“This is the Chicago building.” Hildgen seemed a bit taken aback they didn’t know.
“Really?” Pinder raised an eye brow and looked around for a bit before returning his eyes to the security guard. “I’d heard about it, I….” his voice trailed off as he took another look around before lowering his voice “I thought it would be bigger.”
“Most people do, sir.” She replied with a slight smile.
“Chicago building?” Maggie phrased it like a question.
“Its’ a landmark, Lieutenant.” Pinder explained, momentarily pleased that he was one with the answers. “It was the classy place to stay in the thirties.”
“I see, sir.” Maggie nodded and wondered what the hell this had to do with their current situation.
“Is it still a hotel?” Pinder had shifted gears and was back in the real world.
“Naw,” The woman shook her head once. “It’s a dorm for an art college.”
“Everyone accounted for?” Pinder asked as Maggie felt her finger slide to the safety of her M16 A3.
“Most people left when the trouble started. “ Hilgen shifted her weight as she explained. Maggie suddenly noticed how tired the security guard looked. “A few family still hung around and some of the students but that’s it.”
“Has anyone been checking the rooms?” Maggie’s eyes widened a bit as she asked.
“Not all of them,” Wildgen knew where she was going and tried to explain. “Its’ a big building, girl.”
Maggie nodded as Pinder continued to ask questions in the antiseptic light of the coffee shop.
“Is everyone in the building here?” His right hand played around the room for a second.
“As far as I know, yes.” Hilgen tilted her head in reply.
“Okay,” Pinder gave half a smile and nodded before turning to his Lieutenant. “Any ideas, Maggie?”
“We need to secure this place and set up a perimeter, sir.” Maggie replied quickly.
“Very well.”
“Sergeant Symons, Esterhaus.” Maggie turned to face the already approaching soldiers. “I need you over here.”
“Sir,” They addressed the senior officer before turning to Maggie. Esterhaus was the first speak. “Yes, ma’am?”
“We need to secure our surroundings and get a perimeter set up,” She looked at them both for a beat. “Give me some ideas, people.”
“Ma’am ,“ Esterhaus nodded before continuing. “We should first post guards at the fire escapes and stairwells.”
“Why not just lock them up?” Pinder interjected. He was thinking of all the unchecked rooms.
There was a pause as Symons and Esterhaus exchanged glances. Maggie nodded to them to continue. Symons spoke up.”Not to disagree with you, sir. But, if the front door is breached, we will need a place to run.”
“I see…” He nodded.
“Posting guards would also prevent anything from coming down the stairs and surprising us, sir” Esterhaus concluded the idea.
“Good,” Pinder nodded again.
“What else?” Maggie kept her command authority face on.
“Ma’am, we need to see the layout of this place.” Symons offered. Maggie looked left and saw Hildgen had stolen away for a coffee. Maggie tilted her head in invitation to join them.
“What’s up?” She muttered, clearly coffee time was her time.
“My boys here need a tour of this place.” Maggie wanted to make sure that Hildgen didn’t feel slighted: “We’re not second guessing that you have this place locked up. We just need to see some of the rooms and stuff, okay?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“What else?” Maggie turned to face them again. This was serious, damn it. If someone drops the ball someone dies. She kept a straight face while a voice inside said; that’s’ already happened hasn’t it?
“We need to watch the front door,” Symons said with a thoughtful sigh. “Maybe take one of those big couches in there and prop it up against the door.”
“That won’t help, Sergeant.” Maggie shook her head. “The door swings outward.”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am.” Symons replied. “I was thinking it would prevent those things from seeing us in here.”
“That,” Pinder interjected by pointing slightly in Symons direction. “Is a very good idea.”
“That’s using your heads, gentlemen.” Maggie nodded her approval to both her people. “Lets’ do it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Mr. Esterhaus, round up the other platoon leaders and follow Miss Hilgen,” Maggie glanced at the security guard who had already guessed where the conversation was headed and was finishing her coffee quickly.
Yes, ma’am.” Esterhaus noticed Maggie’s serious side was out and followed along. It was the right thing to do. If you stopped for just a second to think, you could get the shakes from what was going on out there. He tapped a few people on the shoulder while following Hildgen’s through a hallway that led to one of the fire escapes. Esterhaus paused at the fire door and turned around. He held up two fingers and pointed at the door. Maggie nodded in agreement.
“Chalmers, Anthony.” Both men looked up at the sound of their names. It felt good to be doing something again. “LT says you’re with me.”
‘Yes, sir.”
Maggie turned away when Esterhaus began explaining to the two privates what was going on. She knew him, he’d get it right. She returned her attention to Pinder and Symons. Was it just her imagination or did Pinder always seem extra interested when she and Symons were together? I feel like I’m getting paranoid, she diagnosed herself.
“Sergeant Symons,” Maggie looked up at him and made a point of avoiding his blue eyes. “Feel like doing some furniture moving?”
“You and me, ma’am?” Symons asked, surprised.
“No,” she paused in mid-word and flared her eyes. “Wait a minute, you don’t think I can move furniture?!”
“No, ma’am. That’s not what I meant, ma’am.” Symons tried not to show emotion at her outburst. How did I get myself into this? He prepared himself for a Maggie shitstorm.
“Perhaps the Sergeant meant that you had more important things to do.” Pinder interjected, an ever so slight smile was visible at the corners of his mouth and in the tone of his voice.
Maggie turned abruptly to Pinder. Killjoy, she thought. She then leveled an inquisitor’s glare at Symons. “Sergeant?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Symons nodded in agreement. “That’s’ what I meant, ma’am.”
“Take Bradley with you. “ She ordered, her eyes narrowed and her mouth curled upward slightly.
“Yes, ma’am.” Brett played along in front of Pinder. He nodded, his blues winked and he called Bradley over to brief him.
“And one more thing, “ Maggie added with a sudden note of seriousness. “Make it quiet, real quiet.”
“You got it, Ma’am.” Brett understood.
“Under no circumstances are you to open fire, clear?” Maggie’s hand rose up and played along to the rhythm of her words. Brett nodded an affirmative.
“Roger that, ma’am.” Brett turned and found Bradley with a raise of his hand.
“Why do you do that?” Pinder was eyeing her with a hint of amusement.
“Do what, sir?” Maggie asked.
“Pick on the Sergeant like that.” Pinder motioned over to Symons who was busy talking to Bradley.
“Just trying to keep him on his toes.” She smiled and turned toward Pinder. “Plus, it is kind of fun, sir.”
He nodded his head with a knowing smile. Shit, he knows. Maggie felt like a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar. How did he figure it out? No matter, Brett was one hell of a cookie jar. Maggie paused and almost spoke out loud. Where the hell did that thought come from?
“He was right, “Maggie decided to go for distraction to change the subject as she eyed the collection of students and parents situated around plastic tables and chairs. They were the kind of one piece
molds that usually served as cheap lawn furniture. “I do have something to do.”
“What’s that?” Pinder’s voice was calm. Maggie swore he had something else on his mind.
“Remember what we did on the bus, sir?” Maggie turned back to face the Captain. “The phones?” Her head turned back to the group of 12 or 15 and continued. “Since everyone else is busy, I want them to pitch in and find out what’s going on.”
“Why not start with the flat screen up there,” Pinder pointed at the wall above the cafeteria part of the coffee shop that still had a few muffins and sandwiches under pristine glass.
“Oh, shit.” Maggie exclaimed in surprise. She had missed it all this time. The screen had an insignia on it with the words:
EMERGENCY BROADCASTING SYSTEM
“Oh, shit.” She repeated. This time, her tone was a dozen shades darker.
“We’ll try another channel.” Pinder offered and grabbed a chair to stand on. He adjusted his glasses slightly to look closer at the tiny buttons on the flat screen. Just like all sets, it was designed for a remote control. He carefully placed his finger on a button and a hiss filled the air followed by something the technical people in television called snow. A blast of white and dark particles filled the screen in place of a picture. He turned to everyone in the room in apology and kept pressing.
Talking heads filled the screen and were suddenly replaced by a city in the mid day. The caption read: PHILADELPHIA. LIVE. Troops were suddenly visible through the daylight and refracting haze as they advanced up an avenue. She saw the patch on the shoulder of a couple of soldiers under a mature tree. Maggie wasn’t sure but it looked like these guys were with the Old Ironsides. Yeah, its’ First Armored. She was sure of it now. Heavy gunfire erupted as a young reporter tried to be heard over the unrelenting chaos.
“Go! Go! Go!” A command voice screamed. The camera turned a funny angle and the talking heads returned to the screen. They appeared to be caught off guard, unsure of what to say.
A woman with perfect blonde hair swallowed and spoke into the screen: “We’ll be right back.”
AMERICA UNDER ATTACK: THE ONGOING CRISIS. The caption read before showing a perfect family ordering food from a clown face in a drive through. “America, “ Pinder thought out loud. “Isn’t this happening anywhere else?”
“Not to American news it isn’t.” A pure Chicago accent answered.
“What?” Maggie had to ask.
“News coverage with us isn’t about covering the world. Its’ all about ratings and shit.” He answered. He was about 5 feet nine with a balding head and a rotund body. His eyebrows seemed to be set in a serious mood for eternity. His gaze did not flitter about but seemed to move slowly, carefully. Like a sniper looking for a target.
“Oh, daddy.” A voice scolded him from behind.
“What?” Two meaty hands appeared half way up his torso in mock surprise. “You think I don’t know what I’m talking about here?”
“Do you?” The voice was Maggie’s.
“Yeah, I do.” He returned her gaze with a cool, confident calm.
“You work on TV?” Maggie tried not to make it sound like an insult.
“Do I look like I work on TV?” His mouth curled into a sarcastic grimace. He was ugly and didn’t give a rats ass. “I work at the Trib.”
“You’re Nick Bestoni,” Pinder said the name with a tinge of reverence.
“Yeah, that’s me.” He nodded to Pinder then looked back at Maggie. For an instant the attitude surrendered to a quieter tone. He was a little embarrassed at being recognized. “So, when are we getting the hell out of here?”
“As soon as we find out what the hell’s going on.” She returned the attitude.
“What about your CO’s?” The man was used to asking questions. “Can’t they tell you?”
“We’ve lost touch with them.” Pinder answered.
The only reply Bestoni gave was a burrowing stare that said: Really? You’re kiddin’ me, right? Maggie stepped in now. “So, that’s why we’re watching TV.”
“You won’t learn anything from that.” Bestoni waved at the flat screen.
“Why not?” Pinder queried.
“Its’ a loop.” He said it plainly as he could.
“A loop?” Maggie had only heard the term when describing the area of Chicago they were in.
“It means its running over and over again.” Bestoni’s finger circled in the air a few times. “I saw that earlier today.”
“You’re kidding.” Pinder tilted his head and looked at the flat screen and then back at Bestoni. Before he could say anything else Bestoni continued:
“Yeah, its old news.” His hands played in front of his rotund belly. “Didn’t you see the shot of Philadelphia?”
Maggie and Pinder said nothing as they listened. They had seen it. But what was wrong with it? Maggie searched her memory of the gunfire, the reporter and the weirdly tilting camera with panicked audio before the signal was lost.
“It was daylight.” He explained in a tone usually reserved for the first grade. ”It ain’t been daylight for awhile and they said it was live.”
He’s right, Maggie tried to grasp and understand the information coming at her. She decided to access the source. “Was does it mean?”
“It means everyone at the studio has packed it in.” Bestoni explained in a lower, serious tone.” They’ve left.”
So where are they broadcasting from?” Maggie tried to follow along.
“I think they’ve switched over to a national feed. That means its’ all coming from somewhere other than Chicago.” Bestoni concluded with a glance at the screen.
“So how do we find out what’s going on?” Pinder queried.
“Network and Wifi’s still working.” Bestoni was looking at his android. You are reading my mind, Maggie thought as she watched his chubby thumb play across the screen. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Perfect,” Maggie put the exclamation point on the conversation as Bestoni nodded to a plain looking brown haired girl with shoulder length hair who had scolded him earlier. She definitely had his observant eyes. She already had her phone out and was tapping away on the screen with the speed of an expert blogger.
Something was missing. The room had an in-completeness to it. It felt like a piece of furniture had been snatched right from under their noses. Maggie slowly turned her head to take in the room. Yeah, something was missing.
“Corporal Myers,” She called out to a medic who quickly turned and walked over to Maggie. “Where is that couple at the bridge we rescued.”
“I….” He turned abruptly right and then left while speaking. “I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Let’s find them,” She ordered. Myers was about 5’10 with a peach fuzz face, blond hair and intelligent brown eyes. Maggie then paused for a beat and added: “what were they carrying, anyway?”
“I don’t know.” He answered quickly. “They would not let me see it, ma’am.”
“Then we definitely need to find them.” Maggie felt herself imagining the worst case scenario and then realized she had no idea in this situation what the worst case would be. If it was as bad as the spreading feeling of dread that had started in the pit of her stomach. It was bad.
Myers was looking down the hallway Hildgen had disappeared into. Halfway down it juked to the right and out of sight. A few soldiers seemed to be standing at the turning point. Their attention was captured by something out of sight. Myers turned back to Maggie to say something but she was already passed him, a quick nod to Myers was the order to follow.
“Moshood, you’re with me,” Maggie kept her voice low as she tapped him on the shoulder while passing by on her way to the hallway. He nodded, checking his sidearm and left the machine gun with his assistant.
Their feet traversed the linoleum and began padding down hallway carpet that had seen better days. The red primary color would have been beautiful in its day. But that was a lifetime ago. The decor was like
a faded feather in an aging chorus girls’ hair. Time had moved on, but the memory still remained.
“Excuse me, boys.” Maggie tapped Esterhaus and a few others on the shoulder and they made room instantly. Her destination came in sight. It was an open door to a hotel room. Antiseptic power saving lights from inside guided Maggie toward her destination. She took a deep breath and wondered, how bad can this get?
“He’s just got a bit of a scratch that’s all,” the woman’s was explaining when Maggie entered the room. She spotted Voorhees standing beside an aging writing desk that was in front of one of the two double beds that dominated the room. The bed spreads were clearly from a time when bright orange was in fashion. The room decoration took a back seat in Maggie’s mind to what was lying on the bed six feet from Voorhees.
The Drumhead Page 11
