Chapter Sixteen
The Encounter
It was about an hour later when he saw the individual they were protecting, saw him so close that they looked eye to eye and exchanged smiles. Then the man limped by him and into the library.
Now Nathaniel intensified his observation and none too soon. Barely moments later he saw his quarry making his way up the street in amongst a group of high school students heading for the library to do research. Nathaniel spoke aloud so the transmitter he was wearing picked it up.
"Number one position. I've got our suspect. He's headed into the library; blue jeans, local high school jacket, and cap, blue backpack with a rolled newspaper sticking out of it, most likely concealing the weapon. I'm moving in. All units tighten the net!"
Nathaniel pushed his way through the crowd and cut off his quarry.
"'Scuse me, young man!" he called, "I'm doing a survey for the Hartford Times about the feelings of young people today. Can you give me a couple of minutes to answer some questions?"
The suspect looked nervous. "No," he said, "no. I'm busy. Don't bother me."
He pushed passed Nathaniel and went through the library entrance, Nathaniel followed. "Aw, come on!" Nathaniel cried, "Give me a break! You're just the type of young man I want to query. It'll just take a couple of minutes. Let people know what you think!"
"I'm really busy!" the young man snapped.
One of the high school kids nearby called out, "Hey, man, talk to the guy. How many times do we get a chance to tell people how we feel about stuff? I'll answer your questions, mister."
"Glad to have you, in a minute!" Nathaniel answered. "But I'd really like to get this young man, first."
The library security guard came down through the upper doors. "Excuse me!" he called out, "No soliciting allowed inside the library. Whatever you're doing take it outside."
One of Nathaniel's men cut him off. "Hey!" he snapped. "There's no need of acting like that! The man isn't doing any harm. Leave him alone!"
Nathaniel could tell the subject was getting nervous. He didn't like all the attention being drawn to him.
"Come on!" Nathaniel asked. "Step outside a minute. Be a good sport."
The young man finally shrugged. "O.k.!" he agreed.
Nathaniel breathed a sigh of relief when he got him back out on the sidewalk, out of the crowded narrow entranceway. He held out the clipboard.
"Here," he invited, "read through the questions, then I'll read 'em off again and note your answers."
The young man lifted the cover page, exposing the note Nathaniel had carefully written the night before. As his eyes began to widen Nathaniel's hand drifted to his gun. The note read,
'Sam, I'm a federal agent. Make no sudden moves. You are surrounded by men with orders to kill if you try to use the gas gun you're holding. Please, please read this entire message before you take any action.
The weapon you have is NOT loaded with cyanide to simulate a heart attack. It is loaded with a deadly nerve gas which, if you discharge, will kill dozens of innocent people which we cannot permit. Besides that, the gas cylinder is defective. It may rupture at any time. The one your brothers had killed them.
Your father is also dead, accidentally shot by your other brother with the needle gun. We only want to end this quietly and get you safely out of here. Please, please cooperate!'
The young man stared at the note for several moments after he'd finished reading it, then tears started trickling down his cheeks. "I tried to tell Poppa," he muttered, "I tried to tell him God would punish us, that what we were doing wasn't right. I'm scared, sir. What do I do?"
"Just stand still," Nathaniel ordered. He motioned to one of his men who rushed forward, slipped the backpack off the young man's back, and slid it into a large plastic bag which he sealed tight.
WIthout a word he rushed off to a waiting van, where backpack, plastic bag and all was put in a heavy cylinder, the top of which was closed and locked down. Only when the man appeared giving the o.k. sign could Nathaniel breathe easy. "Come along!" he ordered.
In moments they were around the corner, and the young suspect was being handcuffed and herded into another van. A few minutes later they were entering the rear of the local federal building. As they were emerging from their own vehicle an agent ran up from the other van.
"Mr. Green, sir!" he cried, "The specialist wanted me to tell you the cylinder just discharged. We cannot retrieve the weapon. It will have to be destroyed WITH the container."
Nathaniel swallowed. Convey my well dones," he ordered. "Come on, gentlemen!" he continued. "We've had a good day today, we've had a VERY good day today."
Those around him could only agree!