Time to Remember
John then turned the phones back over to me, still with no goals or objectives. I guess with goals the SWAT team could force a swifter resolution to the proceedings. The next call , the negotiator asked me what was going on, was there dissent among my ranks, he had seen the altercation between Kelly and I . I blathered on that everything was fine now and I was back in control. Kelly then stormed the office and snatched the phone of my hand, slapping me again!!!I screamed "Oh SHIT!!" and had to cover my mouth as I ran into the break room with the hostages, laughing hysterically. After stifling her own fit of giggles. she told him that we were starting to get hungry. Maybe we could negotiate to get lunch. After a few minutes of her listening to his demands, she hung up the phone.John took the next call (probably to show us how it is really done). I couldn't make out what he was saying, his tone was low and ominous, his delivery intense, but I was compelled to believe that he showed them we meant business! Maybe I should have watched some terrorist movies to prepare for this thing, but I really didn't cotton to the possibility of the NSA freezing up my Netflix!
John sent Kelly on another mission with the hostages huddled around her to act as a human shield. I continued taking calls, not giving the negotiator an inch while he tried to convince me to release a hostage in exchange for food and the copy of the Quaran he had procured. I told him the Quaran was for him, and he needed to read it. I regretted ever asking for it in the first place as if course I knew it would bite us in the butt later on! I reminded him that I was in control, they did not tell me what to do! Now bring us some food!
I showed him!
A little later, John returned asking where Kelly was. I replied that I thought she was patrolling the grounds agan with the hostages. He told me to call her on the walkie talkie. "Alpha Dog to...uh...Chick-girl" I flailed. We had never come up with call signs. Boy, we were poorly prepared terrorists. No matter though, John found her talkie in the conference room. She had taken it off.
We were destined for failure.
John disappeared for a while and the Pastor and I chatted about the moral implications of the situation and the incomprehensible mindset it would take to be a terrorist. When John returned, he appeared concerned. "They've got Kelly."
WWHHAATT???? That's not part of my itinerary!
He got on the phone and called the negotiator. Same low intonations beyond my realm of hearing, but it read with serious intent. When he got off, he told me that it was now the endgame. They will be coming for me shortly. I got back on the phone. "I am missing some of my people. What is going on? I can't find them anywhere!! Just know, this is on your head! You asked for this!" Slam! I felt like such a bad-ass!
John ushered the Pastor and I into the music room down the hall which had the other two hostages I had no dealings with- Kelly's son (who was supposed to be the "unknown variable" that they had no dossier on) and another gentleman from the church. He told me to place one of the two assault rifles on the couch between the Pastor and the other guy. I would be by the door, with the young boy sitting near me. When they came in, I was to immediately surrender and point the blame to the men on the couch. (really, John had told me to "pussy" out and point fingers at them. To be perfectly frank, it was not too much of a stretch for me with a SWAT team pointing guns at me.)
The next few minutes seemed to be an eternity with the forewarning of my impending doom. My stomach was in knots and my muscles tensed as we waited for them to burst through the door. We laughed nervously as Pastors stomach gurgled loudly. At least I wasn't the only one on edge. I guess it could have been just hunger, though. I wondered if they would still feed us even after we were captured. I took off my knit hat thinking that my lack of hat might make me blend in better with the hostages. Basically, I am an idiot. They had my picture, they even saw me releasing a prisoner . Besides, my carefully designed militia wear made me stand out like a sore thumb Who am I kidding?
Finally, the door slowly swung open and I saw roughly six guys there, all training their guns on me. As they piled into the room, I immediately flung my arms up in the air and yelled "It's not me, it's them! Get them! I am innocent! They raced over to the men and made them get on the ground, snatching the rifle between them and zip-tying their hands behind them. My ruse worked! They turned me around and zip-tied my hands behind my back and led me outside. The officer who led me out proceeded to pat me down, asking me what had happened. I told him that I had been visiting the church earlier that morning with my wife who had been in aerobics class and then this mess had happened. I was quite pleased with my story-until he came upon the pistol clipped to my waist. Oh yeah. Forgot about that. Then he was quite pleased with himself . "And what's this?" I told him I was an American, and I had a permit for that. But of course, the jig was up.
To be continued...
End Part Four
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