"I've heard very good things about you, Jessica," Philip Cameron was saying. "I hope you don't mind my calling you Jessica. I like to get to know anyone that I do business with."
"I haven't agreed to do business with you, Mr. Cameron," Jessica reminded him, smiling in spite of herself. The man was certainly sure of himself. She had to give him that.
"Philip, please. Perhaps we could have dinner next week? Discuss the possibility of my putting you on a personal retainer?"
"Dinner? Why not meet at my office instead?" Jessica suggested.
"But dinner would be so much more conducive to our getting to know each other," Philip insisted in a quiet voice.
"Perhaps. But I'm not sure that it would be a good idea. Exactly what do you want to put me on a 'personal retainer' for?" Jessica questioned, giving him her best courtroom look.
Phillip's smile was brilliant. "Legal matters, I assure you. But is there anything wrong with our being friends as well?"
Remington examined the case containing a diamond that he had once tried to steal- unsuccessfully, as it turned out. There didn't seem to be any alarm system in the cases themselves- there were, however two armed guards in the room, one at the door, the other stationed in a corner, watching the room closely. He nodded at the guard, not recognizing the man, but easily recognizing the uniform of Graybridge Security Services, the company that the Agency used almost exclusively.
Another glance around the room found Tony precariously close to where Jessica was still in conversation with Philip Cameron. The crowd had thinned until only twenty or so visitors remained in the exhibit, and as he watched, the guard from the corner moved to the door and relieved his partner, who left the hall. Coffee break, Remington decided.
Yet another sweep of his eyes, and Remington felt something was amiss. Strange that those three men were dressed so similarly. Dark slacks, black sweaters, gray jackets. And they had stationed themselves at the corners of the room, their eyes on the double doorway where the lone guard was stationed and scanning the room.
As nonchalantly as possible, Remington moved toward the spot where Jessica and Cameron were still talking. He glanced from time to time at a display, then back to the corners as he moved across the room.
Cameron noticed his approach. "Steele. I'm glad you're here. Perhaps you can convince your sister to agree to have dinner with me next week."
"I'm afraid I don't have much influence over Jessica's decisions," Remington told him.
"Humph," Tony muttered behind them, causing all three to turn in his direction. Remington noted with concern Jessica's suddenly pale face. "Sorry. I needed to clear my throat. Something must've gone down the wrong way. Hi, Jess."
"Antony," Jessica said.
Philip glanced from Tony to Jessica. "You know each other?"
"Mr. Roselli- works for the Agency," Remington informed the industrialist.
"Ah." He held out a hand to Tony. "Mr. Roselli."
Before Tony could move, there were sounds of a scuffle near the door, and Remington saw the guard go down, hit with the butt of a pistol on the back of his head. "Damn," he muttered realizing that the man standing in the doorway was dressed exactly like the three that he'd noticed before- and all four of them were now wearing black ski masks to hide their faces.
The man by the door pointed to one of his friends. "Close the doors and lock them. Okay, everyone. I want you to sit down against the wall." He waved his gun- and the one he'd taken from the guard- threateningly. "Slowly. No talking."
The doors closed and locked as the crowd began to follow the man's directions. "What do you want?" Cameron asked. "If it's the diamonds, you can't hope to-"
"I said no talking," the leader repeated.
"Do as he says, Cameron," Remington said softly. "No need for anyone to get hurt."
"Hmm. Smart man," the leader said as one of his men appeared. "No one WILL get hurt if you do as we tell you." He turned to the second man. "Get the bags and start putting the diamonds in them."
Two of the men drew black fabric cases from inside their jackets and them brought the butt of the guns down on the glass cases, allowing them access to the gems inside.
Cameron started to stand up. "You can't take those," he insisted, struggling toward the leader.
Remington rose as well, intending to pull Cameron back down.
A shot rang out . . .
***
"Why'd it have to rain?" Patrick asked with a childlike sigh of disappointment. "I didn't get to ride the roller coaster."
Laura looked out at the blinding rainstorm that had struck without warning as drove the rented sedan toward the Lexington. It was suddenly dawning on her that she was going to have to invest in something other than the two-seater MG. As much as she loved it, it just wasn't practical anymore. "Oh, well, we'll go again, okay, honey?" she said. "Of course, we might have to go by ourselves," she commented, glancing in the mirror to see Patrick and Megan's relieved expressions quickly change to ones of faux disappointment. "I think your brother and sister believe they're too old for Mickey Mouse."
"It would have been more fun if Daddy was with us," Megan commented.
"Megan,-"
"She's right, Mom," Daniel confirmed.
As they passed the Exhibition Center, Laura noticed the flashing lights in the rain, and wondered if there had been some kind of accident. Curious, she turned into the parking lot and drove to the ring of police vehicles surrounding the entrance. "What's going on?" Megan asked aloud.
"I don't know," Laura told her daughter. "But I'm going to find out. You three stay here, okay? I'm going to talk to that policeman right over there."
The rain was giving way to a grey mist as Laura approached the officer. "What's going on?" she asked him, causing him to turn in surprise.
"Nothing. I'll have to ask you to move along, ma'am," he told her.
Laura pulled out her wallet and showed him her identification. "I'm Laura Holt. I'm in charge of security for the Diamond Show here at the Center. If you can't tell me what's going on, maybe someone else can."
"You'd better talk to the captain," he suggested, looking a bit nervous. "He's over there by the command post."
Laura looked uncertainly toward the car. "Look, my kids are in the car. Can you keep an eye on them while I talk to the Captain?"
"Sure."
"Captain?" Laura said, approaching the harried looking man wearing a suit and talking to several people at once.
He glanced at her. "No civilians allowed. If you're press, outside the line," he said abruptly, then asked another man, "You're sure there aren't any phones in that room?"
"Nope. Maybe one of the hostages has a cell phone," the man said.
"But-" Laura began, trying again.
"Listen, lady, I've got a situation on my hands here. I don't need bystanders asking questions."
Laura pulled out her wallet again. "I'm *not* a bystander, Captain."
He read the information. "Laura Holt-Steele. Sorry, Mrs. Steele. You're in charge of security for the Diamond Show, right?"
"Yes. What happened? You mentioned hostages."
"Yeah. Well, about half an hour ago, one of the security guards decided to take a break. Said the crowd was small enough that one of them could handle it for a couple of minutes. He was talking to the receptionist at the front desk when they heard the doors close and lock. When he tried to open them, he was told that the people inside would be fine- IF a helicopter was sent to take he and his friends to safety."
"With the diamonds," Laura added.
"Yeah."
"Where is the security guard?"
Captain Jenkins pointed to a police car. "He and the receptionist are in there. The girl's pretty scared."
Laura went to the car. "Hello, Walters."
"Mrs. Steele. I mean- Miss Holt. I'm sorry," he stammered. "I guess I let you down."
Laura shook her head. "Just tell me what happened."
"I just never thought they'd try a daytime robbery. Too risky, you know?"
"Walters, give me a report," Laura repeated in a more forceful tone, designed to break through the man's guilty reflections.
"Not much TOO tell. It was slow. Twenty or so people, including Mr. Cameron."
"Cameron's *in* there? Did you tell the police that?"
"Yeah. And- someone else is in there, too."
Laura frowned.
***
"That's Dad's car," Daniel said, looking across the parking area to the VIP area.
"Nah," Megan said, dismissively, barely sparing it a glance as she surveyed that police cars and action instead. "There are lots of cars like his around."
"Not with R Steele-3 on the license plate," Daniel insisted.
Megan peered closer. "It is his car," she admitted, then looked at the building again. "Daddy's in there."
All three children looked at each other, their eyes wide with fear.
***
"Captain Jenkins!" Laura called, and the man turned to look at her. "When were you going to tell me that my husband was in that room?"
"I didn't have much of a chance, Miss- Mrs. Steele."
"When is the helicopter supposed to be here?" she asked.
"Helicopter?"
"That's what they want to release the hostages," Laura told him.
Jenkins sighed. "Mrs. Steele, the LAPD doesn't negotiate in these situations."
"Like hell they don't! You've got twenty people in there, twenty people who may die if you don't give those men what they want!"
"Mrs. Steele, until we speak to these people. We have no idea *what* is it that they actually want. So if you'll let me get back to work-"
Laura dug into her purse and came up with her cell phone. She'd turned it off- not wanting Remington to be able to call and check up on her. Now, she turned it on and dialed his number, praying that he had held true to form and was carrying his phone.
"Hello?" A strange voice answered.
"One moment, please," she said, smiling sweetly as she tapped Captain Jenkins on the shoulder and held out the phone. "It's for you."
Jenkins gave her a confused look and took the phone. "Captain Jenkins." His eyes widened in surprise. "Yes . . . Who am I talking to? . . . Okay. But I can't just call you 'hey you', can I? . . . Zachary. Okay, Zachary. How many people do you have in there with you? . . . We have a count of around twenty . . . What about the gunshot that was heard?" Laura's ears perked up as Jenkins turned away from her. Walters had mentioned hearing a single gunshot and a woman screaming. "How badly is he wounded? . . . We could send in a doctor- . . . okay. Okay. Never mind . . . What are your demands? . . . Okay. Let me see what I can do. But you realize we'll need something in exchange for-" he pulled the phone down and sighed. "He hung up. Thank you, Mrs. Steele."
"No. Thank my husband for being a creature of habit," Laura said.
"Yeah. About your husband, Mrs. Steele-"
"Yes?"
"Walters told you about the gunshot he heard?"
"He did." Laura felt suddenly chilled.
"According to this Zachary, your husband's the one who was shot."
"Oh my-"
"Zachary says he's still alive," Jenkins assured her.
"But he won't be if you wait too long," Laura finished. "So why aren't you ordering that helicopter?"
"I can't just order up a helicopter, Mrs. Steele," Jenkins insisted. "I have to go through channels."
"And while you're doing that, what if this -Zachary decides to kill all of them, Captain?" Laura asked. "It's more than just my husband in there. There are nineteen other people as well. One of them Philip Cameron, one of the wealthiest men in the entire STATE!"
Jenkins placed his hands on her shoulders. "We're aware of that. And we're doing what we can. Why don't you go sit down, take a few deep breaths and calm down? You're not going to help any of those people by over reacting. Just let us handle it, okay? It's what we're trained for."
Laura turned on her heel and stormed back toward the car, fuming. "That patronizing son of a b-" she muttered, jerking open the car door and getting inside. Her fingers gripped the top of the steering wheel so tightly that the knuckles were white.
"Mom?" Megan asked, sounding wary and frightened.
"It's okay, honey. Just some men trying to steal the diamonds. The police are trying to resolve it in their usual slow as molasses style."
"Daddy's in there," Patrick announced.
"No," Laura tried to lie. "He's- at home-"
"His car's over there," Daniel said, pointing to the BMW with familiar plates.
Laura's head fell to rest on her hands. "Is Daddy okay, Mom?" Megan asked.
"I don't know," Laura answered, opting for honesty. "He is in there, though."
"What are they going to do about it?" Daniel asked.
"These things take time, honey," Laura said. "They want a helicopter so that they can get away with the diamonds."
"The police don't want to give it to them, do they?" Megan asked, and Laura met her daughter's blue gaze in the mirror.
"No. They don't."
"We can't just sit here," Daniel insisted. "We gotta do something."
"There's not much we can do, Daniel. Except wait. There's no other way into the building-"
"Yes, there is," Megan told her.
Now Laura turned around to look directly at the girl. "What?"
Megan shrugged as she confessed, "I couldn't sleep last night. So I got up and was messing around your desk. I-found the plans for the Exhibition Hall and studied them."
"Why?"
"Thought it would be neat to try and find another way in," she said, shrugging again.
"Megan, when this is over, we are going to have long talk about certain things."
"Do you want to know what I found?" Megan asked.
"I suppose," Laura sighed. It wouldn't hurt to at least listen to what she had to say.
"The air conditioning vents. You can access them from the roof- and then they go all the way through the building. There are a couple of vents in the room where the diamonds are."
"That's true, but the vents are small. Too small for a policeman."
"You could fit in there," Daniel told her.
"Me?" Daniel, I haven't crawled through an air conditioning vent in-"
"Mom, it might be the only way to find out what's really going on in there. You might be able to save Daddy," Megan reminded her.
Laura looked at each of her children's eager faces. "Okay. Okay. But I'll need a diversion. And we'll have to wait a little longer til it's almost dark," she told them, looking out at the cloudy sky. *I just hope Remington has that long* she thought.
To Be Continued . . .