Slow Burn, Chapter 12/21

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dina took a deep breath.  Here we go...  “How’s retirement treating you, Chief Grady?”  The man at the window stiffened, and whirled about.  “Or is it ‘ex-Chief’?  I can never remember how that works.”

The ex-chief ripped off his ski mask, sputtering with rage.  “What—how did you—”

Dina cut him off coolly.  “All women have intuition, Mr. Grady.  And so do all reporters.  When you mix them together it’s a potent combination.”

Grady was trying to regain his composure, though he still looked aghast.  “You may soon regret using yours, Miss Reed.”  He mopped sweat from his balding forehead.

The unspoken implications sent a chill down Dina’s spine.  But she still held out hope that she’d find a way clear of this mess.  And either way, I still want this bastard on the record.  Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at the camera in the corner; the green recording light shone steadily, if subtly.

She cleared her throat.  “Be that as it may, we both seem to be stuck with the other for the moment.  Unless you plan to give up on waiting for Captain Hawkins?”  In her college days, several of Dina’s journalism professors had cautioned her endlessly against asking leading questions during interviews.  But she felt like they would have forgiven her in this case.

“No way,” he muttered, shaking his head.  “That bitch is going down.”

Dina pressed him further.  Don’t mince words, asshole.  “And when you say ‘going down’, you mean…”

Suddenly he exploded.  “That bitch deserves to die for what she did!”  He was shouting now, hands balled into fists which pounded the desk.  “I had the accolades of this city time and again – and I goddamn earned them!  Then a skirt like her swishes in and sheds a tear in front of the city council, and they side with her?  Everything I’d worked for, down the fucking drain!”  He stood up straight, grabbing the faded leather of the desk chair and twisting it in his fingers.  “And it wasn’t even just me.  How many good names did she ruin?!  How many careers?!”

Dina spoke with calm precision, in direct contrast to the disgraced man’s outburst.  “There are some people who would say that those ‘good names’ were ruined by their owners.  With every action they took.”

“What would you fucking know about it?!” Grady roared as he charged out from behind the desk.  He stopped inches from Dina’s face.  “Your kind were all against me from the start.  Goddamn reporters.  I am so fucking tired of goddamn reporters!”  He was shaking with rage.  “Do you know what it’s like to be hounded by the likes of you every day?  With them crowding close?  Judging?  Cutting off your air?”  He grabbed Dina by her slender neck and lifted her into the air.  “Suffocating you?”

Dina gasped and wriggled in his powerful grip.  Restrained as she was, there was no way she could escape.

Grady looked desperate, rather than in control.  His voice was quieter now.  “What would you say if I told you I was going to choke the life out of your hot body right now?”

Dina was already turning pale, and her vision was swimming.  She struggled to focus both her eyes and her voice.  “I’d remind you…about what you said…about hurting people.”  She fought for every breath and every word.  “But there’s nothing…I can do to stop…you.  So choke and be damned.”

Their faces were separated only by a thin curtain of air.  Dina’s expression was growing slack, her eyes beginning to roll back in her head.  Grady’s was contorted in a maelstrom of anger, anxiety, and indecision.

Finally he loosened his grasp and pitched Dina onto the divan.  She lay supine, coughing violently.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, backing away.  “I’m sorry.”

Dina managed to get her coughing under control, though the room was still darkening.  She managed to gasp out a question, faintly.  “So what are…you going…to do with me?”

Grady eyed his discarded ski mask on the floor.  Then he placed both hands on the desk and bowed his head.  “…I don’t know.”

The words did nothing to soothe Dina as she swooned into a dreamless sleep.


* * *


Marigold was still trying to parse out the meaning of Antonia’s outburst in the hallway when she was shocked to see Virginia stride out of the nap room, unrestrained in any way.  She was saddened, though less shocked, to see that the girl had been stripped to her underthings.  The medic made a beeline for Mare.

“Hi, lieutenant,” the high schooler said.  She sounded weary with worry.

“Custis!” Mare hissed.  “How did…are they letting you have the run of the place?”

“Sort of.”  Virginia’s tone was somber.  “They untied me to take care of the injured.”  When Mare opened her mouth to speak, the girl anticipated her question.  “There’s two, back in the other room there.  The camera guy – he’s had some sort of seizure.  And the other…the other’s Rit.  They strangled her within an inch of her life, lieutenant.”  The girl’s voice was shaking, but – to Mare’s surprise – she did not break eye contact while delivering the dire news.

And it was definitely dire news.  Two bad casualties – and one of them’s the experienced medic.  Shit.  “…How are they?” Mare asked warily.

“I’ve got them stable…for now,” Virginia replied with a sigh.  “I wish I could do more to evaluate Rit, but she’s been out since they let me see her.  Minimally responsive, she may be comatose.  And the guy…I applied the cortical electrodes, but no dice.”  She rubbed her face.  “They need a hospital, lieutenant.  But these maniacs aren’t going to let them out of here.”

Mare was unsure how to take Virginia like this.  She seemed more self-possessed, but there was no telling when the rookie might crack under pressure.  Best not to put too much on her.  At least she seems to have information.  “Any sign of what’s happened to Boyd, or that Reed woman?  Or Captain Hawkins, for that matter?”

“I saw Becky briefly – they taped her to the firepole in the hall.  She was unconscious.  I haven’t seen Miss Reed, but if they got her cameraman I would guess they got her too.  Nothing about the captain, either.”  Virginia’s voice wavered again.  “Lieutenant…why are they doing this?”

“I wish I knew, Custis,” Mare said bleakly.  “I wish I knew.”

Just then the sound of returning footsteps echoed in the hallway.  “Best not to let them see us talking too much," Mare whispered.  “But I want you to check Zawisza, see how she is.  The bastards were torturing her something fierce with those tasers.”

“Yeah.”  Virginia grimaced.  “I saw through the doorway.”

The footsteps were growing louder.  “Check on Boyd too, make sure she’s alright,” Mare said hurriedly.  “Report back to me when you can.  And…whatever you do, avoid being alone with the short one, Ybarra.  He’s bad news.”  Virginia nodded slowly before rising and heading over to the senseless Augusta.

Antonia emerged from the hallway, shepherded by the swaggering Pullman.  Her hair was now tied up in an improvised bun.  The girl was tight-lipped.  “Don’t tell me you’re mad because I frisked you,” he drawled.  “It’s standard procedure.  Anyways, back to the chair with you.”  He looked over and acknowledged Virginia’s presence with a curt nod, seemingly okay with her roving medical inspection.

Antonia marched to stand near Mare, and Pullman regarded her.  “I still can’t believe you bothered to put your hair up while you were in there.  You’re not going out on the town or anything!”

The tall girl turned to face him, cocked her head, and smiled.  “You prefer it down?”

“Hell yes I prefer it down.”

“Alright then.”  She reached up and began undoing the bun.  Mare, just behind her, could see Antonia’s left hand withdraw a small brass key from within.  Then she subtly moved her hand down and slid the key into Mare’s right hand.  Mare, quick on the uptake, closed her hand over the key, concealing it.

Pullman never saw it.  He had eyes only for Antonia’s hair as she freed it, sweet waves of auburn falling past her shoulders.  “Damn, honey,” he said at half volume. “What the hell are you doing in the fire department?”

“Just trying to unlock my potential,” Antonia said matter-of-factly.  Then she sat purposefully down into the chair behind the lieutenant.  Pullman crossed the room and re-bound her, lingering over the process for several minutes.  Afterward he reluctantly answered a call from Yabarra and exited into the hallway.

“What have I got here?” Mare whispered.

“Key to the duct maintenance panel,” Antonia replied.  “I snagged it while I was in the bathroom.  These nutsos said they had the place locked up tight, so I thought it might be useful if I could get away while I was untied.  Never got the friggin’ chance, though.”

Mare got excited as a plan started to form in her mind.  “No, no, this is good.”  The panel is at the end of the hallway, this could work.  She motioned Virginia back over with her head.  The medic, seeing Mare’s urgency, came quickly.

“Augusta seems to be ok, lieutenant, at least as far as I can see.  Strong pulse, breathing steady.  But I haven’t had a chance to check on –”

She was cut off by Pullman’s yelp of pain from the hallway, followed by shouting from Becky.  “Touch me again and you’ll pull back a stump, I swear to God!”

Mare smirked mirthlessly.  “Seems like Boyd’s awake, and they haven’t knocked all the feistiness out of her yet.”  I just hope she doesn’t annoy them so much that they beat her senseless.

She looked into Virginia’s anxious face.  “Okay – here’s the plan.  Take the key in my right hand, and keep it out of sight.”  Virginia retrieved it and, feeling somewhat awkward about the whole business, slid the key into the left cup of her bralette.  “Now – can you get ahold of a knife or something, to cut Becky free?”

The medic considered hurriedly.  “There’s a scalpel in my bag that they missed.”

“Good.  First chance you get, make sure Becky’s capable of making the attempt.  If she is, cut her loose and give her the key.  It’s for the maintenance panel at the end of the hall.”

Virginia furrowed her brow. “Excuse me, lieutenant, but what attempt?”

Mare grinned slightly.  “To escape through the ductwork.  Becky’s agile, and she’s the smallest out of all of us here.  If anyone can do it, she can.  Tell her to get to the roof, then get in touch with the cops.  Make sure she can fill them in on the details – at least three crooks, lightly armed, nine or so hostages, including two badly hurt.”  Mare inhaled deeply.  “Ideally, they’ll be able to storm the place. But if worst comes to worst, at least they can start bargaining for…whatever these psychos want.  Maybe then we can negotiate a way out of here for the injured.  Make sense?”

Virginia’s brown eyes unfocused while she ticked off items in her head, nodding slightly at each.  Then she refocused and locked glances with Mare.  “Think so.”

Mare nodded assent.  “Alright.  Let me know if and when she’s ready.  But don’t jump off until I’ve got a distraction going.  When you hear me say the name of the station – that’ll be the signal.  Be smart and safe about it, for God’s sake.”

Virginia’s lower lip was trembling slightly.  “Okay, lieutenant.”

Mare steadied her with a warm, tight smile.  “I’m counting on you, Custis.”

Without warning Virginia moved forward and enfolded Mare in a hug, as tight as the ropes and chairs would allow.  Mare, surprised, could do little except chuckle awkwardly and incline her head toward the girl.  Virginia pulled back and looked Mare in the eyes again, sheepish.  Mare smiled once more.  “Go on, now.”  Virginia hurried back to the nap room to retrieve the scalpel.

Mare caught a sidelong glance from the gagged Candy, who was listening intently to the whispered conversation.  Her eyes were wild, no doubt due to her turbulent mix of hope, desperation and fright.  All Mare could do was close her eyes and make a couple of soothing Shh…Shh… expressions.  The wildness in Candy’s eyes subsided a bit, but that was all.

Then Antonia whispered over Mare’s shoulder.  “You sure this is the best idea, L-T?  I mean with a scalpel, and Virginia to free us, we could wait for the right time, maybe swipe some of their weapons, get the drop on these fuckwads.”

“Oh, I want to clobber them, alright,” Mare whispered back.  “But Cervantes and that cameraman are badly hurt.  Who knows, Reed might even be hurt.  They don’t have the luxury of waiting for the ‘right time.’  Besides, those pistols aren’t toys.  Any foul-up and somebody might get shot.  Leave that business for the cops, that’s what they’re paid for.”

“I just don’t like the idea of sitting here like little girls waiting to be rescued…” Antonia muttered.

That moment, Pullan stormed into the kitchenette, followed by Ybarra.  Pullman was clutching his right index finger and cursing under his breath.  He grabbed a dishrag from one of the drawers, then opened the fridge freezer, where he noisily grabbed a handful of ice cubes.  The tall man quickly fashioned a dressing.  “I’d swear that fucking bitch has fangs,” he growled.  Ybarra laughed.

Atta girl, Mare thought.

After a few moments, Virginia emerged from the nap room and timidly asked if she could check on Becky, now that she was awake.  Pullman gave a dismissive but affirmative grunt, and the girl exited.

Anxious minutes crawled by.  Pullman and Ybarra chatted about the latest Clippers draft.  Mare wondered whether Becky was well enough to make the attempt.  Or has something else gone wrong?  Then Virginia reentered through the hallway door.

She walked purposefully over to Pullman.  He had his back to her while he leaned against the fridge, nursing his finger.  Ybarra, seated, looked on with amusement.  Virginia took a deep breath, then tapped Pullman on the shoulder.  “Ahem.”

He turned, annoyed.  “What?”

“I’d like to get Becky some ice for those fresh bruises.”  Virginia’s soft tone was nonetheless accusatory.  “If you don’t mind.”

Pullman took his time, but finally stepped aside with an elaborate sweep of his arm, signifying sarcastic accommodation.  The medic paid it no mind, but moved straight to opening the freezer.  As she did so she cast a seemingly casual glance in Mare’s direction; the freezer door hid the medic’s ‘thumbs up’ signal from the two intruders.

We’re in business.  Curtain call, Miss Thompson.  Mare breathed in deeply.  Maybe soon we can finally let someone on the outside know what the hell is going on in here.