Free 02 Avalanche Pass by John Flanagan Page B

pistol from a shoulder holster inside his parka.
    “Okay, now let’s all shut the fuck up!” he roared and the people dragged their eyes away from the threat of the gunsmoke drifting in the air and turned back to face him—disbelief mingled with confusion on their faces. Kormann waited, his eyes roaming the crowd, looking for the potential leaders, the potential fools, the potential troublemakers. So far, so good, he thought as none of them would meet his gaze. They were all cowed by the sudden turn of events.
    “Very well,” he began crisply. “My name is Kormann and I’m taking control of this hotel and its guests.” He felt Markus stir beside him, felt the other man’s eyes on him, widening in disbelief.
    “You’re mad,” the manager breathed. “You’ll never get away with it.”
    “Shut up,” Kormann told him quietly. Then he raised his voice again so that the rest of the room could hear him. “If you look around, you’ll see that you are surrounded by armed men.”
    Instinctively, most of the heads in the crowd turned, even though they had already seen that what he said was true. He continued.
    “None of them will hesitate to shoot if you cause the slightest trouble,” he said. “On the other hand, if you obey orders, if you do precisely what you’re told when you are told to do it, you will be completely safe.” He paused to let that sink in, then repeated it. “Completely safe. We have no wish to harm any of you and we’ll do our best not to. It’s up to you entirely. Is that clear?”
    He paused again, his eyes sweeping over them. There was a reluctant murmur of assent and agreement. They wanted to cling to the promise of safety. A few of them nodded fearfully. They were now subdued. It was time to give them hope for survival. He spoke deliberately, seeing that hope come alive in every face before him.
    “As I said, we have no wish to harm you. Our quarrel is not with you. Our aim is to hold the guests of the hotel as hostages for ransom. We’re not terrorists. We’re not political. We’re businessmen. And we know it’s good business to keep people alive.
    “Accordingly, we’ll be releasing most of the hotel staff and allowingyou to leave. We’ll keep only the managerial staff and a few others to attend to cooking and serving food. We don’t need any more of you and we’ll begin selecting those who can go in a few minutes.”
    He could sense the overwhelming tide of relief that surged through them. Muted conversation sprang up again and this time, he allowed it to continue unchecked. People who thought they were about to be released would be less likely to cause trouble, he knew. He smiled briefly, turning to Markus.
    “I’m afraid you’ll be staying, Ben. Now I want you to pick five others to stay here with us. And Ben,” he added quietly, “don’t go picking any heroes, okay?”
    S enator Ted Carling locked his skis in the ski rack and clumped up the escalator to the reception desk. He stopped, puzzled, as he took in the deserted lobby, the empty tour desks and the lobby drugstore with its closed sign in place. The hotel looked deserted, yet it was barely half-past three in the afternoon.
    As he stood, uncertainly, he noticed a tall, gray-haired man behind the reception desk. The senator moved toward him. He didn’t recognize the man and he was wearing shirtsleeves and a tie, rather than the usual hotel uniform blazer.
    “Yes, Senator Carling? Can I help you?” the man said. Carling wasn’t particularly surprised that the other man knew his identity. He was a prominent figure and he was used to being recognized wherever he went. He courted media attention to make sure of it. Being recognized gave a man presence. And influence. And that spelled power. He swept his hand around the deserted lobby.
    “Where is everybody? I wanted change for the cigarette machine but the store is closed,” he said. His tone of voice, and his body language, said that he expected the