No Man's Land Read Online Free Page B

than a blur. It was as if her life had
begun in that awful moment when the phone rang and the cold clear
voice informed her that her daughter’s body had been found. In that
minute of time, the previous twenty-seven years of her life had
disappeared, leaving her only with the here and now.
    To Brian, living in Hollywood was a
B-movie. Low production values and bad dialogue. A place where
everything was big but nothing was real. He’d reestablished his law
practice and was doing quite well, but he’d never taken to Los
Angeles. Not from the first day, when they’d moved into that rental
house in West Hollywood. Not for the past seven years, as the show
grew in popularity and Melanie became a household name. None of it
mattered to him. All of it just left him feeling empty and
unsatisfied.
    And then there was the matter of
children. Brian wanted to have some more. Melanie wasn’t ready.
Wasn’t ever going to be ready. They both knew it, but neither of
them had said it out loud, like so many things left unsaid these past
few years. And then . . . like an alley cat thrashing his way out of
a bag, the great unspoken phrase burst out into the air.
    “I’ve had it with this place. I
want to go home,” Brian said.
    “Home?”
    “Michigan.”
    “You can’t be serious. This is
our home.”
    He got to his feet. “I spoke with
my dad tonight. He’s finally gonna retire. I can take over his
practice. We’ll be fine. Better than fine. We can—”
    “I can’t leave here. There’s
nothing back in Michigan for me.”
    His eyes held hers now. “Then we’ve
got a problem.”
    “I’m in the middle of
negotiations for a new show. I’m—” She stopped herself and
began to massage her temples. “Not now, Brian . . . please, not now
. . .”
    “There’s never going to be a
better time,” he said. Melanie began to sputter out a denial but
stopped herself.
    “I can’t believe I’m hearing
this,” she said finally. “There’s no way I can possibly . . .”
    The phone rang. It was as if a
stranger had entered the room. It rang again, and then a third time
before Melanie reached down and picked up the receiver. “Yes.”
    “You wanted fresh content well . .
. I’ve got it for you, baby,”
    her producer, Martin Wells, blurted
into the phone.
    “It’s late, Martin,” she said
with a sigh. “And it’s really not a good time.”
    He ignored her. “I’ve got the
first unit on the way to Arizona as we speak. They’ll be set up and
good to go by morning.”
    “What’s in Arizona?”
    “Just the biggest prison riot in
U.S. history. Prisoners have taken over the supposedly escape-proof
prison. They’re armed with automatic weapons. The governor’s
called out the National Guard. There’s a hell of a fight brewing.”
    “Are you talking about that place
where they send the worst of the worst. Meza somethingorother?”
    “Meza Azul. Yep, that’s the one.”
    “Are they holding hostages?”
    “Something like a hundred and fifty
of them.”
    She started to speak, but Martin
Wells cut her off. “Here’s the good part. You know who’s
leading this riot? Who’s turned out to be in charge?” He didn’t
give her time to answer. “Guy named Timothy Driver. Name ring a
bell?”
    “The navy captain. Guy who shot his
wife and her lover.”
    “Know what he wants? What he says
he’s going to shoot one hostage every six hours over until he
gets?”
    “What’s that?”
    “He wants Frank Corso delivered to
him at the prison.”
    “The writer?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “How long before the first
deadline?”
    “Just under two hours.”
5

    “Can you zoom in? Can you get his
badge number?” Elias Romero reminded himself to relax and not
breathe into the microphone.
    “He’s too deep in the shadows,”
the CNN cameraman yelled over his shoulder. “I can’t get anything
from here.”
    “I don’t believe it,” somebody
whispered from the back of the van. “You think he’s really gonna
do