58
On the phone with George Wolffe, trying to ascertain the damage to his men, Kurt Hale heard the president shout, “Quiet, damn it.”
Kurt said, “Hang on.”
President Warren looked at Creed and said, “Go ahead.”
“Sir, we just got a chat request to join a room. I did so, and the terrorists are communicating with me.”
Alexander Palmer snapped his fingers, pointing to an NSA man. “Get the location. Find out where they’re transmitting from.”
Creed said, “Don’t bother. They’re using an app called Cryptocat, run through the Tor network. You’ll get nowhere. It’s why they picked it.”
President Warren said, “Bring it up to the big screen.”
Creed did, and Kurt read, So you think you can rescue your hostages? You think we’re that stupid? We told you not to try to find them, and now you have. Now you’ve caused their death.
The room visibly sagged at the words.
Palmer said, “Jesus. We killed them.”
Creed said, “I need to reply. What do I say?”
President Warren said, “We didn’t kill anyone. They did. We had to try.”
Creed said, “Sir?”
“Tell them we didn’t know it was them. Tell them it was a French operation, and we had nothing to do with it.”
He did, and the reply words appeared on the screen.
Is that why you had four FBI men in the assault?
Palmer said, “They were watching. Waiting. They wanted to kill them this way.”
Warren said, “When I find these assholes I’m going to . . .” His voice trailed off. He waited a beat, then said, “Tell them okay. Cut the crap. What do they want?”
Creed typed the words, and everyone held their breath waiting on the reply. When it came, it was almost mundane. Like a bank robber.
We already told you what we want. You have the Bitcoin address. Send the money.
Warren looked at the head of the FBI and said, “How much do we have?”
“About half. We haven’t been able to get it all.”
Palmer said, “You can’t send it. There’s no proof that they won’t just give us another demand.”
Warren considered, then said, “It’s just money. A drop in the bucket for us. If it buys us a day, it buys us a day. Tell them we can send half.”
They waited on the response. When it came, it was chilling.
We thought you would stall like that. Here’s a little secret. Your hostages weren’t in that room today. They are still alive, but you just killed them. Expect another Snapchat soon.
The room remained quiet for a split second, then erupted in pandemonium, nobody knowing which hostages were in the discussion. President Warren slapped his hand onto the table and said, “Shut the hell up. Creed, tell them the money’s coming. Tell them we’re giving them all we have.”
Palmer said, “Sir—” but President Warren ignored him. He looked to the director of the FBI and said, “Send it. Right now.”
The director scurried out of the room, and Creed typed the message. They watched the blinking icon, waiting on a response. Nothing happened.
Kurt whispered into his phone, “Okay, things here are going to shit. Give me some good news.”
George said, “Finally got Brett on the line. He’s alive and unhurt.”
“And Knuckles?”
“He’s okay. Took some shrapnel, but he’s going to be okay. Basically got his ass punctured, but his body armor stopped any lethal hits. He was on his way out the door when it triggered. Almost all of it missed him. Two feet the other way, and he would have been eviscerated, but he’s got nothing but a few stitches at this point.”
Kurt sagged into his seat, saying, “That’s the best damn thing I’ve heard in years. Can I talk to them?”
“Not right now. They’re dealing with acting like FBI agents. The two real ones were torched.”
Kurt closed his eyes.
George said, “What’s going on there?”
“We’re getting toyed with.”
“What about Pike? What’s he got?”
“Nothing. He’s out chasing shadows.” Kurt heard President Warren ask, “Are they still online?” and he said, “I have to go. Keep me abreast of the situation.”
They watched the icon blink on the big screen, then saw, Is Chairman Clute there? Ask him which one he wants to die first. His choice.
Chairman Clute’s face went white. He looked at the president and said, “I can’t do that. Please, tell them to stop.”
President Warren said, “God damn it, tell them we sent the money. Tell them not to do this.”
Creed did, and the reply was, You arrogant infidels need to learn a lesson. You paid half, so I kill half. Fair trade.
The screen flickered, and a Snapchat appeared, showing two hooded hostages. Nobody said a word. President Warren looked at Chairman Clute, then said, “Pull it off the screen.”
Creed did so, and Warren said, “Palmer, take a look.”
His face visibly sweating, Palmer went to Creed and leaned over his shoulder. Kurt felt his phone vibrate. He looked at the screen and saw it was Pike. He thought about shunting it to voice mail, but answered. Pike deserved to know Knuckles was alive.
He said, “Hey, I’m in a little bit of a situation here. I can’t talk, but Knuckles and Brett are fine.”
He heard nothing for a second, then Pike said, “Seriously? They’re okay?”
Creed hit the play button, and Kurt watched Palmer’s face, waiting to see it flinch. He said, “Yes, now I have to go.”
Pike said, “Sir, I need the support package right now. I’ve got two dead terrorists and two hostages, alive. I need help to get out of the building clean.”
“Pike, I can’t talk right now. I’m watching these fucks kill a hostage on video.” Then the words sank in. “You’ve got what?”
“I have the Clute twins, damn it. I need support.”
Palmer turned from the screen and said, “It’s the original video. The proof of life.”
Chairman Clute sagged in his seat, and Creed brought the chat back to the large monitor. Words appeared on the screen: The next Snapchat is decided by you. Which one dies? I don’t hear anything in one minute, and I’ll choose.
Kurt said, “I’m watching a live chat with the terrorists. They’re saying they’re going to kill one of the twins in the next few seconds. Tell me you’re not delusional.”
“Jesus, sir.” The phone fumbled, and he heard, “This is Kaelyn Clute. I’m alive. Who is this?”
Kurt about fell out of his chair. He stood up and shouted, “I need this on speaker, right now.”
Palmer glared at him, then looked to the president. “I don’t know what to say to get them to stop. We can’t pick one.”
Kurt raised his voice. “Pike’s on the line. He’s got the Clute twins.”
The room went quiet. Chairman Clute leaned forward, his face radiating hope, like a father searching for a child in the aftermath of a tornado. Knowing the worst was coming, but not wanting to believe. He said, “Who’s Pike?”
President Warren said, “Put him on.”
The phone was redirected, and President Warren said, “Pike? This is President Warren. You there?”
“Yeah, I’m here, sir. Could I get some fucking help for a change?”
Kurt cringed at the language, and President Warren said, “We’re about to get a video of one of the Clute twins getting executed.”
Pike said, “Well, unless I’m the one pulling the trigger, that’s going to be pretty damn hard to do.”
Chairman Clute said, “Who are you? What do you have?”
The next words from the speaker were “Daddy? We’re alive. We’re both alive. But I think this man could use some serious help to keep us that way.”
Kurt saw the tears begin to flow from Chairman Clute’s eyes. He looked at the president and said, “We through fucking around with Pike?”