5. Friday January 12
Time: 8 AM
Friday morning is cold and windy but that's just about everyday in Omaha in January. Joe arrives at Pete's hotel and parks on the street about half a block away. He spots Pete sitting in a chair reading the newspaper in the lobby waiting for him.
As he approaches Pete he says, "Morning Pete. How'ya doin?"
Pete folds the paper, gets up and shakes hands with Joe saying, "Looks a little cold out there?"
"Oh nothing really, it's nearly minus ten. Kind'a warm, actually."
Pete laughs and says, "I kind'a wish I were in Florida right now."
"You and me both."
"Come'on, let's get some breakfast."
One side of the atrium lobby is a restaurant, surrounded by ficus trees with fairy lights and tropical plantings, somewhat out of place in a Nebraska winter but they thrive on the abundant light from the glassed ceiling nine stories above. At one end is a small fountain with water gurgling down rocky cascades into a pool with tropical fish surrounded by small flowers. The buffet area is immediately below Pete's ninth floor balcony so he gets the full effect of the aromas from each meal as they rise unobstructed through the open space above.
Joe drapes his coat over a chair at the table they've selected and he and Pete head for the buffet. They get plates and fill up on scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, gravy, biscuits and coffee then return for some side dishes of fruit and little tubs of butter and jam. They return to their secluded table in the corner.
Time: 9 AM
Mike knocks on David's door and he and Jay enter. David is at the table eating breakfast. Mike says, "Did you get anything from the Regency?"
"No. They didn't meet in Pete's room. We think Joe left his cell phone in his coat pocket which he hung over a chair. All we could pick up was room noise and some muffled voices. Sean was in the lobby watching. He tried to get a table close to them but it wasn't possible. They spoke for quite a while but we don't know what the new plan is. Later Joe made a phone call to a number in Sioux City to arrange for two guys to meet him at the warehouse around eleven but he didn't say much on the phone to them. My guess is that they're Tom and Bob's replacements."
"Did you try the Sloppy Creme trick?"
"Yep. Phone must have been on vibrate. He didn't answer it."
"Crap, so now what do we do?"
"Well, now we just wait and hope one of them uses a cell phone or speaks where we've got a microphone. My guess is that they'll probably try to do something like what they planned for last night."
"Where's the coffee?"
"Over there. And don't hog all the bacon, so to speak."
"Any idea about what the assault rifles are for?" asks Jay.
"Not a clue, I'm afraid. Lance is getting a bit worried about them as well."
"So am I," replies Jay. "Mikey gets very difficult when there are loud noises."
"Yeah, I guessed that. Anyway, not much we can do besides wait and watch and try to think of every contingency. They're coming and there's no way to stop them."
Time: 11 AM
By 11 am Joe is back at the warehouse where Mark and Sid are already waiting for him. Once in the office, Joe calls out on the paging system for Dan, Bill, Roger, and Nick to come to the office. These are the guys from the warehouse crew he's picked to do the top floor tonight. Two others, Steve and Harry, have just arrived from Sioux City. Joe takes them out into the warehouse leaving the others behind in his office. Here he explains the basics of what he wants done and negotiates their price. They agree and he returns to the office with them where the others are waiting.
"Let's go get some lunch guys. It's on me. I want to go over the plans. There's been a few changes and Steve and Harry will be taking Tom and Bob's place," says Joe as they get up and head for a diner up the street. Todd records this small bit of news from the mic attached to the window.
Once at the diner, they hang up their coats at a rack near the door and sit at a table apart from the others and order lunch. Joe's cell phone is still in his coat pocket, Mark and Sid's are in their pants pockets. The table again blocks their voices and all Todd can hear is muffled noise. He doubts the donut scam will work twice but tries it anyway. It doesn't. Mark puts his phone back in his pants pocket.
Todd conference calls with David, Lance, Mike, and Jay and gives the bad news, "Joe met with his people but they went to a diner up the street. I don't know what they said so we're still mainly flying blind."
David agrees but adds, "And we still no idea what the rifles are for?"
"None that I know of," answers Todd.
Lance interjects, "It could be just some extra fire power for the top floor and nothing more."
"Let's hope so," says Jay.
Time: 5 PM
It's Friday evening about 5 pm. While Mike, Jay, Tom and Bob carefully observe the security camera feeds from David's apartment on the big screen, Todd tracks the main door and outside cameras from his command console at the end of the bar. Lance is near the main entrance wearing his mic and headset.
Mike calls down to Todd, "How are things going? You see anything happening yet?"
"Oh, so far so good. About normal for a Friday," answers Todd.
"I guess we won't see anything until the smoke bombs at 10 o'clock if they stick to their original plan."
"One way or the other, they'll be here. Your Pete's under the gun, he can't afford anymore delays and he thinks he's got the element of surprise. Jack's not gonna appreciate why it is he couldn't knock over a freakin dance club, for chrissake."
"Yeah, you're right," says Mike.
As the crowd builds for the night, David and the others watch closely. The camera angles displaying on the monitors switch quickly from one view to another, making the rounds of the club. David is out on the balcony, looking down at the crowd.
Security is high. At the main door, metal detectors probe each patron with electric fields seeking the telltale magnetic eddies of unseen metal objects. Meters and LED's on the security desk flicker. If they detect anything, one of the security guys does a quick pat down.
The two main entrance security guards are armed and a third is not far away. ID's of those not recognized as regulars are swiped through the card reader while everyone is photoed by security cameras.
Then Sid is spotted as he enters the main door at about 9:30.
Todd keys a call to all headsets, "Party time, people, Sid's here and Mark is soon to follow. I guess it's a GO for tonight."
"Roger that," come replies from several.
Mark enters a few minutes later. To a casual observer, they look okay, just ordinary guys, mid 20's, not together, not packing any weapons, ID's look fine. Just normal guys back for another night at the club.
David returns and Mike points out that their guests have arrived. They watch as Mark and Sid separately cruise around the club, buy drinks, eat snacks, chat with the crowd, and appear to get progressively buzzed.
Lance pages all from his headset, "We just went through their coats. They brought the smoke bombs and some small bottles of gasoline. Looks like the same plan. I swapped the smoke bombs and replaced the gasoline with kerosene and olive oil. It won't do much now. It might not even light."
"Olive oil?" Mike whispers to Jay.
Time: 10 PM
As it nears ten o'clock, Mark and Sid wander back towards the coat room.
Lance keys his mic for all to hear and says, "Hey guys. Sid and Mark are getting ready to make their move. Keep an eye on them. Let's play this cool. Stay on the perimeter until it's time. You guys got your trash barrels ready?"
"Roger that," comes from several unseen voices.
Mike say, "Look! They both have their cell phones out, it's a conference call, I'll bet."
"Yeah, it is, I'm intercepting Mark's signal and getting the audio feed as well. They're coordinating with the guys outside, about seven altogether, from what I can tell. They're confirming that everything's ready. They're saying that the
re'll be one more call to trigger the event," reports Todd from his console at the bar.
Mike goes in for very tight shots of their faces.
"Can you get a shot of that van we spotted down the street?" says David.
Jay brings up a window and closes in on the front of the van. Sure enough, the driver is on his cell phone.
"Can you see that, Lance?"
"Yep. I guess the show is about to start. The guys coming for the elevator shaft must be in that van. Look, the van's starting to move now. Okay, I'm getting into position," says Lance.
They watch as Mark and Sid fold their cell phones shut. They slip into the coat room and emerge a few seconds later with their coats on. Sid unobtrusively but quickly makes his way towards the northeast end of the dance floor near the emergency exit. Mark moves towards the elevator room door. Sid, now on the other side of the club, pauses and fumbles with a cigarette, looking harmless, he staggers a bit to deflect attention.
They all watch Sid as he reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out what appears to be a cigarette pack but it's really filled with tightly packed fire crackers. He opens one end of the pack and extends a short fuse. Out of his pocket Sid takes his small butane lighter along with a smoke bomb.
Mark's phone vibrates quietly, Sid's does too. Todd says to all, "Incoming."
The phone call is the cue that everyone is in place. Sid looks around to see who's looking, the security cameras are, Todd is, David, Lance, Mike and a host of others are, but he doesn't know that. He lights the fuse on the fireworks and hurls the lit pack into the crowd of couples near the center of the dance floor. As the first of them goes off, all attention in the club turns to the explosions at the center of the floor. People begin to scream and scatter.
Sid quickly lights the fuses and rolls several smoke bombs in different directions about the dance floor. Then he opens the one of small bottles, pulls out the cork and lights a tiny wick. He smashes it hard onto the floor in the direction of smoke bombs. He quickly does the same with a second bottle. They burst into flames that splay out widely across the floor. People start screaming and panicking and running for the exits.
"Well, here we go guys," shouts David into his mic.
The fireworks exploding in rapid succession, the smoke billowing, the glaze of flames burning across the floor, and the crowd screaming, pushing, tripping and falling over one another create a scene of general panic. There is a roar of shouting and screaming, beer bottles and glasses crashing to the floor. Mylar flakes catch fire and embers rise. The smoke becomes thick. Now there is total panic. From all around the crowded floor, people scream, "Fire!" Todd cuts the sound system.
"And, presto, now the emergency doors open," Mike observes dryly from the balcony high above.
People dash for the fire exits remembering too many cases of club fires, like the one in Rhode Island. Door alarms from around the club begin to shriek and this only makes the panic worse.
Lance's guys, however, are quickly on the spot with the barrels. They cover the smoke bombs which are beginning to fizzle anyway. The fires were minimal and easily quenched with CO2.
Todd is immediately on the loudspeaker system saying, "Everything is okay, people. It was just fireworks and some smoke bombs."
But the panic continues and few people hear him over the screaming and alarms.
On the north side of the club, Sid rushed the northeast emergency exit door as soon as he finished setting off the second fire bomb. Its alarm sounds but all eyes are elsewhere and one more alarm does not attract any attention under the circumstances, he assumes.
A few people rush out the northeast door with him but most of those fleeing go, instinctively, for the door they entered through. Thus, the main entrance is overwhelmed with the crush of screaming, coughing, gagging people desperately trying to get out.
Harry and Steve rush in through the open exit door while the firecrackers are still exploding. Dressed in heavy coats and ski masks, they carry the assault rifles. They jump up onto the unlit stage and theatrically spread out, legs apart, guns raised. They are totally unnoticed in the fog of smoke and general confusion. Each of them has carefully stuffed four pop bottle Molotovs in their parkas, two to the pocket. Both are seriously tweaked on crystal and irrationally fearless. They look at one another and shrug their shoulders wondering why no one notices them. They wait a few moments.
As the fireworks quickly sputter out and the smoke bombs are quelled, the alarms begin to time out one by one and the noise level recedes. After the ear shattering racket of a few moments ago, relative silence obtains. The air is thick with smoke. General sounds of moaning and "Oh shit, who the fuck did that? Hey man, were you scared?"
A quick but thunderous volley of gunfire shatters the calm and whips everyone's stunned scrutiny to the dimly lit figures on the stage. All is suddenly silent again, except for an occasional gasp, a whisper and the sound of crushed glass underfoot. All eyes are now on the stage.
On the other side of the club, in the confusion, Mark has slipped into the elevator room. He immediately slides the locking bolt into place in case someone saw him enter and tries to follow. Next he turns to the loading dock door and pulls the restraining bolt and slides it quickly open.
Four guys rush in. One hands Mark a gun. As they hear the muffled sounds of Harry and Steve letting loose with their fusillades, the four assassins, each brandishing semi-automatic rifles, leap onto the freight elevator, pull down the gate and hit the button for the top floor. The elevator comes to life and begins rumbling up through darkened shaft. Mark waits by the loading dock door.
A monitor shows the security camera view of the first floor elevator room. As the four gunmen enter, Lance says, "They'll be up here in a few seconds, guys."
Mike and David from the balcony high above watch Harry and Steve on stage.
Mike says, "Okay, now what? What the hell are those guys doing?"
"Must be Pete's idea for a diversion, I guess. The smoke bombs were never going to be enough."
"Well, are we gonna let them shoot people?"
"No, they're the side show. Their job is to attract attention."
"Well, they've done that. But what if they do start shooting people?"
"We shoot back. But first we bag the guys coming up the elevator. Believe me, man, Todd's got the place totally covered. I just hope they don't break any of the skylights. They'd be a bitch to fix this time of year," says David as he turns back to the elevator shaft.
Mike rolls his eyes, looks at him and says, "Geeez, I wish I were so damned confident with a bunch of guys with guns running loose in my house."
However, Mike turns and looks over the balcony at the console where he sees Todd calmly observing the guys on stage, one hand on his mouse, the other on his keyboard. Mike wonders what he's up to.
Harry and Steve, having finally gathered the undivided attention of everyone on the floor, begin to execute the robbery part of the plan. Harry picks one of the guys in the crowd and tosses him a bag and tells him to take it to the bar and have it filled with cash. In the meantime, he and Steve continue to menace the crowd with their guns and joke about how they'll shoot the place up as they take their leave.
The kid designated to gather the cash nervously picks up the bag and goes to the bar. There, one of the bartenders opens the cash drawers and starts emptying the contents into the sack.
After letting Harry and Steve in, Sid jogs around to the street across from the old loading dock where the waiting van driver hands him a pistol. He then returns to cover Harry and Steve's getaway.
As the elevator passes the halfway point between the fourth and fifth floor, the motor suddenly quits and the emergency brakes clamp the cage to a shuddering halt. The guys are caught off balance and one falls to the coarse wooden floor. A dazzling array of halogen flood lamps bursts from the landing above. The would-be killers are now blinded and trapped in the cage between the floors.
Lance's loud voice booms from above s
aying, "Put your guns at the back of the elevator and step forward with your hands behind your heads. One false move and we'll blow your fucking brains out."
In the bright light above, they see the convincing reflections of many gun barrels aimed their way. David, Mike, Lance and Lance's security guys including Tom and Bob are on the landing above looking dispassionately down into the cage with the four trapped assassins.
One of the would-be killers mutters, looking up and shading his eyes from the floodlights, "Oh shit." This succinctly summarizes the thoughts of each.
"Like shooting fish in a barrel," Lance laughs to the others who chuckle agreement.
Looking down, he says, "What's it gonna be boys? Drop the hardware or we start shooting your arms off. I am not a patient man."
"Welcome to Nine-West," jokes Mike in an aside to David who winces.
Mark hears what's happening above. He quickly ducks through the loading dock door and runs fast around to warn Sid that there's been a problem. Outside, a milling, panicked, freezing throng pays him no attention as they are more interested in the scene inside the club being conveyed by cell phone text messages.
Finding Sid lurking in the shadows outside the emergency exit, Mark urgently says, "Come on, man, let's get out'a here. It was an ambush. They were waiting for us."
They hurriedly walk away from the club to their car trying not to attract any attention.
In the elevator, Joe's guys look to one another, mutter epithets in their frustration, and begin tossing their guns to the back of the cage then stepping forward with their hands clasped behind their heads.
When the last of the guns is dropped, the elevator resumes its ascension until it stops at the fifth floor. One of the security guards pulls open the cage. The would-be killers look at one another and at the muzzles of the array of weaponry pointed in their direction and abandon any ideas of escape.
One of the guards enters the elevator and gathers up the discarded arsenal while others fasten the captives' hands behind their backs with nylon cable ties.
David taps Mike on the shoulder and gestures back towards the balcony where they both return to watch the events below.
Mike's assassins are lined up along one side of the elevator. Lance has his men strip search the would-be killers who are quickly reduced to their shoes and shorts. While it hasn't been decided where to dump them, he figures where ever they end up, it will be more embarrassing to Pete and Joe when they're discovered. When finished, Lance hits the ground floor button and the would-be killers and their captors descend.
Outside, one of David's vans backs to the loading dock. Joe's van driver, however, watches from across the street. He turns to the two guys with military grenades who were about to begin bombing cars in the lot and says, "Better wait. Something's going on over there. Why is that van backing up to the loading dock? I don't like the looks of this."
One of the others replies, "Yeah, I think it might be a good idea to wait. This wasn't in the script."
Across the street, a club security guard hops out and opens the back doors of the van. Suddenly, from the loading dock the would-be killers are pushed unceremoniously out and into the back of David's windowless white van. Its rear doors are slammed shut, and bolted. Several of Lance's men get in the van and it speeds off. One of the security guards stays behind and returns to the elevator room. He slides the door back in place and re-bolts it then unbolts the door to the club. Carefully he checks there is no other evidence remaining of what has recently happened.
From across the street Joe's van driver is spooked and whispers to the others, "Holy crap! Did you see that? Some thing's gone real wrong. I'm calling Mark to see if he knows anything."
He frantically tries calling Mark and then Sid on their cell phones but gets no answer. "Hey guys, I think its time to abandon the mission."
"I think you're right," says one of the others as they quietly drive off.
About two blocks away, the van driver pulls over, flips open his cell phone and calls Joe. He tells him that the plan has failed.
Joe now tries to phone Mark and Sid but they don't answer. Instead he gets an all circuits busy recording thanks to Todd intercepting his call. He then calls Pete and tells him what he knows. Pete tells him to find out what he can, hangs up and switches on the TV to see if there's any coverage.
Joe pulls out a police scanner and slowly begins to get some details. He's sure the police and fire department have been called by now. Someone with a cell phone called 911 and said there was a fire. Then another call, shots fired. Police and fire department on the way. These he passes on to Pete in a series of quick phone calls.
Inside the club, the kid nervously rushes back to the stage area with the loot from the cash registers. Harry, not knowing anything's gone wrong and still not getting the signal to leave from the top floor, stalls and lets off another couple of rounds into the air.
Then he improvises, "Okay, all you guys, line up, one by one, and start emptying the cash in your wallets into the bag, now. You women step back to the bar."
The crowd complies. The guys line up, watching Harry and Steve apprehensively as they toss their cash into the growing bag.
David and Mike return to the balcony where Jay is also now watching the scene below. David texts to Todd that things are under control up top. Todd at his booth sees the text message, glances up to the balcony where David and Mike are, nods and silently begins tapping at his keyboard.
Suddenly, just as Todd is about to make his move, one of the guys in the line pulls out a small gun of his own and takes a shot first at Harry, then at Steve, but missing both times.
Time: 10:15 PM
Harry quickly returns the fire. Blood spatters, the kid screams, doubles up, and falls to the floor. Harry lets out a "Yaaahooo, man," and shoots about 20 more rounds up into the rafters. David, Mike and Jay duck although they are not in the line of fire. The crowd lets loose a wave of angry curses. The birds scatter in shock and flee to the safety of the beams and balconies above. One lands on David's shoulder as David cautiously stands up and looks down. Both he and the bird look angry.
Steve taunts, "Hey, anyone else want a little action?" They laugh and menace the crowd with their guns again. The poor bastard who got shot writhes on the floor. The crowd now seethes with hatred.
At Todd's command many waiting unseen devices around the club and in the lighting array suspended above the floor spring to life.
In a fraction of a second, small servo motors quietly move all the mirrors into alignment. All around the club, the lasers and spots from the light show swiftly converge on Harry and Steve guided to their targets by the two unseen computer controlled infra-red tracking beams which have followed them since they bounded on the stage.
As lights switch to green on his console, Todd swiftly types in the password and each laser energizes to full power. Todd clicks the Fire icon and his computer instantly sends the message to all the waiting devices around the club. As he does, Todd speaks into his wireless mic to David who's listening above, "They're toast."
The smoky air above the club erupts in eerie brilliant diffuse multi-colored beams as Todd's lasers erupt. In a flash, Harry and Steve's hands blister and sizzle as the shafts of light roast their skin. Todd hits another key and banks of relays in the sound and light assembly suspended over the dance floor shunt with a metallic thud.
Suddenly, all the Klieg lights blaze brilliantly delivering thousands of watts of intense white light in a blinding flash to the faces of the two on stage. Harry and Steve scream, drop their guns and bring their smoking hands quickly to their foreheads to shade them from the bright lights. The computers automatically command the lasers to follow and continue firing. Blinded and in agony, they lose their balance and fall to the floor, rolling and writhing from the painful burns on their hands. As they fall, Todd cuts the lasers and kills the Klieg lights.
The crowd of guys lined up to be stripped of their cash stands stunned for an insta
nt then rushes the stage. Cheered on by the women from behind, they begin to kick the crap out of the fallen gunmen. The pop bottle Molotovs in their pockets crash together and break under the booted assault.
A moment later a stray kick hits Steve's butane lighter in just the right way so as to produce a spark that ignites his gasoline soaked parka. The fire quickly spreads to Harry's coat which is likewise soaked in gasoline.
The crowd gasps and lurches back as the fire engulfs the two squirming, burning gunmen who desperately try to pull off their jackets. The crowd screams at the sight of the building pyre and growing odor of toasted flesh.
The security guys, caught off guard, take a few moments to regroup and then scramble about to find unused fire extinguishers. Then they rush to the stage. At last, they blast the flames with foam and clouds of CO2. The fires are quickly extinguished. Steve and Harry are too, due to a combination of incineration and too much crystal meth.
The crowd slowly calms down and mills about. Furious canaries sternly perched on the balconies and rafters above chatter angrily. The security guards disarm the remaining exit alarms and holler to the people outside to get in out of the cold. Many return through the exits out through which they only moments ago fled. Now they rush back in, not wanting to miss the excitement. Anyway, they figure, David always puts them up for the night if there's a real problem. As calm returns, a few brave birds descend to fetch nuts and mingle with the friendly crowd.
The wounded guy on the floor is the main concern now. He's quickly attended to by Mary and several women who are likewise nurses. They cut away his pants. They call for alcohol to clean the entry wound. Todd sends over a fresh bottle of his best 110 proof gin.
"Hey honey, this stuff's a hundred bucks a bottle," says Mary to the wounded guy.
"Well, don't spill it all. Save some for a little oral administration," he replies.
They apply pressure to the wound and the bleeding stops. Some cushions are brought from the side tables of the club and placed under his head. He's conscious and asks for a cigarette and a drink. Both requests are quickly satisfied.
Todd starts the motors on the skylights high above. As they open, a few huddled crows cackle and angrily fly off to another roost. Several of the emergency doors are propped wide open. As fresh air is drawn in and vented aloft, the smoke and stench begin to dissipate. The vapors of Steve and Harry's demise swiftly pass from the building and vanish into the cold, black, windy Nebraskan night.
David and Mike watch all of this from high above. Mike says, "So Todd had them covered with his tracking beams?"
"Yep, all of them, those two, Mark, Sid, all of them. Here, let me call him and find out exactly what happened. I'll put it on speaker phone." David phones Todd and says, "What happened? Mike and Jay are here and you're on speaker phone."
"I was getting ready to take out their guns when that idiot kid fired at them."
"How the hell did he get a gun in here?"
"I think he must have come back in through one of the emergency doors that was open. He didn't come through the main entrance, I know that. Wanted to be a hero, or something. Probably ran to his car and got his gun."
"Any idea how the fire started?"
"Not completely, the lasers couldn't have done it. They switched off when the Kliegs came on. It must have been something else. I'm thinking that it was a lighter in the pocket of the guy on the left. That's where it seemed to start. They had gasoline fire bombs in their pockets, from the smell of it."
Mike leans over and speaks into the phone, "How come you didn't take them out earlier?"
"The smoke bombs. Too much residual smoke in the air between the lasers and the stage. It would have scattered the beams. If they hadn't shot that kid, I would have waited even longer. I wasn't sure it would work when I did it. As it was, I had to really crank up the power output to punch through the haze. I'm sorry about the fire but that was a fluke."
"The fire wasn't your fault. It was their show. I'm not gonna lose any sleep over it."
"Me neither."
"But you better get some food ready and put a lot of coffee on, no doubt the police will be here in a minute and I think it's gonna be a long night."
"Did everything go okay up there?"
"Yep, no problem. Our guests are being driven over to the old garage as we speak."
"Good, catch you later."
"I guess we better get ready for the police. Let me do the talking. You and Jay get back to your rooms. If anyone asks, you were in bed when you heard the gunshots and it was all over by the time you got out here to take a look. That clear?"
"Yep, works for me. Okay honey, let's go roll around on the sheets and make it look convincing," says Mike.
"Couldn't we just say we were watching TV?" says Jay with a pained expression.
David calls Lance on his cell phone to check on their captives. Everything is fine.
Time: 10:30 PM
As David's van drives away, it is unnoticed by the many police and emergency vehicles speeding towards the club. Multiple police cars, fire trucks and ambulances arrive all at once in a blaze of sirens and flashing lights. The streets around the club are all flashing in red, blue and yellow emergency strobe lights. Together with the exhaust from the many cars and trucks, the street is a multi-colored swirling fog
David greets the police at the door and quickly explains what happened and points to the bodies on the stage. Todd leads the paramedics to the wounded kid. The police ask everyone to remain so they can get names addresses and statements.
The murmuring crowd mills about watching intently over the crime scene. David has the bartenders set out pots of hot coffee, sandwiches and pizza slices. He figures that they will be there quite some time. A police detective brings in a bull horn and asks everyone to remain in the club. The crowd settles in for a late night adventure.
The emergency paramedics take over from the volunteer nurses. Other paramedics rush to the two on the stage. The guy on the dance floor is conscious and complaining, the two on the stage are lifeless and uncomplaining.
The paramedics quickly determine that the guy on the dance floor is not that badly off. The bullet hit a fleshy part of the leg and missed the femoral artery and the groin. He should be back dancing in a couple of weeks. They quickly apply compression to the gun shot wound. A gurney is wheeled in, lowered and he's shifted onto it and strapped in place. An IV bottle is suspended from a rod and hook assembly that is snapped into place. An oxygen mask is placed over his face and the valve on the small green tank on the side is engaged. The side rails are raised and the entire stretcher is lifted on its X frame and locked into place. The wheel breaks unlocked, he's rushed towards the door and a waiting ambulance. He raises his left arm and gives a thumbs-up sign to the crowd which breaks into applause and cheering. After he's taken from the building, the crowd sounds much more upbeat and turns its attention towards the burnt carnage on the stage.
There, however, the situation is different. Harry and Steve are seriously dead. The paramedics grimace as they look for signs of life on their pummeled, charred corpses. Finding none, they call over the chief detective and report their findings or lack thereof. The chief detective calls over an evidence team that photographs the scene from every angle and makes the obligatory chalk outlines around the bodies.
The two corpses look more like tenderized puppy-chow than people. After several minutes of this and a quick look-see by the coroner who's just arrived, the chief detective signals to the paramedics waiting across the room. They return to the stage with two gurneys and two body bags. They unfold the bags on the floor and shift a corpse onto each then zip the fronts closed. They heave the lifeless sacks onto the gurneys, strap them in and haul their barbecued remains off to the morgue for an autopsy.
In the meantime, the police have set up several tables and are taking names, addresses and telephone numbers from the patrons. ID's are checked and each is given a form and envelope with a list of standar
d questions. Each is asked if they saw anything that might not have been noticed by others. Some say yes and are sent to different tables where more detailed statements are taken. All are told that they may be contacted for further information. One by one, or in pairs or small groups, they leave the club, chattering about the excitement. After about an hour, it's just down to the police and the staff. The police interview the staff, give them the same form and ask if they saw anything out of the ordinary in the lead up to the incident.
David walks over to the table with the chief detective and hands over VCR copies of the digital surveillance files. He has omitted those segments that show the kidnappers entering the club and the detailed, close in scans of Mark and Sid. Instead, only fuzzy, smoke blurred long shots are provided.
As for Harry and Steve, David knows the police will eventually get a make from their fingerprints and then their mug shots will be on the news. David tells the chief detective that he believes Harry and Steve had been there before and thrown out for dealing drugs. David says they were able to identify Harry and Steve from voice prints from the previous episode but that he doesn't know their names. He has the surveillance tape of that event included as well. The chief detective is impressed. David explains that it's a fully computerized system.
David has one of the guys bring a small 13 inch TV with built in VCR to the table with the chief detective. He switches it on and inserts the video tape. They watch the events of earlier in the evening.
David pops the tape out of the VCR, puts it back in its case and hands it to the chief detective saying, "Any theories, other than the obvious?"
The chief detective takes the tape and says, "Hmmm, too early to make a conclusive determination but, duh? Robbery? Probably some element of payback involved. You do a big cash business, I gather?"
David nods and says, "Quite a lot of cash on a Friday night."
"From that tape, it appears they may have been high on alcohol or drugs, autopsy will say for sure. It may have been a spur of the moment scheme on their part to get even for before. As to the accomplices who set off the smoke bombs, it wouldn't have been too hard to get some crystal freaks to do that. They'd do just about anything for a hit."
David nods in agreement.
"Anyway, at this point, it's hard to tell. With these two dead and the ones who started the distraction gone, we probably won't be able to identify the accomplices unless we can ID them from these tapes, or someone in the crowd knew them. We don't have much to go on. As to the corpses, the morgue should be able to get a make on them from finger prints, they weren't carrying any ID that we could find. Knowing who they are will be a big help. I'll keep you posted. I'm glad none of the crowd was seriously hurt, this could have been a way lot worse. As for the dead meat on the stage, just saves the state the trouble of frying them further down the road. Serves'em right for carrying pop bottles full of gasoline. What, so they were gonna fire bomb the crowd? Geeez. Their call, their problem. By the way, I liked the laser show your people did on those meatball's hands."
"Nothing like state of the art equipment."
"Sweet. It will be a big hit at headquarters."
David says, "I think we'll replay it a few times here, too. Anyway, let me know if there's anything I can do. I don't like people shooting up my club. Right now, however, I think we better deal with that mob of TV people outside. Will you be making a statement?"
"Yeah, I'll give them a quick summary then turn it over to you," says the chief detective, shaking David's hand.
It's now about one in the morning and the police have finished, packed up their cases and left the building. The chief detective and David both head towards the main door. The chief detective puts on his heavy coat and one of the bartenders brings David his coat. They both leave the building to face a blaze of TV lights.
The chief detective begins, "Two gun men entered Mo Rún through an emergency exit and terrorized the patrons at gun point for the purpose of robbery. One patron, a white male, about 25 years of age, was shot. The gunmen were subsequently blinded by the club's lighting system which the general manager had cleverly re-aimed to point at them. In the ensuing aftermath, the crowd attacked the gunmen. The gunmen were carrying Molotov Cocktails in their pockets, apparently to fire bomb the club. The Molotovs accidentally ignited. The gunmen are now at the morgue pending autopsy. Two others remain at large, both white males between the ages of 25 and 30. One created a distraction while the other opened an emergency exit and allowed the gunmen to enter the club thus avoiding the main entrance which had metal detection equipment and security guards. The obvious motive was robbery. Further information will be available after the autopsy on the gunmen whose identity is unknown, at this time. Unfortunately, we have no usable photos of the deceased. The condition of the patron who was shot is reported to be good and he should make a full recovery. He was transported to Omaha General. His name will be released upon notification of his family. Thank you all, there will be no further information at this time. I'll turn you over the Mr. David Shea, the owner of Mo Rún."
The chief detective makes his way through the scrum of lights, mics and cameras, deflecting all questions. The mob quickly turns their attention to David who is now joined by Todd standing just behind him.
David looks around and nods to Todd then begins, "I and my staff deeply regret the incident that happened here tonight and we are cooperating fully with the Omaha Police Department. We have provided copies of all relevant security camera files and my staff has given statements as to what they saw. Unfortunately, we are completely baffled by what happened. We are grateful that the young man who was injured will recover fully and I am very proud of the quick thinking and skill of my general manager, Todd Schaffer," he nods towards Todd, "who was able to quickly re-program the entertainment lighting system so that it was possible to disable the gunmen. Personally, I have no regrets for the actions of the crowd and would have probably done the same were I in their position. I regret I have no further information and am looking forward to the outcome of the police investigation."
The reporters erupt in unintelligible, simultaneous questions, thrusting their microphones at David who says, "I'd like to introduce Dr. Todd Schaffer, the general manger, whose quick thinking probably saved many lives."
David turns towards Todd, beckoning him forward with a sweeping hand gesture and quietly saying so just Todd can hear, "Good luck, buddy. It's feeding time at the zoo."
Todd looks at him with a you're-gonna-pay-for-this look, smiles and moves to the microphones and begins, "Thank you David. As you all know, we take careful security precautions which includes careful ID checks and a pass through our state of the art metal detector. Unfortunately, as a public establishment, we're subject to the Coconut Grove rules about fire exits which must be fully accessible at all times. While ours are all alarmed, when the diversionary smoke bombs burst on the dance floor, even though harmless, it sent many patrons for these exits. With multiple alarms going off at once, this made it possible for the gunmen to enter the club. But our laser light show is also state of the art and I was able to reset the system to focus on the gunmen's hands and disable them. The crowd, having seen the young man gunned down, was incensed and rushed the gunmen. It was their own fire bombs that did them in. I also have no regrets that they left here in zipped body bags. That's about all I have to say. Thanks guys, it's late and we hope to be open tomorrow night. Sort of a victory party, as far as I'm concerned."
"Oh, one more thing, the video sequence from our surveillance cameras will be posted on our web site, https://www.omahadave.com"
He waves, David waves and, ignoring the shouted questions of the news feeding frenzy, they turn and reenter the club.
The videos they post take a few thousand hits in the first five minutes. They are on video sharing sites in ten. They are seen in St. Louis the following morning courtesy of cable news and entertainment networks.