CHAPTER TWO         Leaving the principal and assistant principal in the foyer, the five SWAT officers hurried from the main east-west corridor into the adjacent north-south corridor.  Like all school hallways, it was long and wide, proving sufficient room for a crowd of students to pass both directions as they moved to and from class.  Lining the walls on either side of them were metal lockers, painted beige and numbered, their contents protected by combination locks.         Some of the classroom doors were open, providing unobstructed views of the interior, while others were closed.  Curiously, the officers stole peeks through the open doors and the small glass observation windows, inspecting the empty classrooms and their rows of student desks arranged facing the larger teachers� desks.   The assignment was bringing back conflicting floods of memories for the three younger officers, the oldest of which was hardly more than a decade out of high school himself.         Street leaned close to McCabe, nudging him with his elbow.  �Talk about deja vu,� he said, keeping his voice low. �I still have nightmares about still being in school trying to find my locker.�         �You too?� T. J. asked.  �Man, I thought I was the only one!  I search all over and never find it!�         �Me too!�         �Pipe down, you two,� Hondo commanded.          Street and McCabe said no more, and the group proceeded in silence, taking the appropriate turns toward the school cafeteria.  Everything about their accoutrements was designed for silent approach, from their soft-soled shoes to their rifles, and they barely made a sound as they made their way along the tile floor toward their destination.        They were nearing the corridor that had been barricaded by the gang members, and as they crept up on the junction of corridors, Hondo raised his hand, stopping his team.  Motioning for them to stay back, he leaned around the corner to observe the barricade that had been erected by the gang members.         The gang members must have thought it ingenious, but to the combat-experienced policeman, it was a ridiculously ineffective effort to deter intrusion by the authorities.  Two tables stood upright, shoved together to create a single surface.  Two other tables had been overturned in front of them, leaving a long narrow space where the upright edge did not meet the edges of the overturned tables.  Obviously, it was intended to create a crude bunker, but the teens were apparently unaware that the SWAT unit�s M-16 rifles were capable of not only penetrating the Formica surface of the tables, but would easily turn them into something resembling Swiss cheese.         Pacing restlessly on the other side of the barricade,  the teenaged gang member assigned the task of guard suddenly realized his space was being violated, and he instantly dodged under the table.  A moment later, the muzzle of a pistol emerged through the narrow gap, and Hondo could see his eyes peering through at him.  Had the situation been different, Hondo would have been amused by the youth�s belief that he was protected by his barricade.         �Stay back!� the teen warned.         �Just simmer down there, son,� Hondo said, raising his hand in an attempt to placate the youth.         �I ain�t your son!� the teen shouted, a frantic edge to his voice.  �You a cop?         �Yes, I am.  I�m Lieutenant Harrelson, WCPD.�         �That principal was told not to call the cops!�  He slammed his fist against the barricade in frustration and anger.  "Michael ain't gonna like this!  He ain't gonna like this at all!"         �He�s high as a kite,� Luca said, quietly, drawing Hondo�s attention to the younger officer.  �Let me talk to him.�         Because of his youthful appearance and his ability to get close to people and earn their trust, Luca had been a specialized Vice officer, usually working undercover, before joining the SWAT unit, and Hondo knew that the younger officer was experienced in dealing with drug addicts.  His instincts on the subject had proven viable in every test put before him, so far.         Hondo nodded his approval, and stepped back.  �Be careful, though,� he instructed.  �We don�t want to get him riled up any more than he already is.�         Luca stepped to the corner, taking Hondo�s place before the youth, allowing him to get a look at him.  Speaking pleasantly, as if initiating a normal conversation, he said, �My name is Luca.  What�s yours?�         �None of your business!� the boy shouted.  �You�re another cop!�         �Yes, I am.  Principal Ames had to contact us.  What?  You thought he could just waltz into the jail and secure the release of the prisoners without anyone raising an eyebrow?�         The teen was silent, thinking about that, indicating that he had not considered that small detail.         �You didn�t think about that, did you?� Luca asked.  �Well, drugs can do that to a person.  Causes them to make irrational decisions.  And this, my friend, is a very irrational decision.�         Again, there was silence behind the barricade, but Luca could see the muzzle of the gun pointed at him through the gap between the upright and overturned tables.  He did not like facing the wrong end of a gun, but he knew he was well protected by the bulletproof vest.  He was only vulnerable in the head and extremities.  Hopefully, the teen was not a crack shot.         �Why don�t we talk about this?� he asked.         �I got nothin� to say to you!�         �All right, then why don�t I do the talking, and you can listen?  Whoever came up with this idea didn�t have the mental capacity to think it through rationally.  I know it wasn�t your idea, though.  I think you�re smart enough to know that this plan won�t work.  Am I right?�  He paused to give the youth time to think about it and time to answer.  When he didn�t, Luca continued, �Listen to me.  You�ve really gotten yourself in a bad situation, here.  there�s no way out for you, you must know that by now.  The school is completely surrounded by the police.  The best thing for you to do is to surrender peacefully.  Believe me, it�ll go better for you in the long run if you surrender and cooperate with us.  So, what do you say?  I promise you�ll get fair treatment.  Just put down your gun, and walk toward us.�         There was a long moment of silence as the teen mulled over his words.  Just when they thought perhaps they could coerce the youth into surrendering, he dashed their hopes.  �Yer outta yer mind!  Michael will kill me if I rat on him!�         �No, he won�t.  I promise.  We�ll protect you, but you have to cooperate with us.�         �You pigs are all liars!� he shouted.  �Michael was right!  We can�t trust anyone except each other!�  The muzzle of the gun was shaking, indicating that the teen was trembling with fear, rage, or frustration, or a combination of all three.         �That isn�t true,� Luca insisted.  �You can trust us.  We want to see you get out of this in one piece.�         �No you don�t!  I have to get my brother out of jail!  Michael said he could get Chris out of jail!  He�s the only one who cares about me!�  His voice had risen to a frantic pitch.  �I�m warning you -- go back, or I�ll shoot!�         Hondo grasped Luca by the vest and pulled him back.  �I don�t like the tone of his voice,� the senior officer said.         �Yeah, I don�t either,� Luca agreed.  �In his present state, he could even shoot by accident.  He�s really wired.  We know one thing for certain, though; he isn�t the leader.  He�s just a scared kid who got mixed up in something over his head in a misguided attempt to free his brother from jail.  The leader, Michael, is probably in the cafeteria with the hostages.�         �Why do you think that?� asked Deke.         �My guess is, this Michael person probably intends to terrorize the hostages.  You�ve seen how volatile this one is.  Imagine a kid who already has a tendency toward hostility, according to what Ames told us, who is on drugs and has a gun in his hand.  These gang members don�t reach the level of leader by being nice.  Believe me, Michael will make this kid look like an alter boy.�         Hondo drew a deep breath.  Clearly, that was not what he had wanted to hear.  After a moment of consideration, he leaned around the corner again.  �Listen to me; we need to speak to Michael.�        Another pause ensued, then the teen asked, �What makes you think we have someone here named �Michael�?�         �You just told us,� Hondo reminded him.         The youth fell silent again, thinking about that, apparently trying to remember if he had indeed revealed Michael�s name, or if the cops were bluffing.         Luca leaned close to the corner to make himself heard.  �It�s those drugs again.  They play havoc with the mind, don�t they?  Besides, Michael was recognized when you guys came in here.  We know you�re with the Stingrays.�         Panic crept into the boy�s voice.  �No, you�re bluffing!�         �I�m giving it to you straight,� Luca told him.  �You�re all wearing gang jackets with stingrays on the back.  It doesn�t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.�         The boy was fidgeting under his barricade.  Hondo could see him tugging at his hair with his free hand, trying to decide what to do.  Between the effects of the drug Michael had given him and the demands from the cops, the pressure was almost too much for him to handle.  Finally, the muzzle of the pistol was withdrawn from the gap, and he crawled out from under the table.         Pointing the pistol toward the cops, he started backing toward the cafeteria.  �All right, I�ll get Michael, but don�t you dare come any closer, or you�ll wish you hadn�t!�         �All right,� Hondo promised.  �We won�t come any closer."         The officers waited at the corner  and listened to the teen�s footsteps retreating down the corridor toward the cafeteria.  Then, they heard the sound of angry voices, suggesting that Michael was not happy about the idea of confronting the police.  Finally, they heard two pairs of footsteps returning to the barricade.         Hondo leaned around the corner to get a look at the newcomer.  This boy was entirely different than the nervous guard who had been placed at the barricade.  His sun bleached hair was long and dirty, and he walked with the confident swagger of a gang leader.  They could see a ragged scar across his left cheek, possibly made by a knife wound, evidence of a violent past.         He raised his pistol, threateningly, aiming it at Hondo.  �You stay put, cop!  I know how to use this!�         �I believe you,� Hondo told him in a placating voice.         �I heard you pigs want to talk to me.�  His voice contained the aggressive tone of someone high on drugs.         �If you�re Michael, yes we do.�         �That�s me.  Whad�ya want?�         �I advise you to give it up.  This road you�re on leads nowhere but an early grave.  Let�s end this peacefully, and you boys will get off a lot easier than you will if you hurt someone.�         �We ain�t boys, Pig!  We�re Stingrays, and we ain�t interested in anything except getting our comrades freed and collecting a ransom for the hostages.  You do that, or else we�ll start executing our prisoners!�         The men exchanged somber glances.         �Think he�ll do that?� T. J. asked.         Luca was quiet for a moment, then nodded, slowly.  �Maybe.  You can tell by his voice that he�s as high as the other one is.  We have to assume he�s capable of anything.�         �If you got no more to say, I suggest you back off and see about getting our friends out of jail!� Michael demanded.         Hondo muttered to himself, �I�ve got more to say to you, you little punk.�  Raising his voice to be heard, he said, �Listen to me, Michael. The school is completely surrounded.  There is no way you can get out of here.  It would be better to surrender now.�         �We can last a long time in here!� Michael retorted.  �We have plenty of food!�         �It won�t last long, with so many people in there.  You also have to sleep sometimes.�         �Just don�t you worry about us!� Michael told him.  �We know what we�re doing!�         �If only that were true,� Luca said, quietly, to himself.         �Now, back off!� Michael demanded.         Hondo glanced at Luca, who nodded.  �Better do what he says, for now,� Luca advised.  �He�s a time-bomb waiting to go off.�         Hondo nodded affirmatively.  �I agree.�  To the teenagers, he said, �All right, we�re backing off for now.�  He gestured back the way they had come, and the five police officers retreated back down the corridors toward the lobby.         Ames was waiting for them, pacing nervously while O'Bannon leaned against the wall.  Ames stopped and looked up anxiously when he saw them come around the corner.  �So, what�s the plan?�         �We�re not sure, yet,� Hondo answered, truthfully.         �What do you mean, you don�t know?� Ames asked, shocked.  �I thought you SWAT guys were supposed to be so good!�         �We are good, Mr. Ames,� Hondo told him, his annoyance beginning to show.  �But we can�t go in there with guns blazing and risk injuring or killing the hostages.  We must come up with a plan that enables us to resolve this as peacefully as possible.�         T. J. was listening to the conversation, but, as was typical among the SWAT officers assigned the task of sharpshooter, his eyes shifted from one point to another, always seeking the best advantage point from which to work.  His eyes came to rest on a grill that covered an air duct near the floor.         �Do these air ducts lead into all the rooms?� he asked.         Ames looked at him, surprised.  �Why, yes.  We just had a new system of ducts installed during summer break.�         �What are you thinking, McCabe?� Hondo asked.         �If we can get through those air ducts into the auditorium, it�ll put us across the hall from the cafeteria.  From there, we should be able to neutralize the one patrolling the corridors.  That�ll get us into a good position to show the others the firepower they�re coming up against.  Maybe they�ll surrender peacefully when they see they�re out manned and outgunned.�         �Maybe,� Hondo said, doubtfully.  �If they are all as high as their leader seems to be, I don�t that they�ll be able to respond in a rational manner.  At least it�ll get us into a position where we can end this stand-off.  That�s a good idea, McCabe.  Mr. Ames, do you have a schematic of the network of ducts?�         �Yes.  It�s in the utility closet.  I�ll go get it.�         While the principal went to the utility closet to fetch the schematic, Hondo withdrew a small screwdriver from his utility belt and used it to remove the screws in the grill, which was set aside.  Then, the five police officers leaned over and inspected the small square opening with critical eyes, each one instantly realizing the problem they faced.         Deacon squatted down and placed his hands on either side of the opening, as if measuring the width in his mind.  All the while, he was shaking his head.  �I don�t know, Hondo.  That is awfully small.  I don�t think we�re going to be able to get through there.�         �I was thinking the same thing.,� Hondo said, regretfully.  �It was a good idea, McCabe, but I don�t think it�s going to work.�         �You would�ve thought a school would have a bigger ventilation system,� T. J. commented.         �It�s a small school,� O'Bannon pointed out, then added, �Or at least, it started out that way."         They fell silent for several moments, observing the air duct as if it held the utmost interest, while their minds searched for an alternative plan.         �I can only think of one way to end this,� Deacon said, reluctantly.  �That is to storm the corridor and apprehend the guard, and proceed as quickly as possible to the cafeteria.  That way, we maintain the element of surprise.  Luca can shoot a cannister of tear gas through one of those windows, and in the confusion we might be able to overcome them before they have a chance to harm the hostages.�         Luca was shaking his head in disagreement.  "I remember how the cafeteria windows open up in my own school.  They tilt at an angle, and my cannister is likely to bounce off the edge and fall back without going in.  And if they hear it, they'll know something's going on and we will lose the element of surprise.  Perhaps I could get up on the roof and simply drop the cannister inside."         Here, O'Bannon objected, "The gap between the window and the roof is too great.  You wouldn't be able to reach that far."         �Our best bet seems to be to wait them out and try to talk to them again," Hondo said.  "They�ve trapped themselves.  Eventually, they must realize there�s no way out.�         Luca was looking at the air duct, aware that the others could not get through it safely, but as the team�s smallest member, he wondered about himself.  T. J. was nearest his height than the others, but Luca was slimmer.  �I can get through it.�         Everyone turned to look at the youngest and smallest member of the team.  He saw doubt on their faces.         �I know, it�ll be a tight squeeze, even for me, but I can do it,� he insisted.  When Hondo continued to hesitate, he persisted, �Look, it�s the only way we can get back there without being detected.  You said yourself, the element of surprise is the only way to assure that those kids can be rescued with the lowest risk of loss of life.�         Hondo could not deny his own logic, but he was not happy about the idea of sending a single man into the auditorium alone without any backup.  �We don�t know how many of them there are.  They could have even moved the students out of the cafeteria and into the auditorium or even the gymnasium.  We just don�t know.�         �I�ll take a look around through the grill before I leave the duct.  If anyone is in there, I�ll find another exit.�         Hondo looked at the young officer who stood before him, awaiting his approval.  He saw neither reckless fervor nor glory-seeking enthusiasm in the dark eyes that gazed solemnly back at him.  What he saw was a highly trained police officer volunteering for a potentially dangerous job.         He let his eyes shift to each man in turn.  All of them were watching him, waiting for his decision.  Even though all of them except himself and Deacon were in their twenties, all were seasoned veterans of police work.  All of them were dedicated and capable of accomplishing the task, but in this particular instance, it appeared that only Luca was capable of actually getting there.         The principal hurried into the room with a rolled up schematic tucked under his arm.  Quickly, he popped the rubber band and unrolled it, then spread it open against the wall near the duct.  O�Bannon held the other end of it to prevent it from slipping, while the others crowded around to look at it.         �We�re here,� Ames said, pointing to the spot on the chart.  �Once inside the duct, what you�ll need to do is follow this duct along to your right until you reach this junction.�  He traced his finger along the chart, following the outline of the duct.  �Be careful.  The duct has a vertical intersection that leads down into the basement.�         �Is it a straight drop?� Dom asked.         �No.  The architect drew up these plans with the idea that maintenance crews might have to enter the duct for one reason or another, so they placed them on a slope.�         �A maintenance crew of what?  First graders?� T. J. asked, a gibe referring to the narrow scope of the duct, drawing chuckles from his teammates and a tolerant smile from the assistant principal.          Ames stared at him with the eyes of man who found no humor in the comment.  �How can you joke around about something like this?� he asked.         �Mr. Ames, there is a difference between joking around and relieving tension,� Deacon replied.  �These men put their lives on the line every time they put on that uniform.  Cut them some slack.�         Ames backed down.  �All right.  Go across the basement intersection, and continue on until you reach the next junction.  There, you�ll turn left, and follow it to the next junction.  There, you�ll turn left and continue on for about twenty feet.  The duct runs under the stage, and the grill into the auditorium will be on your left.�         Luca carefully studied the schematic, noticing that the duct continued on past the auditorium opening, finally terminating in a corridor beyond.  If the auditorium was occupied, he could make his exit into the corridor, provided another guard wasn�t posted there.         He turned to his supervisor.  �So, what do you say, Lieutenant?�         Finally, Hondo nodded his consent.  �All right, Luca.  But be careful.  Once you�re in the auditorium, take a look around and see if you can locate the guard.  You should be behind him.  Report back to me before you do anything.�         �Yes, sir.�         �I always knew he�d be good for something,� T. J. quipped.  �I just wasn�t sure what!�         �Ha ha, very funny,� Luca bore up to the teasing with a tolerant smile.         Still a bit mystified by the officers� ability to banter back and forth during such a serious crisis, the principal presented Luca with a pry bar he had secured from the utilities closet.  �You�ll need this to pry the grill off the duct.�  He sighed, heavily, knowing that he would be required to explain the damage of the ventilation grill and any other damage that might be caused by the officer as he made his way through the ducts.  �The school board won�t be happy about ruining the grill so quickly after they were replaced during the summer, but I�m sure they�ll understand the need to resolve this issue as quickly as possible.�         Luca accepted the pry bar, and knelt before the open duct.  He paused to look into the narrow black tunnel, then gave an exaggerated shudder.  �Whew, that is small!�  Looking up at the others, he said, cheerfully, �Well, I guess I�ll see you on the other side.�         He started to enter the duct, inserting his arms and his head into the dark tunnel, but his bulletproof vest caught the top edge of the duct.  Shifting position, he made another attempt but encountered the same problem on the bottom edge.         He withdrew and sat back on his heels to look up at Harrelson.  �The only way I can get through here is to take off the vest,� he said.         �No,� Hondo replied without hesitation.  �Absolutely not.  That vest is the only protection you have.  You leave that on!�         �I guess that settles it,� Deacon said, giving up on the idea.  �It was a good idea, T. J., but it looks like it won�t work.�         T. J. nodded.         �We�ll just have to try something else.�         �We can�t just give up on this!� Luca protested.  �It was a great idea.�         �If you can�t get through, Luca, you can�t get through,� Hondo said, impatiently.  �It�s as simple as that.  There is nothing to be done about it except to put our heads together and try to find another way.�         �What if he carried the vest with him?� Street suggested.  �He could put it back on when he gets there.�         �His hands are already going to be full with the rifle and the pry bar,� Deacon pointed out.  �I don�t think he can carry anything else and still manage to pull himself through the tunnel.�         T. J. suggested, �What if he carried the vest and tied the rifle to his ankle by the straps and dragged it behind him?�         Luca gave him a withering glance, indicating a distinct lack of enthusiasm at the thought of dragging a loaded weapon through a dark tunnel behind him.  �And what happens if it accidentally goes off, eh?  It�d get me in the rear -- or worse!�           �Not to mention the fact that it would alert the gang members of your location,� Hondo said.  �Then you�d really have a problem!�         �Maybe I can just sort of push the vest through the tunnel ahead of me.�         Hondo was quiet for a moment, considering the idea, but still reluctant to risk the life of one of his men.  �Maybe.�         �I can put it back on when I get out of the tunnel.  Come on, Lieutenant,� Luca urged.  �It�s the only way to get a handle on what�s going on back there.�         Hondo knew that was true.  Negotiations could last hours or even days.  With plenty of food in the cafeteria�s kitchen, there was no need for the teenaged gunmen to rush into surrendering.  They had plenty of breathing room to reinforce their demands.  Finally, seeing no other way for him to get through the tunnel and end the hostage situation, he nodded his consent.  �All right, but the instant you�re out of the duct, that vest goes back on before you do anything else.  Understand?�         �Yes, sir.         Luca propped the pry bar and the rifle against the wall, and stood up again.  Quickly, he removed the vest, and temporarily laid it aside while he removed his shoulder holster and the pistol it held, and handed them to Street.         �Okay, Luca?� Hondo said, drawing the rapt attention of the younger officer.  �Let us know when you get to the auditorium, then check on the kid who�s patrolling the corridor.�         �Yes, sir.�  He started to turn away, but was stopped by Hondo�s hand on his shoulder.         �Do not engage those gunmen until we get up and in position.  Understand?�         �I understand.�         �And remember, you won�t be able to turn around in that tunnel, so make absolutely certain that you are familiar with each and every junction on that schematic.�         Luca went to the schematic again and took another long look at it, committing his route to memory.  Finally, he nodded.  �I could find it with my eyes closed.�         �You won�t need to go in the dark,� O�Bannon said, stepping out of the administrative officers.  No one had noticed that he had slipped away.  He carried a flashlight, which he offered to the officer.  �This will help.�         Luca took the flashlight and tested it by turning it on.  Satisfied that it worked, he returned to the opening and knelt before it.  Taking up the pry bar in one hand and the rifle in the other, he crawled into the opening.                                                Go to Chapter 3