Vanished (25 page)

“Brave,” said Mason. “Stupid, but brave. You have snipers in position?”

“Not yet. SERT is working on a briefing and plan.” Hale gestured at the group by the SERT armored vehicle.

“The snipers good?” Mason couldn’t help asking.

Hale frowned. “Of course. That’s what they train for.”

“I know. I know. I just had to ask. I was the one who had to shoot that day. It didn’t end well.” Seeing the specialized rifles made him jittery. He needed to trust the men holding those weapons.

“Anything else you can tell us about this guy?” Hale asked.

“Not really,” Mason answered. “My shooting was ruled good, but it’s hung over my head for two decades. I can’t imagine what it’s done to him.”

“Obviously it’s been festering a long time,” Ava said. “It’s caused him to grab Mason’s son and re-create how his own son died. It’s possible he believes he’s got nothing to lose.”

“But I’ve got everything to lose,” Mason stated. “And he wants to make that happen. He’s been chipping away at me and I didn’t realize it. He killed Josie—”

“What?” Duncan and Ava spoke at the same time.

“He told me on the phone. He set me up. I’m not sure why he did it other than to make my life miserable.”

“Wait. What are you talking about?” asked Captain Hale.

Mason looked the captain in the eye. “I’m on leave for the murder of one of my CIs.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that. An OSP detective. That was you?” Hale’s brows came together.

“Yes. Jopek set me up. Now this.”

One of the Portland Police officers in heavy SERT gear jogged over to their small group and addressed Hale. “Corello says the guy inside keeps asking for Mason Callahan. Corello’s not getting anywhere in negotiations with this guy until Callahan arrives.”

“That’d be me.” Mason lifted a hand at the helmeted officer. “Got two extra vests?” He looked at Ava. “I guess we’re going in together on this one.”

“No, we’re not,” Ava stated. She looked at Duncan. “If he’s waiting for Mason to show up so he can shoot Jake in front of him, then we’re not going to march Mason in there first thing. We need to get an assurance from him that he won’t immediately shoot when he sees Mason.”

“Wait a—,” Mason started.

“She’s right,” Duncan said. “One of the primary negotiation rules. He’s got to do something for us before we give him what he wants. You’re here. We can start with that.” He looked at Hale. “Tell your negotiator we’re sending in one of ours to help.”

Hale eyed Ava. “We’ll send an escort in with you.”

She shook her head. “No. He knows you guys are here. A visible show of force outside is good, but we don’t need to intimidate him any further. Me walking in alone is a lot less threatening, and this will buy you some time to streamline your plan.” She took the vest Hale handed to her.

Mason felt the ground tilt under his feet. “No. This isn’t right. You can’t go in there. He’s crazy. He wants to see me. That’s what we should be doing.”

Ava didn’t look up from strapping on her vest.

“She’s following the book,” Duncan said. “We know how to do this.”

Mason didn’t care. He’d attended the FBI’s hostage-negotiation seminars and knew their book was a damn good one. But that didn’t change that Ava was walking into the lion’s den. Alone. Every caveman instinct he had wanted to order her back into Duncan’s vehicle and tell her to stay put.

She looked up and held his gaze, her expression all business. Special Agent Ava McLane was a highly trained professional. And he needed to get over it and let her do her job.

“Fuck me.” Mason glared at every member in the group.

Ava raised a brow at him. “Can you handle this?”

“Yes.”

“When I call for you to come in, you will follow my lead. I’ll tell you what to say and what to do. No cowboy stuff.”

“Yes ma’am,” he drawled.

Her eyes softened. “We’ll get him out. Have faith.”

Mason nodded. He’d never felt more helpless in his life.

25

Sweat trickled down Ava’s back, and the glass doors whooshed open as she approached. Her borrowed vest felt heavier than the one she kept in the trunk of her vehicle. She hadn’t worked a negotiation in years. The Portland FBI office’s head negotiator was lecturing at Quantico, and the CARD team negotiator had hopped on a plane to an active incident in Texas the moment they’d found Henley. Right this minute, Ava was the agent with the most experience. The negotiation rules spun in her head.

Calm him down. Find out his goals, motivation, and emotional needs.

Be sincere.

She sucked in a deep breath as she moved toward the SERT police negotiator standing at a center check stand. She’d warned the Portland Police outside that she was going to play up the FBI’s role to Jopek and make it seem like they’d swept in to take over the incident and now were keeping the Portland Police SERT team at bay. Let Jopek feel he was important enough to warrant the FBI taking an active role.

“Kent, an agent from the FBI is joining me. She’s going to stay behind the check stand with me,” Corello spoke over the speaker as she moved closer.

Don’t startle him.

She nodded at Corello and held out her hand. “Ava McLane.”

“Ready for this?” Corello was a compact man in his fifties with kind eyes, but she could see the absolute focus behind the calm.

“As I’ll ever be. What do you have so far?”

“Not much. He won’t talk until Mason Callahan gets here. He arrived with you?”

“Yes, but I’m not letting him in until Jopek agrees to not hurt the boy the minute he sees Mason.”

“Of course,” agreed Corello.

Ava finally looked down the aisle and met Jake’s gaze. His eyes were wide, and she nodded at him with reassurance. Kent Jopek stared at her, and she calmly looked back. Kent did not look like a killer. He looked like the nice older guy who lived next door and let you borrow his Weedwacker. Smeared blood on the floor told her where the woman had been shot. And reminded her that Kent was perfectly capable of shooting someone. Corello handed her the handset from the phone-like intercom system.

“Mr. Jopek,” she spoke into the handset. “I’m Special Agent Ava McLane. I know you’re waiting for Mason Callahan, and I want you to know that he is outside with the Portland Police Department.” Her voice echoed through the empty store, sounding smooth and peaceful even to her critical ears.

“Get him in here!” Kent yelled back at her. He leaned against one of the freezer doors, his gun pointed her way and his other arm keeping Jake tight to his chest, his blade in hand.

“Mr. Jopek,” Ava started. “I have one concern that I need your word on first. Detective Callahan is here for you to talk to, but the FBI needs to know that you’re not going to hurt Jake the moment you see him.”

Kent didn’t say anything.

“I’m here to help you get out of this situation without injuring anyone else. That’s my main goal. If speaking with Mason Callahan is going to help you do that, we’ll bring him in. But if all it’s going to do is make you shoot him or Jake, then I have a problem.

“You let Henley go free. You left her in a safe spot and let us know where to find her. That tells me that you didn’t want to hurt a child. So far all that’s happened is that you’re holding Jake. That’s not a huge offense. He’s not that much older than Henley, so I can’t imagine that hurting him is something you want to do. That would only make this situation worse.”

Always make the consequences for the perpetrator sound minimal.

“Oh yeah? What about that woman I just shot?”

“She’s going to be fine,” Ava stated, hoping it was true. “You could have really hurt her, but you chose not to. And my understanding is that she was advancing on you, is that correct?”

“Yeah. She wouldn’t back off. I warned her!”

“I’m sure you did, Mr. Jopek. And that works in your favor. So right now, this situation is manageable. Let’s not give the police outside something to get angry about.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he snapped.

“Then please tell me what you want,” Ava said. “Mason is here. Like I said, if you want to talk to him, I need a promise that you won’t start shooting. Do you wish to tell him something specific?”

Do not empower by giving concessions without getting something in return.

“Damn right, I want to talk to him. I’ve only said it ten times!”

“So if I bring him in for you to speak with, you’ll just talk to him? I can make him stay and listen to what you have to say. You don’t need to hold Jake to make Mason listen.”

“Get him in here!”

“I will. And I’ll keep that Portland SERT team at bay as long as you agree not to shoot at him or Jake,” Ava stated, pushing for an agreement from the man.

Emphasize that harming someone will make the situation worse.

Kent was quiet, but Ava could tell he was thinking hard. He wanted Mason in front of him, but he was realizing that wouldn’t happen unless he made some concessions.

“Mr. Jopek, can you stop pointing the gun at the two of us? That simply puts the SERT team on edge,” Ava requested.

“Good one,” Corello mumbled as Kent moved the gun.

“Thank you,” she said into the speaker. “Trust me when I say that reduced everyone’s stress level outside. Let’s keep them relaxed, okay?” Most of the front of the store was glass. Ava didn’t know how good the SERT team’s view was, but she was pretty sure at least one sniper had Kent Jopek in his sights.

Kent looked away, and Ava lowered the handset. “We’ll let him stew on that for a while,” she said to Corello. “He needs to know that his actions affect how he’s viewed outside. And I want him to start seeing that there can be a different outcome from whatever he’s got planned in his head.” She firmly believed in a show of force. It was something to remind the hostage taker that dire consequences could happen if he reacted poorly. There was a time for forceful tactical maneuvers, but they hadn’t reached that yet. The SERT team could wait. It was still time to talk, feel him out.

“You’re good,” Corello stated. “Your voice makes me want to crawl into bed and take a nap.”

Ava snorted. “Thanks. I’m glad he’s accepted me.”

“This is the most relaxed I’ve seen him,” Corello said. “His jitters have settled down. You’ve got him thinking.”

“Do you think he’s suicidal?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” said Corello. “That’s been going through my mind over and over. He’s not acting like everything is hopeless. He seems very determined. The suicides I’ve worked with have always acted like it’s the end of the world and they simply don’t know how to go on. I don’t see that here.”

In her eyes, Kent Jopek still looked like a man ready to kill. But would he do it? She hadn’t brought up the murder of Mason’s informant, Josie. And she wouldn’t address it unless Kent mentioned it first. As far as Kent knew, she wasn’t aware of it. She brushed at the sweat on her temples. “He still needs to vent about his son’s death. And he needs to tell it to Callahan. My concern is what he has planned after he vents. Is his goal to shoot Jake to make Callahan suffer as he did? And then what? Suicide by cop?”

“Tell the SWAT team to stay away!” Kent yelled.

“They will stay out of the store as long as you aren’t hurting anyone. You have my word on that. The FBI isn’t interested in initiating a shooting,” Ava said.

“They’re going to want to end this as soon as possible!” Kent shouted back.

Never set a deadline. Time allows anger to dissipate.

“No, they’re not,” Ava said calmly. “This is where the FBI has the authority, and I’m not going to rush you. The Portland Police guys are going to stay back until I say so.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled to Corello, acknowledging the inflated agency position she’d played up for Kent.

“I don’t give a shit,” said Corello. “Say whatever you need to say to end this peacefully.”

“Okay,” yelled Kent. “I won’t shoot anyone. Send in Callahan.”

Ava studied the man. “Thank you, Kent. I’m going to take your word on that and have Corello tell them to send him in.” She nodded at Corello, who put his cell phone to his ear. “Since you’re not going to shoot anyone, are you willing to put the gun down?”

“No,” he shouted at her, his arm tightening on Jake.

“That’s fine. You realize I have to at least ask, right?” Ava asked. “You can keep the gun. How about the knife? Why do you need the knife if you have the gun?”

“Shut up.” Kent didn’t yell this time. Not like he had about the gun.

She took it as a good sign. Perhaps he wasn’t as attached to the knife as the gun.

“Okay. But I’m not going to let Mason close to you as long as you have a knife. He’s going to stay back here by us. I’ll make sure he hears everything you have to say to him.”

“Hurry up.”

She glanced at Corello, who nodded. Mason wouldn’t hesitate. He’d been ready to rush the store the minute they’d arrived. “He’s coming,” she said to Kent. “You’ll get your chance to talk to him.” She repeated the fact, wanting Kent to realize that he was only talking to Mason because she’d allowed it.

She heard the swishing sound of the doors and turned to see Mason stride in, a determined look on his face as he came to save his son.

The energetic sounds of Mannheim Steamroller’s “Carol of the Bells” filled the store, and Mason knew he’d hate the song for the rest of his life. He’d avoided this grocery story for two decades. He never drove by this particular store, taking time to detour around it. He couldn’t stand to see that damned sign. He even avoided shopping in other Safeways.

Ava stood at a center check stand with Corello. She seemed small in the huge store, and he mentally repeated that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Probably more than he was.

He’d been listening through Corello’s open cell-phone line. Ava was going by the book, and she was getting Kent to listen. He held her gaze as he strode toward her. Thank God, Kent hadn’t shot at her. Mason had wanted to hurt the man every time he’d yelled at Ava. She looked calm and in control; she was in work mode with her emotions tucked away. Something he understood very well. The flutter of the pulse in her neck told him she was on high alert. Just like him.

“I’m Corello.” The other negotiator held out his hand to Mason. He looked like he should be teaching college-level economics instead of negotiating with kidnappers. Mason shook his hand and looked past the check stand and down the aisle.

Jake’s calm gaze met him. His lips moved: “Dad.”

Thank God, Jake is okay.
Jake’s hands were tied behind him, and he stood with his feet wide and firmly planted for balance. The only sign of a problem was the arm of a killer around Jake’s neck, a knife gripped in one hand, a gun in his other hand pointed at Mason’s head.

Hate flowed through Mason, and his hands started to sweat. His palms itched to draw his weapon to punish the man.

You killed his son. No doubt the feeling is mutual.

Mason looked into Kent Jopek’s eyes and felt the hatred. It blew over him like a suffocating mass. The man had been fostering his hate for two decades, and right now Mason was the recipient of every ounce of it.

“Kent, would you not aim the gun our way?” Ava asked. “Let’s not give SERT a reason to get trigger happy.”

Kent Jopek slowly lowered the gun, holding Mason’s gaze.

He’d seen Kent a few times after his son’s death. There’d been an official inquiry into the shooting, and an attempt at a civil case, which had gone nowhere. Going on his lawyer’s advice, Mason had never reached out to the Jopek family. He’d known the family had tried to inflate the incident in the media, but there’d been too many eyewitnesses who’d come down firmly in Mason’s favor. The consensus both public and official had been that Mason acted correctly.

That didn’t help a family mourn their son.

Nor did it take away Mason’s own nightmares, in which he shot an innocent boy in the head.

Kent Jopek had changed little. He was still a big man with a firm gaze, but now his hair was gray. Deep lines framed his mouth—the look of a man in constant emotional pain.

Holiday music rang in Mason’s ears.

“What’s your side of the story?” Corello asked Mason.

“Twenty years ago, I was called to a scene right here where a homeless guy had Kent’s son with a knife at his neck. He started to slice open the boy’s throat and I shot, hitting both of them. The boy didn’t make it. Jopek blames me. Now he’s got my son.” Mason didn’t look away from Jake.

“Jesus Christ,” murmured Corello.

“Mr. Jopek,” Ava said over the intercom. “Mason is here to listen to what you have to say. What do you want to tell him?”

Mason braced himself for the avalanche of vitriol. Instead, Kent Jopek stared at him.

He waited. Jake turned his head the slightest bit, trying to look back at his captor as if to see if there was a reason the man wasn’t speaking. Kent jerked his arm, and Jake froze.

Mason took the intercom out of Ava’s hand. Her eyes cautioned him, and he gave her a faint smile. He held the handset to his mouth and lost all train of thought.