observed Mark Price now cowering on the floor. He replayed in his mind the final chain of events that had enabled him to penetrate Exertify earlier this morning. Jennifer Willis had to coax him hard for many months to consider Exertify for the Egypt job. And the harder she had tried, the coyer he played. In the larger scheme of things, this contract was insignificant for Exertify. A spit in a waterfall. But the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow he was promising—the early access to the Egyptian market the deal would provide—was irresistible for Mark Price.
The devil had come begging and allowed him with open arms inside the gates of hell.
If it wasn ’ t for the roomful of hostages he needed to keep intimidated, Seth would have cracked a huge, satisfied smile. But this was not the time to gloat. This was only the start of the long and harrowing journey ahead of him.
He picked up the phone to call Blackwell.
TEN
Saturday, November 5, 2011—8:58 p.m.
Manhattan, NY
S eth ’ s voice had a business-like indifference. “My associates have confirmed the SWAT team has been removed from my building. As a result of your compliance, I can reveal to you the location of one of the four childcare centers we had wired with explosives, Mr. Blackwell. It ’ s located at 2700 Junction Street in Detroit.”
Vlasic jumped on the phone behind Blackwell to give orders to evacuate the Detroit facility Seth had just revealed. A bomb squad would follow to dismantle the explosives.
Blackwell sighed with moderated relief. “Are you ready to tell me what is it you want, Seth?”
“For now, I need supplies. Food and drink for the hostages and myself to last us for the next twenty-four hours.”
“I can get you what you need.”
“That ’ s not going to happen, Mr. Blackwell. You ’ re a smart man and surely understand I will rely only on my own delivery. When I say supplies, I also mean reinforcements. More leverage.”
“You ’ re digging yourself deeper, Seth.”
He ignored him. “A silver Lexus is driving along Lexington as we speak. In about twelve minutes, it ’ ll reach the intersection of Fifty-third and Lex and will turn right. The FBI has blocked access to Park—I want the Lexus to clear the NYPD police checkpoint there and to proceed unhindered to the tower. Two of my associates will leave the vehicle at the entrance and come up to us with the supplies. The car will remain there and no one will tamper with it. It ’ s got sensors on it, so I ’ ll know.”
Before Blackwell had a chance to oppose the request, Seth deterred it.
“Tell Monica Vlasic to check with Detroit police about the quality and power of our explosives when they get there. If she even toys with the idea of double-crossing me, it ’ s game over for one of the three remaining childcare centers. Twenty minutes is all you ’ ve got. Don ’ t waste them debating what you should do because you only have one option—the one I am giving you.” Seth hung up.
Monica was quick to express her frustration at the turn of events. “There was a time when a perp would extend you some fucking courtesy and lie about their intentions. Now they just say it to your face.”
Slant jumped in. “It ’ s a moot point, Monica. Whatever arms or explosives they deliver to him, it ’ s just another location he controls.”
Blackwell was glad it was Slant who attempted to lock horns with Monica on this one.
“The guy ’ s got three facilities he ’ s already wired. I ’ d give him his falafel boys and see what comes next.”
Blackwell agreed with Slant ’ s pragmatism, and judging by how frustrated Monica looked, she probably did too.
Two FBI agents were dispatched to the Fifty-third Street barricade, where they met up with the NYPD officers manning it. One of the federal agents had a concealed high-definition camera embedded in his Oakley shades, to allow Blackwell and the other agents to watch in real time from the command post. A silver Lexus
The devil had come begging and allowed him with open arms inside the gates of hell.
If it wasn ’ t for the roomful of hostages he needed to keep intimidated, Seth would have cracked a huge, satisfied smile. But this was not the time to gloat. This was only the start of the long and harrowing journey ahead of him.
He picked up the phone to call Blackwell.
TEN
Saturday, November 5, 2011—8:58 p.m.
Manhattan, NY
S eth ’ s voice had a business-like indifference. “My associates have confirmed the SWAT team has been removed from my building. As a result of your compliance, I can reveal to you the location of one of the four childcare centers we had wired with explosives, Mr. Blackwell. It ’ s located at 2700 Junction Street in Detroit.”
Vlasic jumped on the phone behind Blackwell to give orders to evacuate the Detroit facility Seth had just revealed. A bomb squad would follow to dismantle the explosives.
Blackwell sighed with moderated relief. “Are you ready to tell me what is it you want, Seth?”
“For now, I need supplies. Food and drink for the hostages and myself to last us for the next twenty-four hours.”
“I can get you what you need.”
“That ’ s not going to happen, Mr. Blackwell. You ’ re a smart man and surely understand I will rely only on my own delivery. When I say supplies, I also mean reinforcements. More leverage.”
“You ’ re digging yourself deeper, Seth.”
He ignored him. “A silver Lexus is driving along Lexington as we speak. In about twelve minutes, it ’ ll reach the intersection of Fifty-third and Lex and will turn right. The FBI has blocked access to Park—I want the Lexus to clear the NYPD police checkpoint there and to proceed unhindered to the tower. Two of my associates will leave the vehicle at the entrance and come up to us with the supplies. The car will remain there and no one will tamper with it. It ’ s got sensors on it, so I ’ ll know.”
Before Blackwell had a chance to oppose the request, Seth deterred it.
“Tell Monica Vlasic to check with Detroit police about the quality and power of our explosives when they get there. If she even toys with the idea of double-crossing me, it ’ s game over for one of the three remaining childcare centers. Twenty minutes is all you ’ ve got. Don ’ t waste them debating what you should do because you only have one option—the one I am giving you.” Seth hung up.
Monica was quick to express her frustration at the turn of events. “There was a time when a perp would extend you some fucking courtesy and lie about their intentions. Now they just say it to your face.”
Slant jumped in. “It ’ s a moot point, Monica. Whatever arms or explosives they deliver to him, it ’ s just another location he controls.”
Blackwell was glad it was Slant who attempted to lock horns with Monica on this one.
“The guy ’ s got three facilities he ’ s already wired. I ’ d give him his falafel boys and see what comes next.”
Blackwell agreed with Slant ’ s pragmatism, and judging by how frustrated Monica looked, she probably did too.
Two FBI agents were dispatched to the Fifty-third Street barricade, where they met up with the NYPD officers manning it. One of the federal agents had a concealed high-definition camera embedded in his Oakley shades, to allow Blackwell and the other agents to watch in real time from the command post. A silver Lexus
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