Kiesling glanced over in the direction of the captain to make sure he would not be overheard. “My instructions from the Attorney General’s office are to do whatever it takes to get that cylinder back. Whatever it takes. Her understanding is that’s the Pentagon’s position as well.
We get those kids and the Cylinder out of there, then we have a new ball game. He shoots his remaining hostages, we’ll shoot him down like a dog.
But the focus is the cylinder.”
Carrothers just looked at him. The FBI man sighed. “Look, Stafford took his chances when he stuck his nose into this thing. I’m sorry about the girl, but she knows something she should not know. Hell, maybe we can give the girl a weapon and she can get it to Stafford.”
Carrothers just stared, and Kiesling shrugged. It was weak, and he knew it. Carrothers shook his head and went back on the satellite link to brief General Waddell, who immediately seconded Kiesling’s plan. “Find the girl,” he ordered. ‘ Take his deal. That cylinder can kill thousands of people, he lets it loose. The Secdef is willing to trade two people — one actually, when you think in terms of innocent civilians — to get that thing back. Do whatever it takes, General. That’s why you’re there.”
“But first we have to find her, General,” Carrothers reminded him. If we can’t find her, he thought, we can’t send her in there. There was a pause on the net.
“I understand, General. But be advised, if you can’t H find that girl and get her in there before sunrise, we’re authorized and prepared to take other measures to neutralize the Wet Eye.”
Carrothers felt his heart stop. “Other measures, General? You mean like the DRMO?”
“Precisely, General.”
“But there are five—”
“I have those orders from the National Command Authority. This is a weapon of mass destruction. We either get our hands on it or we must ensure its destruction. Do we know that’s Carson in there?”
“Yes, sir. They found his truck.”
“Then find the girl, General, or get everyone away from that house by sunrise. Waddell off net.”
Carrothers looked at the handset in disbelief for a moment before hanging it up. He was sweating despite the cool night air.
He told Kiesling what the general had just said. Kiesling looked at his watch and swallowed. “We’d better find that girl,” he said.
As they pushed their way back across the wet grass to rejoin the command center, two FBI agents, flashlights swinging, met them at the gap in the stone wall.
“There’s a woman down on the Graniteville road,” one reported to Kiesling. “Showed up at the police line in some beat-to-shit pickup truck. Says she’s the owner of this place. A Mrs. Warren? Wants to talk to whoever’s in charge. She has a teenage girl with her.”
Kiesling and Carrothers stared at each other and then hurried down to the mobile command center. As they approached the van, they could see Gwen Warren standing by the side doors. The girl was standing a few feet away from her, looking very frightened, her hands jammed into the pockets of her sweater, her eyes enormous. Three Longstreet County deputies were with them, along with two state troopers. The lights from inside the mobile command center spilled out onto the state road, throwing all the faces into garish relief. Under different circumstances, Carrothers thought, the woman would be quite attractive, but now her face is a mask of worry.
“Don’t say anything about the sheriff,” Carrothers whispered out of the side of his mouth. “He was her ex husband. According to the deputies, they were still close.”
As it turned out, John Lee was Owen’s first question. “Where’s John Lee?” she said to Kiesling. “The deputies called. They said there was trouble here. Has something happened to him?”
Kiesling looked at Carrothers, who wasn’t sure what to say. Gwen looked from one to the other, and then she saw the expression on the deputies’ faces. “Tell me, damn you,” she said.
The senior deputy stepped forward and took off his hat. “Sheriff John Lee’s dead, Miz Warren. Bastard holed up there in the school shot him, best we can tell. Over by the dam. I’m real sorry, ma’am. We’re all real damned sorry.”
Gwen put a hand to her mouth, her face draining of color as the shock set in. She sat down abruptly on the side step of the van, and Carrothers thought for a moment she was going to be sick. He stepped forward, pushing past Kiesling, and squatted down. “Mrs. Warren? I’m General Carrothers, U.S. Army, ma’am. I’m deeply sorry for your loss. I just met Sheriff Warren. He struck me as a good man.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. The girl pushed her way between the men standing around her and sat down next to Gwen, her hands flying in some kind of sign language. Gwen just turned her face, and the girl made a small mewing noise, and then she began to cry. Gwen put an arm around her and held her while she dabbed at her own eyes.
“What is happening here?” she asked finally. Kiesling started to reply, but Carrothers gave him a sign to wait a minute. “Mrs. Warren, may I suggest we take a little walk, ma’am? Bring the girl if you’d like.”
Gwen looked up at him, momentarily confused, but then got up and went with Carrothers and Kiesling. They walked through the crowd of policemen standing around parked police cars, going away from the driveway in the direction of the field in which the Army vehicles were parked. The three deputies followed ten feet behind.
When they reached the wall, Gwen sat down again, the girl at her side.
Carrothers told her of what had happened that night. He had assumed that since the girl was mute, she was also deaf, but it was obvious as he was talking that she could hear just fine. He was a little nervous when he realized that this must be the psychic. Kiesling said nothing, but he made a show of looking at his watch frequently.
“He’s got the kids up there,” Carrothers concluded. “And an older woman.”
“That would be Mrs. Benning.” “Yes, ma’am,” Carrothers said. “And he’s got Staf ford. He has one gun that we know of, and one other thing.” He waited to see if she knew what he was talking about. According to Stafford’s boss, she was the one who had brought Stafford into it in the first place.
She looked up at him. She has truly beautiful eyes, he thought. “That thing,” she said. “He has that thing with him. The cylinder.”
“Yes, ma’am. He does. Mrs. Warren, that ‘thing’ contains an extremely deadly substance. If that substance gets loose, there is literally no telling how many people in this area might be harmed.”
She nodded, as if this wasn’t news. “And what does he want?” Her voice sounded dead.
“Something very unreasonable, ma’am,” Carrothers said, glancing over at Kiesling. “He’s willing to give us the cylinder, the kids, and Mrs. Benning.”
“In exchange for?”
“He wants this girl here,” Kiesling says. “And he keeps Stafford.”
“You’ve got to be out of your mind,” she said, staring rigidly into the darkness.
“Mrs. Warren, we don’t—” Kiesling began smoothly, but Carrothers cut him off again.
“I agree with you, Mrs. Warren,” he said. “So I’m totally opposed to that course of action. We’re trying desperately to think of something else, but we don’t have much time, and he’s threatening to hurt the kids.”
At the mention of the kids, her head snapped up. Kiesling tried to mollify her. “We don’t think he’ll do that, either, Mrs. Warren. This guy is not a hardened criminal. He’s a middle-aged civil servant who got way the hell out of his depth. But we don’t think he’s the type who could start shooting children.”
“Just full-grown sheriffs?” she asked quietly. Kiesling opened his mouth, but then he shut it. She looked back at Carrothers. “What other plan do you people have in mind, General?”