Blowout

get to him, an officer yelled, “Hey, buddy, get the hell back!”
    Savich turned, pulled out I.D., and held it in the officer’s face. “Where’s Chief Gerber?”
    Officer Ridley looked at the big guy in the black leather jacket who’d just climbed out of a sexy red Porsche that would cost him three years’ salary and said, “So who gives a damn if you’re FBI? Chief Gerber is busy. This is a local matter, Agent, we’ve got it covered.”
    “Let’s try again, Officer. Where is Chief Gerber?”
    Ridley took another step toward him, leaned right in his face now. “And why is that any of your freaking business?”
    Savich grabbed Ridley by the collar and hoisted him off his feet. “I asked you where Chief Gerber is, Officer.”
    “Hey! What’s going on here? Hey, you, let that officer down! Back away!”
    The second officer reached for his gun. Sherlock grabbed his arm and stuck her I.D. in his face. “Don’t you even think about drawing a gun on a federal officer. Back off, all of you.”
    “But—”
    Sherlock said, “We’re here because the man inside that house—his mother called me, frantic for help. The FBI has been looking for him. Now, where is Chief Gerber?”
    “Right here, Agent Sherlock.” A big beefy cop around fifty, with a baby face and a paunch starting to overflow his wide leather belt, approached them. “Calm down, guys. I was expecting these people. Lew, back off. Both of you get back to work.”
    Savich slowly let Officer Ridley down, but didn’t turn his back on him. Testosterone filled the air, and adrenaline was pumping because of the uncertainty of what was going on inside that house, an explosive combination.
    Sherlock stuck out her hand. “I’m Special Agent Sherlock, FBI. This is Special Agent Savich. You’re Chief Howard Gerber?”
    “That I am.” He shook their hands. “You got here very quickly.”
    Sherlock said, “We’ve been looking for the man who lives in that house for several days. Thank you, Chief, for calling me so quickly. This is a personal matter for us, as well as professional. We think we can help.”
    Officer Ridley was still breathing hard, but Savich realized he now had himself under control. At least enough control so he wouldn’t pull his gun and shoot him. Savich said, never raising his voice, never sounding anything but calm and in control, “Tell us what’s happening here, Chief.”
    “As I told Agent Sherlock, the guy who lives here, his name’s Martin Thornton. He’s got a wife, Janet, two daughters, ages eight and ten, inside the house, and won’t let them come out. We got a call from a neighbor about an hour and a half ago. They’d heard a gunshot and some screams. We think the husband went nuts. Why, we don’t know. Joe Gaines, the one with the bullhorn, is from the Hostage Rescue Team. He’s trying to get the guy to talk to him again, establish a dialogue. So far the guy hasn’t talked much, except to yell out once that his name wasn’t Martin Thornton, it was Austin Douglas Barrister. That’s when we ran the name and found the alert to call you, Agent Sherlock.” He paused a moment, eyeing Savich. “Okay, you said this is personal too. I’ve told you the facts as I know them, now it’s your turn to fill me in.”
    Savich said, “We need him as a possible witness in a murder investigation, and I know a great deal about his life. Give me a vest. I’ve got to be the one to speak to him. I may be the only one who can get through to him. His mother is the reason he cracked, and I’m the only one who knows her. She’s extraordinarily important to him. You’re going to have to trust me on this. It’s the best chance for his wife and daughters. Austin too.”
    Chief Gerber had listened intently, listened to every inflection, then made a decision. “Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be inclined to let a hot dog who drives up in a red Porsche anywhere close to that house.” He fell silent. Then he slowly nodded. “Guess these circumstances aren’t all that normal though. Joe, give Agent Savich the bullhorn, he’ll need it. Duncan, get Agent Savich a Kevlar vest. Keep your traps shut, I’ll take responsibility.” He studied Savich’s face. “You’re really sure about this?”
    “As sure as I can be about anything.”
    “I recognize you now. You’re the FBI guy heading the murder case at the Supreme Court, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    Officer Duncan handed Savich a vest. Savich stripped off his