But there was no way to predict exactly what Jacob might do. There was no question that he appeared to grow more and more angry and agitated and quick to fire his gun as the minutes ticked by.
The girls seemed to have grown accustomed to Jacob firing his gun. When it happened, they no longer screamed or cried.
Jacob left the room often, and she could hear him yelling at his men. She had a feeling Evan’s tactics were definitely getting to them.
She was more than ready to get out of here with her students. She just didn’t know if Jacob and his deranged wife, Gretchen, would allow this to come to a peaceful end.
ANOTHER DAY WAS slowly drawing to an end. Evan was not only frustrated, but also his throat was sore and slightly husky from all the talking he’d done that day.
He lifted the bullhorn to his mouth once again. “Jacob, how about you let me come in there and have a one-on-one conversation with you. I’ll come in unarmed and we can talk face-to-face.”
“Just you?” Jacob yelled back.
Hope filled Evan. “Just me,” he replied. If he could get inside and talk to the man face-to-face, he was sure he could convince Jacob to give up.
“Step out where I can see you,” Jacob said.
This certainly wouldn’t be the first time Evan had entered a building to talk to a hostage taker, but he’d never gone in to speak to one who was so volatile and unpredictable. He stepped out from behind the patrol car and walked forward.
He took only a couple of steps when Jacob told him to halt.
“I’m going to lay down my gun,” Evan said. With one hand up in the air, he used his other hand to unfasten the shoulder holster holding his gun. When he was finished, he laid it on the ground in front of him and then raised both hands above his head. “I’m unarmed and I’m coming in.”
He took two steps forward and was about to take another when Jacob fired. Thankfully, the bullets kicked up the ground to the left and didn’t hit him. Evan cursed, grabbed his gun and then scurried back behind the patrol car.
Jacob laughed. “Sorry, I changed my mind. I got nothing to say to you.”
“Are you okay?” Nick asked Evan once he was back to safety.
“I’m fine.” He released a deep breath. “If he’d wanted to kill me, he could have. I was an easy target.”
“He’s crazy,” Nick replied.
“Crazy like a fox.”
“Too bad Dr. Larsen couldn’t identify what the trigger was for all this,” Nick said.
Dr. Melinda Larsen was a criminal profiler. She was an attractive woman who was a specialist in reading body language for the FBI. Evan had contacted her to get a more thorough profile on Jacob Noble.
Her assessment was that Jacob was a narcissist who thrived on chaos. One of his teachings was that in the coming years food sources would dry up and only the wealthy would be able to feed themselves, thus building an “us versus them” mind-set in his followers.
He had set himself up as a godlike leader who would keep his followers safe and fed as things crumbled in society.
According to the information Hendrick had been able to give Dr. Larsen, she also believed Jacob used a combination of fear and unpredictability to control cult members.
It had been that unpredictability that he’d just shown, only in this case it was to prove to his followers that he was still in control and could make the FBI jump.
He raised the bullhorn. “I’m talking to the men inside the school. You have no way out of here. Jacob has led you into a corner where there is no escape. It’s time to give up. This is a dead end, and if you don’t surrender, then this will not end well.”
He paused a moment and then spoke again. “At least let the hostages go.”
The sun was dipping lower in the horizon, casting everything in shadows. He started to raise the bullhorn once again but paused as a tall man stood in the entrance of the school.
“Everyone hold your fire...hold your fire,” he yelled to his men.
“If you’re coming out, put your hands up over your head,” he said to the man. “Get your hands up and walk out slowly.”
The man hesitated for a long moment and then took one tentative step out of the building and raised his hands toward the sky. “Don’t shoot,” he said. “I’m unarmed. Please don’t shoot me.”
“Just walk forward slowly and keep your hands up over your head,” Evan instructed. The air snapped with tension, and nobody else in the area spoke a word. For the first time since he’d arrived on scene, hope buoyed up in Evan. If this man walked out, then maybe the others would follow.
“Keep walking,” Evan said. “You’re doing fine. Just come straight forward, walk toward the sound of my voice.”
The man took baby steps, and it was obvious he was afraid. He kept his arms over his head, but they shook with nerves. “Please don’t shoot,” he said again. “Please...please don’t shoot me.”
“Nobody is going to shoot you,” Evan assured him. “Identify yourself.”
“My name is Tim... Timothy Summers.”
“Okay, Tim. You’re doing great.”
The man continued to move forward tiny step by tiny step. He got halfway between the school building and the TCD team when gunfire filled the air.
Evan muttered a curse. “Hold your fire. Hold your damn fire,” he yelled even as Tim screamed out in pain and then fell face-first to the ground.
It was then Evan realized it wasn’t his men shooting, but rather Jacob or somebody from inside the school. “Cover me, cover me,” Evan yelled.
As his men began to return fire, Evan grabbed a helmet, and crouching, he raced for the injured man, unmindful of any personal danger. All he saw was a human being who desperately needed help.
As he ran, a steady barrage of gunfire came from his men,
