Biggins pulled a retractable monopod from his pocket and extended it, screwing the joints tight. "So what can I do about it? Like, I've got a Steadicam in my fucking pocket?"
The view was excellent. Silbert could see troopers were clustered on the left side of the slaughterhouse. With grim respect he thought of Agent Arthur Potter, who'd looked him in the eye and said there'd be no assault. It was obvious the troopers were getting ready for an imminent kick-in.
Stillwell took a small sponge-covered microphone from his pocket and held it in his hand. He spoke into his scrambled cellular phone and called the remote transmission van, which was back near the main press tent. "You cocksucker," he said to Kellog when the man answered. "I was hoping they'd bust your ass."
"Naw, I told that trooper they could fuck your wife and they let me go."
"The other guys, they're at the press table?"
"Yep."
Silbert had in fact never told any of the other reporters about the press pool arrangement. He and Biggins, Kellog and Bianco and the two reporters now sitting at the pool site, pretending to type stories on the gutted Compaq, were all employees of KFAL in Kansas City.
Biggins plugged the mike into the camera and unfolded the parabolic antenna. He clipped it to the handrail of the windmill and began speaking into the mike, "Testing, testing, testing…"
"Cut the crap, Silbert, you gonna give us some pictures?"
"Ted's sending the level now." Silbert gestured toward the antenna and Biggins adjusted it while he spoke. "I'm switching to radio," the anchorman said, then took the microphone and shoved an earphone in his left ear.
After a moment Kellog said, "There. Five by five. Jesus H. Christ, we got the visual. Where the fuck are you? In a helicopter?"
"The pros know," Silbert said. "Cut into the feed. I'm ready to roll. Let's do it before we get shot down."
There was a staticky click and he heard a Toyota commercial suddenly cut off in mid-disclaimer. "And now from Crow Ridge, Kansas," the baritone announcer said, "We have a live report from Channel 9 anchorman Joe Silbert with exclusive footage from the kidnaping scene, where a number of students from the Laurent Clerc School for the Deaf and two teachers are being held by escaped convicts. Let's go live to you, Joe."
"Ron, we're overlooking the slaughterhouse in which the girls and their teachers are being held. As you can see, there are literally hundreds of troopers surrounding the building. The police have set up a series of those brilliant halogen lights to shine into the slaughterhouse windows, presumably to prevent any sniping from inside.
"The lights and the presence of the troopers, however, didn't prevent the murder of one of the hostages on that spot right about there, in the center of your screen, about six hours ago. A trooper told me that the girl was released by the fugitives and was walking down to join her family and friends when a single shot rang out and she was hit squarely in the back. She was, as you said, Ron, deaf, and the trooper told me he believed she'd used sign language to plead for help and to tell her family that she loved them."
"Joe, do you know the identity of that girl?"
"No, we don't, Ron. The authorities are being very slow in releasing any information."
"How many hostages are involved?"
"At this point it seems there are four students remaining inside and two teachers."
"So some have gotten out?"
"That's right. Three have been released so far, in exchange for demands by the kidnapers. We don't know what concessions the authorities have made."
"Joe, what can you tell us about those policemen off to the side there?"
"Ron, those are members of the elite Kansas State Police Hostage Rescue Unit. We've had no official word about an attempted rescue but I've covered a number of situations like this before and my impression is that they're preparing for an assault."
"What will happen, do you think, Joe? In terms of the assault? How will it proceed?"
"It's hard to say without knowing where the hostages are being kept, what the firepower of the men inside is, and so on."
"Could you speculate for us?"
"Sure, Ron," Silbert said. "I'd be happy to."
And he signaled to Biggins, using the hand gestures they'd developed between them. The sign meant "Zoom in."
They got down to the business at hand, for they didn't know how much time remained until the next deadline.
Captain Dan Tremain spoke on the scrambled radio to Bravo team and learned that they had found a breachable door near the dock in the back of the slaughterhouse but it was in full view of a skiff containing two armed troopers. The boat was anchored about twenty yards offshore.
"They'll see us if we get any closer."
"Any other access to the door?"
"Nosir."
Outrider Two, however, had some good news. Glancing into the plant, Trooper Joey Wilson had scanned the far wall – the southeast side – of the slaughterhouse and saw that, just opposite the fire door that Alpha team was going to breach, was a large piece of sloppily mounted plasterboard. He wondered if it covered a second fire door. The initial exterior surveillance hadn't revealed it. Tremain sent another trooper under the dock to the far side of the building. He made his way to the place Wilson mentioned and reported that it was in fact a door, invisible because it was overgrown with ivy.
Tremain ordered the trooper to drill through the door with a silenced Dremel tool fitted with a long, thin titanium sampling bit. Examining the core samples he found that the door was only an inch thick and had been weakened with wet rot and termite and carpenter ant tunneling. There was a two-inch gap and then he struck plasterboard, which proved to be only three-eighths inch thick. The whole assembly was far weaker than the door on the opposite side. Small cutting charges would rip it open easily.
Tremain was ecstatic. This was even better than going through the loading-dock door, because opposing door entry allowed for immediate dynamic crossfire. The takers wouldn't have a chance to respond. Tremain conferred with Carfallo and divided the men into two new teams. Bravo would make its way under the dock to the southeast side of the slaughterhouse. Alpha would position itself at the north door, further to the back but closer to the hostages.
Upon entry, Alpha would split in two groups, three men going for the hostages, three advancing on the takers, while the four-man Bravo team would enter through the south door and engage the HTs from behind.
Tremain considered the plan: Deep gullies to cover their approach, absolute surprise, stun then flash grenades, crossfire. It was a good scenario.
"Home base to all teams and outriders. On my mark it will be forty-five minutes to green-light order. Are you ready? Counting from my five… Five, four, three, two, one, mark."
The troopers acknowledged the synchronization. He would -
An urgent, staticky message: "Bravo leader to home base. We have movement here. From the loading dock. Somebody's rabbiting."
"Identify."
"Can't tell. They're slipping out from under the loading-dock door. I can't see clearly. It's just motion."
"An HT?"
"Unknown. The dock's shot to hell and there's crap all over it."
"Mount your suppressors."
"Yessir."
The men had suppressors on their H amp;Ks – big tubes of silencers. For at least a clip or two of ammunition the sound of the guns would be merely a whispering rattle and with this wind the troopers in the skiff would probably not hear a sound. "Acquire target. Semi-auto fire."