Ted wasn't convinced that wouldn't have happened anyway. With no ransom forthcoming, it was almost certain that they were planning to kill Sam. Even with the ransom successfully delivered, there had been that risk. Sam was old enough to identify them, which made it risky to let him go, even if they got their money. Addison had been aware of that as well, which was why he had sent Peter to Tahoe to keep an eye on the others. In the end, it would have been easier for them to kill him than to return him alive. And with no ransom paid, they had every reason to kill him and dispose of him when they left. Rick and the others in the room with him were verbalizing their many fears. And after another hour of doing so, Rick turned to Ted.
“You realize what the chances are of our getting him out of there alive, don't you? Slim to none. With the emphasis on none.” He was being honest with his friend. There was a high probability that Sam was going to die, if he wasn't already dead.
“Then get more guys up here,” Ted said tersely, looking angrily at Rick. They hadn't come this far in order to lose the kid. Although they all knew they could. But Ted was on a mission to save him, as was Rick and everyone in the room, and outside. Sam was their mission.
“We have a small army here,” Rick bellowed at him. “For chrissake, did you look at how many are outside? We don't need more guys, we need a fucking miracle,” Rick said between clenched teeth. Sometimes when they got angry at each other, they did their best work.
“Then get one, make it happen. Get smarter guys in here. You can't just throw up your hands and let them kill this kid,” Ted said, looking anguished.
“Does that look like what's happening to you, you asshole?” Rick shouted at him, and there were so many other people talking in the room, you couldn't even hear him yell, or Ted yell back. They were going at it like two angry army sergeants, when the head of the SWAT team came up with another plan, but they all agreed it wouldn't work. It would leave the rescuers vulnerable to open fire from the house. Peter had picked the perfect place. It was damn near impossible to get the boy out of the house and off the property, and one thing Rick already knew, and Ted was coming to understand, a lot of men were liable to die that night, rescuing one boy. But that was what they had to do. The others knew it too.
“I can't just walk my guys into a slaughter,” the head of the SWAT team said unhappily to Ted. “We've got to give them a halfway decent chance to get the kid, and get out again.”
“I know,” Ted said, looking miserable. It wasn't going well, and he was glad Fernanda wasn't in the room to hear it. At nine o'clock that night, he and Rick walked outside. They still didn't have a plan that worked, and he was beginning to fear they never would, or not in time. They had all agreed hours earlier they had to get Sam out by dawn. Once the kidnappers were awake on the following morning, the risk would be too great, and from everything they knew, they didn't have another day. They were planning to call Fernanda sometime the next day for the final word. This was it. Dawn was in nine hours, and time was running out. “Shit, I hate this,” Ted said, looking at Rick, as he leaned against a tree. No one had come up with anything that worked. They were sending the plane up for reconnaissance in another hour, using infrared and heat-seeking devices, neither of which would work inside the house. One of the communications trucks was devoted entirely to them.
“I hate this too,” Rick said quietly. They were both running out of fire and steam. It was going to be a long night.
“What the hell am I going to tell her?” Ted said, looking agonized. “That the best SWAT team we've got, and yours, can't save her kid?” He couldn't even imagine telling her the boy was dead. And he might already be. Things were not looking good, to say the least.
“You're falling in love with her, aren't you?” Rick said out of the blue, and Ted stared up at him as though he were insane. It wasn't the kind of thing men said to each other, but once in a while they did. And Rick just had.
“Are you nuts? I'm a cop, for chrissake. She's a victim, so is her son.” He looked outraged at the thought, and angry at Rick again for suggesting it. But his friend wasn't fooled, even if Ted was fooling himself, which Rick was sure he was.
“She's also a woman, and you're a man. She's beautiful and vulnerable. You've been staying at her house for a week. You didn't have to do that, and you did. You're also a guy who hasn't slept with his wife for about five years, if my memory is correct on that, since the last time we talked about it. You're human, for God's sake. Just don't let it interfere with your job. A lot of guys are putting their lives on the line here. Don't send a lot of guys in to get slaughtered, if we can't get them or the kid out again.” Ted hung his head, and looked up at Rick again a minute later. There were tears in his eyes and he hadn't admitted or denied what Rick had said about Fernanda. He wasn't sure himself if he was right. But it had occurred to him that night. He was as worried about her as he was about her son.
“There has to be a way to get him out alive” was all Ted said.
“Some of that's going to depend on the kid, and the guy you've got inside. We can't control it all.” Not to mention luck, and fate, and the other kidnappers, and the skill of the men who went in. There were so many unpredictable elements, none of which could be controlled. Sometimes you had everything running against you and you came up lucky. Other times, everything was lined up perfectly, and it all went wrong. It was the luck of the draw.
“What about her?” Rick asked quietly again. “How does she feel?” Rick meant about Ted, not her son. It was a shorthand they both understand, born of many years together.
“I don't know.” Ted looked miserable. “I'm a married man.”
“You and Shirley should have gotten divorced years ago,” Rick said honestly. “You both deserve better than you've got.”
“She's my best friend.”
“You're not in love with her. I'm not sure you ever were. You grew up together, you were like brother and sister when I met you. It was like one of those arranged marriages they used to do a hundred years ago. Everyone expected you to get married, and it worked for them. So you did.” Ted knew he wasn't wrong. Shirley's father had been his father's boss for most of his adult life, and they were so proud of him when he got engaged to her. He'd never gone out with other girls. Never thought of it. Until way too late. And then, out of sheer decency, he'd been faithful to her, and still was, which was rare for a cop. Their stressful lives and crazy schedules, rarely seeing their wives and families, or being on the same time clock with them, got them into a lot of trouble, and nearly had Ted a couple of times. Rick had always admired him for his iron will, iron pants he used to call it, when they worked together. He couldn't say as much for himself. But his own divorce had been a relief in the end. And now he had found a woman he really loved. He wanted the same for Ted. And if Fernanda was who he wanted, or was falling in love with, it was fine by him. He just hoped they didn't lose her kid. For her sake, as well as Ted's. It would be a tragedy she would never get over, nor forget, nor would he. And more than likely Ted would blame himself, if the mission wasn't a success. But Rick's commitment to get the kid out, and Ted's, had nothing to do with love. It was their job. The rest was gravy.
“She comes from a different world,” Ted said, looking worried, not even sure yet himself what he felt for her, but afraid there was something to what Rick was saying, enough to think about. And he had more than once, although he had said nothing of it to her. “She's led a different life. Her husband made half a billion dollars, for chrissake. He was a smart guy,” Ted said humbly, looking at his friend in the dark outside the motel. The others milling around were out of earshot.
“You're a smart guy too. And how smart was he? He lost it as fast as he made it, and killed himself, leaving his wife dead broke with three kids.” There was truth in that. Ted had a lot more money in the bank than she did at the moment. His future was secure, and so were his kids. He had worked hard for that for nearly thirty years.
“She went to Stanford. I went to hig
h school. I'm a cop.”
“You're a good guy. She should be so lucky.” They both knew Ted was a rarity in today's world. He was a good and decent man. Rick knew, and often admitted out of love for his old partner, that Ted was a better man than he. Ted never saw it that way, and had always defended Rick to the death. And sometimes had to. Rick had pissed a lot of people off before he left the department. That was just the way he was, and he had done it at the FBI too. He had a big mouth, and never hesitated to say what he thought. He was doing it now too, whether or not Ted wanted to hear it. Rick thought he should. Even if it upset him or made him angry. “I want you to be lucky too,” Rick said kindly. “You deserve it.” He didn't want to see his friend die a lonely man one day. And they both knew that's where he was headed, and had been for years.
“I can't just walk out on Shirley,” Ted said unhappily. He felt guilty already, but also incredibly attracted to Fernanda.
“Don't go there yet. See what happens after this mess is over. One day Shirley may walk out on you. She's smarter than you are. And if she meets the right guy one day, I've always thought she'd be the first one out the door. I'm surprised she hasn't done it.” Ted nodded, he had thought of that too. In some ways, she was less attached to the idea of their marriage than he was. She was just lazy, and she said it herself, although she loved him too. But she had said several times recently that she wouldn't have minded living alone, might have preferred it, and felt as though she did anyway, as little as they saw each other. And he felt that way too. It was a lonely life with her. They no longer liked any of the same things or people. The only thing that had held them together for twenty-eight years was their kids. And they were gone, and had been for several years. “You don't need to figure it out tonight. Have you said anything to Fernanda?” Rick was curious about it, and had been since they met her. There was an easy intimacy between her and Ted that had an innocence to it, and assumed a bond neither knew they had. It was a kind of natural closeness that had hit Rick right away. She seemed like the perfect woman for him, to Rick as well as Ted. Ted had felt it, but had never said anything about it to her. He wouldn't have dared, or even wanted to, in the circumstances in which they'd met. And he had no idea if she felt anything for him, except for the job he was doing for her, in trying to protect her and her kids. And with Sam having gotten kidnapped anyway, it was certainly no victory for him, in his eyes at least.
“I haven't said anything,” Ted confirmed. “This is hardly the time.” They both agreed on that. And he didn't even know if he'd have the guts to when it was over. Somehow, it didn't seem right to him. It was taking unfair advantage of her.
“I think she likes you,” Rick suggested, and Ted grinned. They sounded like two kids in high school, or younger. Two boys shooting marbles on the playground at recess, talking about a girl in sixth grade. But it was a relief talking about Ted's feelings for Fernanda, instead of Sam's life-and-death situation for a few minutes. Rick and Ted needed the relief.
“I like her too,” Ted said softly, thinking of the way she looked when they talked for hours in the dark, or she fell asleep on the floor next to him, waiting for news of Sam. His heart had melted then.
“Then go for it,” Rick whispered. “Life is short.” They both knew that, had had ample proof of it over the years, and would again.
“That's for sure,” Ted said with a sigh, and moved away from the tree he'd been leaning on while they talked. It had been an interesting conversation, but they had more important things to do. It had been a good break for both of them. Ted particularly. He liked hearing what Rick thought, about all of it. He had unlimited respect for him.
Rick followed him back inside, thinking about what Ted had admitted to him, and as soon as they walked in the door of the command post, they both got swept up in the discussions and arguments again. It was midnight finally when they all agreed on a plan. It wasn't foolproof by any means, but it was the best they could do. The head of the SWAT team said they would start moving toward the house just before dawn, and he suggested to everyone that they try to get some sleep in the meantime. Ted left the office at one o'clock and headed toward Fernanda's room, to see how she was doing.
She was alone in the room when he walked past. The door was closed, but he could see through the window that the lights were on, and she was lying on the bed, her eyes were open, and she was staring into space. And he waved at her. She got up instantly, and opened the door to him, afraid the kidnappers might have called. Her phone lines were being forwarded to a communications truck outside.
“What's happening?” she asked anxiously, and he was quick to reassure her. The hours since they'd gotten there had seemed interminable to her, and to all of them. The teams were itching to get going, and tackle what they had come here to do. Many of them were wandering around outside in body armor, and assault suits, and camouflage.
“We're moving soon.”
“When?” Her eyes searched his.
“Right before dawn.”
“Have you heard anything from the house?” she asked anxiously. There were still policemen there with Will, manning her phones, but Ted knew that as recently as an hour before, no further calls had come in from Peter, nor his colleagues. Ted was sure there was no way he could call them. He had done all he could do. And if they managed to save Sam at all, it would be in great part thanks to him. Without his lead, the boy would be dead for sure. Now it was up to them to take the ball he'd handed them and run like hell. And they would. Soon.
“He hasn't called again,” Ted answered her, and she nodded. News of Sam at this point was too much to hope for. “Everything is quiet.” They had a PG&E truck stationed near the driveway to the house, with communications and surveillance equipment in it, and there had been no movement there either. In fact, one of their commandos sitting on top of a hill with infrared telescopic binoculars said that the house had been dark for hours. Ted hoped they'd all still be sleeping when they got there. The element of surprise was essential, even if it meant no help from Peter. That would have been too much to ask for. “Are you all right?” Ted asked her quietly, trying not to think of his conversation with Rick earlier that night. He didn't want to say or do anything foolish, now that he had admitted it to him, which made his feelings for Fernanda seem that much more real. She nodded, and seemed to hesitate as he watched her.
“I want this to be over,” she said, looking frightened, “but I'm afraid for it to be.” Right now they could still assume that Sam was alive, or at least they hoped so. Earlier that night, she had put in a call to Father Wallis, and found quiet comfort in his reassurance.
“It'll be over soon,” Ted promised her, but he didn't want to assure her that everything would be fine. They were empty words at this point, and she knew it. For better or worse, they would be moving soon.
“Are you going with them?” Her eyes searched his, and he nodded.
“Only as far as the base of the driveway.” The rest was up to the SWAT team and FBI commandos. One of the prep teams had already set up a nest for them in the bushes. It was shrouded in foliage, but at least they'd be near when the shit hit the fan, and it would for sure.
“Can I come with you?” He shook his head firmly, although her eyes pleaded with him. There was no way he could allow her to. It was far too dangerous, he couldn't let her do it. If things went wrong, she could get caught in crossfire, or hit with rifle or machine-gun fire if the kidnappers tried to escape, and hit the nest with a blaze of fire on their way out. It was impossible to predict. “Why don't you try to get some sleep?” he suggested, although he suspected it would be futile for her.
“Will you tell me when you leave?” She wanted to know what was happening and when, which was understandable. It was her son they were risking their lives for. And she wanted to be psychically linked to him when they went, willing him to live. Ted nodded, and promised to advise her when the teams moved out, and then she looked panicked. She had come to rely on him. He was her guide through
the unfamiliar jungles of fear. “Where will you be till then?”
He pointed. “My room is two doors down.” He was sharing it with three other men from the city. And Rick was right next door.
Fernanda looked at Ted strangely for a minute, as though she wanted him to step into her room. And they just stood there for a long moment, looking at each other, as Ted felt as though he could read her mind. “Do you want me to come in for a few minutes?” She nodded. There was nothing surreptitious or clandestine about it. The curtains were wide open, the lights were on, and anyone could see into the room.
Ted followed Fernanda into the room, and sat down in the only chair in the room, while Fernanda sat on the bed and looked nervously at him. It was going to be a long night for both of them, and there was no way that she was going to sleep. Her child's life was on the line, and if the worst happened, she wanted to at least spend the night thinking of him. She couldn't even imagine what she was going to tell the other children, if something happened. Ashley didn't even know that Sam had been kidnapped. And after losing their father six months before, she couldn't begin to imagine the blow it would be to them if Sam was killed. She had talked to Will a few hours before. He was trying to be strong, but by the end of the conversation, they were both in tears. In spite of all that, Ted thought she was holding up remarkably. He didn't think he could have kept himself together as staunchly as she had, if it had been one of his kids.
“I don't suppose there's any chance you'll get some sleep?” Ted smiled at her. He was every bit as exhausted as she was, but it was different for him. It was his job.
“I don't think so,” she said honestly. It was only a matter of hours now before the SWAT team and FBI commandos began their raid on the house. “I wish we'd heard from them again.”
“So do I.” Ted was being equally honest with her. “But maybe it's a good sign that we didn't. I think they were probably planning to call you tomorrow and see if you had the funds for them.” A hundred million dollars. It still seemed incredible to him. Even more so that a few years before, her husband could have paid it with ease. It seemed miraculous now that something like this had never happened to him. And in that case, Ted was fairly sure that Fernanda would have been the victim, and not the kids. “Did you eat anything?” There had been cartons of sandwiches circulating for hours, stacks of pizzas, and enough doughnuts to kill all of them. Coffee had been the mainstay that evening for everyone but the SWAT teams, and gallons of Coca-Cola. They all needed the caffeine as they formulated their plans. And now probably most of them were finding it impossible to sleep. Everyone was living on adrenaline. Fernanda was just functioning on anxiety and terror, as she sat wide-eyed on the bed looking at him, wondering if life would ever be normal again.
Ransom Page 27
