The OuterQuaker Affair - Part 4

And now the thrilling (maybe) and gripping (possibly) conclusion to The OuterQuaker Affair ...

11.

            On the fourth floor Robert Cody and his companion had been enjoying a quiet dinner when they received the phone call from Franklin warning them to stay away from the door.  Since then they had been anxiously sitting by the window looking for a way to escape.  They had contemplated jumping but only concrete would break their fall.  They had been relieved when the cops pulled into the parking lot. 

“It is going to be okay now the cops will get us out.” Robert had said to comfort his dinner guest.  He was trying to comfort himself as much as anyone. 

            Franklin checked on his adversaries in the parking lot, they were still milling around waiting for him to make a move and make a mistake.  “Here’s your move,” he yelled as he pressed hard on the detonator key.  A muffled explosion erupted from beneath him.  Water from the bay should be filling the basement and heading towards the lobby, it would fill the tower.  In the panic it would create he would make his escape. 

            In his apartment Robert Cody heard the explosion.  His houseguest let out an alarming cry “Oh my god Robbie, they’re gonna flood the tower.  That explosion leveled the basement walls.  Were all going to die.  You have to get out.”  With that he kissed Robert on the cheek and ran for the door. 

“Get down” he screamed at Robert.

“NO” Robert screamed back but it was too late, the explosive device detonated killing Roberts partner instantly.  Robert was stunned but his anguish soon turned to survival.  He ran to the door and then out into the hallway.  He hit the elevator call button but nothing happened.  The stairs were his only option.  He cautiously opened door, he peered in.  There were no sounds from the stairway so he entered.  By the time Robert reached the lobby the water was flowing over his shoes.  He ran for the front door but it was locked he turned to look for a chair to throw through the window.  As he did so he stepped on a wire under the water.  The water lessened the blast but was still forceful enough to blow him through the plate glass doors.  He landed on the concrete in a heap.  As he looked up a handgun was pointed at him.  “Police, identify yourself.” was the cry from the armed man.  Robert was able to get out his name and apartment number and was soon helped by a paramedic.  Thank god he thought himself as he medic helped him away from the tower.

12.

            The water was soon flooding the whole building.  Franklin was headed to the roof.  Behind him screams of panic could be heard.  The water was entering apartments, apartments that the residents were trapped in.  Explosions rocked the building as tenants tested their front doors.  Franklin had not lied to them, as they turned the handle the doors exploded leaving death and debris.  Not sure how many more explosions the building could take Franklin quickened his stride towards the roof.  The air was fresh as he opened the roof door.  He sprinted to the fire escape at the front of the building.  Before reaching for the ladder he pulled a knife from his pocket and made two cuts, one on his forehead and one on his hand.  The blood began to flow as he proceeded to make his descent from the OuterQuaker tower. 

            The police were forced to retreat further behind their yellow tape as the explosions rocked the area.  The fire brigade was the first to act.  Seeing the terrified residents at their windows they set up the fire trucks close to the building.  They extracted the fire ladder and were able to rescue the people who lived at the front of the complex.

“Where are the terrorists? Surely they are not going to stay in the building as it explodes around them.” Wally Jarvis enquired.  His train of thought was interrupted by a scream from the tower.

“Help me” the voice screamed. “I managed to get out from the roof.”

The man in front of them was covered in blood from his daring escape.  “Get a medic over here.” one FBI agent yelled.

“Where are you hurt?” the paramedic asked the bloody figure.

“I fell and hit my head.” Franklin lied.

“Can you walk okay?” Franklin was asked, he nodded and they headed over to the ambulance.  More tower people were being brought down from the now decrepit looking building.  As Franklin approached the ambulance the medic left him for a moment to tend to another injured person.  Franklin took his chance and walked passed the medical truck and out towards the media and crowd.

“That’s him.  Stop him.” yelled Robert Cody from a neighboring ambulance.  “I saw him in the building.  He’s the one.”  Wally Jarvis heard Roberts cries and ran over to the scene.  “Hey you stop.” he yelled at Franklin.

Franklin didn’t miss a step as he turned and tore his gun from his pocket he fired twice at Jarvis then ran across the parking lot.  Jarvis hit the ground as both shots missed.  He pulled out his service revolver.  Raising his hand he leveled and fired one shot.  The shot hit Franklin in the back, his body arched forward and his legs gave way.  He crashed into the concrete as his momentum carried him a few feet forward.  Jarvis picked himself up and ran over to the slumped body.  Franklin was dead.  The bullet had punctured his lung and torn through his heart. 

“Crime doesn’t pay and greed is the worst sin.”  Wally Jarvis said to Dave in the worst infomercial voice he could muster as he rejoined the police and FBI team.  “Let’s hope paperwork pays well.” Dave responded “because there's going to be a shitload of it to explain this!”        

I hope you liked this short story in all of its corny glory :)  If you did, feel free to comment or pop over to http://store.payloadz.com/details/1941573 and pick up my novella for less than the price of a candy bar!

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The OuterQuaker Affair - Part 3

Part 3 of 4 of my awesomely bad hostage drama written while in college!

6.

            When Samuel Brass came round he was back in his apartment.  His attacker had tied him to a chair and put a large piece of duct tape over his mouth.  Samuel's head was throbbing and his eyes were fuzzy.  “Welcome back to the world of the living” a voice from behind him said.  Samuel Brass was the principal director for the Unibond Film Company based in Los Angeles.  He had been responsible for recent Hollywood blockbusters.  Brass had moved the 200 miles to San Francisco to escape some of the lights of LA.  He did a lot of his work out of his penthouse suite but still had to return to Southern California’s movie land numerous times a month. 

The chair Samuel was tied was sharply turned to face his foe, slumped on the sofa were two people dressed in black outfits.  The closest man in black waved his gun in Samuel’s direction.  “You will be our guest for a while.  We are going to notify your employers at Unibond of your predicament.  They will pay or you will die.  I am sure they will be willing to part with some cash to save their most prominent director.”  Samuel's heart sank, his movie The Ransom Note had just broken the one hundred million dollar sales barrier and now here he was, a hostage in his own home.  It felt like a scene from his movie.  “Just sit back and relax and let us take care of everything.” the second assailant in black remarked.  The two men in black walked out of the living room and towards his study.  They spoke in hushed voices as they left.

7.

            The tower looked quiet and unassuming as the SFPD pulled into the parking lot.  The uniform officers soon had a fifty-foot perimeter around the front entrance.  Detective Jarvis received a call on his cell phone that further added to his misery.  Josh Fulwell owner of the Unibond Film Company had received a phone call from kidnappers claiming they had Hollywood hotshot Sam Brass held hostage in his San Francisco penthouse.  They had demanded a ten million-dollar ransom.  Jarvis turned to Dave  “This is the real deal.  A movie company just got a ransom demand from someone in this building.”

“Jesus Christ” Dave let out in frustration “Where are the FBI?”

As if magically called by Dave three dark saloons pulled into the complex.  The flashing dashboard lights looked like something from 1980’s Miami.  Two suited agents approached Detective Jarvis.  “Looks like you have done a good job so far, we will take over the lead now.” the smaller of the two men proclaimed.  Jarvis was not a man with a huge ego and graciously stood aside.  “Just remember my men are good and if we can assist you we will.”  Jarvis responded.

“Will do.” the FBI agent replied.

The two agents spoke for a short while and then returned to Jarvis.  “Okay here’s the plan.  Use the uniforms to keep the crowd and media back.  We know the principal hostage is on the top floor and I imagine the rest of the residents are someway controlled.  The middle floors are office space and should be unoccupied.  I suggest we try and infiltrate those office floors with a small tactical unit.  A full assault would be too risky; they could start shooting hostages before we got anywhere near them.”  

The tactical unit would arrive in twenty minutes so all Jarvis and his FBI comrades could do was wait.

            The two intruders had been busy since the law enforcement agencies had arrived.  They had seen them pull up from Samuel Brass’ front window.  They had foreseen this scenario and were expecting the Feds to try to enter the building.  That was going to prove tough for them however.  The front doors to the tower and the lobby were laden with trip wires and other home protection devices aimed to keep undesirables out. 

 8.

                The OuterQuaker tower complex was a bottleneck complex, which had only one entrance.  Three sides of the building were surrounded by water.  This would make it difficult for the authorities to rescue the hostages but it would also be difficult for the criminals to escape.  The larger of the men in black grabbed Sam Brass and dragged him into the bedroom.  After throwing him on the bed he slammed the door behind him.  Sam heard voices form he main room but could not understand them.  After a few minutes he heard the front door slam.  The two masked men split up and headed in different directions.  One headed to the stairs the other unlocked the elevator and proceeded to the ground floor.  The FBI tactical team had arrived and after being briefed was about to approach the tower.  The team consisted of five men decked out in urban combat outfits holding automatic weapons.  They shuffled forward and soon reached the sliding doors that separated the OuterQuaker tower from the outside world.  What happened next was swift, ruthless and brutal.

9

            Special agent Reyes was the first to try the door.  Using a knife he pried the door open enough to clear the locking mechanism.  The five men cautiously and in tactical formation entered the lobby.  No sooner had they done so the sliding doors closed behind them, detonating a tear gas grenade behind them.  The men were forced to move further into the lobby as they did so Reyes tripped on a wire and set off another teargas blast to their right.  Unwittingly as they slowly moved away from the gas they moved straight into a crossfire trap.  The two men in black had witnessed the arrival of the FBI agents from the stairway door and the elevator.  The elevator door opened an inch further and a Luger assault rifle was pushed through the gap.  The moment the agents entered the trap gunfire erupted from two locations and cut the FBI men to pieces. 

            Jarvis was dismayed as he saw the event unwrap through the glass windows.  Smoke had filled the lobby and then he had seen the agents fall. 

“What in god’s name just happened to you team?” Jarvis asked a nearby FBI agent.  In a dismayed voice the agent replied

“Looks like we are going to have to go back to the drawing board.  They seem to be one step ahead of us.”

The building no longer looked quiet or unassuming as the smell of death took over the area.

  

10.      

From the penthouse suite a phone call was made to the Unibond Film Company.

“Is the money ready?”

“Not exactly, we can’t liquidate that sort of money this quickly.”  Josh Fulwell claimed.

“Don’t give me those police stalling lines.  I want five million dollars transferred to the following Swiss bank account within ten minutes or I start throwing people from the roof.  Your film boy will be first to see if he can fly.” The killer wrapped up the conversation by giving the account number then hung-up.  He then headed to meet his partner in the basement.

            Josh Fulwell looked at his options and against the advice of the police he called his bank and authorized a cash transfer to a Zurich bank account.  The other five million would be transferred to a different account on the release of Sam Brass and the OuterQuaker hostages.  Fulwell slammed the phone down in frustration. 

            The cops and the bureau were at a standstill outside the tower.  They still feared the outcome of a full siege and with no way to contact the hostage takers a negotiator was useless.  Wally Jarvis spoke first.

“Is there anyway we could lure them to the front of the building and take them out with sharp shooters?”

“I don’t think they’d fall for that.” Dave reasoned.

“They saw the tactical team coming and took them down in a matter of seconds.”

The FBI had just been informed that half the ransom had been paid. 

“We have to wait and see what their next move is.” the agent suggested. 

            In the basement of the tower the first intruder was rigging explosives to the outer walls.  Jackson the second intruder approached with good news.

“Ben, Half the money has been transferred to our account.  All we have to do is follow up with the end of the plan and we will walk out of here millionaires.” 

“The devices are all set.” Ben pointed to the detonator.  “Press the red button and water will flood the whole building.”

“Good.  The time is very close. What‘s that loose wire hanging down from the wall” Jackson enquired.

Ben turned to look and responded “I don’t see anything.”  When he turned Jackson had pulled a gun and was aiming it directly at him. 

“Ben, you remember when I said we could live happily off of five million dollars? I lied!”  With that he fired one shot hitting his partner square in the forehead. 

“The time is very close” he repeated and grabbed he detonator.

The conclusion of this story will be posted next week ...