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'link. And turning, saw Roarke striding through the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Media bulletin." He didn't speak of the terror he'd lived with since hearing the report that there had been weapons fired, officers wounded, and a hostage taken at Cop Central. And from his quick scan of the room, he sized up the most vital aspects of the situation.
His wife was unharmed. And Feeney was missing.
"Feeney?"
"The hostage. I don't have time for you."
He laid a hand on her arm before she could walk away. "What can I do to help?"
She didn't waste time asking how he'd gotten into a secured area in the first place. He was a man who went where he wanted to go. Nor did she ask how he expected to help when the sector was loaded with cops whose job it was to deal with a crisis.
Nobody was better at cutting through a crisis.
"McNab was hit."
"Christ." He turned, as she did, and found Peabody, on the floor with the first medical team.
"I don't know his status. I'd feel better if I knew one way or the other."
"Done." There was anger in him now, a kind of frigid fury more deadly than heat. "Lieutenant, if it's money he wants, the department will have unlimited funds at its disposal."
"Appreciated, but it's not money. Go, give Peabody a shoulder. I need to focus on getting Feeney out of there alive. Roarke. Wait." She scooped a hand through her hair. "Find which cube is Halloway's. He's got a data unit in there. Shut it down. Don't touch it, don't get any closer to it than necessary. Just shut it down."
***
Inside Feeney's office, Halloway screamed into the 'link. Rusty knifes were slicing their way through his brain. He could feel it bleeding. "You want to talk to me? Then turn the temp down in this furnace. You keep trying to fry me out, I drop this useless old E-fart. I'm not talking to you, asshole. Put Dallas back on. Put that goddamn lying bitch back on. You got ten seconds!"
At the signal, she sprang to the 'link. "I'm here Halloway."
"Didn't I order you to turn the heat down in here? Didn't I give you a direct order?"
"Yes, sir. I followed that order."
"Don't you lie to me. You want me to start on his hands." Halloway pressed his weapon down hard on the back of Feeney's hand. "I give it a good strong jolt, he won't be jerking off with this hand anymore."
"I'll have it turned down farther. Halloway, just listen to me. Look at Feeney. He's not sweating. You can do a temp check. The room's down to sixty-five."
"That's bullshit! I'm burning up in here."
"Because you're sick. You've got some kind of virus, like an infection. You've got a bad headache, haven't you, Halloway? And you've got a nosebleed. It's the infection that's making you feel this way, the infection that's hurting you. You need medical. Let us get you some help, and we'll straighten all this out."
"Why don't you come in, bitch?" His mouth twisted. "Come on in and you'll see how fast we straighten this out."
"I can come in. I can bring you some medicine."
"Fuck you."
"I come in, Halloway, and don't deliver. You'd have two hostages. You're in control. You're in charge. You know Feeney's a friend of mine. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his welfare. I can bring you in medication for your headache, and whatever else you want."
"Fuck you," he said again, and broke transmission.
"Bartering another hostage isn't the way to deal in this situation." The negotiator shoved himself between Eve and the 'link. "We don't need any sacrificing, we don't need any hotshots."
"Normally I'd agree with you, but the man holding the cards in there isn't going to listen to the usual lines. First, he's a cop and he knows the routine. Second, he's suffering from some sort of neurological disorder that's affecting his behavior, his judgment, his actions."
"I'm in charge of this negotiation."
"This isn't a pissing contest, damn it. I don't want your job. I want to see both of those cops come out of there in one piece. Commander, I'm sorry, I don't have time
"Media bulletin." He didn't speak of the terror he'd lived with since hearing the report that there had been weapons fired, officers wounded, and a hostage taken at Cop Central. And from his quick scan of the room, he sized up the most vital aspects of the situation.
His wife was unharmed. And Feeney was missing.
"Feeney?"
"The hostage. I don't have time for you."
He laid a hand on her arm before she could walk away. "What can I do to help?"
She didn't waste time asking how he'd gotten into a secured area in the first place. He was a man who went where he wanted to go. Nor did she ask how he expected to help when the sector was loaded with cops whose job it was to deal with a crisis.
Nobody was better at cutting through a crisis.
"McNab was hit."
"Christ." He turned, as she did, and found Peabody, on the floor with the first medical team.
"I don't know his status. I'd feel better if I knew one way or the other."
"Done." There was anger in him now, a kind of frigid fury more deadly than heat. "Lieutenant, if it's money he wants, the department will have unlimited funds at its disposal."
"Appreciated, but it's not money. Go, give Peabody a shoulder. I need to focus on getting Feeney out of there alive. Roarke. Wait." She scooped a hand through her hair. "Find which cube is Halloway's. He's got a data unit in there. Shut it down. Don't touch it, don't get any closer to it than necessary. Just shut it down."
***
Inside Feeney's office, Halloway screamed into the 'link. Rusty knifes were slicing their way through his brain. He could feel it bleeding. "You want to talk to me? Then turn the temp down in this furnace. You keep trying to fry me out, I drop this useless old E-fart. I'm not talking to you, asshole. Put Dallas back on. Put that goddamn lying bitch back on. You got ten seconds!"
At the signal, she sprang to the 'link. "I'm here Halloway."
"Didn't I order you to turn the heat down in here? Didn't I give you a direct order?"
"Yes, sir. I followed that order."
"Don't you lie to me. You want me to start on his hands." Halloway pressed his weapon down hard on the back of Feeney's hand. "I give it a good strong jolt, he won't be jerking off with this hand anymore."
"I'll have it turned down farther. Halloway, just listen to me. Look at Feeney. He's not sweating. You can do a temp check. The room's down to sixty-five."
"That's bullshit! I'm burning up in here."
"Because you're sick. You've got some kind of virus, like an infection. You've got a bad headache, haven't you, Halloway? And you've got a nosebleed. It's the infection that's making you feel this way, the infection that's hurting you. You need medical. Let us get you some help, and we'll straighten all this out."
"Why don't you come in, bitch?" His mouth twisted. "Come on in and you'll see how fast we straighten this out."
"I can come in. I can bring you some medicine."
"Fuck you."
"I come in, Halloway, and don't deliver. You'd have two hostages. You're in control. You're in charge. You know Feeney's a friend of mine. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his welfare. I can bring you in medication for your headache, and whatever else you want."
"Fuck you," he said again, and broke transmission.
"Bartering another hostage isn't the way to deal in this situation." The negotiator shoved himself between Eve and the 'link. "We don't need any sacrificing, we don't need any hotshots."
"Normally I'd agree with you, but the man holding the cards in there isn't going to listen to the usual lines. First, he's a cop and he knows the routine. Second, he's suffering from some sort of neurological disorder that's affecting his behavior, his judgment, his actions."
"I'm in charge of this negotiation."
"This isn't a pissing contest, damn it. I don't want your job. I want to see both of those cops come out of there in one piece. Commander, I'm sorry, I don't have time
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