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!