Incident in San Francisco

“I feel the same way. I don’t see how we can do anything but wait, but I keep thinking about those cases where hostages didn’t do anything and got shot anyway. But what could we do now that he’s got us locked in here, and he has all the guns?” Laura questioned.

Monty confessed “I don’t normally ever lie, but I did when I told him I had no rifle. Mine is down in the barn – I left it there when I was in a hurry to leave for the Cow Palace, and didn’t want to take it to San Francisco”.

“Yes, but we’re locked in here. If we broke a window to get out, he’d hear it” Laura protested.

“There’s another thing he doesn’t know”, Monty replied. “There is another way out of this room. The ceiling in the closet has a trapdoor to give access to the attic. If I got up in there, I think I could remove the ventilation grate in this end of the house and drop down to the ground. Then I could get to the barn and get the rifle”.

“But could you get out of the house without him hearing it? And what would you do with the rifle?”, Laura asked. This experience was like nothing she had ever imagined, or ever seen outside of a movie. She wanted to know details so that she could try to evaluate the feasibility of the plan.

“You could turn on that clock radio by the bed to give a little covering noise”, Monty responded, answering her questions as he considered the actions he’d be taking. “I can move pretty quietly – I’ve learned to do that when hunting. There’s no light in the attic, but the ventilation grills at each end will let in a little moonlight. He’s at the very other end of the house, but I’d have to be extremely quiet anyway – and quick. I don’t know how long he’s going to stay in the kitchen”.

Laura persisted in her questions. “But what will you do once you have the rifle? Isn’t it awfully dangerous to try to confront an armed murderer?”

“That’s very true, Laura.” Monty said reassuringly. “I was never in the military. I don’t hunt for sport. All my experience with guns has been on the ranch, just doing target practice or shooting varmints, from ground squirrels up to wild boar, when necessary to protect the animals or property. But I’m quite good with guns, and I know this house inside and out, every squeak and rattle. I think if I had the rifle, I could slip into the house unnoticed. He’s not expecting anyone since he thinks we’re secure in here. I could get the jump on him, hold him with the rifle, and then we could call the sheriff and he’d be out of our lives”.

“It does sound like you’ve thought this out”, Laura said somewhat doubtfully. “I’m just wondering if we should take that chance, or if we should risk staying put and hoping he’ll let us go when he leaves”.

“I know, that’s a big decision. It would be really good if you could escape out the attic with me – there are lots of places outside where we could hide out where he’d never find us. I’m just afraid that trying to get you out too might result in more noise, and with that assault rifle of his, if he heard a noise in the attic and started shooting through the ceiling, we’d both be dead.”

“I’m sure you’re right about that. It would be better if I stayed here while you went. But are we sure we want to risk this?”, Laura queried.

“For myself, I’m perfectly willing to do it” Monty replied. “But this is a big decision, and we both need to agree on it. I’ll stay here with you if you think that’s best.”

“No, Monty, I keep thinking of those poor people in similar situations who did nothing, and regretted it” Laura said seriously. “I have faith in you, Monty, and if you say you can do it, that’s the way I want to go, too”.

“Alright, then, it’s settled”, Monty said, swinging out of bed carefully so that his boots didn’t make any noise on the polished plank floor. ”Turn on the radio quietly to make a little background noise. If anything goes wrong, or any shooting starts, hide under the bed or in the closet. If all goes well, I’ll be back here shortly and have him tied up, and this will all be just an exciting adventure to tell our grandchildren about”.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, both thought the same thing. By “our grandchildren”, was Monty meaning grandchildren they would have together, or separately? As Monty moved quietly over to the closet and slid open the middle door, Laura swung her legs out of bed and tiptoed over to him. “Do be careful, Monty, and please do hurry. And thanks for everything”, she said, and almost without thinking, stretched up to give him a quick kiss. Surprised, Monty returned the kiss, then squeezed her arm gently and said, “I’ll hurry, Laura, and you stay safe too. I’ll see you shortly”.

Monty slid the shirts in the middle of the closet aside to reveal cleats nailed to the back wall, forming a rough ladder to the trapdoor above. A gap in the shelf above the clothes was just wide enough for a body to squeeze through on its way to the attic. He carefully placed one foot on the bottom cleat, the foot on his cowboy boot turned sideways because the cleat only projected about 2’’ from the wall. With his height, he was able to stretch his hands almost to the top cleat near the ceiling, and started to climb. Just before his head bumped the trapdoor above, he put one hand up and slid the covering slowly and carefully to one side. When the opening was completely clear, he grasped the joists on either side and used the strength in his arms to pull himself the rest of the way into the attic.

The lights were on in the bedroom, and with the closet door and trapdoor open, the interior of the attic was lighted faintly. Monty rested a moment to let his eyes adjust, and placed his hands on the roof support members and his feet on the matching joists above the ceiling. Then he carefully made his way toward the slatted ventilation grill on the end of the house, moving his hands first to feel the next roof member, then his feet to find the joist. He moved as quietly but as quickly as he could, worrying about Laura left behind. When he reached the end wall, he carefully knelt down, the sharp edges of the joist uncomfortable on his knees. Despite his care, a toe of one boot scraped the sheetrock of the ceiling below, and he paused breathlessly for a moment, hoping the noise hadn’t been heard. It was only his heightened sense of hearing that made him fear that, because he was far away from where Ranny sat in the kitchen.

Although he had been in the attic once or twice before, once as a kid exploring the house, and once as an adult when he installed a ceiling fan in the kitchen, he had never paid much attention to the construction if the ventilation grates. Felling with both hands, he discovered that they were in the form of louvers, thin wooden slats about 2”” in width, set at a 45 degree angle with space between for air to circulate. A light mesh screen on the outside kept out insects or small animals. Carefully, Monty hooked his fingers under each slat in turn and tugged gently on it, testing for looseness but fearing to pull too hard and have one snap loudly in two. Only one seemed a little loose at one end, but that was all he had to work with. He placed one hand over the nailhead on the loose end to muffle any noise, then grasped the slat close to that end and slowly pulled back on it, wiggling it as he pulled. The nail barely squeaked as it came out of the frame, and Monty stopped the pressure as soon as it was clear, because the slat was bending dangerously. He switched to the other end of that slat, and carefully wiggled it up and down, back and forth, loosening that end. Feeling that it had loosened somewhat, he repeated the procedure he had used on the other end, and carefully pulled the slat completely off.

Monty heaved an internal sigh of relief at getting this part of the escape plan started without any noise. Working more quickly now, he used that slat as a lever, bracing it against the grill frame with an end tucked under the next slat. He pulled gently with one hand and applied pressure with the lever using the other hand, and so was able to pry all the remaining slats completely off. Several times, a nail squeaked alarmingly as it was pulled from the old wooden frame, each time causing Monty’s heart to stop for a moment, but the noise was much louder to his ears than in actuality. The final step was to carefully push out on the edges of the wire screen until it, too, was clear of the frame and had dropped to the ground below. Monty was now squatting in front of an opening large enough for him to squeeze through and carry out the rest of his plan.

Carefully reversing his position, Monty settled himself with his feet extending out the opening. It wasn’t large enough for him to back out in while kneeling, so he had to lie face-first across several joists and then slowly inch his way backwards until he had his waist at the edge of he opening, and his feet and legs finally hung down along the end wall of the house. He was about 12 feet above the ground, but when he had backed all the way out and hung by his hands, he wouldn’t have far to drop.

He had just started to wiggle his stomach over the edge, when he heard something which putt chills up his spine and the raw taste of fear in this mouth. Panicked, he abandoned all effort to be quiet, and desperately wriggled his body backward out the opening, ignoring the splinters and scrapes he was receiving from the rough joists.

He couldn’t make out the words, but he had heard Ranny yell something, and then after a pause, he heard Laura’s voice reply.

CHAPTER 24

When Monty’s boots disappeared up into the dark opening of the attic, Laura felt very alone. Despite her brave front, and although she did truly feel that it was better to do something positive to get out of this situation, she had qualms about being left alone in this strange house with a dangerous man. She did feel that she had gotten to know Monty and could trust in his judgment, but she realized that she had only met him the night before this. She stood at the closet door and listened nervously to see if Monty was able to move as quietly as he had promised, but when a minute had passed and she saw no sign of him above, and had heard not the slightest sound, she relaxed a little and went back to sit on the bed. Remembering that Monty had said she should provide some cover noise, she turned on the small radio on the nightstand.

It was set to a classical music station, just one more surprise in her continuing education about this man she was growing to admire more with every hour that she spent with him. She had half-expected a country-western station instead. Remembering the fragment of news they had heard in the truck on the way down, before Ranny had snapped that radio off, she searched around the dial to find a news station. She kept the volume low enough that it wouldn’t catch Ranny’s attention, but loud enough to try to counteract any noise from the attic above.

When she found a station with talk instead of music, she left that one on. When the weather report ended, the announcer said, “Now for a further update on tonight’s tragic shooting at the Cow Palace in San Francisco. The three people confirmed dead are the president of the Cow Palace, the manager in charge of maintenance there, and another man whose identity has not been released pending notification of next of kin. The two Cow Palace personnel were hit multiple times, the other man only once, and it appears that he was an unintended victim of this shooting. Police are looking into the possibility that the shooter was a disgruntled employee, and are checking employment records. The shooting happened during the opening ceremonies, when all the arena lights were out with only a spotlight on the president. Witnesses gave varying accounts of events, but several thought they saw a short man in a long black coat leaving hastily right after the shooting. Police are still interviewing witnesses and pursuing leads”.

So it was confirmed. The man in the kitchen down the hall had murdered three people earlier tonight. That made Laura even more certain that she and Monty had made the right decision in attempting to do something other than just wait to see what his next move would be. But at the same time, it worried her to think that she was alone in the house with him, while her protector was somewhere in the attic above. Her nails bit into her palms, as she clenched her fists, trying to hold in the tension. This was the most frightening situation she had ever been in, and she didn’t know how she could stand the wait until Monty made it back to the house with his gun, and this whole ordeal ended.

She was sitting at the head of the bed by the radio, and a few minutes later she heard slight creaking noises directly overhead. She assumed that was Monty removing the ventilation grille, and silently wished him speedy, silent success. The waiting and uncertainty was getting to her.

When they had approached the house, she had not known that they would be relying on finding a way to escape from it, and hadn’t noticed the covered openings high up on each end of the ranch house. But she had noticed that feature on some older houses with pitched roofs in Montreal, so she was somewhat familiar with the concept. She just didn’t know how they were constructed, how Monty could take one apart, and if the opening would be large enough if he succeeded in his plan. It was with trepidation that she awaited the ending of the faint sounds from above, which would signal that his demolition work was finished.

Mere moments after she heard the last little sound from above, she heard a terrifying sound from down the hall.

“Hey, cowboy, get your ass out here. I need you to show me which of these roads south would have the least traffic” Ranny hollered. “I’m untying the door handle, but I’ve got this gun trained on the door so don’t try coming out doing something stupid”.

Laura thought her heart would stop. How could she possibly get them out of this jam? Ranny was sure to explode when he found Monty gone, and Laura knew that Monty couldn’t have gotten to the barn yet. She had to try to stall for time.

She went to the door, and said in a loud stage whisper, “He’s fallen asleep”.

“The hell he has”, snarled Ranny, untying the door handle. He yanked the door open, sweeping the M-16 back and forth warily as he entered, thinking that Monty might be hiding behind the door waiting to attack him. When nothing like that happened, he stepped into the room and saw only Laura, cowering against the side wall, a look of terror on her face.

“Where the hell is he?” he demanded, crouching down to look under the bed, the gun always pointing in front of him. A glance showed him both windows still firmly nailed shut, the glass panes unbroken. Then he spotted the closet door opened, and cautiously opened those doors, sweeping clothes aside with the barrel of the gun. He saw nothing. But something caused him to look up, and he saw the opening into the attic and knew immediately that half of his hostage quarry had escaped. He stepped back into the room, his face contorted with rage, and fired a burst of shots into the ceiling. Laura screamed and covered her ears against the noise.

“Come on, goddammit” Ranny yelled, grabbing Laura roughly by one arm, his carbine in the other. He ran down the hall to the front door, half-dragging Laura behind him, his grip on her arm so tight that she knew she’d have bruises from it. He pulled her roughly out onto the porch, the motion-sensor light bathing them and a wide semi-circle of the front yard in light much brighter than the moonlight shining everywhere else. Ranny pulled her around in front of him, holding the rifle vertically up her back, the tip of the barrel just below the back of her head.

“What’s that son-of-a-bitch’s name?”, he demanded.

“Monty”, Laura replied through chattering teeth, more scared than she’d ever been in her life.

“Monty, you stupid bastard!” screamed Ranny. “Whatever you think you’re doing, you’d better know that I’ve got your girl. If you call the cops there’s going to be shooting, and she’ll be dead, and it’ll be your fault. We’re leaving now, and don’t even think of trying to do anything to stop us”. He was almost hysterical with rage, and he was yelling so loudly that Monty’s neighbors, even a mile away, would have heard him through the quiet of the country air had they been outside. And Monty heard him, too.

When Monty had heard the commotion inside, he scrambled backwards out of the attic opening and dropped to the ground, not waiting to lower himself the full length of his arms. That was a mistake, because dropping quickly without preparation from that height resulted in a hard fall, and one ankle would have been badly twisted except for the sturdy shaft on his cowboy boot. But it was painful enough that he was limping as he started running towards the barn. He ran alongside the path, since the ground was softer there than on the hard path.

He was only halfway to the barn when the porch light went on and Ranny and Laura appeared outside the house. He had just reached the shade of the massive old oak tree, and quickly ducked around the far side of it. The light from the house didn’t reach this far, and the thick foliage of the old oak totally blocked out the moonlight. Monty was inside a little well of darkness, and by staying on the side of the trunk away from the house, he knew Ranny couldn’t see him.

But he also knew that the moonlight was still so bright that he couldn’t run the rest of the way to the barn without being seen. He also knew that the automatic weapon Ranny had would mow him down if he tried: accurate shooting wasn’t necessary when 30 rounds could be sprayed in his direction. Impotently, he had to stay silent and listen to Ranny’s rant.

Then he heard them coming down the steps from the porch, Laura’s cowboy boots making a lot of noise as Ranny half-dragged, half pushed her down the steps. As they came along the path, Monty had to press himself against the broad tree trunk and shift carefully and quietly around it to keep himself out of sight. They passed within 15 feet of him, but he could do nothing with a gun held against Laura’s head.

He knew when they reached the truck, because he heard the door being opened. Ranny had removed the makeshift rifle sling during his unpleasant ride in the trailer compartment, but had stowed it in a coat pocket in case he needed it again. He fished it out of his pocket now, and told Laura to hold her hands together in front of herself. He quickly wrapped the rope around her wrists and tied a clumsy knot.

“There, that should keep you from trying anything. Now, get in the truck!” he said, putting his hand on the small of her back and pushing her towards the driver’s side.

With her hands tied, Laura found it hard to get up into the pickup’s cab and past the steering wheel. Awkwardly, she grabbed the top of the wheel with both hands and lifted one foot high onto the door sill, then pulled herself up and twisted sideways to slide all the way over against the passenger’s side door. Ranny forgot his anger momentarily to enjoy the sight of Laura’s legs, as her short fringed skirt rode up during this maneuver. The back of the skirt, too, tightened over her hips, and Ranny felt a sudden spasm of lust.

“Maybe when we get to Mexico” he thought, “I’ll just have a piece of that ass, and when she makes her way back here, she can tell her cowboy hero all about it. It’ll serve them both right”.

Then he boosted himself up behind the wheel, standing the M-16 up between his legs, and put the key he’d demanded from Monty in the ignition.

The only time Ranny had experienced driving a stick shift was when he was 16 and one of his schoolmates had taken pity on him. His mother had refused to teach him to drive, saying he could learn that when he was out of school and had a job. But the driving lessons were short-lived, because Ranny had trouble learning how to ease out the clutch while feeding the gas, and the car’s owner didn’t want his vehicle to need an new clutch or transmission. Ranny had bought his first used car with an automatic transmission, which he found much simpler to drive.

But now he was faced with a floor-mounted stick shift and a clutch. He drilled his memory to dredge up the early driving lessons, and shoved in the clutch with his left foot. He nudged the gas pedal, but the sudden loud noise from the dual exhausts intimidated him and he eased back to a fast idle. When he let the clutch out, he did it too quickly, and didn’t compensate by increasing the pressure on the gas pedal. Monty had not cranked up the trailer fully so that the big 4” ball in the middle of the truck bed truck was still partially in the mouth of the trailer’s attachment to it, which was a heavy vertical metal pipe which fitted over the ball. The combination of that horizontal load and Ranny’s inept driving resulted in the truck giving a sudden lurch and then stalling the engine.

“Damn it!” Ranny cursed. He kicked in the clutch again, pushed the gas pedal down so that the engine roared and the exhaust bellowed, and let the clutch out but a little more slowly. The increased power allowed the truck to start moving, but the trailer’s hitch was still catching on the truck’s hitch ball so the trailer was being pulled forward. Since Monty had cranked it up partially, the weight on the front was now supported by the two metal plates which formed the bottom of the jack stands. Those were now digging into the earth, putting such a drag on the pickup’s powerful engine that the truck’s tires stared to spin as it inched slowly forward.

Frustrated by the way the truck was acting, Ranny looked in the rearview mirrors and saw that the trailer was still behind them. He cursed again, more violently this time, and jumped out of the truck, taking the gun with him. He yelled back at Laura as he went to see what the problem was, “Sit right there until I see what’s wrong”.

A quick glance into the truck bed showed him the problem, and he cursed Monty long and hard as he furiously cranked the handle, raising the trailer well above the hitch ball. He jumped back in the cab, resting the gun again upright between his legs, and slammed the door. He repeated his actions, giving the truck a lot of gas, and letting the clutch out quickly. This time the truck shot ahead, unencumbered by the trailer.

But when it had gone about 3 feet, there was a horrible crash and screech of tortured metal, but the truck didn’t slow down this time. In his haste, Ranny had forgotten to lower the tailgate which Monty had also not lowered, and the trailer’s projecting hitch pipe caught it and ripped it from its hinges. Ranny saw in the mirror what had happened, but the tailgate had dropped completely off and was lying on the ground behind, so Ranny didn’t care about this mishap. Again, he cursed Monty, Laura hearing words she didn’t normally hear in the office environment she was used to.

Monty, meanwhile, was pressed against the side of the tree furthest from the truck. The headlights were shining directly toward him, and he didn’t dare move from his spot. He had to listen as he heard his truck being abused, and was chagrined that his earlier trick with the trailer hitch had not resulted in any advantage to the hostages. He winced when he heard the crash of the tailgate being ripped off, but he knew well what the cause was – this wasn’t the first time that a truck driver had neglected to lower the tailgate on a fifth-wheel hitch.

While waiting behind the oak, Monty had been desperately thinking of a plan to rescue Laura. It was a long shot, but his only shot, other than a suicidal attempt now to run to the barn and get his rifle. But his plan required utmost speed if it was to have any chance of success, so he ran through the sequence of steps he’d need to take, visualizing the exact movements required.

The light from the pickup moved away from his tree as Ranny swung it in a circle to head out the gate, taking himself and his hostage away. Monty knew he’d be intent on looking ahead, driving in this unfamiliar terrain, so he left his place of safety and crouching, ran towards the barn.