explanation.” Monica sipped at her cup again, even though it was now empty.
“Here was a guy who ’ d spent his life being pushed around. He had spent his life savings to source the explosives. What if he had just wanted to sit on top for once and dangle his legs? You know—snap his fingers and boss people around for a change. And to have the top executives of the bank begging for their lives must have been the sweetest bonus.”
“He did it for the ride , not for the destination.” Blackwell thought about Vlasic ’ s story and wondered if it had any bearing on their current case or even their extended history. There was a solid sense of resolve in Seth ’ s voice to suggest a greater purpose. His demands would no doubt come soon.
“That ’ s right. And when he had enjoyed every last bit of it, he figured he was going to prison for a long time, where things would only get worse for him. He looked at his odds and decided to off himself. A purely statistical decision.” The melancholic quiver in Monica ’ s voice was one Blackwell hadn ’ t expected.
Even though Nishimura ’ s fingers and eyes were possessed by a higher digital calling, he ’ d been paying attention. “How shitty does your life have to be before you take drastic measures to be heard?”
Monica nodded. “Pretty fucking shitty. That case made me think, though. They condition us to believe every criminal has a material need.”
Nishimura put both his phones down. “And when you do this job long enough, you start believing it.”
“And that ’ s dangerous. We lose sight of simple truths. Like how some people commit horrific crimes with no specific end goal or cause. And it ’ s these guys who scare the shit out of me. They ’ re the ones we have to work twice as hard to stop from pulling the trigger for as long as they ’ re holding the damn gun.”
Blackwell considered the possibility Monica was being disingenuous with this story. The notion of preventing psychopathic criminals from taking innocent lives at any cost, would have served her well during the Hermosa Beach standoff. But back then, she had ignored the threat of one such criminal until it was too late.
Is she saying this for appeasement? Or trying to mess with my head? But her moist eyes suggested an alternative explanation. Maybe this was her way of taking some responsibility for Hermosa Beach. For years, Blackwell had been obsessed with how his own life was derailed by the incident and never once contemplated what it had done to her.
Blackwell decided against prying Monica open and pointing out her double standards. He stood up to stretch his legs just as Robert Slant, Natasha Shaker, and Eddie Grove walked back in the room.
The three of them stopped in their tracks, as if they had sensed something profound had been exchanged while they were away. But before any of them could ask what they had missed, the voice of a communication agent in another room boomed on the loudspeaker.
“Mr. Blackwell, I have a call for you.”
He raced back to his chair and yanked the headset from the table in time to hear Seth ’ s voice saying something he didn ’ t catch. So he launched into a well-rehearsed line.
“Give me something back for what I just gave you, Seth. How about the address of another one of those centers in exchange for your men and the supplies?” There was a short silence followed by a muted chuckle.
“What did I do to give you the impression this was going to be an equitable arrangement? That ’ s it, Mr. Blackwell—we are done with the exchange of gifts.”
The cold decisiveness of Seth ’ s voice triggered something in Blackwell ’ s mind. He now understood why Seth had revealed the location of the Detroit center. It wasn ’ t a sign of goodwill to pave the way for his real demands. Seth wanted the FBI to see his work in practice, and in doing so to demonstrate the seriousness of his intent.
Blackwell was getting tired of being reactive and wanted
“Here was a guy who ’ d spent his life being pushed around. He had spent his life savings to source the explosives. What if he had just wanted to sit on top for once and dangle his legs? You know—snap his fingers and boss people around for a change. And to have the top executives of the bank begging for their lives must have been the sweetest bonus.”
“He did it for the ride , not for the destination.” Blackwell thought about Vlasic ’ s story and wondered if it had any bearing on their current case or even their extended history. There was a solid sense of resolve in Seth ’ s voice to suggest a greater purpose. His demands would no doubt come soon.
“That ’ s right. And when he had enjoyed every last bit of it, he figured he was going to prison for a long time, where things would only get worse for him. He looked at his odds and decided to off himself. A purely statistical decision.” The melancholic quiver in Monica ’ s voice was one Blackwell hadn ’ t expected.
Even though Nishimura ’ s fingers and eyes were possessed by a higher digital calling, he ’ d been paying attention. “How shitty does your life have to be before you take drastic measures to be heard?”
Monica nodded. “Pretty fucking shitty. That case made me think, though. They condition us to believe every criminal has a material need.”
Nishimura put both his phones down. “And when you do this job long enough, you start believing it.”
“And that ’ s dangerous. We lose sight of simple truths. Like how some people commit horrific crimes with no specific end goal or cause. And it ’ s these guys who scare the shit out of me. They ’ re the ones we have to work twice as hard to stop from pulling the trigger for as long as they ’ re holding the damn gun.”
Blackwell considered the possibility Monica was being disingenuous with this story. The notion of preventing psychopathic criminals from taking innocent lives at any cost, would have served her well during the Hermosa Beach standoff. But back then, she had ignored the threat of one such criminal until it was too late.
Is she saying this for appeasement? Or trying to mess with my head? But her moist eyes suggested an alternative explanation. Maybe this was her way of taking some responsibility for Hermosa Beach. For years, Blackwell had been obsessed with how his own life was derailed by the incident and never once contemplated what it had done to her.
Blackwell decided against prying Monica open and pointing out her double standards. He stood up to stretch his legs just as Robert Slant, Natasha Shaker, and Eddie Grove walked back in the room.
The three of them stopped in their tracks, as if they had sensed something profound had been exchanged while they were away. But before any of them could ask what they had missed, the voice of a communication agent in another room boomed on the loudspeaker.
“Mr. Blackwell, I have a call for you.”
He raced back to his chair and yanked the headset from the table in time to hear Seth ’ s voice saying something he didn ’ t catch. So he launched into a well-rehearsed line.
“Give me something back for what I just gave you, Seth. How about the address of another one of those centers in exchange for your men and the supplies?” There was a short silence followed by a muted chuckle.
“What did I do to give you the impression this was going to be an equitable arrangement? That ’ s it, Mr. Blackwell—we are done with the exchange of gifts.”
The cold decisiveness of Seth ’ s voice triggered something in Blackwell ’ s mind. He now understood why Seth had revealed the location of the Detroit center. It wasn ’ t a sign of goodwill to pave the way for his real demands. Seth wanted the FBI to see his work in practice, and in doing so to demonstrate the seriousness of his intent.
Blackwell was getting tired of being reactive and wanted
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