Hostages
The landing was softer than usual, but the first sounds Bogg heard ripped through him. There was terror here. He quickly scanned for Jeffrey and saw him trying to untangle himself from some packing materials. He took in the surrounding scene, every sense heightened by the screams that were quickly dying down.
The room was cluttered with tables and boxes. About a dozen people stood stock still in terror while a man in the center held a semi automatic weapon. He was pointing it at a man lying too still on the floor before him.
All this Bogg assessed in the few seconds it took Jeffrey to finally stand up. He was standing several feet in front of him, between Bogg and the gunman. Bogg could see him tense up, sensing the danger he was in as soon as he was upright. Bogg inched forward as slowly as he could, his eyes locked on the man holding the weapon. He was looking away from them and shouted at someone kneeling in another corner of the room.
In the space of 3 heartbeats, Bogg quietly but forcefully put his hand on Jeff's shoulder from behind and pulled him back, at the same time taking a step forward and to the side so that they had traded places. Bogg was now between Jeff and the gun. The gunman's attention was still absorbed by the other corner of the room. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, Bogg turned slightly and put his finger to his lips with one hand and with the other pushed Jeff a bit roughly, down and under the table they stood beside. He had noticed a short filing cabinet under the end of the table nearest the gunman and wanted Jeff behind it in case bullets started to fly.
He continued to take stock of his surroundings. One man was dead, and a mix of men, a women and one child stood clustered together in the room. There was one door, close to him at the moment, and one window on the opposite side of the room. He cringed as he heard several shots ring out and saw the man in the corner slump to the floor. His heart pounding against his ribs, he slowly unhooked the Omni from his belt and flipped it open, July 2, 1968, Los Angeles, California, red light. The date didn't ring any bells with him, he wondered if it would with Jeff. Very slowly he bent his knees until he could reach under the table. He hoped Jeff would be there and take it or he'd have to put it down on the floor and hope he found it. He knew he had to give Jeff an escape route from this horrible place.
Suddenly he felt someone take it and a small hand squeeze his tightly for scarcely a second. He felt a sudden lump in his throat. He squeezed back, hoping to somehow convey in that one act how much he loved Jeffrey, just in case he didn't get out of this.
He stood up, calmer and thinking clearly. He assumed he had to stop the gunman from killing any more people, but how? He stood still and quiet letting the scene calm down. In truth, he had only been here about a minute, though it had seemed a lifetime. Their entrance from above had been missed because the horror of the shootings had everyone's attention. Though there had been plenty of sound, shouting, screaming and general noise, he hadn't heard any words clearly enough to help him figure out what was happening. He decided to stay quiet to try to figure things out. That was often better, in the long run, than rushing into uncertainty.
"All a'ya," the gunman shouted, "over there," and he swung the gun around, using it to point to where he wanted everyone to go. Slowly, the others began moving to the corner of the room he had indicated. This was where the first dead man lay, away from the door and window, away from Jeffrey. He hated to do it, he wanted to stay close to Jeff, but the gunman didn't know Jeff was there, and he was glad to see that Jeff's position wasn't too far from the door. Maybe he could manage to get out. If things got too bad, he could Omni out, but Bogg would worry about his safety wherever he landed. He had given Jeff explicit instructions never to omni away from him unless there was absolutely no choice for that very reason. With his heart continuing to pound in his chest, he moved with the others into the far corner of the room. The gunman moved to the side of the window and peeked out, careful to keep the gun pointed at the hostages in the corner.
Suddenly another man entered the room quickly. Bogg's insides shook as he watched him walk past the table where Jeff was hidden. From that angle, he would be able to see Jeffrey. Bogg closed his eyes and exhaled as the second gunman approached the first. Apparently he hadn't seen anything.
"This is the police, the building is surrounded. We know you're in there with hostages. We're trying to establish contact by phone," the voice, magnified by an amplifier seemed like it surrounded them.
Almost as soon as the voice stopped, a phone rang in the room. The second gunman moved to pick it up. Bogg and the others could only hear his half of the conversation. What they heard hung in the air.
"I'll start killing these people one by one if you don't get me that money, a car to get to the airport, and a helicopter I can fly out of here." He paused, "I can see out front and I want to see a car ready to go. Then we'll talk about me letting some of these people leave." Another pause, "there's a kid in here, and he'll be first."
The woman beside Bogg clutched the child close to her, "please, not my son." The boy looked a little younger than Jeff and Bogg's heart went out to the mother.
Bogg stepped in front of them and faced the gunman, "you don't want to kill a kid," Bogg said, taking a gamble. He paused, swallowing hard as he looked down the barrel of the gun pointing at his chest. "Why don't you let him go, him and his mother," he whispered, his mouth suddenly very dry.
The gunman raised the rifle and aimed at Phineas.
