Chapter 11 Tuesday, 1900 hours (7 PM)

A one camera shoot is difficult. You can’t just dolly the camera into position, pull focus and wait for the little light in your viewfinder to go on telling you that your camera's live. No. With a one camera shoot, everything has to be planned. For Brian, the shoot was paramount. He'd have liked another cameraman working next to him, but since he didn’t, he’d just have to rely on his skill and training. He fixed his sight on the little video image on his rolling camera, and marveled at the quality of the equipment they had rented from Big Apple On Location. He had never worked with anything nearly this good. Acting now as both cameraman and director, he looked up at the wall clock, waiting for its second hand to sweep past 12. He gave the talent the ‘live’ sign and returned his attention to the viewfinder.

The talent, Joshua Cave was sitting where Brian sat until now. Wolf was at at his side. Joshua thought that it made for a good tableau and Brian agreed. Brian zoomed slowly in from the tableau to just Joshua and the desk, empty save for a telephone. Then very slowly he zoomed in on the talent for a tight head shot. Joshua looked dreamily into the camera and started to speak. He explained he was the Joshua Cave, the new CALF Chairman of Communications. He would be doing all the broadcasts and would be fully in charge of the negotiations with the authorities.

Brian, were he not concentrating fully on his job and hearing the words merely as sound, might well have been a little put out by Joshua’s titular escalation. Joshua had taken a casual agreement that he do tonight’s broadcast, and turned it into a chairmanship, presumably in perpetuity.

Joshua improvised, describing the reasons for Operation Zoo but drawing rather sharper lines than had Brian. He was interrupted by the arrival of the expected phone call from George, the negotiator. George calmly asked if Brian were well and, saddened that all his work on Brian might now be for naught, turned his attention to this new Chairman of Communications. They talked courteously, with the result that George knew he was dealing with a much more dangerous adversary. Knowing that, he decided on the usual serious hostage strategy; namely stalling for time, waiting it out, and at strategic times, throwing in a mild harassment. Here though, he couldn’t use the usual weapons in his harassment arsenal, that is turning off water and electricity. In the automated, climate controlled animal habitats, that would very quickly kill any animal inside. No matter, he had other weapons.

This was a unique hostage situation but George wasn’t particularly worried. More often than not, a situation like this, involving many people and complex organizational problems, would generally collapse under its own weight after a few days. He’d just have to proceed slowly and have patience.

Joshua understood the game. Knowing he could not tolerate the status quo, he escalated,

"It seems that none of our demands have been met," said Joshua softly. "If they haven’t been met by tomorrow morning’s broadcast, we may have to hurt a hostage."

At that point, Joshua’s video image jumped as a startled Brian, captivated by Joshua’s power of persuasive speaking, registered the meaning of the words. Brian, almost ignoring his camera, looked on wide eyed and disbelieving as Joshua and George calmly talked about actually hurting one of the hostages that Brian still sort of considered guests.

The session drew to a close. Joshua thanked George for his attention, and told how much he looked forward to talking with him again in the morning. He hung up the phone, moved his chair back, got up, and walked out leaving the camera with a view of his back. Brian followed the action the best he could and executed a quick fade to black.

"Hurt a hostage? What the hell are you talking about?" asked Brian, chairing the meeting.

After the broadcast, he had hastily called a special meeting of the CALF directorate. Joshua was invited also, although over the past few months, the term ‘directorate’ seemed to include Joshua anyway. There should have been a lot of people at this meeting but there were only eight. Others who should have been there were either on duty or were reluctant to give up any of their sleep time. Joshua on the other hand, didn’t seem to need sleep. Brian marveled at how Joshua could be found hanging around with the troops, most any time of day or night. Brian knew that people as they aged needed less sleep, but until now had not appreciated how useful that could be. Joshua now had quite a large personal following.

"Why are we here, and why are we doing this?" asked Joshua rhetorically. "Is it just to stage a protest, a gesture, get some publicity and then meekly surrender to let the police do what they will with us?"

Brian in fact, thought that was precisely why they were there, but he held his tongue.

Joshua went on. "No. We are doing this to effectuate change. We want the zoo closed. We want all zoos closed. What does it matter if we hurt a hostage or two for this end?"

"Like you hurt that little kid?" asked Evan sarcastically.

Joshua ignored him.

"This can be an historic point in our cause," Joshua went on, "We’ll be remembered as martyrs for animal rights."

Joshua was very persuasive. Even Brian who convened this meeting was being pulled around to Joshua’s point of view. Not so Evan.

"But don’t you have to die or something to be a martyr?" he said, looking not at Joshua but at his friend, Brian.

"No, not at all," said Brian, "not necessarily."

Evan found that answer not particularly comforting. He stood up. "Well, you guys can be martyrs if you want, but not me." He started for the door.

"You coward," said Jack with contempt.

"It’s not cowardice Jack, it’s just that I don’t like the idea of committing suicide."

"You’re just scared," said Jack.

"Sit down Evan," commanded Joshua. Startled at the tone, Evan halted, looked around, found Brian’s eyes, and sat down.

"I think most of us are in agreement," said Joshua. "Let’s end this meeting and get on with our work."

"You still haven’t answered Brian’s question, namely what do you mean ‘hurt a hostage’," said Evan calmly.

Brian who at that moment was toying with the romantic sound of the word ‘martyr’, came to Joshua’s aid.

"I’m don't think we’ll have to hurt any of the hostages," said Brian. "Let’s leave it until the morning. I’m sure the police negotiator, will be reasonable."

Evan bit his lip.

Joshua slowly stood, effectively bringing the meeting to an end. "Perhaps Evan and I should just have a little talk, with Jack too," he said walking over and putting his arm collegially around Evan’s shoulder.

Jack smiled.

"I think I’d better come along too," said Brian remembering the results of the ‘little talk’ with Mickey, and being a little concerned for his friend.

"Of course," said Joshua. "You certainly should be with us.

Evan looked a bit bewildered. He felt there was a sub-text to this conversation, but he had no idea what it was.

Chatting in a friendly way, Joshua under the pretext of needing a change of scene, and a private place to talk, casually maneuvered Evan out to a zoo cart. The four of them drove to the World of Darkness building and went inside.

They wandered around the habitats, stopping occasionally to watch and comment on the activities of the little nocturnal creatures. Most of the habitats in the World of Darkness were illuminated by red light. This color light was invisible to the animals, convincing them that it really was night. Around midnight, bright incandescent lights would come on. The animals, thinking it was dawn, would go to their dens and sleep. Now though, it was night, both outside the building, and within.

They continued their meandering, apparently without anything particular in mind, passing through a light blocking curtain into a new habitat. They faced a glass wall, behind which was a colony of cave bats. Here, the incandescent lights would never come on. Save for the dim red illumination, the simulated cave would always be dark.

Evan liked bats, theoretically at any rate. They were mammals and he was predisposed towards mammals. Looking at them however, he was aware that he was beginning to like them less. Watching those agile flying creatures with their out of this world faces, and their abrupt and unpredictable changes of motion, made him truly nervous. His nervousness was compounded by the fact that he had not yet had that little talk with Joshua. He had tried to engage Joshua in dialogue during their drive, but all attempts were deflected aside by inconsequential chatter. Even Brian had been uncharacteristically dour. As for Jack, you could never tell with Jack.

"These are Central American vampire bats," said Joshua gazing intently into the glass. It was almost as he were talking to the bats themselves. "Look at them. No aircraft could ever compete with these aerobatic marvels."

Joshua pointed to a small tray on a shelf at the back of the enclosure. "That's feeding tray. The liquid is blood." Joshua seemed enthralled. He broke his gaze away and looked directly at Evan. "Vampire bats truly drink blood. Usually from a cow or chicken. Sometimes, they find a farmer sleeping in the open. Then they drink from the big toe. You know, their teeth are so sharp that the farmer never wakes."

"I know about vampire bats," said Evan impatiently, wondering what Joshua’s point was or even if he had a point.

Joshua took no notice. "They don’t die, the victims of the bites, except occasionally the chickens. They don’t have all that much blood to give. Rabies is a problem though. A lot of these bats are rabid. You know they can carry rabies all their lives and not die of it."

Evan was beginning to think that the guy had really lost it, when Joshua spun around and looked him directly in the face."

"Take off your shirt," said Joshua.

"What?" answered Evan.

"I said, Take off your shirt," said Joshua again. "Now," he added.

Evan looked at him, uncomprehendingly.

"You have not been a team player, Mister Williams. I think we have to work on your behavior a little. As a punishment for that behavior, you will spend the night in the company of the bats. I’d advise you to not let yourself fall asleep."

"You’re crazy," shouted Evan. "Do you stay up all night thinking this stuff up." He looked to his Brian for help, but his friend averted his eyes.

Brian knew that he could not stand against Joshua, especially with Jack there to provide the muscle.

"Take off your shirt. I’m not going to ask you again," said Joshua.

Evan looked fleeting from face to face, then considered the possibilities for escape. Finding no sympathy and no escape, he took off his shirt.

"Now your shoes and socks please," said Joshua. "Don’t worry, we’ll let you keep your pants. I hope you learn something from this little object lesson."

Brian, hearing this began to comprehend that this ‘little object lesson’ wasn’t really for Evan, but for himself.

Evan complied with Joshua’s command and dumbly allowed himself to be led to the habitat keeper’s entrance. Somehow Joshua produced a key and unlocked the small access panel, proving that this punishment was premeditated. Evan stooped through the low door and heard the lock close behind him. He stared at the swarm of bats. They were squeaking excitedly, the way they did when their keeper came with more blood for them. Evan turned to look out the glass and saw that Brian, Jack and Joshua had gone.

Evan let himself slide down to a sitting position, head resting on his knees. He watched as a bat went to drink at the feeding tray. It looked eerie in the dim red light. Suddenly, the light went out leaving Evan in total darkness.

"Damn you," Evan shouted.

He waited for his eyes to dark adapt, but they didn’t. There was nothing to adapt to. The darkness was absolute. His hearing though, seemed now to be more acute. He was aware of flapping wings and high pitched squeaking. As much as would have liked, he could not stay rolled up in a ball al night. He had to uncramp his legs. He was scared and imagined, or hoped he was imagining, the touch of wings against the soles of his feet. He had to do something to keep his feet covered as they were the most distant part of his body. He decided he could cover them with his underwear, which would not cover them completely, but at least it would keep his toes covered. Unbuckling his belt, he shivered thinking how he’d be totally naked and exposed for a minute or so.

After rearranging his clothing to shield his toes, Evan started to analyze the situation. Even if he fell asleep and was bitten, it still wouldn’t be that bad. After Operation Zoo was over, they’d just have to kill the bats to see if they were rabid. An hour ago, the thought of killing the bats would have repulsed him. Now he was starting to hate the ugly things. Yes, they were ugly, and wings should have feathers, not fur or naked skin. Evan thought of his own naked skin punctured by scores of razor sharp incisors, drawing tiny droplets of his blood. This thought coupled with his blindness was enough to shut down the rational parts of his mind. Maybe he had really become blind. He fought the urge to scream or perhaps whimper, and rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms until he touched his watch. "I’m an idiot," he said aloud. His watch, a digital watch had a little light for showing the time in the dark. He didn’t use it much since it drained the battery, and the battery was long overdo for changing. "God, I wish I’d replaced the battery." He pushed the button and the illumination brought relief to his light starved eyes, and also provided him with a measure of the passage of time. Now maybe, he’d just have to concentrate on staying awake.

He tried to ration the light, but whenever he thought he felt a wing beat or heard a squeak too close, he pushed the button. After a while the light seemed to grow dimmer. At first he thought it was just his eyes accustoming themselves to light, but it rapidly became clear that the battery was giving out. Soon, there would be no light. Evan was just about to weep in frustration when he saw a faint illumination through the glass. Someone was coming his way with a flashlight. It turned out to be Brian.

"Brian, let me out. Please let me out. I can’t stand it, and I’m getting sleepy," Evan pleaded.

"I can’t Evan. I don’t have the key. Anyway, Joshua wouldn’t allow it."

"But you’re the president. You can tell people what to do. Order them to let me out. They’ll obey you"

Brian paused before answering. "But what if they don’t," he said.

Brian felt he had to go back before he was missed, but he agreed to leave the flashlight. He’d leave it turned on, sitting on the floor and pointing at the glass.

"In the morning, I’ll just say I forgot it," said Brian. They both knew that in the morning, the batteries would have been long dead.

When Brian’s departing footsteps could no longer be heard, Evan began to cry.

If only he had known that the bats were born in the zoo. They were not rabid and since they had always had ample fresh blood for them in their metal feeding tray, they knew no other way to feed. They did not bite.

Brian left the World of Darkness feeling terrible.

"For a friend of animals, Joshua is sure big on punishment."

When Brian got back to his TV studio, he found Roger alone, waiting for him.

"Brian, I’m not exactly nuts about your idea of hurting the hostages," said Roger softly.

"My idea? Rog, this is Joshua’s idea."

"and a pretty bloody rotten idea it is," said Roger, "but you are the president of CALF so it’s your idea whether you want it or not."

"I think Joshua just said it for effect," said Brian shaking his head, "I don’t think he’s going to hurt anyone. He couldn’t."

"I hope not," said Roger with some anger, "but anyway, If it looks like any of the hostages are going to be harmed, then we’re out of here. I’m speaking for all the Columbia Calfers."

"Fine," said Brian.

Roger, speaking as a friend, went on. "I know you’re not crazy about all this, but Brian, you tend to go with the flow. I’m afraid if bad things start to happen, you’ll ignore it and just keep your head down, carry on with your filming, and hope for the best. You could get really hurt that way, you know."

"I keep on top of it all," said Brian defensively, "I’m not entirely clueless, Roger."

Roger shook his head, muttered some unintelligible Australian expletive, and stormed off.

Also at Tuesday, 1900 hours (7 PM)

While Derek was fraternizing with the rest of the hostages and explaining that they’d soon have the dorm room for their own, Jeffrey was in that dorm room watching TV. Flipping through the channels, he came across Joshua giving his maiden broadcast. Mesmerized, Jeffrey watched the broadcast through to the end. When the screen faded to black he went to the door and opened it.

"Derek," he called in a small voice.

His father saw that something was wrong and hastened back into the small room with his son.

"What’s wrong, Jeffrey?"

"He was on television, one of the guys that hurt me."

"Come on," said Derek, ignorant of the CALF TV broadcasts.

"Really Derek, I saw him."

Derek looked at his son. It was certainly possible that CALF could manage that, especially considering all the TV gear they had.

"You’re sure?" Derek asked.

"YES!" insisted Jeffrey.

"one of the guys who hurt you?" probed Derek.

"YES!" said Jeffrey, "I hate him."

"Jack? the one that hit you?"

"No, the other one. His name is Joshua Cave. He’s the one that held me down while Jack hit me. I hate him. I think he likes hurting people."

"What did he say on TV?"

"He said he was going to hurt a hostage tomorrow."

Derek tried to size up his kid. Jeffrey was imaginative but it didn’t seem he was making this up.

"How is he going to hurt a hostage?" he asked.

"I don’t know. He said if the police negotiator didn’t do what he wanted, he’d hurt someone. What's a negotiator?"

Derek explained the word.

This changed things. Now instead of escaping only with his son, he’d have to convince all the hostages to escape with them.

"OK Jeffrey. You can watch TV for a few minutes. I’m going to back to talk to a few people in the other room. They might want to escape with us. Are you OK?" said Derek..

"Sure. Derek, are we going soon?"

"Yes, very soon."

Back with the other hostages, Derek learned that adversity not only could bring out the best in people, but also the worst. He walked to a central point in the room and raised his hands for attention.

"Excuse me people. I need to talk to you," he said softly so as not to be overheard by the guard outside the door. Derek made small gathering motions suggesting that people gather around. They did, though some walked with a slow diffidence as they had done quite enough at the orders of others. The hostages were tired and, perhaps as a result, were not at their best.

"Look, my son saw something troubling on his pocket TV," said Derek.

"What?" commented a hostage angrily, "The little brat has his own room, AND a TV."

Although not necessarily representing the mood of the group, that comment set the tone.

"Yeah," said another, "and he’d better get his ass out of there. I want one of those bunks."

"Well, I think the women should get the bunks," said a woman.

"Says you, sister," said a man in his early thirties who was affecting the Macho look.

"I’m not your sister, buddy, and who the hell are you anyway."

"My name is Reggie Foreman. Do you want to make something of it," he said poking his finger into her arm.

Derek tried to re-focus the dialog, away from discussions of accommodations.

"My son saw one of the people that beat him speaking on television. The guy said that tomorrow, he would probably have to hurt a hostage. My boy and I are going to escape tonight and I think that under the circumstances, all of you should come with us."

There was a moment of silence and then a woman spoke up,

"I don’t believe it. They’ve treated us pretty well. They’re nice kids, most of them. I’m staying here."

"So am I. There are lions on the loose out there, you know."

Derek pressed on. "Treated us pretty well? I don’t think my son would agree."

"The kid probably deserved what he got. Kids need a good hiding now and then."

A few hours earlier, the hostages felt sorry for Jeffrey while he was being beaten. Now, knowing he had essentially his own private room and a television set, they were able to rationalize away their compassion.

"Look, I’m not here to discuss child rearing," said Derek losing patience. "We’re going. If any of you want to come along, fine," he continued in a not overly friendly tone.

"Seriously," said another hostage. "What makes you think he’s not making it all up?"

"Because he didn't know what a negotiator is.."

"What?"

"Forget it," said Derek.

Derek looked from face to face. "OK, Is anyone coming with us?" he asked.

He turned and walked back to Jeffrey’s dorm room. No one came along with him.