“Chief, I need somebody to get up on the seventh wing across the way, top deck, to tell me if he can spot anyone on the eighth wing’s roof. We can’t see directly above us.”
“Roger that. The Maryland staties have a helicopter if we need it.”
“I’d like to see if we can get face-to-face with this guy, before it goes Hollywood on us. Make sure you get somebody from the Academy Public Affairs office spooled up.”
He put the radio back on his belt. Branner was helping the yard cops go room to room, making sure they were all empty. Jim followed them, staying out in the center of the corridor, trying to think of what else he should be doing. There was no noise other than the opening and closing of doors as the cops and Branner checked rooms, closets, and showers. When they reached the inner leg, Jim’s radio squawked.
“The midshipman officer of the watch reports from wing seven that there’s no one above you on the eighth wing’s roof as far as he can see. But there is one room with its window wide open, all the way down at the inboard end, mess hall side. He says it looks like a shade is flapping in that window.”
“Copy that,” Jim said, speaking softly. “We’re in the interior leg now. Stand by one.” He signaled the others to stop, then pointed down at the last door on the right side. One of the cops lowered his shotgun in the direction of the door, while the other cop continued to check rooms, although he was much quieter about it now. Jim signaled to Branner to join him and stepped back around the corner into an empty room to use his radio.
“Chief, we’re going to try to roust him out and talk him down. Don’t have a status on the Markham girl, but you should notify her father. He’s on faculty-in the bull department. What’s happening down there?”
“We got more city cops coming to complete the perimeter. The ladder truck is down for maintenance, and the nearest air bag is in Baltimore. The commandant is apparently on his way up here to the CP.”
“Keep him down there if at all possible,” Jim said. “How about the vultures?”
“No media yet, but I’ve asked the MarDet to seal the gates. Can you confirm this guy has a gun?”
“Haven’t seen him. But we don’t think he’s on the roof anymore.”
“Make sure your helper bees are behind some cover when you approach that room,” the chief said. “Have them stand in nearby doorways. Don’t all three of you be out in the corridor.”
“Hell, Chief, you’d think I never had any tactical urban warfare training in the Marnie Corpse.”
“You remember any of it?”
“He pops out with a gun, I probably will. But look, we’re all out of our depth here with a live hostage situation. I’m going to try to talk him down, but if it goes south, we wait for the pros, okay?”
“We could always do that now,” the chief suggested. Branner shook her head forcefully.
“I’d like to try once,” Jim said. “It’s not like we don’t know each other.”
“Your call, boss. I’ll brief the dant. And we’re clearing everybody out of the back part of Bancroft.”
“Good idea.” He looked at Branner to see if she had anything to add, but she shook her head. “Okay, Chief, let’s see if he’s in there.”
“Of course I’m in here, you dumb-fuck civilian,” a voice said over the circuit. Jim nearly dropped his radio.
“What-you forget I listened to all your circuits down in the tunnels? You think I don’t have this one covered, too?”
“Oka-a-y,” Jim said, trying to hide his surprise. “So you know you’re in a corner, Booth. What’s your program in there?”
“I’m getting ready to solve my problem, that’s what, Lame-Man-Chu. I’ve got a package all wrapped up and ready to fly.”
“A package?”
“Don’t play stupid, Jim, ” Booth said, aping Branner’s voice with surprising accuracy. “This package has a big mouth. I’m about to fix that problem. Ask your spotter over in seven what he sees now.”
Jim looked at Branner. “We need some secure comms,” he whispered. “See if there’s a telephone in one of these rooms. Anywhere. Call the chief, see what the guys over in wing seven can see.”
Branner hurried back down the corridor, looking for a phone. Jim went back into the other leg of the corridor and signaled the cops to follow him. He briefed them on the situation, then told them to take up stations, one in the room catty-corner from where they thought Booth was, the other in the adjacent room. Then he retired to the corridor intersection, where he saw the chief and Branner hurrying toward him. The chief motioned him out of the corridor and into a nearby room.
“SWAT team’s here. This is one of their spread-spectrum multistation radiophones. Can’t be intercepted. They brought a base station into the CP so we can talk on this. It’s full duplex. Hit this button to talk. Everybody can hear you, and you can hear them. Lock it down, you go into broadcast mode. Listen, the TAC lieutenant recommends everybody back out, let them bring the hostage team in, and then wait for the Feebs.”
The phone chirped. Jim switched it to talk. A voice from the CP relayed the fact that the spotter in the seventh wing was reporting something hanging partially out of the window, something white, looked like a mummy.
Jim acknowledged, a cold feeling in his gut. Booth had probably wrapped Markham up in one or more sheets to immobilize her, and was prepared to drop her to her death on the concrete below. He’d put the other radio down on the midshipman’s desk. He heard Booth talking on it. “So, we gonna talk, Jim? You said you wanted to talk me down. Don’t you want to know what happened to little Brian Dell?”
“Stand by, Dyle. We’re trying to outwit you. Admittedly, that takes time.” He turned to the others. “We can’t wait,” Jim told them. “I think he’s going to ice the girl and then himself. We need to engage him. Chief, see if you can figure out a way to get some assets onto the roof and snag that girl somehow.”
The chief stared at him. “Like what, lasso her?”
“Do something, Chief. Quietly, but do something. I’ll try to tie him up with talk. Get a bunch of mids together and pile every fucking mattress in the building under that window. If he drops her, maybe we can save her. But let’s get going.”
The chief exhaled dramatically and left the room. Jim picked up the police radio and looked at Branner. “Any bright ideas?”
“I can’t think of anything,” she said. “He’s fixating on you, so I think you’re right. Talk to him. Delay him somehow. See if you can get him out into the passageway. I’m going up on the roof and see if I can get into position, pop him if he moves to open that window.”
“You just going to shoot him if you see him near the window?”
“I’m going to hide and listen, but, yes, I will shoot him if it means saving Markham. This guy is whacked-out.”
They could hear some sirens winding down outside, behind the building. Jim nodded and keyed the Yard police radio. “Booth?” he said. Branner slipped out the door and headed back toward the other side of the wing.
“Yes, Jim?”
Jim stepped out the door and started walking down toward the end room opposite where Booth was holed up. “I’m coming down the passageway. I’ll go into the room opposite the one you’re in, wedge the door open, and sit down so you can see me.”
“Why the fuck would I want to see you, Jim?”
“I’m curious, Booth. I want to see if you are who you say you are. Don’t worry-I don’t even have a gun.”
“Sure you don’t. And I believe you. Of course I believe you. But I do have a gun, Jim. And I wouldn’t mind popping you. Wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have to be doing this at all.”
Jim locked the talk button down on the tactical squad’s radiophone and hooked it to his shirt as he passed the cop waiting behind the cracked door in the adjacent room. He kept talking as he walked. “I’ll put my hands on the desk so you can see them. And yes, I want to know what happened to Dell. The official word is he jumped on his own. Nothing to do with you.”