The prison standoff came to a head on the third day. The close air in the storeroom stank of sweat, fear, and paint thinner. The hostages were exhausted, frightened, and depressed, and Freddy was at the end of his rope. He hadn’t slept for more than twenty minutes at a time since precipitating the hostage crisis and his nerves were completely frayed. Charlie watched him pace back and forth in front of the hostages, the shiv clutched in one hand and the lighter in the other. Freddy would tense every time a “thump-thump-thump” signaled a helicopter passing overhead and grow even more tense when there was silence, which he took as the lull before a SWAT team stormed the storeroom.
“This is it, this is it,” Freddy mumbled under his breath. His eyes were bloodshot and his jaw was clenched so hard that his skin was drawn tight across his cheekbones.
“Be cool, Freddy,” Charlie said, trying to sound confident through his exhaustion.
“The motherfuckers are stalling. The SWATs are coming any minute. I can smell them.”
“I don’t think so. I really believe they’re getting the money together.”
Freddy stopped pacing and stared at Charlie.
“Bullshit.”
Normally, Freddy yelled and ranted, but now his voice was calm and pitched low. His self-possession terrified Charlie.
“They’re not sending a plane. They’re playing you. It’s time to show those motherfuckers I mean business or they’ll lose respect for me. Once that happens it’s the SWATs for sure.”
“They’ll definitely send in the troops if you send out a body. You’ll be giving them no choice.”
Freddy’s shoulders sagged and Charlie knew that his friend had given up all hope of lying on the beach of a tropical island.
“I don’t give a fuck anymore. The SWATs come in, I’m a dead man. I go out there, I’m a dead man. You don’t think some accident is gonna happen to me somewhere down the line if I survive today? Sending a body out is my only chance.”
Freddy turned away from his friend and studied the hostages. Most of them were too tired and hungry to show emotion. Larry Merritt was the only one who had the courage to meet Freddy’s eyes. Freddy pointed at the guard.
“I’ll slit his throat and you’ll drag him out. Tell McDermott that a hostage dies every hour the plane and the money aren’t here.”
“No, Freddy. Don’t do this.”
“I gotta, bro. Ain’t no other way.”
“If you kill him you’re killing me, too. They’ll come in shooting and no convict is gonna walk out alive.”
“You can hide behind that,” Freddy said, pointing to a broken, three-legged office desk that canted sideways, one corner touching the floor. “Then you surrender. You’re smart. You can talk your way out. Me, I gotta act.”
Freddy started toward the guard. “Say good night, motherfucker.”
Freddy started his downward thrust and Charlie hurled himself between the prison guard and Freddy’s knife.
“What the fuck!” shouted Freddy as the shiv buried itself in Charlie’s shoulder blade. Charlie was sprawled across the startled guard. Freddy jerked the knife out of Charlie’s back and Charlie rolled sideways so he could see his cellmate.
“Shit,” he groaned. “You stabbed me, Freddy.”
“What the fuck were you doing?” asked his shocked friend.
“Saving your life.”
Charlie pulled himself into a sitting position and gathered his courage, still keeping his body between Freddy and Merritt. What he wanted to say was hard for a man to express.
“I love you, Freddy.”
“What?”
“Not like that. I’m not queer. I love you like a brother. Hell, we are brothers. We don’t have the same mother or father, but we’re more brothers than natural brothers. You hear what I’m saying?”
Freddy looked stunned. Outside of bitches in the throes of passion, who he knew were just after his dope or money, no one had ever told him they loved him.
Charlie reached over his back and felt blood leaking from the knife wound. He grimaced.
“You okay?” Freddy asked with genuine concern.
“No, man, I’m not okay. You fucking stabbed me. But I’d let you kill me if it would save your life. That’s why I couldn’t let you off the guard. If he died, you’d be a dead man for sure.”
“You’d die for me?” Freddy said, trying hard to get his mind around the fact that Charlie was willing to take a bullet for him.
“To save you, yeah. Hell, how many times have you rescued me? I can’t count them. It’s time for me to pay you back.”
“Oh, man, you don’t owe me shit. You’re my friend, Charlie, my only friend.”
Freddy’s eyes filled with tears, something that hadn’t happened since he’d built an iron shell around his feelings to shield himself from his father’s vicious abuse.
“Naw, Freddy, you got plenty of friends,” Charlie lied, embarrassed by Freddy’s unexpected and unprecedented display of emotion.
“You’re lying, bro, but I ain’t mad. I know you just want me to feel good, but I don’t. I know plenty of people fear me, but you’re the only one who cares. You protected me from my old man when he, well, when he done that shit.”
Charlie felt a spasm of pain and moaned. Freddy knelt next to him and looked at his shoulder. The back of the blue prison-issue shirt was turning red. Freddy helped Charlie take it off, then made a compress by folding the shirt and tying it in place over the wound with his own. As he helped Charlie to his feet, Freddy noticed an empty liter bottle of cola that had rolled against the wall. A wave of strong emotion swept through him as he realized what he had to do. Then he threw his arms around Charlie and hugged him.
“I’m sorry I got you involved in this,” Freddy said when he’d released his friend. “I wasn’t thinking. You could have been killed, but I was just thinking of myself.”
“Hey, man…”
“Don’t say nothing, Charlie. Let me talk. You always think about me, man, but I’m a selfish bastard. It’s time I did something for you. I’m setting everyone free. You’re gonna take them out of here. Tell McDermott I’m gonna surrender and face the music. I fucked up and I gotta pay.”
“That’s great, Freddy. You’re doing the right thing.”
“Yeah, bro, I believe I am. Cut them loose and get your ass out of here.”
Charlie felt lightheaded from his wound but he knew he had to move fast, before Freddy changed his mind. Charlie used the shiv to cut everyone’s bonds. Then he gave it back to Freddy and led the hostages out of the storeroom.
“It’s Charlie Marsh, Mr. McDermott,” he shouted through the library door. “I’ve got the hostages with me. They’re free and unharmed. Don’t shoot, we’re coming out.”
The door opened and the hostages rushed into the corridor. Some were sobbing; others were too exhausted to show emotion.
“Mr. McDermott, Freddy wants to surrender. If you go in now he’ll give up,” Charlie managed. He was feeling dizzy from blood loss and the pain was making it hard to think. Suddenly, Charlie staggered and collapsed to the ground next to Warden Pulliams.
“Get a medic,” the warden told McDermott. “This man was stabbed saving Larry’s life. He’s a hero.”
The captain of the SWAT team sent a medic over to Charlie. Then he and McDermott and several members of the SWAT team entered the library. The point man led them through the stacks until they could see the door to the storeroom. The captain used hand signals to place his men where they would have a clear shot.
“Mr. Clayton, this is Assistant Warden McDermott. We’re grateful that you’ve released the hostages unharmed. Please come out now and we’ll take you into custody. I assure…”