Act Two

Cindy was frustrated as hell. The officer guarding the barricades was unfamiliar, and her mentioning of her relationship with Inspector Boxer didn't impress him a bit.

 None of the teachers or students she'd spoken to had known anything about Jill or Claire. Everyone the intruders had left alive had probably been ushered into the kindergarten room right away. She had a bad feeling about this, and longed to speak to Lindsay, but this guy wouldn't see the necessity.

 When she and Lowan had returned to the tent, the principal was no longer there.

 She had to find a way to get the news about little Isela to Lindsay. In any way that she could.

 This officer here would be walking a beat for the rest of his career, but she couldn't care less. He'd had his chance.

 ***

 Jill was fairly proud of herself for having used the general commotion to relate the information to Lindsay. Hopefully it would bring them closer to identifying the perpetrators. She hadn't managed to put the cell phone back into her boot though, so she had to hide it in a toy box. Just in time, before one of the black-clad men looked her way. She could feel herself shaking.

 Claire reached out to take her hand into hers, and she squeezed it gratefully.

 The men had split up to watch the hostages, uttering threats at the teachers who frantically tried to calm the younger children. Some of the older ones who fully understood that they might not get out of this alive had a distant look of shock on their faces.

 In the midst of this, Heather Hogan was clutching a little girl to her, refusing to give her to the leader. Apparently he thought that this was Francisca Jimenez, the child they were after and wanted to separate from the group, no matter how often every one of the teachers had claimed that there was no child of this name here.

 When she'd first refused, he had fired a random shot into the group, hitting a young girl in the shoulder. One female teacher had cradled the bleeding child in her arms. When Claire had tried to get to her, she'd been pushed back roughly.

 Now, a terrified silence was settling over the group of hostages.

 "If you want, you can come with little Francisca."

 Heather held the sobbing girl tighter, surveyed the children and her colleagues, and then nodded.

 "Don't do this!" The words were out of her mouth before Jill could even think about it. "You still have a chance to cut a deal, but the moment you walk out of that door with that teacher and child, it's off."

 The leader turned around and walked over to her, unhurriedly. "What's it to you?"

 Jill didn't know where she was drawing her courage from. Maybe it was just sheer desperation. "Because I'm the person who could make you that deal."

 He came closer. She flinched when he reached out, but he didn't touch her; he just yanked the visitor's badge from her blouse. "I'll be sure to remember that," he said, making sure it sounded more like a threat than a source of relief. "Now shut up." Then he turned to one of his men and pointed at Heather.

 "Get them out of here."

 Jill exchanged a look with Claire. Years of friendship ensured that one's fear was obvious to the other even without words. They both hated the idea of Heather and the child alone with one of those monsters, no matter whether the girl was really the one they were after or not.

 "Look," Claire tried, "she's right. You can still get out of this, but--"

 The hard slap to her face, with the back of a hand, stunned her into silence.

 "Thank you," Heather whispered to Jill and Claire, her eyes bright, but tears kept at bay. "Please tell Tom that I love him."

 "You're going to tell him yourself," Claire said confidently, even as she wiped blood from her face. All of them knew she was making promises that would be hard to keep, but it was the thought that counted.

 At the moment, it was all they had.

 ***

 Tom banged his fist against the wall of the van hard enough to bruise his knuckles. "We can't wait any longer!"

 "We have to. Come on." Under the watchful gazes of the staff, he followed her outside without any protest, much to Lindsay's relief.

 "You've got to keep yourself together!" she urged. "We go in now, there's no telling how many people will get killed."

 He stared at her blankly. "There's no telling anyway. Aren't you thinking about your friends at all?"

 It was a low blow, maybe not intentionally, but it still struck. They're all I'm thinking about. "Of course I am. But until we have everyone in position, ready to go in there, the outcome will only be worse."

 "I know that!" Tom ran a shaky hand over his face.

 Taking a closer look, Lindsay was more than worried by what she saw. He shouldn't be here. He was usually good at being in control of a situation like this, making the right decisions, but with the person you loved in mortal danger, anybody's judgment would be clouded.

 Then again, Lindsay was quite sure she wouldn't let anyone keep her away from the scene either. It was hard on all of them, but they couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

 "There must be a way to take them from both sides without them noticing. And we'll find it."

 "In the meantime, they're killing our children. What are you going to do about it?" She spun around to see a tall man in his early thirties, with dark hair. He was almost handsome, if it wasn't for the obvious arrogance he had about himself. Talking to Tom, he had completely ignored her.

 "What the hell are you doing here?" Tom asked irritably, mirroring her thoughts.

 The man threw him a meaningful look. Tom sighed. "I'll handle it, Inspector," he said, dismissing her.

 The other man snorted, and even if Lindsay would have loved to give him a piece of her mind, that would have to wait. She had recognized him and wondered how he had made it past the police barricades. Their problems had just gotten bigger.

 "I'll have a word with the principal," she said and walked off, leaving the two men alone.

 ***

 Principal Graham showed them the students' files on the laptop that had been set up for her. There was no one by the name of Francisca Jimenez, and she couldn't  imagine why anybody would be after one of the children.

 Except in one case. Katerina Peral, from Heather's kindergarten class, was the daughter of Carlo Peral, the man who was currently conferring outside with Tom. He had been one of Tom's contacts back when he had been working on the gang task-force.

 It would have been too easy, though. Lindsay's guts told her that this wasn't gang-related. It had a different feel to it.

 She switched to the floor plan, staring once again at the lines that made up the layout of the school. Those giant windows were a problem, so were the guards at the door. If they could take them out without alerting the ones inside...

 If only they knew about the Jimenez girl. As it was, they had nothing to stand on for negotiation; even Wilcook had to admit it.

 As for now, the roof was probably their best bet. That, and-- "What is this?" she asked, pointing to a black bar next to a wall of the kindergarten play room.

 "Oh, that won't help you," Graham said. "It's an old elevator shaft from at least two renovations ago. No one has used it or been down there in years. It's probably not safe."

 "But there's still access?"

 The principal nodded reluctantly. "You might even be able to get in from the cellar of the neighboring building. There's still a door to that floor, bolted. However, there's no way to tell if you'd even make it up there."

 One team from the roof... one from the elevator shaft...  A plan was taking shape.

 The incoming call was from Jacobi, and she cast a thoughtful glance at the still nervous principal, wondering if she needed to lean a little harder on her before anyone was going into that building.

 "Boxer."

 "You won't believe this," he said without preamble. "Francisca Jimenez died four years ago in a car accident, together with her parents. They're after a phantom."

 "Anything on why they would want her?"

 "I talked to Jill's boss, and she's on it. Speaking of bosses... how is ours doing?"

 Lindsay sighed, half listening to the argument getting louder outside, and it was probably all the answer that her partner needed. "We all need this to end soon," she said. "We might have found a way inside, through an old elevator shaft."

 "Be careful." Jacobi sounded impressed but wary. "Any news about Jill and Claire...?"

 "We don't know yet," Lindsay said, almost surprised that no trace of the pain had found it into her voice.

 "I'll call you back as soon as I know more."

 They didn't give each other reassurances, knowing they could very well be false hopes. Ending the call, Lindsay turned all of her attention to the principal now. "Please, think," she said. "Is there any other child who could have attracted the attention of these criminals? They're organized. They didn't choose the school randomly, but because they wanted a certain child. If we know who it is, it would probably help us to solve this without any more bloodshed."

 Marla Graham nervously knotted her fingers together. She tried to hold Lindsay's gaze, but couldn't, looking down at her shaking hands instead.

 Lindsay sat down across from her, laying her own hand over Graham's. "If you've got something to tell, please, do it now. One child has already been killed, and at least two of your teachers. Don't let the bodycount rise."

 She had the uncanny memory of herself trying to make Kate Hammond confess to murder. She sure knew how to get them where it hurt.

 Principal Graham was no exception as she looked up with tears in her eyes. "We only wanted to protect her!"

 ***

 Cindy didn't have to think of a distraction after all; somebody else did it for her.

 Once she was convinced the man who had just approached the officer would keep him and another colleague occupied, she slipped past the barrier and carefully inched closer. Briefly, the thought of what Lindsay would think of her doing this crossed her mind, but it couldn't be helped. The information Betty Lowan had given her was crucial, and Lindsay could blame Officer Clueless later.

 The thought made Cindy smile. She wouldn't want to be in his shoes.

 It wasn't like she was actually doing anything dangerous, just going to talk to Lindsay. Hopefully, she had good news on Jill and Claire. Cindy wondered how Lindsay was holding up, doing her job under this much pressure. She'd gotten a glimpse of it when Ramos' people had taken McCarthy's family as hostages, knew how focused Lindsay would be - it was reassuring.

 Then again, there had been too much loss lately. Even with the images of the terrified people in the tent still vivid, it was hard to wrap one's mind around what was going on inside the building - and that their friends were right in the middle of it.

 She couldn't bear to think about it too much. She would have been too terrified to move.

 Not so Lindsay. Fear only spurred her further.

 With the layout of the school, there was no way for the police to get very close; they would have had to set themselves up beyond a certain distance. Trying to make herself as small as possible beside the hedges, Cindy looked around cautiously for anything that could look like an unmarked police van. She edged further into the territory, still a good distance from the actual school building. Which is fine with me, really. I'm not out to do something stupid.

 The school was to the right, the huge windows of the kindergarten area glistening in the distance. To the left, she saw the van; it had the sign of a construction firm on it, but the woman and man talking outside of it were familiar.

 At the sight of Lindsay, Cindy breathed a sigh of relief. Talk about finally getting somewhere.

 She allowed herself an instant to stop and watch, secretly admiring Lindsay's confident posture. She had to admit Lindsay had been right about going back to work - for some, it was the best therapy. And it wasn't like Cindy couldn't understand. After the shooting, she had returned to her own job as soon as possible. Too much time to think could kill you - sometimes literally.

 Cindy was about to make her way to the van when a movement to her right made her jump.

 The girl was about ten years old, and she had blood on her hands. "Please," she urged, reaching out. Cindy winced when the small fingers painted the skin on her arm crimson red. "My little brother is still there!"

 "Come on. I'll take you to the police."

 "No!" The girl shook her head, tugging on Cindy's arm insistently. "He fell. I can't carry him. Please!"

 They weren't going to go into the building, right? It wasn't like she could tell her no. She just couldn't.

 "Okay, quick. Show me where he is."

 She had the sinking feeling that while it was the right thing to do, it wouldn't turn out to be the smartest thing.

 ***

 Despite the circumstances, Inspector Warren Jacobi still knocked before he entered acting D.A. Denise Kwon's office.

 She gave him a quick, wry smile in acknowledgement. "I was going to call you," she said. "It took some calling in of favors, but here's what we have on the Jimenez family. It was hard to find anything on them, because they basically never existed. There was a car accident four years ago, two adults dead, a little girl - also dead according to the records."

 "Maybe not an accident after all?"

 Denise shrugged. "Likely, but it couldn't be proven. As I said, I owe favors to too many people now. They were in a witness protection program. The word was out that their identity had been found out, and they were going to be relocated. Martin Torres, the father, had been the main witness in the trial against Andrew Vasquez three years ago."

 "The crime lord? That Vasquez?"

 "Unfortunately, yes."

 "But wouldn't they know about the accident, in case it actually was one and they didn't help it happen?"

 Denise shook her head. "It gets better from there... the girl who died in the car was not the daughter, Francisca. In fact, her name should sound familiar, as you and Boxer worked on the case. Isela Quiroga."

 He must have gaped at her, because she laughed dryly. "I reacted the same way. And here's the last connection: The agent who was assigned to them worked undercover. As a kindergarten teacher."

 "Anything else?"

 Denise just smirked.

 "Thank you," he said sincerely. "We owe you."

 She made a dismissing hand gesture. "I'm glad to help. I'm pretty sure the girl we got to see was really Torres' daughter. For some reason, it was Isela in the car with the Torres'."

 "So we need to find the good Mr. Quiroga to clear this up. Thanks again."

 Jacobi was already heading for the door when she called him back. "And... Inspector?"

 "Yes?"

 "You call me the minute you hear anything about--"

 "Sure," he said, stifling a smile. Denise was as worried as all of them, but she had a hard time admitting it.

 She sighed. "This will be one Career Day none of these kids will ever forget. I wish I hadn't made her go."

 "No one could've known this would happen," he said, uncomfortably reminded of Jill's choice of words.

 'Gates of hell' seemed oddly fitting now.

 ***

 Jill stroked the dark hair of the girl who had just curled up in her lap, trying not to think of what would happen to Heather and the other girl now. She had hope... they weren't just separating them in order to kill. As they all had learned before, these men weren't worried about killing with an audience.

 Little Isela had scrambled over into her lap the moment her former teacher was gone from the room, and she hadn't looked up again.

 It was a different kind of horror for her, Jill assumed, because she'd probably just started to feel safe after having strangers invade her home and kill her brother.

 The warm weight in her lap was both reassuring and disconcerting. It spoke of life, and at the same time, its utter fragility.

 Again, she searched Claire's face, finding solace in the nearness of her friend, something that Jill guiltily acknowledged. She wouldn't mind seeing Lindsay soon, either...

 As if on cue, Claire said, "They're going to get us out."

 "I know."

 She watched the men pacing the room, their leader still with them. Was finding the Jimenez girl really all that was on their agenda? And if not, how had they planned to end this? They couldn't kill everyone in the room, could they?

 She gave herself the terrifying answer.

 Who would stop them?

 They both jumped when a desperate wail filled the room. "I need to get out! I can't breathe! Please, somebody help me!"

 This time, Claire didn't hesitate. While Jill kept holding on to Isela, praying that her friend wouldn't have to pay for her bravado, Claire crouched beside the teacher and shook her gently. "Miss? Please try to calm down. Take deep breaths. Yes, that's it."

 One of the masked gunmen approached her, and she gave him a daring look.

 He left her alone. His posturing was simply to remind her, to remind every one of them, of the threat.

 ***

 "You won't do a thing about it. You're worried about your kid, I can understand that. My wife is in there too!"

 Lindsay supposed it was not a good thing that Tom had Peral nearly by his collar. "Lieutenant. You should take a look at this." Both men looked equally unnerved at the interruption.

 "There's new information. And we might have just found ourselves a way in."

 Peral gave her the same presumptuous look as before. "Took you people long enough."

 "Mr. Peral here wants to tell us how police work is done. Would you get someone to accompany him back to his car?"

 "My pleasure," Lindsay said, stifling a grin.

 Tom shook his head as they both watched him walk away. "He's crazy. Of course he's worried like the rest of us, but he actually offered manpower for the storm. Can you believe that? SFPD assisted by a gang leader. Now that would be a headline for your friend."

 He laughed dryly, which Lindsay found slightly offensive, though she couldn't really say why. Maybe because she didn't have the time to remind him that Cindy didn't indulge in sensationalism like some of her colleagues did. And Lindsay didn't like that she had to remind him in the first place.

 "Where is she anyway?"

 "Outside of the barricaded area like all good reporters, I guess. Tom, Cindy isn't stupid."

 He nodded, and it remained unclear if he trusted her judgment in this, or if he just didn't want to waste time with an argument. "Okay. What about that way in you were talking about?"

 ***

 "No, absolutely not. I can't risk any of you breaking your necks!"

 "Can you risk any more dead hostages?" Lindsay asked in a harsh whisper. "This is the only chance we have. We can come in from two sides, from the roof and through that shaft. From the ground, it will never work. They'll notice too quickly."

 "Didn't you hear the principal? No one's been down there in forever!"

 "Until today. Tom," she said firmly. "This is how we can end it. They're not going to give up. Torres and his wife may be dead, but Quiroga raised the daughter. If they make the connection, they're going to kill her anyway. Hell, they might be more eager to kill once they know we've figured them out."

 Lindsay could tell he was torn. She would be too, making a decision that would hopefully save the lives of many people, including a loved one, but that could possibly endanger the women and men for whom he was responsible.

 Time slowed down to a standstill before he said, "All right. We do it your way."

 ***

 The boy looked at her with wide, terrified eyes, his small face tear-streaked. It made Cindy want to cry, too, but she was aware that what would help them most was to get both of the siblings to safety as soon as possible.

 She scooped up the boy. He had banged his knee when he fell, hence the blood on the girl's hands.  It was a relief that it was nothing more serious. Not a gunshot wound.

 The feeling was short-lived, though.

 There were several men coming along the same path that she had taken, blocking her way back. They didn't look like plainclothes at all. And how naïve had she been anyway, thinking they wouldn't watch the territory, make their rounds in a wide circle?

 Cindy backed away slowly, the girl's hand in hers, sticky-red.

 The only problem was it brought her closer to the school, not further away.

 The thought was slightly unreal, as was the hand over her mouth from out of nowhere, before she could scream.

 ***

 All she could see was a black rectangle far above them. It was at that moment when Lindsay began to question the wisdom of her insistence, but it couldn't be helped now. She tested the lowest foothold, relieved to find it solidly bolted into the wall. She was also grateful she'd never been claustrophobic, because she wouldn't be able to do this now. No fear of heights either. The only way in was through a connecting tunnel in the neighboring building, and this one was two floors down.

 Back when there had actually been an elevator in use instead of empty space, save for dust and possibly bugs, the school building had been much smaller.

 Unlike the newer elevators, this one would have transported about four people, maximum. Aware of the expectant looks on her, Lindsay straightened and began the climb, wincing a little when dust rose around her. Focusing on climbing, she ignored the cottony feel of it under her fingers.

 Graham had been right; no one had been in here for a long time. The upside of this was that the intruders would not expect anyone to come that way.

 Behind her, a member of the SWAT team sneezed.

 "Bless you," she murmured, trying not to breathe too deeply.

 ***

 After Jamie Galvan had told her his name, there had been one unreal, terrifying moment in which Cindy had thought that he was going to kill her. He had turned out to be harmless, but the current nightmare she found herself in was anything but.

 She had struggled, but ceased when the barrel of a gun was pressed into her side. They'd made a deal. He wouldn't hurt the children if she came with him quietly.

 It wasn't much of a consideration.

 What had her really scared, however, was that after he'd dragged her along the eerily quiet hallway, he pushed her into a room where none of the men wore any masks, and it made her think that they were far from being harmless like Jamie had been.

 There were two of them, one who she quickly pegged for the one in charge, and one of his minions. Her mind already filed away descriptions, distancing herself from the likely fact that she wouldn't be able to tell anybody.

 They weren't the only occupants of the room.

 There was the little girl who they thought was the one.

 Cindy could now easily tell that Betty Lowan had only told her half the truth. There was much more to this than a case of illegal immigration.

 And in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, was Heather, pleading with the men to leave the girl alone. "Look, why don't you understand that you've got it wrong? I've been with the school for five years, there is no Francisca Jimenez. Certainly not her. Her name is Maria." Cindy noted that her clothing was slightly disheveled, but not so much as to assume something... worse had happened in here. She couldn't go there, not now.

 They didn't listen to her, instead now turning their attention to Cindy who swallowed nervously.

 "Found her snooping around," the one who had brought her in explained, giving her a rough shove that almost made her stumble.

 He opened her bag and emptied the contents on the floor before leafing through her personal documents, coming up with her press ID.

 The one who was so obviously the leader smiled at her when he saw it. Cindy suppressed a shudder. There was not a trace of emotion in his clear blue eyes. He'd kill with the same care that other people would switch off their TV.

 "You wanted an exclusive?" he asked, sounding amused. "This is as exclusive as it's going to get, Ms. Crime Reporter. It's your lucky day - or maybe not."

 It would have been easy to fall into that bottomless pit of fear that seemed to be opening up around her, but somehow Cindy managed not to. "Does that mean I get to hear why you are terrifying all these people, including me, when the girl you're after isn't even here?"

 She closed her eyes for an instant, fearing he was going to shoot her right then and there.

 It didn't happen.

 Instead, one of the other men who had been standing by the window, said, "I don't like this, it can't be coincidence. We should pack up here."

 He was clearly nervous, and Cindy wondered if he was the one to worry about more. Hell, who was she kidding? Neither of these people was in any way reassuring. And they had already killed.

 "We will," his boss answered, unfazed. "You'll make another round and make sure that this time, you don't bring anyone back. And you," he directed at Heather who cringed, "better tell me all you know about your agent colleague. I'd prefer a living hostage, but it's not mandatory."

 He winked at Cindy. "Story of your life, huh?"

 She honestly didn't know how to answer that.

 ***

 The noise seemed deafening, making the windows rattle, and for a moment, Claire thought a bomb had gone off. She was still holding on to the woman who had had the breakdown earlier and was now quietly sobbing. Jill rocked little Isela who seemed so far gone she didn't even react to the overwhelming sound.

 Had they gone crazy? Or were they trying to bring the whole building down with the hostages trapped inside now that they thought they'd found the child they had been looking for?

 Claire found that she couldn't bring herself to fear much – any more than she already did, anyway. She was losing track of time. Part of her mind was aware that she was settling into shock like everyone else here, but it was still disconcerting.

 The thought of the teacher in the hallway came unbidden and she lowered her gaze, trying to keep up the pretense of calm, though inside, she longed to scream.

 The men were checking the doors and windows and speaking rapidly, which meant the hostages needed to keep it together. Because if the nervous reaction of the men was any indication, it wasn't them who had caused the explosion.

 Whatever that meant.

 ***

 "We can arrest all of these jokers later. In the meantime, the most important thing is that they don't interfere. Keep them out of the way."

 Lieutenant Tom Hogan could barely restrain his anger when he'd realized what was happening. They'd wanted a slow, cautious approach, but that was no longer possible, thanks to Peral and his men who had used a grenade to create a diversion and start an operation of their own.

 It was an act of arrogance that could probably cost more lives than they'd ever dared to fear, while he had teams halfway inside the building. Their lives were now in a lot more danger, too.

 "Now that has to be the most unfortunate outcome," Nelson Wilcook said. "Didn't anybody see this coming?"

 Tom wanted to slug him.

***

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