did Falcon hear what they were saying and simply misinterpret their words? Or did the sound of their voices trigger entirely distinct and distant voices inside his head? Theo wasn’t sure.
Falcon stepped away from them, shaking his head in disgust. “You know what? Go ahead and drink the damn water. See if I care.” He began to pace again.
Theo made eye contact with the young woman beside him, and they came to a silent understanding. This was a bad situation, and it was only deteriorating. It was too dangerous to sit around and wait for rescuers. They had to help themselves.
They needed to enlist that man in the bathroom.
Theo whispered, “What’s your name?”
“Natalia.”
“Okay, Natalia. Does your friend in the bathroom have a gun?”
Falcon wheeled and started toward them. She waited until he crossed the room, made the turn again, and resumed pacing in the other direction, his back toward the hostages. Then she leaned closer to Theo and whispered in a voice that quaked, “I sure hope so.”
THE DOOR TO the police command center opened. The footsteps were too heavy to be Alicia’s. Paulo turned at the approaching sound. Blind for over six months, and sometimes he still wheeled to face whatever it was that startled him, as if he could see it. He wondered when that instinct would leave him, if it would ever leave him completely. “Chavez?” said Paulo.
“Yeah, it’s me. Got Daden on the line from Nassau. He needs to talk to you.” He put the cell phone in Paulo’s hand.
Paulo felt a surge of adrenaline. He needed a fresh angle with Falcon, and he hoped that Daden and the Bahamian connection would supply it. “What do you have for me?” he said into the telephone.
Daden’s voice was hurried, excited. “Fingerprint search on the handwritten note we found in the safe deposit box just came back. There was a match.”
“Who is it?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have a name.”
“You just said there was a match.”
“There was.”
“Then who is it?”
“Last week, when the lab pulled that extraneous print from Officer Mendoza’s compact, they entered it into the FBI’s data bank. Well, that’s our match.”
“Wait a second,” said Paulo. “You’re saying that the person who stole Alicia’s purse from that bar in Coral Gables is the same person who took the money from Falcon’s safe deposit box in the Bahamas?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. That’s what the fingerprint tells us.”
Paulo thought for a moment, wondering if there could have been some kind of mistake. He knew better. “Fingerprints don’t lie,” he said.
“No, sir. They sure don’t.”