High Noon

her plan, shrugged into the vest someone passed her. “Once he’s away, I’ll keep him there, or, if I’m lucky, bring him closer to the display window. When the rear door’s clear—”
    “We’ll take it from there. You move any closer than I’ve cleared, it’s over, we sweep you out.”
    “Understood.” She turned to Duncan. “You can’t come with me.”
    “You’d better damn right come back to me.” He gripped her hand. “Not negotiable.”
    “Deal.” Her fingers tightened on his, and in his eyes she saw both his fear and his faith. “I love you,” she said, then walked away.
    He might take the shot, she knew, if he was quick enough, smart enough. Odds were against it, but she hadn’t been completely truthful. She ordered herself not to look back, because Duncan might see the lie in her eyes, and the fear with it.
    His mother, she thought, his sister. His lover. What happened in the next few minutes would determine if any, or all, of them came back to him.
    She pulled out her cell, called Jerry.
    “I’m heading down now. You need to get the hostages ready. Three hostages, Jerry, that was the deal.”
    “I know what the damn deal was. I see you, I see it, before anybody gets out.”
    “You see me, but you won’t see Angela’s diary until three people are out. You have to work with me, Jerry. You’ll still have fourteen. You didn’t know how many people would be in there when you planned this. There might only have been fourteen to begin with. You’re not losing anything, and you’re proving to me you keep a deal. I show it to you for three, and I’ll read you a page for three more. Then we’ll talk about the trade. That’s a fair deal, Jerry.”
    Lies, she thought, she was full of lies now. Did he hear them?
    If she failed, could she live with it? Could Duncan?
    She heard the chatter through her earpiece. The rear rig was booby-trapped and set with an alarm. It would take time she wasn’t sure she had to bypass and defuse.
    Work with what you’ve got, she reminded herself.
    “Tactical needs to see the three hostages, Jerry. They’ve got me blocked; they won’t let me through until they seem them.”
    Movement. Three females…moving toward the front.
    She got the nod, stepped out from cover. In the swampy heat, her flesh goosebumped with ice. “I’m here, Jerry. First part of the deal. Now your part. Let them go.”
    “I don’t see you.”
    “If I come any closer, Tactical’s going to swarm me and push me back. I’m at the southwest of the building. I can see the display window, and make out one—no, two people standing just to the right of it.”
    “Stupid to wear a vest, Phoebe, when I’d put one in your head.”
    The awful amusement in his voice stripped all the moisture from her throat. “I know, but rules are rules. Let them out, Jerry.”
    “I want to see the diary.”
    She kept her hand behind her back. “I kept my word, time to keep yours. Then it’ll be my turn again.”
    The locks clicked, the door flew open. People ran or stumbled out, weeping, shouting, “Don’t shoot!” Cops in body armor rushed to pull and drag them to cover.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw Ma Bee, and sent up a quick prayer of thanks.
    Duncan’s mother was safe.
    “My girl’s still in there,” Ma shouted. “He’s hiding behind her, hiding behind the others. He’s got the detonators. He’s got two of them.”
    The prayer died in her throat. She watched a wild-eyed woman come forward and shut the door again.
    “That’s three. Show me the book.”
    “All right, Jerry. Tactical needs to clear the civilians out of the inner perimeter. That’s a clear.” She brought the book from behind her back. “I have Angela’s diary.”
    “Open it. Open it and read. That could be any damn thing.”
    “I need three more hostages.” And though it went against her heart, she followed training. “I need the injured man with this group, Jerry.”
    “Fuck him. He stays, just like the rest. Want to see him, Phoebe?”
    She saw the movement, and Arnie stumbling forward as if he’d been shoved. His face was gray, the blood on it dried to black. As Roy’s had been, his torso was imprisoned with the bomb.
    Through the barred glass, his bruised eyes met Phoebe’s.
    “You read, or I blow him. Going to take a few other people out and bring serious hurt to the others. But what the hell, I’ll blow the big one, too, and that takes it all. You read now or it’s done. No more