Free Hostage Zero by John Gilstrap Page B

Commonwealth of Virginia had jointly decided that there was a certain dimness between Granville’s ears.
    Granville gestured to them both. “You two met before?”
    “Actually, no,” said Sergeant Wilson. And judging from her tone, this was a good thing.
    “Then how do you know he’s really with the FBI?”
    Meyer puffed up like an indignant fish.
    “His credentials, right?” Granville answered for her. “I mean you didn’t do a quick background check or take any fingerprints? It was the attitude, the badge, and the gun, right? Same with me.”
    Sergeant Wilson smiled as she got the point. Special Agent Meyer did not. “Let’s move on,” she said.
    “No, let’s not move on,” Granville said. He struggled to keep his tone even, but the more he spoke, the more difficult that became. “Let’s stay right where we are until we all embrace the fact that I am not an idiot. In fact, let’s all agree that I am not only a victim, but in many ways the primary victim of what went down here.”
    Sheriff Willow took a step forward.
    “Save it, Sheriff. I understand that this is embarrassing to the department. Christ, of all the people in the room right now, I understand that better than anyone.”
    “You’re getting defensive,” Meyer said with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand.
    Granville shot to his feet, toppling his chair with his knees. “Defensive, my ass. Shall we talk about what really happened here tonight?”
    “What we’ve been trying to do since we got here,” Sergeant Wilson said.
    “Bullshit. Y’all have been trying to dig a bunker for yourselves with a door that’s too small to let me in.” As he felt the color rising in his cheeks, he knew that his dreams of getting away from the desk were done, but he didn’t give a shit anymore. “What actually happened here is a very carefully planned and brilliantly executed prison break.”
    “That better not be admiration I hear in your tone, Deputy,” Willow said.
    Granville glared. “Jesus Christ, Sheriff, open your eyes. ‘Admiration’ might not be exactly the right word, but I gotta tell you it’s close. It was a flawless plan.” He turned on Agent Meyer. “And why would you doubt that a team that was able to hijack our entire security system—and, in the process, erase every goddamn trace that they were ever here, despite the eyewitnesses—could figure out a way to forge a hunk of metal into a precious FBI badge, and some papers into convincing creds?”
    He paused. It was a real question, but Agent Meyer’s only answer was to make his ears turn red.
    Granville shifted his attention to his boss. “You know, Sheriff, as you struggle to find the right kind of message to send out to the voting public, you might want to mention the fact that thanks to me and all the other competent deputies you hired, we came this close to stopping them, and we limited what could have been a mass breakout to only one.”
    Sheriff Willow prepared to be angry, but then the words got through, and he backed off.
    Granville lowered his voice as he closed the deal. “What I saw happen tonight was nothing short of heroic. One deputy was overpowered and severely beaten, and then the rest of the team risked their lives to keep everything from going to hell.”
    He turned to Meyer. “I’m guessing that your guy has some damned important friends, and they didn’t want him spending time with you. The kind of help he got doesn’t come cheap.”
    “But he’s nobody,” Sergeant Wilson said. “Jimmy Henry is a small-time crook, in and out of the system two or three times, but no known ties to anyone important. No known ties to anyone at all.”
    Just like that, Granville saw that he’d earned his way inside the circle. She was speaking to him, not at him. “He was accused of shooting up that school yesterday, right?” he asked. He knew the answer, so he kept going. “Maybe it was just a vigilante thing. People broke him out to string him up.”
    “For