Chapter 10

"Get that monitor over here." Two agents struggled with the heavy monitor and the wires attached to the control box. Ron turned the switch and a picture quickly appeared in the monitor. "Good. Now let's see what we're dealing with."

A miniature camera had been snaked through the ventilation system in order to see what was really going on inside the room. The first image showed a sleeping or unconscious President, slumped next to the bed rails. A man in his early twenties was watching Jed, although for what reason Ron had no idea. The camera panned and noted six others scattered around the room. Two women were sitting in the chairs near the desk while four armed men sat on the floor, just watching the action in the room. As the camera changed position, Abbey's bed came into view. She was lying on her back, hands placed by her side, also sleeping or unconscious. The third woman was holding the First Lady's wrist, like she was taking her pulse. Into camera view came one man. He was motioning to Abbey, as if he was trying to tell the woman something.

"Good. Now we know how many we're actually dealing with. Nine people in all. Three women and six men. I wish that woman would call us back. I want to know what's going on in there."

As if they had overhead Ron's request, the tallest man, who had first been seen by Abbey's bed, walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. Ron answered it on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this the security man?"

"Yes. Where's the woman I spoke to earlier?"

"She's here. But I'm in charge now."

"Okay. How is the President doing?"

"He's having a nice nap. And his lovely wife won't be awake for a while either. However, I guess I need to tell you we might have given her too much medication. Her breathing is a little irregular. But that's okay. I mean, if she dies a little early it's, how you say, no sweat off my back."

Ron felt his body tense. 'No! I must remain calm. Both of their lives depend on it.' Taking a deep breath Ron continued with the questioning. "What can we do to get them out?"

"Oh, the mighty United States wants to negotiate. I thought you didn't negotiate with terrorists. And that's what you call us, don't you? Terrorists?"

"You haven't answered my question. What do you want?"

Spitimir laughed. "What do we want? I think you want something more badly than what we want. You want your President and First Lady out of here. And only you can get them out."

"What do you want?"

"I want nothing. We want to show the American people or true cause, not the filtered view you get through the government controlled media. We want our true story to come out."

"How?"

Spitimir laughed again. "You will be getting a videotape shortly, dubbed in English, and sent by courier. There's no need to interrogate the courier. He's just a pawn. I want to see the tape played ten times each on the major United States networks. That's Fox, CNN, NBC, CBS, and ABC. I want to hear the commentators agree with me that our fight is right and just. And I'll be looking on our TV. One nice thing about being in the VIP room is that we have satellite TV. So when you get the tape, it's up to you."

"If we play it, what will happen?"

"Well, we won't kill anybody for right now and your President and his wife get to live a little longer."

"If we don't?" Ron swallowed hard, afraid of hearing the answer.

"If you don't, then you have signed their death warrants. And we won't care what happens to us as we will be martyrs for our cause. Goodbye."

As the phone line went dead, Ron slammed his fist down on the table. "Damn!" This outburst was totally unlike the normally stoic agent but then this situation was totally unlike the normal situation. "Get Mr. McGarry and Ms. Cregg up here and fast!"