“Excellent, Kat. I’m sure he has every detail memorized as well, even the trees outside the window.”
She nodded. “I’m sure that’s true.”
Ken’s voice interrupted. “We’ve got company again.”
Kat looked at him in alarm. “Where? What do you see?”
Ken shook his head, a thin smile on his lips. “Well, I guess I should feel honored.”
“What?”
“I’ve drawn an Air Force AWACS and they’re trying to be unobtrusive.” He inclined his head toward the captain’s side window where she could see the telltale saucer-shaped radar antenna on top of the four-engine turbojet in the distance.
“I’m sure he’s no threat, Ken,” Kat began.
He laughed. “You can say that again. They just don’t want me slipping away this time.”
“Kat? You still there?” Roger Matson’s voice coursed through the headset as relayed by the Gulfstream.
“Right here, Roger.”
“Two things. First, the Bill North you mentioned, is that the chairman of NorthLight Industries out of Salt Lake?”
“Yes. He and his crew have been invaluable. You know him?”
There was a hesitation on Matson’s end.
“By reputation only, Kat. Ah, let me ask you to call me back in about ten minutes. I’m expecting a call any minute regarding the fingerprints, and I’m working this with a single phone line from my home.”
“Okay,” she replied.
“Kat, one more thing. You’re FBI and I’m just a state cop. Couldn’t you get a federal warrant to look at Bostich, both his home and office? I mean, considering what you’ve discovered up there, at least all his computer files and materials should be impounded.”
She agreed immediately and asked Dane Bailey to break the connection and dial Clark Roberts at FBI headquarters.
“Stand by, Kat,” Dane responded.
Roberts’s voice followed a minute later, cold, distant, and suspicious.
“What do you require, Agent Bronsky?”
She briefly outlined the discoveries involving Rudy Bostich and her suspicions regarding the existence of a Mr. X.
“What’s the bottom line, Agent Bronsky? What are you requesting?”
“We need search warrants for Bostich’s office, home, and car, executed as fast as possible, with special emphasis on computer files and anything that might identify payments made to, or through, the individual behind the e-mail address I mentioned.”
There was an extended silence before Clark Roberts replied. “I assume these are the hijacker’s demands, Agent Bronsky?”
She felt her face begin to redden. “No, these are my considered recommendations.”
“You’re off the case, Agent Bronsky. I thought we made that clear.”
“I still have a badge and a commission and I’m still functional, so, no, that wasn’t clear, and I’m not about to go back and sit down in coach and shut my eyes when I’m right in the middle of all this.”
“This conversation is serving no purpose, Agent Bronsky. Unless you have something to relay from the captain, we might as well terminate this.”
“Who’s making the decisions on this case?”
“As I said, you’re not on this case. You’re a hostage. Drop it!”
Ken was raising his right hand to stop her as he punched the transmit button.
“Mr. Roberts? This is the hijacker, Captain Wolfe. Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Captain. What can I do for you?”
“A while ago I talked with the Acting Attorney General, Martin Springfield. I want to speak with Mr. Springfield again immediately.”
“Stand by, Captain. I’ll work on it.”
Less than two minutes later the voice of Martin Springfield came on the channel.
“Okay, Mr. Springfield. Here’s the deal. The FBI is refusing to listen to Agent Bronsky up here, who is doing a damn good job to try to satisfy my demands and end this. I’m going to put her on. You’re going to listen to what she’s recommended to her agency, and whatever they refuse to do, you’re going to make happen. Understand?”
“Depends entirely on what it is, Captain. You know you almost killed everyone back there at Telluride.”
“We’re not discussing that right now, Mr. Springfield. Here’s Agent Bronsky.”
He nodded to Kat and she pressed the button and repeated the same plea for search warrants.
Springfield’s voice came back incredulous.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Agent Bronsky! You want me to believe that Rudolph Bostich is in possession of criminal child pornography? Bullshit!”
“It’s here, I’ve seen it, I have not contaminated the evidence, it will be admissible, and it’s real and in substantial quantity, and Mr. Bostich is on tape essentially admitting it.”
“On tape?”
“I Mirandized him and interrogated him on tape, on his own personal tape recorder, in his sight, with his knowledge.”
“And he admitted this?”
“Not directly, sir. But what he did say on the record would get an indictment.”
There were a few seconds of silence and Kat jabbed the button again.
“Look, Mr. Springfield, you mentioned Telluride. We’re still airborne here, the captain is the only pilot aboard who can fly a Boeing and land us safely, he’s got a weapon, we’ve still got a lot of hostages, and this is a damned desperate situation, the successful conclusion of which all depends on satisfying Captain Wolfe’s demands before something tragic does happen. I know what we’ve found. For God’s sake, trust me! Get those warrants and execute them. If I’m wrong, and I’m not, but if somehow I was, all we’d do is exonerate Bostich.”
Ken punched the transmit button. “And don’t forget, Springfield, I’ve got my finger barely holding down the trigger of a bomb. Comply, or all these good people go up in smoke.”
Kat snapped her head to the left, her eyebrows raised, her eyes large as she searched the slight smile on his face.
Ken gestured toward the radio, then held a finger to his lips, and Kat diverted her gaze to the instrument panel as her mind furiously battled with the ethical obligation she knew she’d already decided to ignore.
Her finger was poised on the transmit button, but she couldn’t bring herself to push it.
There was a disgusted sigh on the other end. “In all my years in the law and law enforcement, I have never experienced a situation even remotely similar to this. A captive FBI agent dictating to the acting Attorney General of the United States. Christ! The answer is not only no, but hell, no!”
“Sir—” Kat began.
Another voice cut in on the frequency.
“Ah, Kat, this is Bill North. I’ve been listening in, and I’m going to suspend the radio link here for a minute and talk to the A.G. I’ll be right back.”
“All right,” Kat managed, expecting the transmitter to go off. Instead, the owner of the Gulfstream kept the channel open as his voice coursed through the line, identifying himself and his extensive connections with the current occupant of the White House—facts Kat had not known. Bill summarized his involvement, the radio relay, the use of the Gulfstream, and their present position.
“Mr. North, while I appreciate your good citizenship, I fail to see the reason for this interruption.”
“Very simple, Mr. Springfield. I’d like to ask you if you’ve lost your alleged mind?” The words were spoken with great calm.
“What?” Springfield asked.
“Listen carefully, Mr. Springfield. The FBI agent in that hijacked airplane out there has saved those people at least twice today by fast thinking, fast action, and pure bravery. While you sit back there in the Beltway and pontificate about how to respond to hijackers, your frontline troop, Kat Bronsky, is doing this by herself with virtually no support from her superiors in what is perhaps the most scandalous and politically inexcusable example of bureaucratic stupidity I’ve ever observed. I guarantee you my ne
xt call is going to be to the President, wherever in the world he is, and the next call you’re going to get after that will be directly from him ordering you to do what Agent Bronsky has already correctly asked you to do, and what common sense dictates needs to be done. So get off your goddamned high horse, Springfield, and order those warrants! She knows what she’s talking about. Bostich is a slime, and with what she’s found, he won’t last past this evening as a U.S. Attorney, much less as a candidate for U.S. Attorney General. I’ve been following this. You haven’t. Get moving.”
“Mr. North, considering I haven’t a clue who you are, I could take real offense at your tone.”
“And I, Springfield, could make it a major political objective of mine to remove you from this Administration forthwith. Or would you prefer to end a hijacking and keep the President out of this?”
“Why should I believe you’re known to this Administration?”
“Call the White House. I’ve got the backline number, if you don’t. Ask for Harry Raddison, who should still be in his office. He’s the assistant chief of staff, by the way.”
“I know who Raddison is.”
“I’ll hold for three minutes. I’d strongly advise you to call him immediately. Ask him who the hell Bill North is, and whether you should listen to one of the key contributors to the last campaign.”
The line was quiet for a few seconds until Martin Springfield’s voice returned.
“Okay, Mr. North. You’ve made your point. And on consideration, I think perhaps I can endorse your recommended course of action.”
“Understand this, Mr. Springfield. It is not my recommendation. It’s Agent Bronsky’s.”
“Whatever. Reconnect us, if you’d be so kind.”
“Oh, that’ll be no problem at all, Mr. Springfield. Actually, I guess I forgot to throw the switch. She’s been listening to this whole dialogue.”
THIRTY
Aboard AirBridge Flight 90. 4:49 P.M.
“You’re doing a fantastic job, Chris!” The accolade from the director back in Atlanta ignited a small glow of satisfaction that Chris Billings allowed himself to enjoy for no more than thirty seconds.
He was, he realized, sick to death of the words “alleged,” “purported,” and “unconfirmed.” It was time to verify for himself whether the pictures on the computer belonging to United States Attorney Rudolph Bostich were, in fact, child pornography.
“I’m going to be off for a while,” he told Atlanta. “I’ll leave the line open and the receiver here in the seat, but I need to try to get to the cockpit.”
He found Annette, relieved that she responded immediately with a nod.
“I heard Agent Bronsky make the offer,” she said as she escorted him forward and spoke to Ken on the interphone, motioning him in when the door popped open.
Chris Billings came through cautiously, his hand outstretched to Kat Bronsky, who shook it as Ken looked around and spoke.
“Hello, Mr. Billings.”
“Captain. Thank you for letting me come up. Agent Bronsky had told me—”
“I already know, Mr. Billings. I’m happy to have you see what kind of slimy individual Bostich really is. I hope you’ve been able to broadcast what’s going on.”
He nodded. “I’ll be honest with you, Captain. I’ve tried to be very balanced, but I’m not sure you’d approve of what I’ve been saying.”
Ken looked at him and smiled slightly before diverting his eyes forward.
“I don’t really care what you say about me, Mr. Billings. I very much care what you say about Rudy Bostich, the idiot judge in Connecticut, and about Bradley Lumin, who murdered my daughter.”
“You wanted to see these pictures?” Kat interjected before Billings could say more.
He nodded, and she adjusted the computer on her lap and entered a series of keystrokes that brought a list of files to the screen.
“This is the package of smut he apparently purchased and downloaded. Let me open several of them for you.” She looked over her shoulder first at Billings. “You have children, Mr. Billings?”
He shook his head no.
“A younger sister you care about, perhaps?”
“Actually, three older sisters I care about very much, and two little nieces.”
She nodded, her expression serious. “Then these will be doubly disturbing.”
He leaned over to get a close view of the screen, supporting his weight on the center console. The first picture drew a gasp, the second a more subdued reaction, and the third an affirmative “That’s enough.”
“No, there’s one more you need to see,” Kat told him, triggering the picture of Melinda Wolfe, which Ken had specifically asked her to show.
The picture swam into view as Kat explained its significance, and Chris Billings swallowed hard and looked away. “Oh, my God!”
Kat closed the file and turned the computer over. “You see Mr. Bostich’s card here?”
He looked back around, studied it, and nodded, then looked her in the eye. “Will you be filing charges?”
“I can’t guarantee that, since I’m not the prosecutor, but I guarantee the investigation will be unstoppable.” She searched his eyes for a few seconds. “And what about your reports? Does this change things for you as a reporter?”
He nodded. “Being an eyewitness to something always changes a journalist’s reports. But it also … changes the journalist. And I have to fight that.”
“You know that Lumin, the suspect, has been arrested, don’t you?” Kat asked.
“Yes. They relayed that to me from Atlanta,” Chris Billings said with a small laugh. “The police in Colorado apparently arrested him on an outstanding traffic warrant from Connecticut.”
Kat saw Ken Wolfe’s head snap around, his eyes probing Billings’s.
“On a traffic warrant?”
The newsman was nodding, but looking slightly alarmed. “That’s … that’s what we have so far.”
Ken slammed his fist into the padded edge of the glareshield, his teeth gritted. “Jesus Christ! JESUS!”
“What, Ken?” Kat asked, her heart rate accelerating.
Ken gathered up the flight plan from the center console and threw it toward the glareshield.
“DAMN, DAMN, DAMN, DAMN DAMN! They lied to me! I let myself expect some honesty, and they lied to me!”
“Ken, they arrested him. Why does it matter how?”
Chris Billings had backed toward the closed cockpit door as Ken grabbed and threw several aeronautical maps, growling and cursing.
“Ken? Ken, please, tell me what’s wrong with that?” Kat leaned over the center console and placed her hand on Ken’s shoulder, relieved that he didn’t resist.
Ken looked at her, his eyes narrowed with fury, his teeth clenched.
“Lumin murdered my daughter, but they can’t arrest him on that. That isn’t enough. They have to use a goddamn traffic warrant to justify arresting the animal. That’s INTOLERABLE!”
“They probably couldn’t get a murder warrant issued in time,” Kat said, thoroughly alarmed.
“NO! They didn’t want to comply with anything I’ve demanded, and this was a clever way to institutionally flip their finger at me once again. GODDAMMIT!”
Chris Billings looked at Kat and back to Ken. “Ah, Captain, I’m sorry to have upset you—”
Ken whirled around to look at him, then pulled the revolver from his map case and pointed the barrel toward the overhead panel. “They’ve never had any intention of listening to me!”
Kat shook his shoulder slightly.
“Ken, put the gun down. We’re close to a breakthrough with what Roger Matson is working on, what I’ve discovered, what you’ve managed to highlight. Lumin’s in jail. That’s what counts. Don’t panic because they used a meaningless warrant rather than the whole charge. The charges will be reinstituted as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, when Bostich admits it.”
“Or sooner. I think we ought to get that Connecti
cut judge on the line and—”
“Mr. Billings, please return to your seat,” Ken said, running the captain’s seat back on its rails and breaking Kat’s hold on his shoulder as he punched open the cockpit door.
“Ah, sure, Captain. Thank you for talking to me.”
Chris Billings beat a hasty retreat and closed the door behind him. Kat barely noticed his leaving, watching in alarm as Ken Wolfe took the .44 Magnum from his map case and began climbing out of the seat.
“Ken! What are you doing?”
Wolfe kept going.
“Ken, I’m not a pilot, and we’re in flight. You can’t leave me up here alone. What are you doing?”
“It’s on autopilot, Kat. And what am I doing? I’m going to give Mr. Bostich that precise choice we discussed. Sign a confession or die.”
She reached out again and took his sleeve. “Ken. You’re panicking and overreacting to this.”
“Overreacting?” He scowled at her, but kept the same position, half in, half out of the seat. Kat took it as a hopeful sign.
“Ken, you’re a consummate professional captain! You’d never leave your command chair unless there was another qualified pilot aboard! Look at what you’re trying to do!” She gestured to him, half in, half out. “What if something went wrong up here?”
“Something has gone wrong. They’ve lied to me!”
“Ken, listen to me! They didn’t lie! I didn’t lie. No one told you Lumin would be arrested on a murder warrant, they just said he’d be arrested. That’s the important point! You aren’t a law enforcement officer. You don’t know the hell we have to go through to get an arrest warrant. We’ll take the shortest distance between two points to get the job done anytime. Okay? It’s not a message. It’s not pointed.”
“Don’t you see the method, Kat? They’re not going to comply with a single demand of mine! Remember the C-one-thirty?”
“Ken, listen to me clinically, if nothing else!”
Slowly he sat back down. “What, Kat? More platitudes?”
“Focus, Ken! What do you want? What have you done all this for? To get Lumin off the street and arrested. He has been! Who cares what for? He’s off the streets. You wanted Bostich unmasked and confessing. Well, he sure is unmasked, and I think we’re pretty close to a confession. You wanted a grand jury, and they’re meeting, though not even the Attorney General can control what they decide. Ken, you’re getting it all done! Don’t blow it now, especially since one slip with that gun and we’ll never know the full extent of what Bostich did.”
The Last Hostage Page 35
