Fallout
Chapter 26
The Journal of John Nolan
I've been in LA long enough to have been through a few earthquakes, enough so I've lost count. Even if I was intimidated at first, most Angelenos shrugged and told me they were only a four-point-something. Not this time. This was a 6.9. LA wasn't the epicenter, but it was close enough to bring things crashing down.
Bailey was on full alert for search and rescue. As a first responder, I was involved in that too. My experience came in handy a couple of times in figuring out how buildings would fall and where people would be trapped. We pulled a mother and baby from under a house addition that collapsed. As it turned out, it was built by a company that was arrested for fraud that included faking inspection certificates. The mom was banged up. She covered her daughter with her body when the wall crumbled. But she'll be all right. Thank God the baby didn't have a scratch.
As the day went on, the LAPD had to leave most of the rescues to the LAFD. Some assholes always try to take advantage of a disaster. And this one was no different. Looters were smashing their way into stores, and people trapped on the freeways had their houses raided. We stopped as many of the thieves as we could, but we were overwhelmed. We couldn't even get into some of the streets where the robberies were going down. I'll be taking reports about them for a while.
But that wasn't the worst of it. A gang used the confusion to barge into a check-cashing store. The place had a lot of cash on hand that the employees could reach. But Los Panteras weren't satisfied with that. They were sure there was more in the safe, to which no one on-site had the combination. It was due to be opened by the second shift manager, but we couldn't reach him.
I was the first one on the scene answering a silent alarm. But there wasn't much I could do. So I called for the hostage negotiation team. It arrived complete with its trailer. Unfortunately, its primary tools, phones, were out of the mix. The landline into the store was down, and we didn't have numbers for any of the cellphones inside. That left a bullhorn, which eliminated the personal connection that negotiators try to forge. The only thing I could do was study the building to find a way to get a phone in, or at least visualize what was going on inside.
Like most places that handle cash, management had hardened the store's entrances – the obvious ones. But before it was a check-cashing place, it was a neighborhood grocery store, put out of business when a supermarket opened nearby. Fortunately, the system for stowing deliveries in a shallow basement was still in place. Two metal doors in the back alley opened to an old conveyor. They were secured with a combination lock, but my bolt cutters took care of that. The entrance conveyor was the width of old food cartons, 18 inches. There was no way I could squeeze in there, but I still remember Lucy's body. I knew she could. Since Caleb abducted her, she's wary of small spaces. Actually more than wary. They freak her out. But I know her well enough to understand she can put her fear aside if lives are at stake. So I called her.
Bradford had his doubts, but after he talked to Lieutenant Judith Versace, who heads up hostage negotiation, he admitted my idea was worth a try. I could see Lucy sweating, but she crawled down the conveyor. Once she was under the building, she found spots she could feed optical fiber cameras through the floor.
Sixty-year-old force of nature Lieutenant Versace retreated into the trailer with Bradford. I assume they were studying the feed from the cameras to work out a plan of attack. When they came out, they had one.
Bradford ran the gang members the cameras captured through facial recognition and pulled their backgrounds. As it turned out, one of them, Julio Perez, was very close to his mother. She'd put up his bail twice. Bradford sent me to get her.
Mrs. Clara Perez was only worried about one thing: that her son would be shot dead by the LAPD. Trying to convince her that I understood, I told her about Henry and how it felt to almost lose him. I believe by the time I delivered her to Versace, we'd formed a bond of sorts. However, she was glad to see another woman. Versace not only told Clara about her own children but her grandchildren. She assured her that she wanted very much for Julio to be able to give Clara grandchildren someday. But that could only happen if no one, gang member, or hostage died. When Clara took the bullhorn, she was ready to say anything that would keep everyone alive.
Clara tearfully told Julio how it would break her heart if he got hurt or ended up in jail for the rest of his life. Somehow her pleas got him to convince the other gang members. After what seemed a lifetime, the gang came out with their hands up. The LAPD didn't need to expend much effort to take them into custody. We had the medics check out the hostages. They were terrified but physically unharmed. Lucy talked with them for a while. I think it helped. If anyone understands terror, she does. And as much as she denies it, caregiving runs through her veins. The victims can also get counseling from Victim's Services.
The hostage situation marked a turning point for me. As we were clearing the scene, I shared my intention to specialize in hostage negotiation with Versace. Either I impressed her or made her feel sorry for me. Whatever her reason, she agreed to be my mentor. Grey has also decided to put me at hostage scenes whenever possible so that I can gain experience. He said we old guys have to stick together. I honestly don't know if he was joking.
After forty-eight hours straight of search and rescue, Bailey just wanted to sleep. I can't say that I blamed her. She barely stirred when I got up for my shift and was still half asleep when I came home. But the scent of Marinara roused her when I did my best to put dinner together. The sauce was out of a jar, but she didn't seem to mind. It's incredible how someone her size can be that ravenous, but I guess with everything she does, she burns the calories. When her fork slowed down, I got to tell her about my progress toward being a hostage negotiator.
Maybe it was a sudden burst of energy from the carbs, but she wanted to celebrate – and not with Champagne. My post-shift Tylenol had kicked in, but I could have used an application of Icy Hot before keeping up with Bailey. She offered me one better, showing off another of her multitude of talents - massage. Wow! I told Grey that I deal with the ache after the day's exertion with the pills and the ointment. But Bailey put anything from the drugstore to shame. That's one therapy I don't intend to share with Grey.