Chapter 7

April told both her parents about her meeting with Mike Steinman the next day. Valerie was sorry to hear about it, and her father was furious. He thought Mike could have done a lot better than that.

“He doesn’t want kids, Dad, ” April said calmly, although she was upset about it too, but there was nothing she could do. “He broke up with a woman he was crazy about rather than have children with her. ” She was trying to be reasonable about it, although she had found Mike’s position both harsh and extreme, just like his review. It was apparently who he was. And it was not a trait in him she liked, despite his obvious brains and good looks. He had apparently been severely mistreated as a child. She felt sorry for him, but she thought it was a poor excuse for the way he was behaving now.

“You didn’t want a child either, ” her father reminded her, “but you’re making the best of it. Why can’t he? ” He had a point.

“He doesn’t want to, Dad. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. ”

“I think he’s a total jerk. ”

“He has a right to be upset, ” she said quietly. She was being adult about it, or trying to, but she’d shed tears over it the previous night. Mike had been pretty nasty.

And she was utterly stunned when he walked into the restaurant kitchen the next day after the last lunch customer had left. April was in the kitchen, discussing new wine purchases with Jean‑ Pierre, the sommelier. He disappeared as soon as Mike walked in. He looked stormy, but calmer than he had on Saturday night when he left. It made the sommelier wonder what was going on between them. This looked more personal than business.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? ” Mike said tersely. He looked like he hadn’t slept in two days, and he hadn’t shaved. He looked utterly tormented and deeply unhappy, but less angry at her.

“Sure, ” she said calmly, and led him upstairs to her office. She pointed to a chair, but he didn’t sit down. Everything in her office was ancient, ugly, battered, and had been secondhand, in order to save money.

He stood looking at April intently. “Look, I’m sorry I got so upset the other night, and was so tough on you. I just didn’t expect this to happen. It’s my worst nightmare come true. I respect what you’re trying to do, and that you’re stepping up to the plate. And I’m sorry I’m not doing the same. I wish this had never happened to either of us. I don’t want a kid, but I also don’t want to be someone who deserts a child and creates even more problems. I wish you’d have an abortion, but if you won’t, I need to consider this. Give me some time to think, and I’ll get in touch with you. That’s the best I can do for now. ” She looked at him and appreciated that he was at least wrestling with it, she could see how hard it was for him. He wasn’t an asshole or a bad guy probably, he was someone who had been very badly hurt, didn’t want to hurt anyone else, and just didn’t want to have children. He looked as though he rued the day he had come to the restaurant at all.

“Thanks for thinking about it, Mike, ” April said quietly. “I’m sorry this is so hard, for both of us. It shouldn’t be like this. ” No child deserved to come into the world with grief‑ stricken, devastated parents. At least she didn’t feel that way now. There were times when she was even excited about the baby, and she knew that when she finally saw it, she’d be happy. It seemed very obvious now that Mike wouldn’t. He was too frightened by it to ever enjoy it. But he was trying to be responsible, and she respected him for that.

“I’ll call you, ” he said miserably, looked at her for another moment, and then hurried back down the stairs and vanished. He was gone by the time she walked back into the kitchen. She had no idea when she’d hear from him again. Maybe not until the baby was born, if then. She was certainly not going to pursue him. And if she never heard from him again, that was just the way it was. She wasn’t in love with him fortunately, he was “just” her baby’s father. It didn’t get much more serious than that.

She told her mother about his visit when they spoke that afternoon.

“At least he’s trying, ” April said generously.

“He’s lucky you’re not suing him for support, ” her mother reminded her. “Another woman would have. ”

“Whatever. I’m not counting on him in any way. It might be easier if he’s not involved. ” She had thought that from the beginning, and had only contacted him to be fair. She’d done her part now, and whatever he decided about it was up to him. She had no expectations or illusions about him.

For days after Mike had last seen April at the restaurant, he could hardly think straight and couldn’t concentrate on his work. He had reviews to write of three new restaurants, and he couldn’t think of a word to say. He didn’t remember the meals he’d eaten there, everything around him had become a blur. He was sitting, staring blankly at his computer at the newspaper, when his longtime friend Jim stopped at his desk and grinned at him. Mike hadn’t shaved all week, and he looked as discombobulated as he felt. His expression was a combination of desperation and grimness.

“It can’t be as bad as all that, ” Jim said, leaning against Mike’s desk.

“Actually, it’s considerably worse. ” He looked at Jim miserably. They had shared a cubicle at the paper for five years, and had been friends even before that. Mike considered him his best friend, and had been thinking about telling him about the horror that had happened to him, but he was still too upset to do even that. Talking about it would have made it seem all too real and irreversible.

“You look like the roof fell in. ” Jim knew he wasn’t getting fired, their editor loved the reviews Mike wrote, and he hadn’t had a girlfriend in a while, so he hadn’t broken up with anyone. Jim couldn’t imagine what had happened to make him seem that upset.

“It did, ” Mike confirmed with a desolate expression, as Jim sat on the corner of Mike’s desk attentively. “Last weekend. ”

“Something happen to your parents? ” Jim asked sympathetically. He knew Mike had had an unhappy relationship with them for years.

“Who knows? They never call me anymore, and I don’t call them either. The last time I did, my mother was so drunk she didn’t even know who I was. I figured they wouldn’t miss the calls. ” Jim nodded. He had heard it before.

“So what gives? ” Mike seemed unusually reluctant to spill the beans about whatever was bothering him. Most of the time the two men confided in each other about everything.

“I reviewed a restaurant over Labor Day weekend, ” Mike began as Jim listened quietly. “I hated the food … well, actually that’s not true. I liked the food, but I thought the chef was underachieving with the menu. It was diner food, prepared by a first‑ rate chef who is capable of a hell of a lot better. I gave her a lousy review. ” He looked mournful about it now.

“So she’s suing you? ” Jim volunteered, and Mike shook his head.

“No. Not yet anyway. But in time, she could, ” he said cryptically, and Jim smiled. If that’s what it was, he knew Mike had nothing to worry about. There were no grounds for a lawsuit in a bad restaurant review, if what he had essentially said was that he didn’t like the food.

“She can’t sue you for that. Hell, if that were true, you’d be sued three times a week. ” Jim laughed.

“She could sue me for child support, ” Mike said bluntly, as Jim’s face grew serious and he looked long and hard at his friend.

“Would you mind elaborating on that for me? I seem to have missed something here. ” Now Jim looked worried too.

“So did I apparently, my self‑ restraint, ” Mike confessed to him, and felt foolish as he did. “She had a terrific wine list, and I must have tried a half a dozen different wines. We got drunk together, and she’s a hell of a good‑ looking woman. I don’t remember exactly how or when it happened, but I know that eventually we wound up in bed, and what I do remember was pretty impressive. It would have been memorable, and I would have seen her again, except I decided to write the review I did anyway. I thoroughly dumped on her restaurant, so I thought it would have been tasteless to call her. I never heard from her either, until last week. She invited me back to the restaurant for dinner, as some sort of peace offering, I thought. It turns out that she asked me to dinner to tell me she’s pregnant. ” Mike looked almost ill as he said it, and Jim looked stunned.

“And she wants money? ” That much he could figure out, but the rest of what had happened was a little fuzzy.

“No, not a penny, ” Mike said grimly. “Her mother is a well‑ known TV personality, and the restaurant is successful, in spite of what I wrote about it. She doesn’t want anything from me, nor did she ask me to participate in the decision. She has decided to have the baby, and all she wanted was to inform me. ” Mike looked miserably at his friend, who was staring at him in consternation. “I’m screwed whatever I do in this. Either I stay away from her and the baby, and then I’m an asshole who is ruining some innocent kid’s life. Or I get involved, and then I’m up to my neck in a situation I would do damn near anything to avoid. I don’t want a child, ever. I promised myself years ago, after my own childhood, that I would never have children. And now this woman I don’t even know does this to me. I can’t goddamn believe it. And nothing is going to sway her. Believe me, I tried. She is absolutely determined to have this baby, and she doesn’t give a good goddamn if I participate or not. I think she’d almost prefer it if I didn’t. ” And in some ways that was true. He could sense it in the way she had told him. She expected nothing from him, which somehow made the situation even harder for him. She was being so gracious about it that it made him look even worse for his violently negative reaction. It was visceral for him. He didn’t want the baby.

“Does she seem like a nice person? ” Jim asked with interest. He was still stunned by what Mike had just told him.

“Maybe. I think so. All I can focus on is this baby she’s foisted on me. ”

“If she’s not asking you for anything, it doesn’t sound like she’s doing much ‘foisting, ’ ” Jim pointed out fairly.

“Not financially, but she’s sticking me with the responsibility of fatherhood for the rest of my life if she has this baby, ” Mike said, looking angry about it again.

“Maybe that’s not the worst thing that could happen to you, ” Jim said thoughtfully. He was two years older than Mike, had been happily married for fourteen years, and had three children he was crazy about. He had been telling Mike for years that he should find a nice woman, get married, and have children. Mike was always adamant when he said no. “Since she’s going to have the baby anyway, why don’t you spend some time with her and get to know her, and see how you feel about it then? It’s hard not to fall in love with your own children, ” Jim pointed out to him. He had been there when each of his were born, it had been a life‑ changing event for him, but he had never had the resistance to having children that Mike very obviously did, and Jim loved his wife.

“Funny, my parents seem to have managed not to fall in love with me, ” Mike said with a rueful grin. “I don’t think parenting is for everyone. That notion is probably the only thing I have in common with my parents. They never wanted children, as they say at every opportunity, and I’m smart enough not to try. ”

“Destiny seems to have decided otherwise, ” Jim said as he stood up, and went to sit in the chair at his own desk, only a few feet from Mike’s. He was the paper’s leading art critic, and like Mike, he had a number of gallery show critiques to write. He often invited Mike to go to openings of art shows with him, and whenever he could, Mike took Jim along when he went to check out a new restaurant to review. He was sorry he hadn’t taken Jim with him the first time he went to April in New York. If he had, none of this would have happened. “I think you ought to give this some very serious thought, ” Jim said carefully. “This could turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. There’s nothing more miraculous in life than having a child. ”

“Whose side are you on? ” Mike asked, looking irritated as he tried to concentrate on his computer screen again and ignore everything that Jim had said.

“I’m on your side, ” Jim said quietly. “Maybe this happened for a reason, ” he said cryptically. “God moves in mysterious ways, ” he added smugly as Mike almost snarled in response.

“This has nothing to do with God. It has to do with two very drunk supposed adults, who had way too much wine and got into a hell of a mess of their own making, ” Mike said, willing to take responsibility for the mistake and the dubious behavior, but not the child.

“Don’t be so sure, ” Jim said, and then concentrated on his own computer screen, and for the rest of the afternoon, neither of them said another word.

April didn’t hear from Mike for the next three weeks, and didn’t expect to. She told Ellen that it wouldn’t surprise her at all if she never heard from him again. He so much didn’t want the baby that his solution to the problem might be complete denial, of her and the child. She was startled in fact when the week before Christmas he called her on her cell phone. It was midmorning, and she was getting ready for the lunch crowd. They were booked solid straight through the holidays for the next four weeks. She had even decided to keep the restaurant open on Christmas Day and New Year’s, for their regulars, who wanted a place to go.

“April? ” He sounded somber and tense when she answered.

“Hi. How’ve you been, Mike? ” She tried to keep it light. He sounded so unhappy.

“I’ve been fine. ” He sounded busy. “I’m sorry to call you with news like this. But I was just turning in a story, and all hell is breaking loose here. I thought you’d want to know. It’ll be on the news in a few minutes, and I wanted to give you a heads‑ up. There’s a hostage situation going on at the network where your mother works. They think it’s been taken over by half a dozen men. No one seems to know yet how it happened, or who they are. The screens have gone blank over there, and your mother was on air when they did. ” She did a morning show several times a week, and an evening show. April glanced at her watch as he said it, and realized that he was right. She was right in the middle of the morning show.

“Is she okay? Did something happen to her? ” April sounded panicked, and he felt sorry for her. He had realized during his dinner with her how close she and her family were, even if it was hard for him to understand.

“I don’t know. The screens just went blank. I think they’re holding two floors, and the building is full of SWAT teams on other floors. They haven’t moved in on the hostage‑ takers yet. And they’ve managed to keep it off the news for the last half‑ hour, but the story’s about to break. I didn’t want you to see it on TV. ” He sounded sympathetic and worried about her.

“Thanks, Mike, ” she said, fighting back tears. “What am I going to do? Do you think I can go over there? ”

“They won’t let you near it. Stay put. I’ll call you if I hear anything. Turn on your TV. I think the story’s coming on now. ”

“Thank you, ” she whispered, and hung up, panicked by what was happening to her mother. She turned on the TV in the kitchen immediately, and the report was alarming. Six armed gunmen had taken over the network building an hour before. It was hard to believe they could pull it off, but they had. Once they took their first hostages, they kept gathering more, on two floors of the building. The report said that they were heavily armed with machine guns and automatic weapons, were of unknown nationality and origin and could have been from the Middle East or even American terrorists, and they had sealed two floors of the building. All the hostages were being held on those floors and no one had dared to try to free them yet for fear that the hostages would be killed. The broadcaster mentioned which floors were being held, and April realized instantly that one of them was the floor where her mother did her show. Her show had gone dark right after the introduction, as had several others. There were a number of studios on those two floors.

As she kept her eyes glued to the screen, April quickly dialed her stepmother and told her what had happened. She told her to turn on her TV, and five minutes later, her father called her, in tears. He was as frightened as April was. It reminded them all of 9/11. This wasn’t as dramatic, but the potential risk was huge. It had occurred to everyone that they might blow up part of the building in a suicide bombing and take hundreds of people with them, in a major public statement. Or there was also the possibility that they wanted to use the network to disseminate their message. No one knew yet. But everyone feared that the hostage‑ takers were extremists of some kind to attempt such a desperate act.

Within five minutes, responsible Middle Eastern governments and religious groups had denied all association with the attack. Their assessment was that it was possibly a fundamentalist splinter group, and there was no question, the risk factor was major to everyone in that building and possibly within blocks around if they had enough explosives on them to do major damage. No one knew for sure if that was the case. April was sitting with her eyes riveted to the screen, her heart pounding as she listened to the broadcast, and she turned when she felt a hand on her shoulder, not sure who it was. She was stunned to find herself looking at Mike. He had come to the restaurant to be with her. Their vigil lasted all day, as crisis teams tried to make contact with the hostage‑ takers. By six o’clock that night, the building was still under siege. A few people had trickled out from one of the two floors, when the gunmen moved everyone to a single floor so they could control them better. The SWAT teams had since taken over the abandoned floor, to get closer to where the hostages were being held on the floor above. And those who had escaped said that several people had been shot. There were two bodies in the corridors on the floor that the SWAT team reclaimed, but their identities had not been announced. April prayed her mother wasn’t one of the victims.

There were SWAT teams on the roof, on the floor below, and the lobby and none dared make a move so far, for fear of endangering the hostages further. Neighboring buildings had been evacuated, as the street below swarmed with crisis teams, equipment, firefighters, and police, waiting for something to happen.

And through it all, Mike sat with April and held her hand. The restaurant opened for business, and she never left the kitchen. She had sat in the same spot for hours, praying for her mother, while Mike sat with her in silence, and once in a while he tried to get her to eat something or handed her a glass of water. He felt desperately sorry for her. April’s face was deathly white, and he wondered if she’d lose the baby from the shock, but he didn’t dare think about that now. He just wanted to be there for April. Whatever disagreement they had about their accidental child paled in comparison to this major drama. It seemed inevitable that more people were about to be killed, when the SWAT teams moved in to liberate the hostages. And the hostage‑ takers were threatening to shoot their victims.

April had no idea how her mother was faring. There was no communication with anyone on the floor where the attackers were holding them captive. Helicopters were whirring overhead, and several had already landed on the roof. No one dared to rush the floor in question for fear that the hostage‑ takers would kill them all.

Their first clear message came just after seven o’clock that night. They were a desperate group of Palestinian extremists, willing to die themselves and kill Americans, in protest of recent Israeli commando attacks on the Palestinian‑ Israeli border. They said they wanted Americans to know how it felt. The Palestinian government denied any association with them, and knew nothing of them. They were protesting the ongoing plight of their people and seeking world attention, even if it meant killing innocent people to do it. Their willingness to die made it difficult for negotiators on the scene to reason with them. By then, all of the responsible Middle Eastern governments were outraged by their actions, and offered any help that was needed. Several delegates came over from the UN to try to assist with the negotiations, and translations if nothing else. They came as a gesture of their good faith, and explained that the group was acting on their own without their own government’s knowledge or blessing, and was being severely criticized by them as well. No one in any government wanted the hostages to get hurt, while the hostage‑ takers frantically insisted that they were prepared to die for their cause, and take as many victims as possible with them. They appeared to be beyond reason. Their attack on the network had been disorganized but frighteningly effective.

April just sat there and cried as she watched. She talked to her father and Maddie frequently on her cell phone, and Mike never left her for a minute. He said little, but he was steadfastly there with her and had been all day.

The scene in the street outside the network building was one of organized chaos and extreme tension. The hostage‑ takers claimed that they had enough explosives on them to blow up the building, and intended to do so. There were vehicles and men in uniforms of every kind everywhere, SWAT teams, crisis units, the office of emergency services, firefighters, police, police captains, fire chiefs, and there was talk of a National Guard unit being brought in. And UN diplomats were scattered everywhere, looking grim and feeling helpless. For the moment, they all were. The SWAT teams were poised to attack, but it had to be impeccably done, with speed and precision, and even then there was a good chance that all or most of the hostages could be killed. No one wanted to take that chance with a bungled attack that was badly orchestrated or premature. It was kept out of the news, but a small team of Israeli commandos who normally protected their ambassador had come to advise them, although their presence would have enraged the hostage‑ takers even more. It seemed like half the Middle Eastern security from the UN was there to help. No one wanted to be associated with the attackers, or to see another 9/11 happen. The tension in the air was palpable, and a command center had been set up a block away, teeming with experts, CIA, FBI. There had been no warning of the attack. It had just happened, and so far, no one dared to make a move, for fear of making the situation worse.

By sheer coincidence, Jack Adams had been on his way into the building when it happened. He realized he had forgotten his cell phone in the car and had gone back out, and by the time he returned five minutes later, the building was shut down, and he had stuck around to help. All of the police and SWAT teams recognized him, and were impressed that he stayed all day. He looked over building maps with them and conferred with network security, who were as helpless as everyone else. Unless they were willing to risk the hostages, their hands were tied. And at six o’clock, the heads of assorted units were formulating a plan to come up the vents from the floor below and take the hostage‑ takers by surprise. Jack was listening carefully to the plan with the others and being given VIP status by being allowed to be there.

The estimate was that close to a hundred people were being held hostage. The terrorists had released no one in the nine hours they had held the building, and given the frantic quality of the hostage‑ takers’ messages, it was becoming clear to everyone that there was a possibility that they could all be killed. They were impossible to reason with. There was no way of knowing how many had already died. No one was sure, and the terrorists weren’t telling. The captain of the SWAT team had finally established ongoing radio contact with them at four o’clock, and UN interpreters were translating, but so far their messages consisted mainly of threats, and lengthy diatribes about the situation in their country. Several UN negotiators from Middle Eastern countries attempted to talk them down to no avail.

By eight o’clock that night, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the only way to free the hostages was not by negotiation with the terrorists, but by force. And the captain of the SWAT team didn’t want to wait much longer. Other members of the SWAT team and the New York police chief were going over maps of the building in detail, as Jack Adams listened. They were studying the air vents and crawl spaces closely. Even the architect of the building was on the scene. The CIA and FBI finally made an executive decision to send the SWAT teams in by nine o’clock, and the governor and president were being kept closely informed. The mayor was on the scene, along with assorted diplomats and a UN task force, and the whole country was watching. It was all too reminiscent of 9/11.

A clumsy attempt by the terrorists to broadcast was made at 8: 15, with hand‑ held cameras. They rambled on at length, and said they were going to blow up the building. You couldn’t see them clearly, but as the hand‑ held camera bounced crazily, you could see hostages in the background huddled together. The hostage‑ takers looked like a rough group. There were only six of them, but they appeared to have an arsenal of weapons that no one knew how they had gotten in.

April looked intently at the screen when the message came on, but she didn’t see her mother. She had no idea if she was dead or alive by then. All they could do was wait to find out. Mike said nothing, but stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She looked up at him and thanked him. It had made a difference, having him there with her all day. Her staff didn’t quite know what to make of it. They all knew she didn’t have a boyfriend, but clearly there was some kind of bond between the well‑ known restaurant critic and their boss that they had never known about before. It was hard to believe that it was new to April too. But she’d been grateful for his company all day, and for his warning of what had just happened before it hit the news.

By eight‑ thirty the plan to attack the hostage‑ takers was in place, although it was dangerous for all concerned, both liberators and hostages. It was almost inevitable that some people would get killed.

All the buildings in the surrounding area had been evacuated hours before, and all traffic had been stopped in case the hostage‑ takers followed through on their threat to blow up the building. Only emergency vehicles and crisis units and eventually the military were on the scene, and a handful of advisers. Jack Adams was hanging in, talking to them whenever possible. No one was sure if he was there as a journalist, or just a very concerned person, with friends and co‑ workers in the building under siege. But because of who he was, they let him stick around. The CIA and SWAT teams chatted with him, and whenever appropriate, he joined in their discussions. He wanted to go in with one of the SWAT teams, but they declined. There was no way he could. It was a risk they couldn’t take. This was a tight, highly professional operation.

And finally, the SWAT teams prepared to make their move. The electricity in the building had been cut off shortly before, and a few minutes before nine a group of forty highly trained men went in through the basement. Others had landed on the roof, and still others were crawling up the air vents in a carefully orchestrated strategic plan. The men were carrying oxygen tanks and wearing infrared goggles, had on bulletproof vests and the overalls of the SWAT team. They were carrying automatic rifles and machine guns as Jack watched them leave.

It was nine minutes after nine when they reached the floor where the hostages were being held, gleaned from reports of the few people who had escaped, disappearing down back stairways while no one was looking. The few who got out did so only on a fluke, but had given them valuable information.

The leading SWAT team had come up an air vent from a lower floor in total darkness, with suction devices on their gloves and shoes.

They came out of the vent into an empty hallway, but they could hear voices nearby. The voices were speaking English, and by sheer luck, the men from the SWAT team found a room of sixty women, with only two men guarding them near the door. The lead marksmen of the SWAT team took the guards out instantly in silence, as the women watched in amazement, and miraculously no one screamed. They signed to the women as best they could not to make a sound, and to follow them. As quickly as possible, they were taken through three sets of doors, and led down two stairways, handed from man to man. Many of them had lost their shoes and were barefoot. All looked frightened but were brave, as they hurried down the stairs. They were all stunned that no one had stopped them, as their liberators wondered exactly where the male hostages were being held.

Jack was standing in the lobby with one of the commando units waiting for news from upstairs, when the women came through a fire door and began running across the lobby, sobbing and in bare feet. No one had radioed to say they were on their way and that they had been freed. Most of the members of the SWAT team had stayed upstairs to find the men. And suddenly it was pandemonium as sixty women ran through the lobby and front doors of the building with a handful of men directing them, and the commandos in the lobby sprang into action to lend a hand, as did Jack. A woman near him stumbled, nearly fainting, and he picked her up and carried her outside. A reporter took his picture as he handed her to the nearest fireman and rushed back inside.

The women were still coming down the stairs, and he suddenly saw Valerie emerge from the fire door, and she looked startled when she recognized him. He was heading toward her and several others, when they all heard a shot. No one knew where it had come from, and within seconds, all hell had broken loose.

A lone sniper had come down another stairway when he found the women missing and opened fire on them. Two women dropped to the floor, and a commando was shot in the arm before anyone could react, and by then the sniper was darting through the crowd with a mask on his face. The commandos didn’t dare shoot at him, for fear of killing any of the women, who were screaming and running toward the doors.

Jack had reached Valerie by then, who was kneeling next to a woman who had been shot in the head. And without thinking, Jack grabbed Valerie, pulled her to her feet, shielded her with his body, and led her to the doors, where a policeman pulled her out. Just as he did, four of the commandos took careful aim at the sniper and killed him on the spot. He lay in a pool of blood facedown on the marble floor near the two women he had killed.

Jack was staring at the scene in disbelief as the faces of the women swirled around him, and he heard a man’s voice say something to him. The words he heard were a blur, as Jack saw legs around him and wondered what had happened, and as he did, everything went black. He passed out without a sound.

The women were out of the building as the remaining commandos knelt over Jack. The sniper had shot him in the leg and hit an artery before the SWAT team took the sniper out. They had Jack on a gurney and rushed him to an ambulance, as Valerie and the other women were being tended to, covered with blankets, and shepherded into the hands of medical units that had been waiting for them for hours. Valerie saw the ambulance leave but didn’t register who was in it. She hadn’t seen Jack fall.

In the lobby, firemen and police were covering the three bodies with tarps. It was a grisly scene, and the white marble floor was covered with blood.

There was no further news from upstairs yet, but within seconds their radios came to life. The male hostages were safe. Three were killed during the operation to free them, and four had been shot before their rescuers arrived. In total, eleven people had died in the attack. It was more than anyone wanted, but better than they had feared. The remaining terrorists had tried to detonate a bomb, which the SWAT team had been able to deactivate immediately. It was a small, amateurish bomb, and all of the hostage‑ takers had been killed by the commandos. Their weapons had been rough and their plan crude but astonishingly effective.

The men who had been taken hostage were brought downstairs, taken past the grisly scene in the lobby, and turned over to medical units, just as the women had been. Several units of the SWAT team were still upstairs checking for bombs.

Valerie left the scene in a police car, with siren screaming, as many of the vehicles in the area began to back up and leave. More police units were brought in for the clean‑ up, as Valerie borrowed a cell phone from one of the policemen to call April at the restaurant.

April burst into tears the minute she heard her mother’s voice. She was sobbing incoherently in relief. Valerie said they had to be debriefed and examined at the hospital, and she would call her as soon as she got home. She didn’t think it would be for several hours. As she hung up, April melted into Mike’s arms.

“She’s okay, ” she said to him, blowing her nose in a tissue someone handed her. “She didn’t have time to tell me much else. She’ll call me later. I’m okay, if you want to go. ” She looked at him apologetically, and he shook his head. He was staying till the bitter end. She called her father then to tell him that Valerie was okay, and he burst into tears too. The day had been agonizing beyond belief for them all. The tension had gone on for nearly twelve hours. It was hard to believe that six gunmen had taken over the network building, and that they had gotten in, while the whole free world watched what they were doing on broadcasts in every country.

By eleven o’clock, it was confirmed that in total eleven people had been killed, all network employees, although their names hadn’t been released, until their families could be notified. The only one Valerie knew about for sure was her assistant Marilyn, who had been one of the two women the sniper shot in the lobby. Valerie had seen it happen. When April was talking to her father, Valerie was at Bellevue being examined, and Jack Adams was at New York – Presbyterian Hospital, in the trauma unit, critically injured.

There was a rapid mention of it on the news, which April saw at the restaurant. The report said that Jack Adams had been shot at the end of the hostage situation, while helping the freed women from the building. A sniper had shot him and hit an artery in his leg. They identified him as the former NFL quarterback turned sportscaster and said he had been at the site all day, talking to the SWAT teams and other crisis units at the scene, and offering any assistance he could.

The restaurant was closed by then, and April finally left her vigil in front of the television. She and Mike both looked exhausted and as though they’d been there themselves. She could only imagine how her mother felt and was still waiting for her call when she was allowed to leave the hospital. April wanted to go to her, but Valerie had said she couldn’t. It was too chaotic.

Valerie finally called at 2: 15 in the morning, and said that she was in a police car, on her way home to her apartment. It was over, the building was secure, the terrorists were dead. Eleven hostages had been killed, but it could have been infinitely worse. It had been terrible for all of them, but it wasn’t 9/11. Six amateur terrorists had actually taken over a network, and accomplished only chaos and death, and nothing for their cause. Even their own government was horrified by what they’d done.

The network had already set up broadcast capability on other floors so they could resume programming in the morning, and get back to some semblance of normalcy, or at least the appearance of it.

“I’ll be there in five minutes, ” April promised her mother. She was going to spend the night with her and was grateful that that was possible. Valerie could just as easily have been one of the victims as the survivors. They all could. April was shaken to her core, and the only thing that had gotten her through it was Mike. “I don’t know how to thank you, ” she said as she locked the restaurant and took a deep breath of cold air on the sidewalk. “This has been the worst day of my life … and the best … since she lived through it. ” She couldn’t bear to think what would have happened if the terrorists had killed her mother. She was so relieved they hadn’t. “Thank you for being here, Mike. ” He had been wonderful to her, and she had seen a side of him she couldn’t have imagined, and would never have seen otherwise. A side of humanity, tenderness, and compassion, so unlike his sometimes direct, cold, and aloof side.

“I’m glad I could be here, ” he said gently as he hailed a cab. He was exhausted too. “That’s too bad about Jack Adams, ” he added as they shared a cab uptown. He was going to drop her off at her mother’s to spend the night. “He was my hero when I was a kid. I always wanted to be just like him. I hope he makes it. I’ve always heard he’s a good guy, and it sounds like he was a real hero, helping people out. He didn’t have to do that. ” April nodded. All she could think of now was her mother, although she felt sorry for Jack Adams.

Mike dropped her off at her mother’s building on Fifth Avenue, and he was taking the cab back downtown where he lived. April offered to pay for the cab, and he laughed at her.

“I think I can manage it, ” he said, teasing her. “You pay for our kid’s college education, I’ll take care of the cab. ” She smiled shyly up at him at the mention of their unborn child. It was the first time the subject had come up all day. They had had other things on their minds.

“That’s a deal, ” she said, smiling at him. She wasn’t sure she’d have heard from him by then, if it wasn’t for her mother, and he wasn’t sure of it either. He needed time to think about what had happened, and what was facing them. He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to be part of it or not. But he had been happy to be there for her today. He couldn’t let her face this agony and terror alone, and she reached up and hugged him. “Thanks, Mike. You were a hero for me today, and whatever happens after this, I love you for it. I couldn’t have gotten through today without you. ”

“Just take it easy. Get some rest. And I know you probably won’t, but you should take the day off tomorrow. Today was one hell of a day. ”

“Yes, it was. ” She nodded as he got back in the cab. She waved, and he drove off a minute later, as he laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He had never been through anything this hard, and he admired April enormously for her calm grace and self‑ control.

April walked into the building only moments after her mother had arrived. Valerie was still wearing the red slacks and sweater she’d worn for the show that day, and the slippers they’d given her in the hospital when she arrived without shoes on. She was still shaking when April put her arms around her, and she had a hospital blanket around her shoulders. She had never seen her mother look like that, disheveled, frightened, and so profoundly shaken.

“I love you, Mom, ” April said, crying as she held her. All Valerie could do now was nod and sob as her daughter held her. The terror of it had been awful, waiting to be shot or die in an explosion at any moment. She had been sure none of them would come out of it alive, and many of the experts on the scene agreed with her, although they hadn’t said that to the public. “Come on, let’s put you to bed, ” April said as her mother just shook harder and expressed her sadness about Marilyn again.

April led her into her bedroom, like a child, and undressed her. She tucked her into bed and turned off the lights, and lay beside her, still dressed, on top of the covers. She held her mother tight, and finally Valerie drifted off to sleep. They had given her a tranquilizer at the hospital, and April lay awake for hours, watching her and stroking her hair, so grateful that she had survived it. She couldn’t help thinking about Mike too, and their baby. At least she knew now that her baby had a decent father, he had a kind heart, even if he didn’t want children. Having almost lost her mother that day, the baby seemed like even more of a gift now. Destiny moved in strange ways. Her mother had been spared, while others died. And she was having a baby with a perfect stranger. All she knew as she hugged her mother that night was how relieved she was. And as the sky turned to pale gray on a cold December morning, April fell asleep peacefully beside her mother.