“I’ll be back.” Decker rolled his eyes and spoke in his best Governator voice. Cressly led Decker into a police mobile unit van set up with phone lines, then introduced him to Jack Ellenshaw, the FBI hostage negotiator. Ellenshaw was around forty with a long face and a prominent chin. Neatly dressed and neatly trimmed just like Cressly. The FBI liked them a certain way. Advancement could be based on an inch of hair length.

After Ellenshaw gave him a two-minute lecture on the electronics, he asked, “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Actually, I have.”

“One time, two times?”

“Two.”

“Were you successful?”

“I never lost a hostage,” Decker said, “One time the shooter died, one time the shooter lived.”

“Let me handle it. I’ll write down what you need to say on a pad of paper. Just stick with my lines and you’ll be okay.”

Decker didn’t answer. He had no intention of adhering to a script. He was an ad-lib-as-needed kind of guy. “Do you know how many people he has with him?”

“Three women and Cecil Dobbins.”

“The clerk, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“I heard he was injured.”

“He was shot in the arm. We need to get a move on.”

“How about the women? Names? Ages?”

“Amber Mitchell, twenty-six, Lita Bloch, eighteen, and Pamela Nelson, twenty-one.”

“Any of them have a medical condition?”

“We’re trying to find that out right now.”

“And you sure there’s no one else except those five?”

“Not sure of anything.”

“Whose line are you calling to get to Rudy?”

“Pamela Nelson. We need to get started.”

“Call him up.” Decker felt surprisingly calm until he heard the line ringing. When he heard the voice, his heart started beating full force.

CHAPTER 41

WHO THE FUCK is this?”

If Decker hadn’t recognized the timbre, he sure would have recognized the hostility. “It’s Lieutenant Peter Decker, Rudy. You asked for me.” Silence. “How are you doing?”

“How the fuck do you think I’m doing? All of a sudden, I’m looking down the barrel of the fucking U.S. Army. What the motherfucking hell is going on?”

The negotiator was writing like mad and pointing to his pad. Decker ignored him. “I’m not sure. I just got here.”

“What the fuck did I do?”

“Who said you did anything?”

There was a pause. “Then why is some fucking cunt on the news flashing my picture on TV and saying I’m wanted for murder?”

“I have no idea,” Decker told him. “Why don’t you fill me in on what happened?”

“Why don’t you ask one of your fellow morons what happened? Don’t you idiots talk to each other?”

“All we’re doing is trading ignorance. Only you know the real story.”

“Fucking A right about that! Why were you interested in talking to me in the first place, Decker?”