Chapter 42
Everything happened at once, and Noelle didn’t know where to look. Loud reports abruptly crackled through the command center’s speakers.
“Sniper-two! A man crawled out a window on the first level. He is armed and running toward seven o’clock. The last outside guard is going with him.”
“Copy. Blue-six has eyes on them. We’ve got them.”
“Sniper-two! A second man came out the same window. He’s firing back at the cabin. Now running toward nine o’clock.”
“Copy. This is Blue-one. I’ve got him.”
“Sniper-one! Three men just came out the front door. All are armed.”
“Rest of blue team. Move in,” ordered Preston.
Several camera views on the monitors suddenly jerked and bounced, indicating several members rushing forward. “Put down your weapons! Put down your weapons! Hands where I can see them! On the ground! Now! Move! Move! On the ground!”
The three men appeared on the monitor views. They’d already dropped their guns and were lowering themselves to the ground.
“Total of six in custody.”
“Counting Baylor, that’s seven,” said Noelle. “Six more to go.”
“And all the hostages,” said Max.
“Things definitely went to hell inside,” said the negotiator. “I hope no one’s hurt. One of them fired back at the cabin.” He looked at Preston. “I don’t know if we can get him back on the radio.”
“Try.”
Emma held perfectly still, trying to avoid pulling attention to herself.
“Get those kids and women out of here!” Tommy yelled at Mark. “They’re gonna come in shooting, and their deaths will be on your hands!”
“This is how it’s supposed to happen!” shouted Mark, advancing on Tommy. “We need to take advantage of the chaos! If people die, they die!”
“Fuck you and your chaos goals. You’re just trying to get people killed.” Tommy pointed at the six hostages still sitting on the floor. “You just want payback for your time in prison! This isn’t how to do it!”
The radio from the FBI started to buzz.
Mark ignored it and swung his pistol around at the four of his men who were left. “Do you want to leave? Do you want to run away too?”
All four men shook their heads. But Emma knew by the fear in their eyes that they lied.
“Let the children go!” shouted Tommy. “No one is going to respect you for getting kids killed!”
“What about Waco?” Mark yelled back. “The FBI never recovered from that scandal, and part of the reason was they were responsible for getting those kids killed! It will never be forgotten!” Mark’s eyes glowed, making Emma take a step closer to the wall.
He wants to be remembered.
He doesn’t care who dies.
“What happened to you, old man?” Mark got in Tommy’s face, his pistol still in his hand. “You used to be a leader! Now you hide and kiss up to the FBI! You’re a disgrace to the movement.”
The radio kept buzzing.
“Movement?” Tommy practically spit the word.
“There’s no movement! All I see is a bunch of guys feeling sorry for themselves, so y’all get together for a circle jerk!
” His gaze swept Mark’s four remaining men.
“I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t grabbed Emma and threatened to cut her head off if I didn’t come! ”
Suddenly dizzy, Emma pressed into the wall and slid to the floor.
Mark will kill me without a second thought.
Every gaze in the room was on her. Sympathy from the hostages. Horror and anger from Mark’s men. She tried to cover her eyes with her bound wrists, the weight of the people’s stares crushing her.
“Mark.” The kidnapper closest to Emma stepped forward, placing himself between Emma and the man. “This isn’t—”
“Shut your fucking face!” Mark roared. “I’m in charge here! I say what happens! You!” He waved a gun at one of his other men. “Get the rest of those hostages out here! It’s time we all had a come-to-Jesus moment!”
What’s he going to do to us?
Emma cowered on her knees, curled up in the smallest ball possible, her cheek pressed to the floor.
Will he shoot all of us?
The man Mark had ordered paused and then marched across the room. He flung open the door to the hostage room and froze. He whirled around, his face white. “They’re gone!”
Emma’s eyes squeezed shut at Mark’s roar.
“Sniper-one. We’ve got movement! People are climbing out a window on the other side of the cabin. It’s the hostages! Kids are being handed out the window.”
Max scanned the monitors. None of the SWAT helmet cameras were aimed at that window.
“How many, Sniper-one?” asked Preston.
“Two women, a baby, two children, another woman—maybe a teen—more kids being handed out.”
“Teen?” Noelle whispered to Max.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Sniper-one. We need backup to get these people to safety.”
“Copy, Sniper-one.” Preston looked at Max and Noelle. “I’ll direct the rest of the county deputies to get over there. Go!”
Max grabbed their helmets, shoving one on his head and handing the other to Noelle as they dashed out the door.
They still wore their vests and pistols.
Max had his AR-15 and Noelle grabbed a lone shield left outside the command center.
They sprinted around the RV and met up with three deputies responding to Preston’s callout.
Max was puffing by the time they’d covered two hundred yards in a full-out sprint.
Over the radio he heard that male hostages were trying to come out the window but were struggling because their hands were tied behind them.
One member of the entry team got over there, cut their bindings, and hauled them out.
Max spotted the BearCat up ahead. The six men from the militia who’d abandoned the cabin were on their stomachs in the snow, two SWAT members watching over them. “Go!” Max told the two men, breathing heavily. “We’ll watch the guys in custody.” The two SWAT members ran back to join their team.
Max pointed at two of the deputies who’d come with him. “You two watch these six. Keep them on the ground. Noelle and you with me,” he told her and the remaining deputy. They jogged around the perimeter and spotted the group of hostages being led by one SWAT team member.
The hostages were all barefoot.
Max took over, guiding the hostages away at a jog, and the SWAT team member darted back to his position.
No Emma or Garrison.
Noelle picked up and ran with a toddler who stared at her helmet. His feet were like ice. “Where’s the teenager?” she asked the adults. “Blonde hair?”
“Don’t know,” said one of the men, running beside her. “Still inside somewhere. My wife’s still in there!”
“Mine too!” said the other man. “All our spouses are.”
Max had swept up one of the twins. “You Jett or Chase?” he asked the barefoot boy as he ran with him in his arms. The boy said nothing.
“Jett,” said Tamara, who had her other boy.
“How’d you get out?” asked Noelle.
“Our hands were zip-tied in front, and I showed the others how to break them,” said a woman, panting as they ran.
“We’d discussed going out the window but knew there was a guard out there.
Once we heard all the yelling inside, we decided to break them and go.
But the men’s wouldn’t break since they were tied in back. ”
“I was willing to fall on my face out the window to get out of there,” said one of the men. “The leader guy inside there is nuts.”
Max led the group beyond the SWAT perimeter to the BearCat, and Jett started to shake with cold.
Or shock.
“Everyone in the BearCat. We’ll get the heat going.
” He handed Jett off to one of the male hostages, who climbed into the back of the SWAT vehicle.
Noelle yanked open the driver’s door and turned on the engine.
A few seconds later, the fans started blowing heat in the back and all the hostages were inside.
“This is Agent Rhodes,” Max said into the radio. “Hostages are in the BearCat. Still six adult hostages and one teen hostage inside the cabin.”
“Copy, Agent Rhodes,” said Preston. “Our attempts to reestablish contact inside aren’t being answered. Send the deputies back with the six militia. I want to talk to them.”
The deputies heard and started gathering up the men who were in the snow.
“Send back any coats or boots you can find,” Max told the deputies.
The hostages had little to wear. Noelle shucked off her vest and removed her coat, then wrapped up two of the children in it. Max did the same.
“Can you tell me what’s happening inside?” Max asked the group as he strapped his vest back on.
“We were in that room the whole time,” said Tamara, snuggling both her boys in Max’s coat. “This morning that group broke into the house, shooting up the ceiling and yelling and splitting us away from the men. Then later they took two of the women and sent in their husbands.”
“My wife’s the county DA,” said one of the men. “From what I gathered while in the main room, the leader’s furious with the judicial branch. The governor and the FBI too. One of the guys is the head of the local FBI office. Jeff Garrison.”
“That’s my boss,” said Max. “Anything helpful you noticed that I can pass on to the entry team?”
“They’re going in?” asked the other man, fear in his eyes.
His wife’s still there.
“Not yet,” said Max. “But it may come to that.”
“With their numbers down, I doubt the entrances are being guarded as thoroughly from the inside,” said the DA’s husband.
“There’s an outer door into the daylight basement, which has stairs inside up to the main level.
That’s worth investigating.” He leaned his head against the wall of the BearCat, his eyes closed.
“Please get them out safely.” The other hostages murmured in agreement.
“That’s their goal,” said Max, meeting Noelle’s worried gaze as he passed on the information to Preston.
We can only hope for the best.
Emma’s gaze followed the angry leader inside the cabin.
He’s going to kill us all.
Mark turned his fury on the man who’d reported the hostages were gone. Mark grabbed him by the shirt and shoved his gun into his jaw.
The radio buzzed again, pulling Mark’s attention. He shoved the man toward the radio on the island. “Get that thing out of here!” The man’s stomach slammed into the edge of the island, forcing air out of his lungs, and he tipped over toward Tommy, who steadied him, keeping him on his feet.
“I said get it out!” Mark yelled at him.
The man sucked in a loud, rattling breath, snatched up the radio, and ran down the hall toward the front door, flinging it open. He hurled the radio out the door and then looked back. Emma met his scared gaze.
She caught her breath as he tore out the door, sprinting down the steps, his arms in the air, screaming, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!”
Three guards left. Plus Mark and Uncle Tommy.
The front door hung open, letting in a rush of cold air. Emma cringed, expecting to hear gunfire. But she only heard far-off shouts.
Mark realized what had happened, and his face went red. “That fucking pussy chickenshit asshole!” He paced back and forth, muttering to himself, shooting angry looks at her and the hostages. Tommy still sat at the kitchen island, his hands clenched on its edge.
“Be ready,” he mouthed silently at her.
Emma didn’t know what to be ready for, but she nodded.
“Each of you!” Mark gestured at his three remaining men. “Grab two hostages each! Get them on their feet.”
The men looked at each other, then each grabbed two hostages.
“Front door, deck door, downstairs door,” Mark said, as he pointed to each man and his hostages.
“On my order, follow them out your door. Make them run. Shoot them in the back if they don’t!
Then run your ass off and hide in the woods.
They can’t watch all of us at once.” Mark put on his heavy coat and slung his rifle over his shoulder as he spoke.
He strode to Emma and hooked a hand under her armpit, hauling her to her feet and pushing her toward the door to the deck.
I’m his hostage.
“Now! Everyone go!”
The man and two hostages in front of Emma ran out the door to the deck. Mark pushed her toward the same door.
Emma looked back to Tommy and slammed on her brakes. Tommy stood at the island with a gun pointed at Mark.
That’s the gun from the man who grabbed the radio.
Mark bumped into her and then turned to see what she was looking at. “Hammaker! Don’t you fucking dare!” He raised his gun toward Tommy.
Emma dropped to the ground as two gunshots sounded. Then Mark pulled her to her feet again. “Go!” He shoved her out the door, and she struggled against him to look back. Tommy was on the ground, not moving.
“Nooo!” she screamed.