Rehearsal

Part IV

There was a pounding at the door. "Police! Open the doors! Now!", demanded the voice again.

Frustrated the man grinding his teeth. „Lucky you!" he said to Brett. "You just won a seat in the first row." Then he picked him up and let him towards the doors. "Listen", he whispered in Brett ears. "You open the doors just a gap wide, you tell them to leave or else we shot all of the hostages one by one and then you close the door again, Understood?" Brett noded. His body was shaking. His heart raced in his chest. There was a pounding at the door again. "Open up or we have to break in!" Brett grabbed the lock at the door, unlocked it and opened it a gap wide.

On the other side of the doors, two policemen were standing. One was tall with dark skin and broad shoulders. The other one was shorter, nearly as short as Brett. He was lean, pale and seemed a little shy and lost in this situation.

The first few seconds remained in silence as the policemen took a look at Brett's tear-stained face, red marks at his throat and his trammels around his wrists. It seemed like the officers understood rapidly what was going on. Brett harrumphed and said in a shaking voice "You mustn't come in... or they will... they will kill the hostages... one by one." He swallowed hard. His eyes meet the ones of the tall policeman. Then his view got blurred from his upcoming tears. Unsure what to do next he poised there for a few seconds until the kidnapper slowly closed the door and locked it again.

Without another word, he led Brett to kneel in front of a wall. Brett felt empty. His whole energy drowned out of him. He could have just ran out of the room. He doubted that the kidnapper would have acted quickly enough to stop him. But Brett also knew why he hadn't had made this move. His friend was still in here as well. He tried to spot him out of the corner of his eyes, without moving too much to not draw attention on him.

Eddy still remained in unconsciousness.

After a couple of minutes in which the kidnappers had an aggressive discussion about the situation and how to get out of it, a phone began ringing. At the same time, a new voice came through the doors: "This is special agent Parker. I am here to help you. Please answer the phone so we can talk."

Brett could hear footsteps behind him coming closer. The leader had come up to him with the phone that he was now holding to Brett. "Answer it. Make sure to put it on speakers. And no funny business!" With the last words, a gun pushed against his head.

Brett did as he was told. "Hello?", he asked with a shaking voice. "Hello. Thank you for cooperating. My name is Mr Parker and I am here to help you out of this situation." His voice was firm and steady but also caring. There was no doubt he meant what he said. "May I ask whom I am talking to?" – "Brett Yang.", he stuttered. "Okay, Mr Yang. We were told that shots had been fired. Can you tell me if anybody is in need of medical assistance?" Brett looked up to the kidnapper who shook his head. "No," he said. Glancing over to his friend who was still lying on the floor and also thinking about the dead conductor. "Okay, good. Can you tell me how many hostages there are still inside with you?" Brett didn't know but a look at the kidnapper was enough to be sure that he should not answer that anyway. "I... I can't tell you." There was a small pause at the other end. "Okay. You are doing really good Mr Yang. We would like you to..." The leader gestured to end the calling. "I .. I think I have to hang up now", interrupted Brett. – "I would support it if you would stay in the line and keep talking wi-", the kidnapper had hung up and taking the phone back with him. It began ringing again, but no one answered it.

"We need a plan!" said one of the kidnappers as the leader joined their group back at the hall. Brett had to concentrate pretty hard to understand them. "Yeah, but what we also need is a little privacy. They will try to spy on us. Try to listen and see what is going on in here..."- "They are musicians, right? Let them stand near to us and play something loudly. Give us the chance to speak freely." There was a small pause and then the leader shouted across the room: "Yang! What instrument do you play?" Brett froze "The... the .. violin, Sir." He answered without daring to turn around. "Get your ass up here and bring your violin. You are going to sweeten our time a little!"