Page 8 of Save Her Life

“Which I’m keeping in mind, but without more to go on aside from male, that’s not getting us anywhere yet. I’ve also pulled backgrounds on the employees. All clean.” He handed her another stack of paper.

Until they knew more, they had to come at this situation from every angle they could think of, and an inside job was just one possibility. She was impressed Patrick thought of this. She looked at the top sheet. It hadManagerhandwritten in black marker. Brad Stevens was only thirty-one. She shuffled through the pages, noting everyone’s names and job titles. “This is terrific. Where did you get the employee names?”

“The store’s assistant manager. A Marsha Jackson. She’s at home today and available to us if we need anything else.”

“That’s great.” She was building up quite a pile of paper on the table in front of her and lifted the store’s blueprint. “Jackson get this for you too?”

Patrick shook his head. “That came from the plaza owner, a cooperative man as well.”

Bowen and SWAT would use this to strategize entry points. She spotted the three that Garrison had mentioned.

The blueprint had been marked up to indicate the different sections of the store. The place was one story aside from an upstairs office space and a room labeledlunchroom. The main level included a pharmacy, a delicatessen, a seafood counter, and a warehouse with shipping and receiving in the back. She set aside the blueprint and looked at Leon. “Tell me everything you tried to establish contact.”

“No ID, so no cell phone to try. No answer on the store’s landline, or through any suspected hostages’ phone, as Patrick told you. We got a throw phone to the door, but he refused to accept it. He sent a hostage to check it out but had her leave itthere. We could see that he was holding a gun to her from the side. No clear sightline to take a shot,” Leon laid out.

Thank God for that!When she looked closer at the video monitor, she saw the phone was still in front of the door. It allowed a single-line connection from the device to a programmed number. In this case, it would feed back to a phone in the MCV. Her first goal was to get that into the HT’s hands. “When was the last time you tried to make contact?”

“An hour ago,” Leon said, “using the bullhorn again and trying to get him to retrieve the throw phone.”

“And where would I find that bullhorn?” Sandra cocked her eyebrows.

Leon pulled it out of a cabinet and handed it over. “Good luck, Vos. You’ll need it. But if that is all you’ll be needing from me, I’m gonna go.” Leon looked at Garrison, who nodded his approval for the negotiator to leave.

She followed Leon out with the bullhorn in her hand. She stood at the front of the MCV to shelter herself from the ever-present media, but it also put her in a vulnerable position. Regardless of her bulletproof vest. But with the amount of fire power around, if the HT showed himself to take a shot at her, he’d likely be taken out before he had the chance. She turned the bullhorn on and held it to her mouth. She knew just how far away to position it to avoid feedback.

“I can only imagine how afraid you must be. It looks like you don’t want to talk. Maybe you fear if you come out to collect the phone, someone out here will shoot you. I won’t let that happen. I’m Special Agent Sandra Vos with the FBI, and I’m sure you don’t want to spend your entire evening in there. Tell me what you’d like to end this, and let me help you.” She spoke slowly and used a calm tone to project authority and trustworthiness. It was unlikely to trigger a defensive reaction. “I’d like to help get you home safe and sound. If that sounds good to you, just collect thephone, and I’ll call you.” She intentionally didn’t set a clock to it. In hostage situations, if actions or decisions were rushed, that was when people got hurt, or worse, dead. She also addressed a basic human need by assuring his safety. She clicked the bullhorn off and turned to go back inside the command vehicle.

“Excuse me!” a man yelled out, his voice ringing with panic.

She pivoted and saw he was being held back by a uniformed officer. But she was curious what made him risk jail by breaking through the cordon.

“Please, wait,” she shouted to the officers. “Let me hear what he has to say.” She guided the man behind the MCV for cover just in case things took a drastic turn.

“Thank God. No one else is listening to me.” The man was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. “My pregnant wife is in there!”

FOUR

When hostages were involved, the stakes were always high, but a pregnant woman ratcheted up the urgency. Sandra stuck her head inside the command vehicle to have the information officer come out and talk with the man, while she returned to her post in case there was a development with the HT.

A few minutes later, Patrick Mahoney was back and passing on what he’d learned. “His name’s Joshua Cobb. His wife, Megan, is eight months pregnant with their first child.”

Their first…Somehow, that made it even more crucial Sandra find a way to get her out of there. Once she established communication with the hostage taker, she’d do her best to have her sent out first.

Patrick continued. “She had a craving for ice cream, he was watching hockey and wouldn’t go get it. So she did. He caught the incident on the news and hurried over.”

“The guy must be full of regret,” Richie, the scribe, put in.

“Oh, he is.”

“Look!” Ray pointed at the monitor.

The door of the grocery store opened, and one of the hostages came out and grabbed the phone. It all happened quickly.

“Oh, that’s a good sign,” Ray said. “Our guy’s ready to talk.”

“We’ll let some time pass. If he doesn’t call, then I will.” Sandra set the timer on her phone for ten minutes. If the HT hadn’t called by then, she would initiate contact.

“Why wait?” Garrison asked.

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