Born to Run

“Give me ten more minutes, Demetri. Just say yes.”

Green in ten.

The television screen flickered in the command center, and Andie typed a quick message to SWAT: HOLD!

“What’s happening?” said Demetri.

Green in five-

The television screen brightened, and the Action News broadcast from the news set was back on the air.

Abort breach, Andie typed to SWAT.

“Are we back?” said Demetri.

Roger, was the response from SWAT.

“Yes,” Andie told him, breathing out. “Thank God.”

“Nice work,” said Demetri. “Two minutes to spare.”

More like two seconds, thought Andie. “We aim to please,” she said.

“Then get me President Keyes on the line.”

“I can’t promise you that will happen,” said Andie.

“You don’t have to,” said Demetri. “I have every confidence that he heard what I said. And this time, he knows I mean it.”

The line clicked in her earpiece.

Chapter 54

Jack could see himself on the television screen. The Action News camera hadn’t moved since the transmission outage, and it was still aimed at him and Shannon. Same image, with one major difference: Jack looked scared to death.

“You’re a lucky boy,” said Demetri as he pulled the gun away from Jack’s scalp.

Jack breathed out. He’d heard of mock executions, terrorists putting a gun to the back of a prisoner’s head and pulling the trigger with the chamber empty. Jack hadn’t been pushed to that point, but he’d been close enough to understand how it made people crack.

Demetri turned his back to the hostages and stepped toward the camera. Jack’s gaze followed him, and then he glanced over to the TV screen. The cameraman was still on the floor beside Jack, but he wasn’t in the television shot. Lucky for Demetri. If Andie saw that bloody face on television, SWAT would be busting down the door.

“I want to welcome our television viewers back to the show,” said Demetri, “but I don’t think we’ll be having these technical difficulties again. The bad news is that our most compelling episode so far happened while we were off the air. But there’s some good news. We will be offering the entire block of missing footage as a bonus feature on the DVD edition of Action News Standoff, the first and only season, to be released this spring.”

“He’s snapped,” Shannon whispered. “You have got to get us out of here.”

Jack clenched the nail file and picked furiously at the knot behind his back. It was hard to tell, but he felt as though he might be making progress. He worked the file around to another angle, then accidentally jabbed himself in the wrist, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

Demetri turned his back to the camera and faced the hostages.

“What was that face for, Swyteck?”

Jack felt hot blood trickling down from his puncture wound to his fingertips. It hurt like hell.

“I didn’t make a face.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw you on the television screen, right behind me. You better not be trying to throw signals at someone.”

Jack was about to deny it, then reconsidered. He didn’t know what the punishment would be for throwing signals, but it had to be a lesser offense than trying to pick himself free with a nail file.

“Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Make sure of it,” said Demetri.

The television screen flickered, and Jack thought for a moment that they might be going off the air again. Action News was simply resuming its split screen broadcast. This time, however, it was a different reporter with a live update from just outside the traffic-control perimeter.

“This is Haley Vacaro, Action News. I’m standing about a mile from the Action News studio, which is now as close as police will allow traffic to approach on Frontage Road. Police have actually set up a second perimeter of traffic control here to prevent the crowd around the studio from swelling to an unmanageable level. With me is a close friend of Jack Swyteck, one of the three hostages. Sir, if you could step right over here, please, and give us your name one more time.”

“Theo Knight.”

Jack’s jaw dropped, but that was definitely the one and only Theo Knight on television, wearing a T-shirt that read BRINGBACKPORN.COM.

“Mr. Knight, how is it that you know Jack Swyteck?”

“Jack’s a dude, man. He was my lawyer when I was on death row, and we been hangin’ ever since. No pun intended.”

The reporter stepped away. “Well, obviously this is someone’s idea of a joke, and I apologize to our viewers for-”

“It’s true,” said Theo as he stepped back into the picture. “Look at this,” he said, holding up a key.

“What is that?”

“A key to a 1968 Mustang GT-390 Fastback. That’s the green car that crashed through the front door to your studio. I was with Jack when he bought it, and I kept the extra key.”

You kept my damn key? thought Jack. He’d been looking for the spare.

The reporter put a finger to her earpiece to receive a message. Whatever her producer was telling her, it seemed to satisfy her.

“All right, Mr. Knight. What can you tell us about this hostage standoff? Any idea what it might be all about?”

“I really couldn’t tell you, but I have someone with me who definitely knows the story. Her name is Sofia, and she used to be married to that dude with the gun inside the studio.”

The reporter’s eyes lit up, as she’d just hit the jackpot.

Demetri screamed at the top of his lungs, “Nooooo!”

Jack understood the Greek’s reaction immediately, but he also realized that Theo had no idea how much danger he was putting Sofia in.

Demetri moved faster than Jack had ever seen him move as he cut across the set, grabbed the phone, and punched star-69 to get the FBI command center. He shouted his demand in a voice that was more than loud enough for Jack to hear.

“Henning, get Sofia protection, or all bets are off! Do you hear what I’m saying? The same thugs that want me dead also want her dead. You get her some protection right now!”

Agent Frank Madera was in a conference room inside the Action News complex. The business-office wing was a new two-story building that ran perpendicular to the studio, and at Madera’s suggestion, Sergeant Figueroa had moved the Miami-Dade SWAT unit there from the coffee shop. It would serve as their staging platform into the newsroom-partly for logistical reasons, but mostly because it was on the opposite side of the building from the FBI SWAT staging area.

The tactical team was suited up in black gear and ready to deploy, eight contemplative men leaning against the wall in silence. A ceiling-mounted television in the corner was tuned to Action News, keeping them apprised in real time. Madera stood at the head of the conference table, an architect’s blueprint of the newsroom spread out before him. At his side was Officer Sam Reed, MDPD’s top-rated sniper.

“You’ll move in through the main air-conditioning duct,” said Madera, pointing to the blueprint. “There’s a