Chapter 62
FBI AGENTS AND LOCAL POLICE were dispatched to all the train stations along the route of the Northeast Corridor train, but blanketing the entire route would be next to impossible. The kidnappers knew that. They had everything working for them now.
Agents Cavalierre, Walsh, and Doud and I were on board the train out of Baltimore. We stationed ourselves at the front of the second car.
The rumbling train was a noisy place to be; we couldn’t think straight, or even talk among ourselves very well. We waited for the next contact from the kidnappers. Every passing minute seemed longer than it really was.
“Sometime soon they’re going to tell us to toss the duffel bags off the moving train,” I said. “That how you figure it? Any other ideas?”
Betsey nodded. “I don’t think they’ll chance meeting the train in one of the stations. Why should they? They know we can’t cover all of the territory between here and Boston. The ban they put on planes flying anywhere near the train was the clincher.”
“They seem to have solved the tricky problem of the drop, the exchange. He is a smart son of a bitch,” Agent Walsh said.
Betsey said, “He, or maybe it’s a she.”
I reminded her. “Tony Brophy said he met with a male, if we can believe him.”
“And if the person he saw was really the Mastermind,” she countered.
Agent Doud said, “The name bothers me. Makes him sound like a geek. A loser. The Mastermind.”
“Brophy said as much. He said the man he spoke to was an asshole. But he still wanted the job,” said Betsey.
“Yeah, well, the pay is good,” Doud said.
Betsey shrugged. “Maybe he is a geek, maybe some kind of computer genius. I wouldn’t be all that surprised. Geeks are running the world now, right? Getting even for what happened to them in high school. I sure am.”
“I was reasonably cool in high school,” I said, and winked.
The Handie-Talkie crackled again.
“Hi there, law-enforcement stars. The real fun’s about to start. Remember, if we see any choppers or planes near the train, a hostage will be shot,” the familiar male voice instructed. Was it the Mastermind?
“How do we know the hostages are still alive?” Betsey asked. “Why should we trust you to tell the truth? You’ve murdered innocent people before.”
“You don’t. You shouldn’t. We have. The bus hostages are alive, though. All right — open the train doors now! Get ready for my next signal. Get the duffel bags up to the door! Now, now, now! Move it! Don’t make us kill somebody.”
Chapter 63
THE FOUR OF US rushed to get the heavy bags of money to the nearest train door. I was already starting to sweat. My face and scalp felt flushed.
“Get ready! Get ready!” The voice on the Handie-Talkie yelled out frantic commands. “This is it.”
Betsey was already on another two-way alerting her people. The countryside was flashing by in bright greens and muddy browns. We were somewhere near Aberdeen, Maryland, having passed through the last station about seven minutes earlier.
“Get ready! Are you ready? Don’t disappoint me!” the voice squawked loudly.
So far, the only trick we had come up with was to try to spread out the area where the money bags would fall. We had even considered keeping one bag on board, which might force them to search for a while. But we agreed that was too dangerous for the hostages.
The Handie-Talkie went dead again.
“Fuck!” Doud exclaimed.
“Do we throw the money bags out?” Walsh yelled over the rumble of the train and the rushing wind.
“No! Wait!” I yelled at him and Doud, who was leaning precariously over the train’s edge. “Wait for their instructions! He would have told us to throw the money off. Don’t throw the
bags!”