Read Online Stalling for Time by Gary Noesner - Free Book Online

and detached the train car holding Mario, its windows curtained, onto a side track about fifty yards to the right when viewed from the station. There was one empty car immediately adjacent on either side. Responding police officers, shielded by the steel girders of the station, attempted to communicate with the Colombian via loudspeaker, but their overtures were met with silence. Next, a tactical officer under heavy cover crept up to Mario’s train car and attached a listening device as well as a speaker. As he worked to set up this means of communication, he noticed a hole where a bullet had exited the compartment door.
    At around 9:00 a.m., the Raleigh officers on the scene heard another shot ring out from inside the compartment. At this point they considered the option of storming the train, but they simply did not know enough about what was going on inside and who was at risk.
    At 10:20 a.m., the portion of the train not isolated by the police pulled out of the station to continue with the journey to New York.
    Based on the few facts available at the time, neither the FBI nor local police had any reason to assume that Mario had boarded a train in Jacksonville with the intention of shooting off his weapons just before arriving in Raleigh. The loud argument reported by witnesses suggested that a domestic dispute had triggered the violence. It made sense that the subject inside had acted spontaneously, was now scared, and probably had no clear plan on what to do next or how to extricate himself.
    About an hour after the other train cars left the station, several more gunshots rang out from inside the compartment. Once again, the police had done nothing to provoke Mario. Was he killing his captives one by one? Had he killed himself? The police simply didn’t know.
    Chief Heineman knew he had three options. The first was to mount a rescue attempt. The second was to establish a dialogue with Mario to convince him to surrender. The third was to wait and do nothing, and see if he would come out on his own, what the NYPD’s Harvey Schlossberg used to call “dynamic inactivity.”
    Heineman questioned Amtrak officials to try to pick up any insights that might help him devise a strategy. He learned that railroad passenger cars are made with heavy-gauge steel in order to survive derailments, which makes them almost impenetrable. He also learned that the thick glass windows were built to withstand gunshots coming in from the outside, which meant that a rescue attempt was not a viable option. He knew it wouldn’t be like trying to kick in a wood-framed door in a tenement building; Mario would have plenty of time to kill the children if he was so inclined. And Heineman couldn’t simply wait, because the children were at risk. So he was going to have to establish a dialogue with Mario.
    Unfortunately, the Raleigh Police Department did not have a Spanish-speaking negotiator. Fortunately, one of the EMTs deployed to the scene was Jorge Oliva, a Cuban native. Heineman recruited him on the spot and installed him in another sleeping compartment about fifteen feet away. He took over the effort via bullhorn to elicit a response from Mario.
    At around 12:30 p.m. officers heard four more shots fired from inside the compartment. So Mario had not killed himself earlier. But what was going on? Was he simply firing off rounds to keep the police at bay? Most of all, were his captives still alive?
    Throughout that afternoon and early evening, Jorge conveyed to Mario offers of food and drink, with special concern for the children. No response. Then the listening device attached to the compartment door picked up the sound of the children crying. Okay, the kids were still alive. But this only increased the urgency of establishing communication; they were clearly in distress and in danger.
    At 8:00 p.m. Mario fired another shot. Then silence returned.
    Four hours later, almost nineteen hours into the standoff, Mario suddenly and inexplicably yelled