High Noon

but it’s all within the outline. You train for variables. But he likes…order? I guess that’s the word I want. He’s not real impulsive. He’d rather figure it through.”
    “He’s doing that now. Does he want to go through with his original plan—blow it all up, himself included, while I live, disgraced but breathing? Or, if he gets the opportunity, wouldn’t he rather take it down to the two of us? The hostages aren’t anything to him, but they’re everything to me. That was the idea. But to be able to look me in the eyes when he sets off that bomb, that’s going to be tempting.”
    “He’s tired,” Duncan added. “You can hear it in his voice. So are you. He probably hears it in yours. He’s getting closer to ending it.”
    “Yes, he’s closer, bringing up the press statement, that’s his lead into the final stage. Now this has given him something else to chew on.”
    “Activity inside.” Sykes held up his hand for silence as he listened to his radio. “No visual on the subject, but the hostage identified as the owner is untying two of the women. Got a clear view. One hostage, female, black, middle age, walking toward the rear.”
    “It’s Ma Bee,” Duncan murmured while fear closed a vise on his heart. “It’s got to be.”
    Ma walked back to the bathroom as directed. She moved slower than she needed to, even hobbled a bit though it hurt her pride.
    He made her leave the door open, which seriously offended her sense of propriety. Still, she peed like a racehorse and looked around for a weapon of any kind while her grateful bladder emptied.
    She wasn’t a fool. He was going to kill them all. If she could hurt him, even a little, she’d have some satisfaction on the way to Jesus.
    But there was nothing to grab. A bottle of liquid soap, a little dish of potpourri that wasn’t worth the throwing at the man’s head. In any case, he had that damn gun in that security guard’s ear.
    She shuffled out again, kept her eyes downcast as if cowed. “I’m Beatrice. They call me Ma Bee.”
    “Shut up, get back in the circle.”
    “I just wanted to thank you for letting me go first, before I embarrassed myself.”
    “You don’t shut up and go sit back down like I tell you, you’re the last one who goes.”
    She did as she was told, but she’d seen he had another gun, and more ammunition, in one of the boxes he’d wheeled in. More important, she’d seen what she thought had to be the detonator.
    “Has to be the bathroom break,” Sykes told her. “The way they’re moving from the circle to the rear, one at a time. First hostage is back. She’s…Tactical says she’s signaling. Signing. Three handguns, one rifle, ammo, detonator, rear right corner with bad guy, injured guard.”
    “Count on Ma,” Duncan whispered.
    “Get us the hell out of here,” Sykes finished and pulled out a smile.
    “I’m calling him back while he’s moving them back and forth, while he’s got to divide his attention. Let’s push him on the deal.”
    The phone rang, three times, four. Just as she was worried he wouldn’t pick up, his voice snapped on. “I don’t want to talk to you now.”
    “But, Jerry, I wanted to tell you about the deal. I can’t promise yet, but…If you can’t talk to me now, I’ll wait and tell you later.”
    “What? You’re not going to snow me, tell me you’re going to make the statement, make the trade, just like that.”
    “I’m not trying to snow you, just keep you in the loop. I don’t want anybody to get hurt. The chief doesn’t like the statement—politics, you know how it is. But I’m working on it.”
    “Politicians like their scapegoats. You tell the chief if he doesn’t give the go on it, if you’re not in front of those cameras inside the hour, we’re down to sixteen hostages.”
    “I’m going to tell him, Jerry. I’m going to tell him that all you want is for me to make a statement about my responsibility for Angela’s death, and you’ll let everyone go. Is that right, Jerry?”
    “I got a change of plans. You come in. We’ll use one of these camera phones for the statement, transmit it. That’s how we’re going to do it.”
    “You’ll trade me for the hostages, is that what you’re telling me?”
    “You come in.”
    Still not going to let them go. “Arnie’s daddy’s pushing for it, like I expected he would. I haven’t even had a chance to think it through myself and he’s banging his fist. Jesus, he’s a hard