Page 7 of Save Her Life

Once Garrison closed the door behind him, he bellowed, “Listen up, everyone. The FBI’s here. This is…” He turned to her.

“Special Agent Sandra Vos.”

“Vos, right.” He smiled, though Sandra didn’t understand why. “She’s here to relieve Leon as primary negotiator.”

A man in his late forties pushed out his chair from a work surface. He had been seated next to another man, who was in his late thirties, early forties.

“Fox meet Wolfe. His role is coach,” Garrison said, and she understood why he’d smiled before. He must have been planning this little play on words, knowing that one meaning of Vos was fox. Sandra’s father used to always say,Sandy, you’re clever as a fox, my girl.

“Ray’s my first name,” the coach said.

“Sandra.” She’d be working closely with Ray as the coach’s job was to support her by monitoring communication and passing her notes when he picked up on something she might have missed.

Garrison abandoned humor as he circled the room, introducing everyone and their roles. “Detective Richie Osborn, scribe, and Detective Patrick Mahoney, intelligence officer and profiler. Lieutenant Amos Bowen is the team coordinator, but he’s out there doing his thing right now.”

The scribe would record the calls and make a short and concise script of any discussions and reactions from each side. With Patrick playing double roles, he’d jot down essential information to the markerboard and play a part in gathering background information on the HT and hostages. Sandra was more fixated on what the team coordinator was up to. One aspect of his job was to advise the SWAT commander on any developments and determine if it was time for a physical response. But if they were discussing that with any intention, she wasn’t sure why they’d called her. “Excuse me, but whatthingexactly?”

“Whether it’s time to take stronger measures.”

“From my understanding, we haven’t made contact with the HT. Is force being considered?”

Garrison smiled tightly. “It is. Four hours have already passed, and as you just pointed out, there hasn’t been any communication.”

Sandra stiffened. “Radio silence is no reason to move in. If anything, it’s the opposite. You’d be going in blind, and innocent people will die.”Sam.Not that he was killed by police, but the memory of his loss rolled over her, nonetheless. It was down to people making poor choices.

“Not everyone sees it that way, but you’ll be alerted if action is going to be taken.”

She understood preparing for the worst-case scenario, but she had to keep her mind set on peaceful resolution. She’d also just arrived and wasn’t about to insert herself as some ego-driven fed. No doubt there was a lot of skill and experience in this room. “Please run me through everything that’s happened so far.”

“Want a coffee while we talk?” Garrison pointed to a coffee machine in an alcove. A few mugs were beside it with a small container of sugar packets and some whitener.

“I’m good for now, but thank you.”

“All right, then.” Garrison gestured for her to sit at the table, and he joined her, as did the rest of the team except for Leon, who stood next to them.

“You probably know the basics. No contact, no ID, the situation came to our attention through a 911 call?” Garrison asked.

“I do know all that. Do we have a recording of the call? I’d like to listen to it.”

Garrison gestured to Patrick, who responded. “We have it, and that won’t be a problem. The call was disconnected before she was able to provide her name, but we traced the number to a Heidi Norris, thirty-seven. We reached out to her husband, and he confirmed she’d popped out for groceries. An officer is at hishome with him now and will remain there for the duration of the incident.”

“As you can see, the HT has barricaded the front of the store. That happened not long after we arrived on scene,” Garrison said, moving the briefing along at a swift pace. “He used hostages to do this, but with the sun reflecting off the glass, it was hard to make out much more than silhouettes.”

The early planning was an even stronger indication that the HT was thinking clearly. Rationally, however, was debatable.

“There are three ingress and egress points. One door in the front, two in the rear, counting the rollup at the delivery dock. All are locked. SWAT officers are set up to watch the rear in case he decides to slip out,” Garrison said.

“We believe he’s holding the hostages in an employee lunchroom,” Patrick said, as he slipped her a blueprint of the store. “It’s an interior room on the second floor.”

It would be an intelligent choice as no windows cut back risk to himself and hostages escaping. “The board notes approximately thirty to forty hostages. How was that estimate determined?”

“There are thirty vehicles in the lot, with five belonging to employees on shift. There are five more staff in addition. We’ve run all the plates and have a list of names.” Patrick handed her more paperwork.

“The number could be higher if people walked here, or more than one person arrived per vehicle. Have we tried reaching out to these people?” She usedweas an intentional effort to build camaraderie. Not everyone loved it when the FBI walked in, and this was one subtle way that might ingratiate herself with them.

“No answers on numbers linked to the owners of the vehicles. We believe the HT has confiscated everyone’s cellphones,” Patrick said with a frustrated sigh.

Another smart move. “One of those vehicles could also belong to the HT,” she put in.

---