room.
Murphy stared at the screen in surprise. 'Where did he come from? Might have been better staying lost. Sergeant, should we get the negotiator to phone?'
'No,' said Sergeant Powell. 'It might look as though we've orchestrated it and the kid will suffer.'
Amber glanced at Sergeant Powell. His face was expressionless. She understood what that meant. He had made it clear it was a deniable mission. No-one should know he had sent Alex and Hex in. But it wasn't long before Pirroni rang them. The ring tone came through as a crackle on the speaker attached to the computer.
The negotiator was alone in the trailer next door. He was deliberately isolated to give the terrorist the impression that he was working on his own and that their conversation was private: background noise could give away vital plans, or the terrorist could get spooked if he thought a roomful of people were monitoring his every word. However, the negotiator was in closed-message contact with the other trailer, in case they needed to send him information.
He answered the call smoothly, his voice welcoming. It was part of the technique to befriend the hostage-taker. 'Is that you, Peter?' he asked. Even though he knew Pirroni's real identity, he used the name the terrorist had been living under when in hiding. It helped create an atmosphere of trust.
'It is.'
'How is everyone?'
'They are fine,' replied Pirroni. He eased himself into a sitting position on the top step.
'What can I do for you?'
In the hostage stronghold, Alex was listening. His fingers strayed to Hex's watch on his wrist and he remembered the interference caused by the time-checking device. Experimentally, he turned it on, then peered up at the monitors. Sure enough, it caused a blip on the screen. He wondered if he could control it. He turned it off again. The picture became clear and smooth. He clicked the button on again, this time holding it down. The blip lasted for longer. That was good, thought Alex.
Amber was looking at the screen, matching the plan to the wide-angle view, when the picture seemed to hiccup. It was like an eye blinking at her. Then it blinked again.
Paulo was sitting nearest to her. She touched him on the arm and pointed. 'Look.'
They looked at the screen, willing it to happen again. It did. This time it was longer.
'Alex,' said Paulo quietly. He touched Li's arm and indicated the screen. He mouthed Alex's name at her. Relief flooded through her face like a light.
Pirroni's voice crackled through the speaker. 'I have a new hostage.'
Paulo still had his hand on Li's arm. The fingers tightened.
'Tell me about him,' said Pirroni.
'I don't personally know any of the people you have with you at the moment,' said the negotiator. 'However, if you give me your questions, I can find you the answers and get back to you.'
Pirroni asked his question: 'Just tell me this. What does this new kid's father do?'
In the monitoring room Amber, Li and Paulo saw the screens start to blink rapidly.
Paulo said quietly. 'Alex is trying to get a message to us.'
'Could be Morse code,' said Amber in a low voice. 'Damn! It's years since I did any for sailing. Now we just use satellite phones.'
Sergeant Powell had been listening to Amber, Li and Paulo. He barked an order: 'Murphy, can you take down that message?'
Murphy seized a pen and started to scribble down dots and dashes, translating them into letters as he went.
Li noticed that Murphy was looking puzzled. What he was writing seemed to be gobbledegook. 'Can the negotiator keep Pirroni talking?' she asked Powell. 'The hostages are trying to get a message through.'
Sergeant Powell hit a key on the keyboard in front of him. It sent a code to the other room.
The negotiator asked his next question smoothly, as though it was completely natural to keep talking. 'While you're here, Peter, is there anything you need? Water? Food?'
'We don't need anything. Except what I asked you for.'
'Do you have any family you would like us to
Murphy stared at the screen in surprise. 'Where did he come from? Might have been better staying lost. Sergeant, should we get the negotiator to phone?'
'No,' said Sergeant Powell. 'It might look as though we've orchestrated it and the kid will suffer.'
Amber glanced at Sergeant Powell. His face was expressionless. She understood what that meant. He had made it clear it was a deniable mission. No-one should know he had sent Alex and Hex in. But it wasn't long before Pirroni rang them. The ring tone came through as a crackle on the speaker attached to the computer.
The negotiator was alone in the trailer next door. He was deliberately isolated to give the terrorist the impression that he was working on his own and that their conversation was private: background noise could give away vital plans, or the terrorist could get spooked if he thought a roomful of people were monitoring his every word. However, the negotiator was in closed-message contact with the other trailer, in case they needed to send him information.
He answered the call smoothly, his voice welcoming. It was part of the technique to befriend the hostage-taker. 'Is that you, Peter?' he asked. Even though he knew Pirroni's real identity, he used the name the terrorist had been living under when in hiding. It helped create an atmosphere of trust.
'It is.'
'How is everyone?'
'They are fine,' replied Pirroni. He eased himself into a sitting position on the top step.
'What can I do for you?'
In the hostage stronghold, Alex was listening. His fingers strayed to Hex's watch on his wrist and he remembered the interference caused by the time-checking device. Experimentally, he turned it on, then peered up at the monitors. Sure enough, it caused a blip on the screen. He wondered if he could control it. He turned it off again. The picture became clear and smooth. He clicked the button on again, this time holding it down. The blip lasted for longer. That was good, thought Alex.
Amber was looking at the screen, matching the plan to the wide-angle view, when the picture seemed to hiccup. It was like an eye blinking at her. Then it blinked again.
Paulo was sitting nearest to her. She touched him on the arm and pointed. 'Look.'
They looked at the screen, willing it to happen again. It did. This time it was longer.
'Alex,' said Paulo quietly. He touched Li's arm and indicated the screen. He mouthed Alex's name at her. Relief flooded through her face like a light.
Pirroni's voice crackled through the speaker. 'I have a new hostage.'
Paulo still had his hand on Li's arm. The fingers tightened.
'Tell me about him,' said Pirroni.
'I don't personally know any of the people you have with you at the moment,' said the negotiator. 'However, if you give me your questions, I can find you the answers and get back to you.'
Pirroni asked his question: 'Just tell me this. What does this new kid's father do?'
In the monitoring room Amber, Li and Paulo saw the screens start to blink rapidly.
Paulo said quietly. 'Alex is trying to get a message to us.'
'Could be Morse code,' said Amber in a low voice. 'Damn! It's years since I did any for sailing. Now we just use satellite phones.'
Sergeant Powell had been listening to Amber, Li and Paulo. He barked an order: 'Murphy, can you take down that message?'
Murphy seized a pen and started to scribble down dots and dashes, translating them into letters as he went.
Li noticed that Murphy was looking puzzled. What he was writing seemed to be gobbledegook. 'Can the negotiator keep Pirroni talking?' she asked Powell. 'The hostages are trying to get a message through.'
Sergeant Powell hit a key on the keyboard in front of him. It sent a code to the other room.
The negotiator asked his next question smoothly, as though it was completely natural to keep talking. 'While you're here, Peter, is there anything you need? Water? Food?'
'We don't need anything. Except what I asked you for.'
'Do you have any family you would like us to
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