in the dark, Mr. McLanahan, and that’s dangerous. Do you want that for your wife and new baby? Which is more important—national security or the lives of your wife and child?”
“My family, of course,” Patrick said resolutely.“I’ll tell you anything you need to know. What about this oxytocin stuff, about speeding up labor?”
“The drug will supplement, then eventually take over, the frequency and intensity of her contractions—we’ll have better control,” the obstetrician said. “Things will happen fast after that. If they don’t, we’ll start considering our options …”
“Not a cesarean,” Patrick said emphatically.
“If you won’t consider a cesarean, then you risk the health, even the life, of the baby …”
“I said
no
C-section,” Patrick said, his voice hard, his eyes piercing the doctor’s. “I’m not going to risk Wendy’s life. Period.”
The doctor nodded. He saw the pain on Patrick’s face. “All right, I hear you. We’ll make that decision later—that probably won’t be for a few hours. But first, we need to talk. Sit down …”
SEVENTH AND K STREETS, SACRAMENTO THE SAME TIME
T he complex was called Sacramento Live! and it was the biggest thing to hit the downtown area in years: ten nightclubs and ten movie theaters, all in one location on K Street. Everything was in one place, from quiet, elegant, relaxing steak houses that served fine wine and cigars, to pizza places with games and cartoons for the kids, sports bars, jazz, rock and roll, funk, country-western, and Generation X. Patrons could do one-time parking or take Light Rail right to the mall, see a movie, then spend an evening in one place, or circulate among all of them, and never go outdoors. The place was packed all year long, but during the holidays it wasshoulder-to-shoulder, with mall-weary shoppers talking refuge in the movie theaters and then enjoying dinner and a drink before heading home.
The doors closed at midnight. It normally took the small army of cleanup crews less than an hour to straighten up, but during the holiday season they needed extra crews, and it took the seasonal workers longer to do the job of cleaning up the huge complex. The night managers of the clubs were usually finished counting the receipts, checking the time cards, doing a closing inventory, and preparing the books by one A.M., SO several cleanup crews were still inside when the day’s receipts were boxed up in large locked steel containers by each club’s manager and an armed private security officer and wheeled over to the bookkeepers and general manager in the cash room on the second floor of the complex.
Security was tight inside Sacramento Live!, especially when the cash was on the move. Off-duty Sacramento Police Department officers patrolled the complex when it was open, but all but one of them went home at midnight, leaving only private security forces on duty. A private elevator, guarded on the first floor by an armed security officer and controlled by the chief of security from the second floor, took the steel cash bins upstairs to the cash room. Other security officers monitored cameras mounted throughout the complex, keeping watch over the area around the private elevator while the cash bins were in motion. Watchmen armed only with radios and flashlights patrolled inside and outside until all the regular employees had left the building and the cash was secure. The lone off-duty police officer was stationed with the chief of the private security company on the second floor during the receipts transfer; the radio he carried was a standard-issue police radio, linked to Central Dispatch.The private security officers and watchmen were connected to each other via radio, as well as to the chief of security on the second floor.
The elevator could only take three cash bins and their escorts at a time, so five boxes were left waiting on the first floor as the first group of three went upstairs; and three boxes had yet
“My family, of course,” Patrick said resolutely.“I’ll tell you anything you need to know. What about this oxytocin stuff, about speeding up labor?”
“The drug will supplement, then eventually take over, the frequency and intensity of her contractions—we’ll have better control,” the obstetrician said. “Things will happen fast after that. If they don’t, we’ll start considering our options …”
“Not a cesarean,” Patrick said emphatically.
“If you won’t consider a cesarean, then you risk the health, even the life, of the baby …”
“I said
no
C-section,” Patrick said, his voice hard, his eyes piercing the doctor’s. “I’m not going to risk Wendy’s life. Period.”
The doctor nodded. He saw the pain on Patrick’s face. “All right, I hear you. We’ll make that decision later—that probably won’t be for a few hours. But first, we need to talk. Sit down …”
SEVENTH AND K STREETS, SACRAMENTO THE SAME TIME
T he complex was called Sacramento Live! and it was the biggest thing to hit the downtown area in years: ten nightclubs and ten movie theaters, all in one location on K Street. Everything was in one place, from quiet, elegant, relaxing steak houses that served fine wine and cigars, to pizza places with games and cartoons for the kids, sports bars, jazz, rock and roll, funk, country-western, and Generation X. Patrons could do one-time parking or take Light Rail right to the mall, see a movie, then spend an evening in one place, or circulate among all of them, and never go outdoors. The place was packed all year long, but during the holidays it wasshoulder-to-shoulder, with mall-weary shoppers talking refuge in the movie theaters and then enjoying dinner and a drink before heading home.
The doors closed at midnight. It normally took the small army of cleanup crews less than an hour to straighten up, but during the holiday season they needed extra crews, and it took the seasonal workers longer to do the job of cleaning up the huge complex. The night managers of the clubs were usually finished counting the receipts, checking the time cards, doing a closing inventory, and preparing the books by one A.M., SO several cleanup crews were still inside when the day’s receipts were boxed up in large locked steel containers by each club’s manager and an armed private security officer and wheeled over to the bookkeepers and general manager in the cash room on the second floor of the complex.
Security was tight inside Sacramento Live!, especially when the cash was on the move. Off-duty Sacramento Police Department officers patrolled the complex when it was open, but all but one of them went home at midnight, leaving only private security forces on duty. A private elevator, guarded on the first floor by an armed security officer and controlled by the chief of security from the second floor, took the steel cash bins upstairs to the cash room. Other security officers monitored cameras mounted throughout the complex, keeping watch over the area around the private elevator while the cash bins were in motion. Watchmen armed only with radios and flashlights patrolled inside and outside until all the regular employees had left the building and the cash was secure. The lone off-duty police officer was stationed with the chief of the private security company on the second floor during the receipts transfer; the radio he carried was a standard-issue police radio, linked to Central Dispatch.The private security officers and watchmen were connected to each other via radio, as well as to the chief of security on the second floor.
The elevator could only take three cash bins and their escorts at a time, so five boxes were left waiting on the first floor as the first group of three went upstairs; and three boxes had yet
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