Two dark colored sedans and three black SUVs pulled into the parking lot at 222 Saint Paul Place. Embassy Suites, thought Osborn. Who would have thought they’d be here, of all places?
The car skidded to a stop and Osborn was out running for the door. Bill Anderson jumped out and started giving orders to the others.
Red and blue lights flashed and sirens wailed as several police cars turned into the parking lot, and the officers started piling out. One approached Anderson, since he seemed to be directing the others, and asked what the FBI wanted them to do.
“Put two men on each exit door, now. Don’t let anyone leave without clearing with Agent Clark here.” He pointed to Jimmie. “If there are too many people at once, he’ll get help. But do what he says. I’m taking the SWAT team inside. Keep at least three men on the front door, plus two more inside, in the lobby.”
“Got it.” He moved away and started giving orders to other uniformed officers.
Osborn had already gone inside to the front desk. After showing his badge, he explained the situation and asked for help. He showed the desk clerk the key, and the clerk identified the room. He told Osborn the party had two adjoining rooms on the fourth floor. It was supposed to be a party of four people.
The clerk called hotel security. They wanted to go with the SWAT team to the fourth floor to help their hotel guests, if necessary. Osborn allowed them to go, but they had to stay back out of the way and let the FBI conduct the operation.
Osborn turned to Stephen. “Please stay here and watch all the guests coming off the elevators. See if you can recognize the man you described. If you do see him, point him out to the officers. Don’t try to stop him yourself. Okay?”
Stephen nodded his agreement. “I’d love to get my hands on this guy again, but I really just want to see him get caught. He needs to pay for what he did. And besides, I’m not up to tangling with a group of four of them.”
Two additional uniformed officers moved in front of Stephen. “We’ll be here in front of you, just off to each side. Let us know if you see this guy. Just point him out. We’ll take it from there.”
“Good enough for me,” Stephen replied. They moved to where they could watch the bank of elevators.
Two stairways led to the fourth floor. Osborn had men go up each stairway, while others took elevators. Reaching the fourth floor, one man remained at each stairway while the others formed at the elevator doors.
Osborn led five FBI men dressed in SWAT uniforms and tactical gear next to the first door. The discovered key would fit this door. The desk had provided a key to the adjoining room also.
One of the SWAT members listened at the door. They all could hear people talking inside the room. The SWAT leader nodded and motioned to one of the team members. He pulled out a monitor unit with what looked like a long hose attached to it. It had a silver metal tip with a built-in camera. He unrolled the hose and worked the end under the door. He checked the monitor. They were getting a picture. He moved the hose around, searching for people in the room.
They all heard loud laughter, then more subdued voices. It seemed that two people were doing most of the talking. More laughter. More talking. But nothing moved in the picture they watched.
The officer moved the hose again, pushing it further into the room. They could tell it was a two-room suite, but the hose camera couldn’t see into the back room where the sounds originated.
The officer pulled back the hose and put the instrument away.
The SWAT leader reached out to Osborn and took the room key. He looked around at each member of the team to be sure they were ready. No one made a sound. He nodded his head, and slowly inserted the key.
He checked each team member one last time, then pushed the key card down into the slot. It offered some resistance and moved slowly. He hoped it would not make a loud click. Stopping before it did, he backed away from the door.
He motioned to other team members standing further back. He signaled them to group at the door to the adjoining room. He wanted to go into both rooms at the same time.
The additional team members quietly stepped down the hall to the next room. The man with the hose camera went with them. They listened at the door. No sound. No talking. He pushed the hose beneath the door, checked for a picture, and inserted hose further, turning it to see what or who might be there. There were no suspicious shadows. Nothing moved.
He pulled the hose camera back and stepped away from the door. The leader of the second group looked back and nodded. They were ready.
The first team leader held up his fingers counting silently. One, two, three, GO. Both men slid the key cards into the locks, heard the click and quickly pushed the door open.
“Police! Police!” The shouts came from the groups in both rooms as officers charged into the space and dispersed, guns at the ready. “No one move! FBI!”
Osborn stood in the hall and heard the word shouted and repeated, “Clear. Clear.” He rushed into the first room. It was empty except for the SWAT members. He went to the back room. No one was there. The room was empty. The television had been turned on with the volume up, so it could be heard from the door to the hotel room. No one was there.
The officers lowered their weapons and breathed easier. There would not be a shoot-out in these rooms today.
“Okay,” Osborn told the others. “I want three men in each room to go over everything. Look for anything that would tell us who was here and where they could have gone. The rest of you get out. Go back to your office or wherever.”
He found a uniformed officer. “Let’s keep the officers downstairs on station for a bit. These people may still be in the building. Watch for them.”
He turned back to the FBI team. “Let me know if you find anything. I’ll be downstairs in the lobby.” He turned and took the elevator down to find Grant.
As he walked up to Grant, he said, “Well, Stephen, it looks like they made it out of here very quickly. We probably won’t find anything, but I have men searching each room. I take it nothing happened down here.”
“Not a thing,” Stephen replied. “A few people moving around, but no one that resembles our subjects.” He made a face and sighed. “No one.”