by Bob Blanton
“May I ask what it’s about?”
“It about an important news story she’s working on.”
A little later the reporter came on the line, “Jane Collins.”
“Ms. Collins, I’m Mohammad Abbas. I’m at the La Jolla Playhouse.”
“How are you doing? I’m just getting ready to head over there right now.”
“That’s good, because I’m holding everyone hostage and I think it’s important that the American public hears my demands.”
Matthew could hear a lot of buzzing on the other end of the line as Ms. Collins shouted out various orders.
“Ms. Collins.”
“Yes.”
“If you call the police I will start killing hostages. You should come quickly.”
“Don’t worry, I want the story. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Here’s my cell number if you need to contact me again.”
Mohammad wrote the number down.
“Good, I’ll be expecting you,” Mohammad said, then he hung up the phone.
“Great, he called the press,” Matthew said.
“That’s good, maybe they want to negotiate,” Emily said.
“Or they want an audience,” Matthew whispered. “Let’s go get the phone.”
“Won’t they notice us?” Emily asked.
“With all the milling around and crying up here, I don’t think so,” Matthew said. “They don’t look like they’re paying much attention to the stage.”
Once they retrieved the phone, Matthew and Emily worked their way toward the back of the stage, careful to avoid the attention of the terrorists standing along each side of the stage.
“Help me mask my cell phone use.”
“Sure, why don’t you hug me from behind and put your chin on my shoulder. That way the spaced-out look you get on your face won’t draw attention.”
Matthew used his and Emily’s bodies to shield the phone from the rest of the hostages and the terrorists and programmed a number into the speed dial.
“Agent Caruthers’ number?”
“Yeah, guess we may be talking to her a bunch tonight.”
“Great.”
“Okay, now let’s assume the position,” he said smiling, as he stepped behind her. He slid the phone into the inside pocket of his tux and ran the earpiece up between him and Emily so it would be hidden from view. Matthew moved closer to Emily and hugged her. With her high heels, his chin barely cleared her shoulder. “There, there don’t cry,” he teased.
“I just might,” Emily replied. “Now get to it.”
“Here goes nothing,” he said, as he opened the portal and pressed the speed dial.
The phone rang once before it was answered, “Agent Caruthers,” came the commanding voice of the FBI Agent.
“Hello, I’m Matthew Brandt,” Matthew whispered. “I’m at the La Jolla Playhouse.”
“You’re the kid from Solana Beach; I thought I recognized the name. You’d better not be playing games.”
“I’m not playing games; did the cops get here?”
“Yes, they found a dead security guard. We’re securing the area and will be there shortly. How come you’re the only one who called?”
“They said they were jamming the cell phones, but I just tried it anyway.”
“Okay, okay, just tell me the situation.”
“First, you should know that he just called a reporter, Jane Collins from Channel 3. He told her to not call the police and to come out here.”
“Great.” There was a brief pause then she came back on the line. “What else?”
“It looks like they’re all inside the theater now; I’m guessing fifteen to twenty of them. They’ve got bombs placed at all the doorways and four of them on the stage which is where they put all of us.”
“Go on.”
“They’ve got a big machine gun mounted in the middle of the theater, pointed at the stage. That’s all I know right now.”
“Thank you, now keep this line open.”
“I can’t, my battery won’t last that long and I don’t want to get caught,” Matthew replied. “I’ll call you back when I’ve got more.”
Matthew hung up the phone.
“Well?” Emily asked.
“I guess we wait and see,” Matthew replied. “I’m going to do a little more recon.”
Matthew switched his portal on and did a quick survey of the theater again. Nothing really had changed; he made a quick pass below the stage. It was a huge space, mostly empty, with four terrorists standing guard. There were also three of the small drums that Mohammad had identified as bombs.
“Let’s get lined up with one of these stage lights,” Matthew whispered to Emily, “I want to see what’s inside the bombs.
Once they had the light over Matthew’s shoulder, he opened his portal up one end directly over the barrel that was in the middle of the stage with the other pushed far enough away from his eye that the light could shine into it.
The barrel had a block of what Matthew assumed was C4 in the center with the nails filled in around it. The detonator was wired to a small radio receiver. Then he checked out the small boxes mounted against each of the doors. They had blocks of C4 with the detonator wired to a small radio and also what looked like a mercury switch wired in. There weren’t as many nails since the box was smaller than the barrels.
Then he did a quick tour around the outside again. A large van with FBI command center on the side coming up Torrey Pines road. It was followed by another van with SWAT on the side, then a caravan of cars that drove past Revelle Drive, jumped the curb and entered the parking lot from Torrey Pines Road.
“They’re staying out of view of anyone in the Playhouse,” Matthew thought. A helicopter circled overhead.
Agent Caruthers got out of one of the cars and started pointing.
“Set the command center up over there. Ops van right here. And let’s cover up the signage; we don’t need to get the locals worked up.”
Three men dragged some kind of vinyl material out of a locker under the van and covered the signs on the two vans.
Caruthers went to the FBI van. The antennas were raised and agents were pouring into the van, taking up seats at the different consoles.
“Jones, I want this whole area cordoned off as a no-fly zone; you should be expecting the TV news teams to be sending choppers out anytime now. Once they find they can’t get into the area by car, they’ll be trying to fly over.”
“Yes, ma’am. The Marines have sent choppers to help out. They’re just setting up,” one of the men said. He immediately keyed his mike. “This is Command One, we want a no-fly zone.”
“This is base, roger that. No-fly zone it is.”
Caruthers: “Can we get someone on the roof of the theater?”
Matthew shut the portal down, “The Cavalry’s here.”
“Now what?” Emily asked.
“We’ll have to wait and see. Where’s the head dude?”
“I think he’s still up front in the control room.”
Matthew looked up; he could see Mohammad sitting in the control room, as Emily had said. Suddenly a man burst into the room. “What’s the excitement?” Matthew asked.
“I don’t know,” Emily said. “He was over there by the back corner when he got all excited.”
Matthew turned his portal on and zoomed into Mohammad. He was dialing the phone again.
“Ms. Collins.”
“Yes.”
“I told you not to call the police.”
“I didn’t; they were here before I even got here. They’ve sealed the campus and won’t let anyone in.”
“I see. Well don’t go anywhere; I’m sure we’ll be doing that interview soon.” Mohammad hung up the phone.
Matthew did a quick scan by the corner Emily had pointed out then dialed Agent Caruthers again.
“Caruthers.”
“Matthew; they know you’re here. They just called the reporter.”
“How do you know
?”
“I read his lips,” Matthew said.
“So how do they know we’re here?”
“I’m not sure, but there’s some guy on a headset in the southwest corner of the theater.”
Matthew switched the portal over to see what was happening with the FBI.
“Seems they’re getting communication from the outside,” Agent Caruthers said to another agent, Fauget, according to his badge.
“Let’s check it out,” he replied.
“Command to Red One, status, over.”
“Red One, no activity here, out.”
“Command to Red Two, status, over.”
“Red Two, I can hear a lot of talking and scrambling around in there, but no outside activity, over.”
Fauget looked at Caruthers to see if she wanted to ask anything else. Caruthers just shrugged her shoulders.
“Command to Red Three, status.”
“Red Three, everything’s quiet, out.”
“Garcia,” Fauget said to one of the agents in the van.
An agent wearing camo looked up, “Yes, Sir.”
“They said it looked like something was going on in the southwest corner, go check it out.”
Garcia grabbed a small bag, yelled, “Yes, Sir,” and headed out.
“Garcia likes to sneak up on people,” Fauget said to Agent Caruthers.
“Good. Jones do we have a list of all the patrons yet?”
“Yes ma’am, we were able to get it from the theater manager. This hasn’t affected the main office. Here it is.” Jones handed the list over. “They’ve highlighted all the interesting names.”
Fauget scanned the list over Caruthers’ shoulder.
“God must be smiling on us. Can you believe this? We’ve got the commander of the Seal Team Training Facility in there and a couple of Marine Colonels from Special Ops, too. I know Walker and Reese, they’re hard-core bad asses. Maybe we should just sit back and let them handle the situation.”
“I don’t think we’re going to see “Under Siege” play out here.”
Matthew moved his camera over to the clipboard in Agent Fauget’s hand. Colonel Howard Marshall, Captain Jamal Walker and Colonel James Reese were highlighted.
“We should tell the kid to find them. Walker should be easy, he’s 6-4 and black.”
Agent Caruthers dialed Matthew’s cell, “It says the cell phone is not in service.”
“Maybe the jammers have kicked in,” Fauget said.
“I hope not, maybe the kid just switched the phone off to save the battery.”
Matthew dialed his phone, “I’m back. Do you need me to do anything?”
“We need you to find a Captain Jamal Walker, He’s six feet four inches, black. Navy.”
“Got it,” Matthew switched his portal off. “Emily, we need to find a Captain Jamal Walker. He’s in the Navy, but don’t let on.”
“That’s going to be kind of difficult; do we just ask everyone here?”
“I don’t think so. He’s six-four and black, I think he’ll stand out.”
“Okay, what do we say when we find him?”
“Tell him Fauget says hello,” Matthew replied. “Let me check out everyone first.”
Matthew turned the portal on and did a quick round of the stage. There were only three men that fit the description.
“Okay, there are three guys that might be him. Two are over on that side and one over here,” Matthew said. “I’ll check this guy out and you check the other two out, they’re talking to each other.”
“Okay,” Emily said, and headed out.
When he got a good look at his guy it was obvious that he was too young to be a Captain in the Navy, so he turned and moved back toward Emily.
He ran his portal out in front to see what was happening.
Emily had just reached the two men. She tapped one of them on the arm. “Do you know a Jamal Walker?”
“I’m Jamal Walker,” he replied. “Who are you?”
“I’m Emily. A guy named Fauget would like to have a chat with you.”
Captain Walker looked shocked. “How would he know I’m here, we didn’t see each other?”
“He’s not in here, but he’d still like to talk with you,” Emily said. “If you’ll follow me?” She turned and headed back toward Matthew and the back of the stage.
Captain Walker took a couple of quick strides to get alongside Emily. “Young lady, what’s going on?”
“My friend has a cell phone and they’d like to talk to you,” Emily replied in a whisper.
Captain Walker grabbed her arm. “You’ve got a cell phone? How is it working?”
“Don’t know, but it works,” Emily replied.
“How did you get it back here?”
“I hid it, and don’t bother to ask where,” Emily said as they finally reached Matthew.
Walker took one look at Matthew then looked back at Emily. “Aren’t you the kids that broke up that kidnapping ring in October?”
“Yes,” Matthew replied, as he put the cell phone in Captain Walker’s inside pocket. “Here’s the headset, they’re on speed dial number one, you just have to hold the key down and it’ll dial.”
Matthew turned his portal on and placed the other end in the trailer so he could hear both sides of the conversation.
“Caruthers here.”
“I hear my friend Fauget would like a chat,” Captain Walker whispered.
Caruthers handed the phone to Fauget.
“Hey, Jamal, I hear you’ve got a party going on in there.”
“We might have to call it a wake.”
“Not good?”
Captain Walker gave them a run down of the situation.
Caruthers was listening in; when he finished she looked at Fauget, “We got more from the kid.”
Fauget shrugged, “How many?”
“I don’t know, I’ve seen at least ten.”
“The kid says he thinks there are fifteen to twenty; you think he’s exaggerating?”
“Doesn’t seem the type,” Walker replied. “Give me a second.”
He turned to Matthew, “Where did you come up with fifteen or more?”
“Well there’s eight you can see, plus the guy in the booth. There are two kind of lying down in the corner back there, and I’ve seen at least three others in the control booth, so that’s fourteen. They must have guards posted at the entrance, so two more. Then there’s activity down below the stage. I hear someone cough once in awhile, so eighteen.”
“The kid’s numbers add up for me,” Captain Walker said. “I think you should count on them being close. What’s your read out there?”
“Well, they called the media; got that from the kid, too. We’ve got them blocked at the gates right now, but it looks like he wants some press coverage before his next move.”
“It doesn’t necessarily mean good news.”
“No it doesn’t. We’ve got twenty-two dead bodies out here, I assume there are a few more inside, so they’re looking more like suicide Jihadists.”
“Likely, none that I’ve seen have shaved.”
“Jim Reese and Howard Marshall both show up on the guest list; you should look them up.”
“Roger.”
“All right, let’s get our signals straight. I’m Bravo, Caruthers is Juliet. You’re Ranger One, Marshall Ranger Two, Reese Ranger Three and we’ll give the kid Ranger Four. The lead terrorist is Charlie One, the rest are Whiskies. Standard communication protocol going forward.”
“Bastard,” Captain Walker whispered.
“Call back if anything changes in there, and check back in twenty either way. Bravo out,” Fauget said.
“You’ve got it, Ranger One out,” Captain Walker replied and hung up the phone.
“You’ve got a sick sense of humor,” Matthew heard Agent Caruthers say to Fauget.
“Got to get your laughs where you can,” he replied.
Retribution
“What’s the matter?” Matthew
asked.
“Nothing, inside joke,” Captain Walker replied.
“Huh?”
“Our friend Fauget’s an ex-Army Ranger, so he’s saddled us with Ranger as a call sign. Not exactly what the Navy would choose.”
Captain Walker put one of his large arms around Emily and the other around Matthew and pulled them close to him.
“Hell of a situation,” he said.
“Yes,” Emily replied nervously. “Do you think there’s a way to get out of this?”
“As long as you’re breathing there’s hope,” Captain Walker replied. “You guys have really kept your cool. What you’ve done is amazing, getting a cell phone back here, calling the FBI and finding me.”
“What else could we do?” Matthew said.
“Most people would have shut down. If you look around, most of the people on this stage are almost frozen by fear; it takes something special to keep your head. Now are you guys going to be able to keep it together a little longer?”
“Until we’re out of here,” Matthew said.
Emily nodded her head in agreement.
“Okay, now we need to find two buddies of mine.”
“Sure, just tell us what they look like,” Emily said.
“Howard Marshall, he’s a tall, six-three skinny guy, gray hair; and James Reese, not quite so tall, about five-ten, bald and looks like a linebacker.”
Matthew did a quick loop around the stage with the portal.
“I think I saw the tall skinny guy over by the far wall, kind of looks like a Marine,” Matthew said. “And there’s a bald linebacker over there at the front of the stage.”
“That’s him,” Captain Walker said. “You two go find Marshall, I’ll get Reese.”
Matthew and Emily headed across the stage to find Howard Marshall.
“Matthew, you should tell Captain Walker about your gift.“
“Only if I have to,” Matthew said.
“How will you know when you have to? You can’t know what kind of plan he could come up with if he knew everything.”
“Just trust me,” Matthew said, “okay?”
They approached Colonel Marshall, working their way around so they would approach him from the front. He was holding hands with a pregnant woman, but his gaze was fixed toward the front of the theater.”
“Hi,” Matthew said.
Colonel Marshall shifted his gaze from the front of the theater to Matthew. “How’d you kids get caught in this?”
