“Cassidy will get us out of here,” I said.
He nodded, told me he loved me, and we both started crying again.
“I know you think I’m an ass, coming in here, getting caught—” I started to say, but he put his fingers over my lips and shook his head.
“No more of that,” he said. “No matter what happens, we’re not going to waste time on regrets.”
I looked up at him, smiled a little, and said, “Do you think they’ve got cameras in here?”
He laughed. “Sure of it, I’m sorry to say. Microphones, too.”
“Damn,” I said.
“Damn,” he said, and held me tight.
“In spy movies, they use this kind of time to talk about strategy,” I said.
“Thank God we aren’t spies,” he said, and kissed me.
There was a ridiculously polite little knock on the basement door, and Bret came in, seeming embarrassed.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but we need to talk to Detective Cassidy.”
He put on a headset, spoke into it. “Any change?”
He listened, then said, “All right. I’m calling now. Stand by.”
“Where’s Samuel?” Frank asked.
“Keeping an eye on things. There seems to be some SWAT movement.” He turned to me. “Ms. Kelly, are you willing to tell us the name of the man we’re looking for?”
Frank looked at me in surprise. “You know?”
I didn’t answer. Before Frank could say more, Bret said, “We’ll talk about it later.”
He lifted the phone and waited.
“Hello, Detective Cassidy. I’m putting the speakerphone on.” He pressed a button, looked at us. “Would you please say something?”
We each said hello.
“Are you all right?” Cassidy asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “We haven’t been harmed.”
“Are you giving up?” Bret asked him.
“Now, what makes you say a thing like that?” Cassidy asked.
“We’ve seen some SWAT movement,” Bret answered.
“There hasn’t been any SWAT movement,” Cassidy said.
“Detective Cassidy,” Bret said, “please don’t lie.”
“I’m not,” Cassidy said. “Hold on, let me confirm what I just told you.”
There was a moment’s silence. “Bret?”
“Yes?”
“I apologize. You’re right. It was completely unauthorized, and those men have been pulled back. You want to confirm that with Samuel?”
“Just a moment,” Bret said. He spoke into the headset. “Samuel?” He listened, then said, “All right, Detective Cassidy. But now we’re concerned that you may not have your part of the situation under control.”
“Really?”
Bret seemed distracted. “Oh, no, I guess not. Samuel is telling me that those officers have been taken to the commander’s post. Well, now, shall we talk?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s make everything plain, all right?”
“Plain?”
“Unmistakable. I thought I should tell you that we have a generator and plenty of supplies, should you decide to cut off power or water.”
“No one is talking about doing anything like that, Bret.”
“We also have gas masks and protective clothing. Samuel and I do, I mean. If you try a chemical approach to this problem, Frank and Irene will suffer, not us. And we are, of course, the only ones who can arm and disarm the explosives.”
“Bret, nobody wants—”
“No, of course not. But the situation should be made plain. Now, we want one thing. Just one thing. Not money, not notoriety, not innocent lives. We don’t want a plane to fly us to Havana or any other nonsense like that. We simply want justice. That’s all.”
“Justice.”
