At one point we had Snevets surrounded in a library downtown. And not just with a unit this time. He was swarmed. We are talking Billy the Kid swarmed–at least 100 men. There were hostages inside so we were being extra cautious though. I’d never known Snevets to carry a firearm, but he was somehow controlling the library staff and the patrons inside. He had one standing in each window to prevent our snipers from getting off a shot. We called in to the circulation desk from our command tent outside. Snevets picked up. He sounded funny, but that was because we masked his audio with a filter so he couldn’t slow us down with his sonorous speech powers. We informed him there was no escape. He was surrounded by at least 100 men. He nonetheless persisted, claiming that no one would be hurt, and he would send a list of demands within the hour. I was cautiously optimistic. We had him dead to rights, but I also knew that being in a library would only fuel his powers.
After forty-five minutes, the front door of the library opened. A man hesitantly slid out, his arms raised with a note in his right hand. We searched the hostage list and identified him as Ramon Santo. Ramon yelled not to shoot. Our men lowered their weapons and a team of five SWAT members readied their shields. Ramon was pale, hardly breathing as he walked down the thirteen stone steps. As soon as he made the sidewalk, SWAT rushed forward to envelop him in shields and rush him away. Once the hostage was secured, I breathed deeply.
They brought Ramon to our command tent. He handed me a note in Snevets’ barely legible scrawl. His mastery of the powers of language did not somehow extend to his penmanship. The note demanded a car to the airport and a private jet to Havana.
Before I responded I questioned Mr. Santo, I asked, is Snevets armed? He said no. Ramon said Snevets had somehow subdued them all by playing some music over the library PA. After that everyone was scared but just complied with whatever order Snevets gave them. It was curious. What kind of music was it? Ramon wasn’t sure. All he gave us was that it was a woman singing. Before I could ask anymore questions, I heard shouts from outside the tent. I ran to the flap. Other hostages had started coming out. The first few cautiously and after that the rest hurrying to the safety of the surrounding officers. The lawn in front of the library was a chaos of SWAT and hostages. I yelled at the men to maintain their perimeter for all the good it did.
It took us a half an hour to account for all the hostages. What could Snevets be playing at? In another fifteen minutes, I organized the SWAT team to take the library. I told them not to shoot unless it was to save some hostage we weren’t aware of. We needed Snevets alive. I needed him alive–there are so many questions. I was tense. This was my moment, but I had been disappointed too many times to feel confident. In went the doors. The men rushed through. Within twenty minutes they’d cleared the whole building, ventilation shafts and all– no Snevets.
We huddled at the circulation desk with the floor plans. There was no way to explain this. I knew better though. I ordered a BOLO of the surrounding area and forensics to go through the library. I didn’t have any real hope though. Snevets was gone. Walking back to pack up the operations tent, I contemplated a handwriting analysis of Snevets’ list of demands since his power was so tied up with language. That might actually tell us something useful. However, back in the tent, the desk was empty. No note. I asked around, nobody had touched it. A thought flashed through my head. I laughed and dismissed it. No way, that’s too much, even for Snevets.
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