Ellison looked innocent.
“Something I said?”
The energy on the street changed dramatically; Talley had felt that he was hanging from a ledge by his fingers, but now an organized military weight was settling over York Estates. A brilliant pool of white light swept over them on its way along the convoy. All three of them held up their hands to cut the glare. The different teams breaking up into their components with well-rehearsed efficiency felt comforting. Talley no longer felt alone. In a matter of minutes, this man Will Maddox would take the responsibility of other lives from his shoulders.
Talley said, “Mr. Maddox, I am damned glad to see you here.”
“Will. Mr. Maddox is my wife.” Ellison laughed loudly.
Maddox smiled absently at the lame joke, glancing at the mouth of the cul-de-sac a half-block away.
“The barricade up there?”
“Up at the end. I’ve got two men directly out front, three men spread across the property on either side, and another three beyond the back wall on Flanders Road. We have two people on each entrance here into York and three with the media. We could use more with the media right away before they start leaking through the development.”
“You can brief the Captain on those kinds of things, but there are a couple of points that I need to hit before we get into all that.”
“Go.”
Talley walked with them back toward the control van to find the Captain. He knew from his own experience that Maddox and Ellison would want a virtual replay of his conversations with Rooney.
“It’s you who’s had direct contact with the subjects?”
“Yes. Only me.”
“Okay. Are the innocents under an immediate threat?”
“I don’t believe so. The last contact I had with Rooney was about twenty minutes ago. Way I left it, he’s in there thinking that he has outs both for Kim’s murder and the attempt on the officer. You know about that?”
While inbound, the Sheriffs had received a radio briefing on the events leading up to the barricade situation. Maddox confirmed that they knew the bare bones.
“Okay. Turns out Kim had a gun, and more than one of the subjects besides Rooney fired upon the officer. I left him thinking that a sharp lawyer could cut a deal on both counts.”
“Has he made any demands?”
Talley told him about Rooney demanding that the perimeter be pulled back and the deal that they’d made, the hostage names for the pullback. Getting the first concession was often the most difficult, and how it was gotten could set the tone for everything that was to follow.
Maddox walked with his hands in his pockets, his expression knowing and thoughtful.
“Good job, Chief. Sounds like we’re in pretty good shape. You used to be with LAPD SWAT, weren’t you?”
Talley looked more closely at Maddox.
“That’s right. Have we met?”
“I was on LAPD as a uniform before I went with the Sheriffs, which put us there about the same time. When we got the call here today, your name rang a bell. Talley. You did the nursery school.”
Talley felt uncomfortable whenever someone mentioned the nursery school.
“That was a long time ago.”
“That had to be something. I don’t think I would’ve had the balls.”
“It wasn’t balls. I just couldn’t think of anything else.”
On a bright spring morning in the Fairfax area of Los Angeles, a lone gunman invaded a Jewish day-care center, taking an adult female teacher and three toddlers hostage. When Talley arrived, he found the gunman confused, incoherent, and rapidly dissociating. Fearing that the subject had suffered a psychotic break and the children were in imminent danger, Talley offered himself in trade for the children; this was against direct orders from his crisis team captain and in violation of LAPD policy. Talley approached the day-care center unarmed and unprotected, surrendering himself to the gunman, who simultaneously released the children. As the gunman stood in the door with one arm hooked around Talley’s neck and a 9mm Smith amp; Wesson pistol pressed to Talley’s head, Talley’s best friend during those days, Neal Craimont, dropped the subject with a sixty-yard cortical brain shot, the 5.56mm hypervelocity bullet passing only four inches to the left of Talley’s own brain stem. The newspapers had made Talley out to be a hero, but Talley had considered the events of that morning a failure. He had been the primary negotiator, and for a negotiator, it is always a failure when someone dies. Success only comes with life.
Maddox seemed to sense Talley’s discomfort. He dropped the subject.
When they reached the rear of the command van, a woman wearing a green tactical uniform stepped from among a knot of sergeants to meet them. She had a cut jaw, smart black eyes, and short blond hair.
“Is this Chief Talley?”
Maddox nodded.
“This is him.”
She put out her hand. Now closer, Talley saw the captain’s insignia on her collar. She had a tough grip.
“Laura Martin. Captain. I’m the field commander in charge of the crisis response team.”
Where Maddox and Ellison were relaxed and loose, Martin was as taut as a power cable, her manner clipped and humorless.
“I’m glad you’ve met our negotiators. Sergeant Maddox will take over as the primary.”
“We were just discussing that, Captain. I think we’re in pretty good shape with that. The subjects seem calm.”
Martin keyed the radio transceiver strapped to her harness and called for a communications check of her supervisors in five minutes, then looked back at Talley.
“Do you have a perimeter in place around the house?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How many men?”
“Eleven. A mix of my people and the Highway Patrol. I put the men in close, then pulled them back to get things going with Rooney, so you’ll have to be careful with that.”
As Talley spoke, Martin didn’t seem to be paying attention. She glanced both ways along the street, leading Talley to think that she was measuring the scene and more than likely sizing up his officers. He found himself irritated. The command van was being repositioned farther down the block over an access point to the underground power and phone lines that ran under the streets. If they wanted to tap into the phone lines that ran to the house, they could do it from there. They could also tap power for the van. Talley had already called PacBell and the Department of Water and Power to the scene.
“I’ll get my supervisors together so you can brief everyone at once. I want to rotate my tactical people into the perimeter as soon as we’ve stabilized the situation.”
Talley felt another flash of irritation; it was clear that the scene was stable. He suggested that Martin assemble her supervisors in Mrs. Pena’s home, but Martin thought that would take too much time. As she called her people together under a streetlight, Talley radioed Metzger for copies of the floor plan. He passed them out as everyone assembled, and gave a fast overview of his conversations with Rooney, describing what he knew of the house and the people within it.
Martin stood next to him, arms crossed tightly, squinting at him with what Talley began to feel was a critical suspicion.
“Have you cut the power and phones?”
“We blocked the phones. I didn’t see any reason to cut the power until we knew for sure what we were dealing with.”
Martin told her intelligence officer, a sergeant named Rojas, to have someone from the utility companies standing by if they needed to pull the plug.
Metzger pointed up the street.
“They’re already standing by. See that guy in the Duke cap? That’s him.”
The tactical team supervisor, a veteran sergeant named Carl Hicks, studied the floor plan sketches, and seemed irritated when Talley couldn’t produce actual city floor plans.
“Do we know where they’re keeping the hostages?”
“No.”
“How about the location of the subjects?”
“The room immediately to our right of the front door is the father’s office. Rooney is usually in there when he talks to me, but I can’t say if he sticks. I know he moves through the house to keep an eye on the perimeter, but he’s buttoned up pretty well. The shades are down over every window except the French doors overlooking the pool in back. They don’t have drapes back there, but he’s got the lights off.”