“On the count of three she’s a goner unless you throw down your gun!”
“Please, no!” begged Cindy.
“One…”
Cindy’s terrified eyes turned to Todd. “Oh, my God!”
“Two…”
Todd shouted at Lyle, “For Christ’s sake, he’s going to do it!”
The leader steadied the gun, smiled, opened his mouth as if to speak. And Lyle lowered his pistol, then tossed it aside.
“Very good,” said the leader. “Now, let go of my friend.”
As she was released and started picking up the weapons, the skinny blonde said to Lyle, “I wasn’t bluffing. An early ticket out of here would’ve been just fine with me.”
“Now all of you get down on the floor!” shouted the leader, still pressing his gun to Cindy Wilson’s head. “Get to work!”
“Right-o,” the scrawny guy said. “Better do just like he says, campers!”
Todd led the way, dropping to his knees and lying down on the now-soaking carpet. Carol and Bradley quickly followed his example, but Clariton hesitated and glanced at Lyle, who wasn’t budging either.
Yanking on Cindy’s hair, the head guy shouted, “I’d still be real happy to shoot this one!”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Clariton, sounding very authoritative. “Now, Lyle, please do as they say. We don’t want to aggravate the situation any further.” Clariton looked at the masked leader. “But I would like to discuss this and perhaps come to some sort of—”
“Shut the fuck up! If you’re not down on the floor in two seconds, she’s dead meat!”
“Okay… okay. Let’s not be hasty.”
The two men lay down, and Todd wondered if this was it, the beginning of an execution-style assassination. Of course this was about Clariton. Of course he, the controversial politician, was their target. But his assistant? His bodyguard? And what about Bradley and Todd, not to mention Cindy Wilson, whom the bald guy still held at gunpoint? Would any of them be left as witnesses, or would they all be eliminated?
His heart surging, Todd’s eyes darted about. Think. Fall back on your training, fall back on what you know. You’ve interviewed hundreds of people who’ve been through something like this. What did they do? How did they react? How did the police say they should have reacted?
Okay.
Yes, just three. Yes, one woman. Two men. Take it in. When he’d worked on the CrimeEye team he’d seen enough to know that you only had a few precious moments to get the most important facts, details that would be gone in an instant. Look at it all carefully. Record it in your mind. Masks. They’re all wearing big black smoke masks. The woman has thick blond hair. She’s wearing a black wool coat. Running shoes. Long legs. Skinny. One of the guys is kind of gangly. Torn jeans, ripped sweatshirt. Short, short hair. The other guy, the leader, is also thin and has a shaved head.
“Facedown now!” the leader shouted at Todd, aiming a pistol at him.
One last glance to the side told Todd that Bradley was on the floor by the tripod, while Carol was lying by a table.
Clutching Cindy Wilson and pressing a gun to her head, the bald leader shouted, “Hands behind your backs! Any troubles and this lady here gets a nice surprise!”
Smoke now gushed out of all the vents, and two of the intruders started dashing around, strapping everyone’s hands with plastic strips.
“Do the big guy first!” ordered the leader. “Strap his feet too!”
Lyle shouted, “You—”
“Shut up, asshole!”
They were flex-cuffs, quick handcuffs made of plastic, realized Todd, the kind the police could strap on in seconds. Working like a pro, the woman bound up Lyle, hands and feet, then Carol and Bradley. The skinny guy put the cuffs on Todd, and then less than a minute later he and the blonde were grabbing Clariton and forcing him to his feet.
“I don’t think you want to do this,” began Clariton, trying to control his voice. “I am a United States congressman, you see, and the FBI’s
“Please, no!” begged Cindy.
“One…”
Cindy’s terrified eyes turned to Todd. “Oh, my God!”
“Two…”
Todd shouted at Lyle, “For Christ’s sake, he’s going to do it!”
The leader steadied the gun, smiled, opened his mouth as if to speak. And Lyle lowered his pistol, then tossed it aside.
“Very good,” said the leader. “Now, let go of my friend.”
As she was released and started picking up the weapons, the skinny blonde said to Lyle, “I wasn’t bluffing. An early ticket out of here would’ve been just fine with me.”
“Now all of you get down on the floor!” shouted the leader, still pressing his gun to Cindy Wilson’s head. “Get to work!”
“Right-o,” the scrawny guy said. “Better do just like he says, campers!”
Todd led the way, dropping to his knees and lying down on the now-soaking carpet. Carol and Bradley quickly followed his example, but Clariton hesitated and glanced at Lyle, who wasn’t budging either.
Yanking on Cindy’s hair, the head guy shouted, “I’d still be real happy to shoot this one!”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Clariton, sounding very authoritative. “Now, Lyle, please do as they say. We don’t want to aggravate the situation any further.” Clariton looked at the masked leader. “But I would like to discuss this and perhaps come to some sort of—”
“Shut the fuck up! If you’re not down on the floor in two seconds, she’s dead meat!”
“Okay… okay. Let’s not be hasty.”
The two men lay down, and Todd wondered if this was it, the beginning of an execution-style assassination. Of course this was about Clariton. Of course he, the controversial politician, was their target. But his assistant? His bodyguard? And what about Bradley and Todd, not to mention Cindy Wilson, whom the bald guy still held at gunpoint? Would any of them be left as witnesses, or would they all be eliminated?
His heart surging, Todd’s eyes darted about. Think. Fall back on your training, fall back on what you know. You’ve interviewed hundreds of people who’ve been through something like this. What did they do? How did they react? How did the police say they should have reacted?
Okay.
Yes, just three. Yes, one woman. Two men. Take it in. When he’d worked on the CrimeEye team he’d seen enough to know that you only had a few precious moments to get the most important facts, details that would be gone in an instant. Look at it all carefully. Record it in your mind. Masks. They’re all wearing big black smoke masks. The woman has thick blond hair. She’s wearing a black wool coat. Running shoes. Long legs. Skinny. One of the guys is kind of gangly. Torn jeans, ripped sweatshirt. Short, short hair. The other guy, the leader, is also thin and has a shaved head.
“Facedown now!” the leader shouted at Todd, aiming a pistol at him.
One last glance to the side told Todd that Bradley was on the floor by the tripod, while Carol was lying by a table.
Clutching Cindy Wilson and pressing a gun to her head, the bald leader shouted, “Hands behind your backs! Any troubles and this lady here gets a nice surprise!”
Smoke now gushed out of all the vents, and two of the intruders started dashing around, strapping everyone’s hands with plastic strips.
“Do the big guy first!” ordered the leader. “Strap his feet too!”
Lyle shouted, “You—”
“Shut up, asshole!”
They were flex-cuffs, quick handcuffs made of plastic, realized Todd, the kind the police could strap on in seconds. Working like a pro, the woman bound up Lyle, hands and feet, then Carol and Bradley. The skinny guy put the cuffs on Todd, and then less than a minute later he and the blonde were grabbing Clariton and forcing him to his feet.
“I don’t think you want to do this,” began Clariton, trying to control his voice. “I am a United States congressman, you see, and the FBI’s
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