The staircase ended at another hall, this one lined with doors. She led him to the one at the end, knocked, then opened it and showed him into a typical branch bank office, furnished out of mail-order catalogs. Behind a mahogany veneer desk sat a balding man in his early fifties, with shining skin and a line of sweat on his upper lip. He stood.
“Hello, Dr. Jennings. That’ll be all, Cindy.”
The door closed behind Will, and the man held out a plump hand. “I’m Jack Moore, vice president.”
Will shook the hand and looked around the office again. There was a small door on the wall to his right, partially open.
“What’s that?”
“My private rest room,” Moore said.
“Oh.”
“How can I help you, Doctor? Your wire came in a few minutes ago. What would you like to do with the money?”
“I want to withdraw it in cash. I also need to withdraw some personal funds. I have a hundred and fifty thousand in CDs deposited with this bank in Jackson.”
Moore wiped his upper lip. “You want to walk out of here with three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in a suitcase?”
“That’s right.” Cheryl had retrieved a cheap briefcase from her suite as they left the Beau Rivage.
“I see. Well…” Moore glanced at his rest room door. “If that’s what you want, I guess…”
The rest room door opened, and a tall man with sandy hair and blue eyes stepped out.
Will backpedaled to the door. “What the hell is this?”
“Dr. Jennings,” said the stranger. “I’m Special Agent Bill Chalmers. I’m fully aware of your situation, and I’m here to help you.”
Will was so stunned that he simply stood where he was. “But-How did you get here? How did you know where to go? Harley Ferris didn’t know where I was going.”
Chalmers nodded. “There’s a sofa behind you, Doctor. Please sit down. We don’t have much time, and we have a lot to do.”
“I only have one thing to do. Get my money and get out of here.”
“Please sit down, Doctor. I think you’ll like what I have to say.”
Will backed up until his calves hit something padded. He sat.
“Do you know a cardiovascular surgeon named James McDill?”
“McDill? Sure. He’s a member out at Annandale. He doesn’t play much golf. Collects cars, I think.” Even as he spoke the word “collects,” something ticked in Will’s brain.
“Exactly one year ago,” said Chalmers, “James McDill’s son, Peter, was kidnapped in exactly the same way your daughter was yesterday.”
Will blinked in disbelief.
“He didn’t report the crime until last night, and nobody knows why better than you. But this week he was overcome with anxiety that it might happen again. He called our Jackson field office around eleven last night. I was on duty, and we’ve been working ever since to piece together what’s going on.”
“Have you talked to Harley Ferris? Do you know where my little girl is?”
“Mr. Ferris is working with us now. We’ve augmented CellStar’s tracing crew with a SWAT team, and we just had a very lucky break. Get a grip on yourself, Doctor. The man holding Abby just took a call on his cell phone, and he forgot to switch it off. The SWAT team estimates they’re two minutes from your daughter’s position.”
Waves of shock and hope buffeted Will. Even after Ferris’s assurances, Chalmers’s words seemed incomprehensible. “What do they plan to do when they get there?”
Chalmers walked up to the couch and squatted, so that his eyes were level with Will’s. “We think we should go in and get her.”
“You mean, guns blazing?”
“Not quite, no. We have special entry devices. Heat sensors and video to accurately place human bodies in the structure. They’ll use special stun grenades to incapacitate the tango, then-”
“Tango?” Will interrupted.
“Sorry, that’s radio slang for terrorists. These guys train to rescue hostages from terrorists.”
“Can’t you try to talk him out?”
Chalmers smiled patiently. “We could do that. But it’s our understanding that the man holding Abby is mentally handicapped. The leader is still loose. He could call this Huey at any time and order him to kill your daughter.”
Will felt as though he and Abby were standing in the path of a truck and couldn’t move. “Can’t Ferris shut off Huey’s phone?”
“Yes, but that might panic him. Or he might be under orders to kill your daughter if his communications are cut off. Right now-while Huey and Abby are isolated from the leader-we have a golden opportunity to go in. Before the situation deteriorates any further.”
After a night spent in ignorance, Will was having difficulty processing the sudden influx of information. “I still don’t understand how you got here. How you knew it would be this bank.”
“We didn’t. We put an agent in every bank of any size in Gulfport and Biloxi. I requested this one because it was the largest. I flew down early this morning. The minute your wire came in, I contacted my Special Agent-in- Charge in Jackson. His name’s Frank Zwick. And he wants to talk to you.”
“Is he in contact with the SWAT team?”
“Yes.”
“Please call him. And there’s a woman outside in my rental car. One of the kidnappers.”
Chalmers nodded. “Cheryl Lynn Tilly. We’ll leave her alone until the team hits the cabin. If she gets suspicious and comes inside, you can tell her there’s some delay with paperwork. We have more agents converging on the bank right now, but they’ll be discreet coming in.”
“I can’t believe all this.”
The FBI agent smiled. “In a few minutes, your daughter will be in FBI custody, Doctor.”
Will was afraid to let himself believe it.
“You did well getting Harley Ferris involved. I only wish you would have called us earlier. Trusted us.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I understand.” Chalmers got up and went to Moore’s desk. The bank’s vice president looked as though he didn’t quite believe what was happening before his eyes. “Would you excuse us, Mr. Moore?”
“Of course.” The banker made a hasty exit.
Chalmers dialed a number on Moore’s phone.
“The leader’s name is Hickey,” Will said. “Joe Hickey. He has my wife with him, and he’s one clever son of a bitch. Do you know where they are now?”
“Driving toward Jackson International Airport.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. They’re not going anywhere. We’re watching them from a helicopter, and we’ve got men in the airport. Hang on.” Chalmers spoke into the phone. “Chalmers here. I’ve got Dr. Jennings with me…He’s on board with us…Yes, sir. Any word on the little girl?” Chalmers gave Will a thumbs-up.
“I want to talk to him,” Will said, standing.
“I’ll tell him,” Chalmers said, and hung up. “The SAC has a lot on his plate right now, Doctor.”
“What’s happening?”
“SWAT found the cabin.”
“The green pickup truck?”
“It’s parked under the trees.”
Will closed his eyes and began to pray.
Eight FBI agents in camouflage ninja fatigues and black headgear crept silently through the trees toward the cabin, their Heckler and Koch submachine guns tight against their bodies. A ninth agent was already under the structure, scanning the small floor plan with a supersensitive microphone and headphones. Their leader was Special Agent Martin Cody, and Cody was in radio contact with the agent under the house.
