Step on a Crack by James Patterson, Michael Ledwidge Page A

kingdom come. In fact, I’d seriously consider moving that NYPD helicopter off the roof if I were you. And I’d do it PDQ.”
    I found Commander Will Matthews with my eyes and made a cutting motion toward the roof of the bus. Will Matthews spoke to one of his cop entourage, a radio crackled, and a couple of seconds later, the rotor thump of the helicopter began to fall away.
    “Okay, Jack. I got my boss to move the helicopter back. Now, is everybody okay in there? I know we have some older folks who might need medical attention. There were reports of some gunfire. Has anybody been shot?”
    “Not yet,” Jack said.
    I ignored the provocative response for the time being. Once I bonded a little more, I would try to curtail the threats, get him to speak more reasonably, more calmly.
    “You guys need food or water or anything?” I asked.
    “We’re good for now,” Jack said. “At this point, I just want to lay two things on you that you need to start wrapping your mind around. You’re going to give us what we want, and we’re going to get away with this.
Say it
, Mike.”
    “We’re going to give you what you want, and you’re going to get away with this,” I said without hesitation. Until we had more of an advantage, I needed to get him to accept me as quickly as possible. See me as someone who was willing to give him what he wanted anyway.
    “Good boy,” Jack said. “I know it’s a little hard to compute, sitting where you’re sitting, Mike. A little hard to believe. So I just wanted to reach out and plant the seed there. Because it’s gonna happen. No matter how hard you try to resist. No matter how much you tough guys huff and puff.
We’re going to get away with this
.”
    “My job is to make sure we all come out of this in one piece. Including you, Jack. I want you to believe that.”
    “Aww, Mike, what a sweet thing to say. Oh, and don’t forget.
It’s already over, okay
? We win. Smell you later,” the hijacker said-and the line went dead on me.

Chapter 23
    “WHAT’S YOUR TAKE on these guys, Mike?” Mason suddenly found his voice again.
    I was about to try to answer, but being the closest to the command center window, I was the first to see the movement at the front of the cathedral.
    “Wait a second,” I said. “The doors are opening.
The front door
! Something’s going down.”
    The crackle of frantic radio calls ricocheted through the cop-filled trailer like one of my kids’ dime-store bouncy balls.
    At first I could only make out the dimness of the church’s interior. Then a man in a torn blue dress shirt appeared in the doorway. He was blinking in the pale sunlight as he stepped onto the flagstone plaza.
    Who was this? What was happening?
    “I have him,” I heard one of the snipers call over the police band.
    “Hold fire!” Will Matthews called back.
    A woman in a broken-heeled shoe hobbled out behind the man in the blue shirt.
    “
What the…
,” Will Matthews said as a thin stream, then a flood of people started pouring out onto the cathedral’s front steps.
    Hundreds, maybe a thousand people, were suddenly swarming out onto Fifth Avenue.
    Were the hijackers letting everyone go? The other cops around me seemed as confused as I was.
    We stared, silently watching the churchgoers scramble down the front steps. It was an unfathomable mob scene. Uniformed task force cops waded in immediately and guided the people south past the 49th Street barricade.
    “Get every detective down here. Robbery, Special Victims, everyone! I want those released hostages identified and interviewed,” Commander Will Matthews barked at one of the assistant chiefs.
    Then the doors of the cathedral began to close again. What was happening now?
    Martelli patted me on the back.
    “Nice work, Mike,” he said. “Textbook negotiating. You just saved thousands of lives.”
    I appreciated the compliment, but I didn’t think what had just happened had much to do with me.
    Maybe the strong-arm tactic Mason