Welcome

[Surreal Brackwell]

Surreal strode around the police cruiser wondering why today of all days the world had to go to hell. First a murder, and now they had a man with hostages inside the courthouse demanding the custody of his little boy. He had to be out of his mind, because no sane man in this country would believe diplomacy could be held with a gun. She had been here all of five minutes when her phone began to ring. She knew that the results would not be pleasing but she switched the phone off rather than let it keep ringing. Her focus was for the job at hand and distractions would wait until after.

The plated windows were tinted to deal with the harsh light that came with summer rays, this was an inconvenience because it was her role to profile the man and get an understanding of how best to deal with him. Right now she could profile only through what she heard from those who had seen him, phone calls were brisk and he refused to speak with her, choosing one officer alone to be his mediator.

Surreal tightened the tabs on the side of her vest and turned to the officer beside her expression annoyed.

“How long do we have to wait?” she asked.

The officer shook his head, “The department is bringing in gun jocks, before they ask you to get down to work.” He looked past her at the building and Surreal could see the same desire she felt, the need to get the people in there out and the man responsible away.

Another officer approached this time holding out a phone to her. “Detective,” he said before murmuring the word perp.

Surreal brushed back lose strands of hair before taking the phone and putting it to her ear.

“This is officer Brackwell,” she said. “Jonathan is it? How are you managing?”

[Ian Walker]

From the time the chief had told him that Cynthia was one of the hostages in this courtroom hold-up, it had taken them a matter of minutes to get to a cruiser and head downtown. The conference and the sunny vacation were all forgotten in favor of helping his sister, and making sure nobody else got hurt. During the trip, he’d peppered the chief with questions about what he knew. Who was the kidnapper? How likely was he to act on his threat? Did he have a record before? Chief Hal said they didn’t know a lot yet, he’d just got the call, got a list of hostages, and went straight to Ian. He said his negotiator on site would know more when they got there.

Ian blazed through the station’s front office back to the armory, where he quickly got rid of his own shirt and tie in favor of a uniform, flak jacket, helmet, and a small arsenal of equipment. He examined his weapons particularly, instantly recognizing them. Glock 22 pistol, common standard issue for police forces and some militaries, it fired a common and cheap 9mm round. Heckler & Koch MP5, also a common submachine gun for special forces teams, similarly used the 9mm round.

Suited and geared up, Ian was introduced to his team, given an official briefing, and then they were off to the scene. It had been over a half hour now since they left the conference, and it was like they couldn’t get there fast enough. Still, they’d made really good time for a last-minute effort. Ian struggled to remember the names of his new team, going through them and repeating his list in his mind, occasionally clarifying with them. Aussies, all of them. It was kind of cool, Ian considered, how they sort of instantly fell into place.

The van pulled up in front of the courthouse, and Ian and his team filed out the back. He’d been told to speak to a detective Brackwell, and as he jumped out he took a look around. The first person he laid eyes on was a dark-haired female officer. Dressed crisply and professionally, she was, Ian noticed right away, extremely pretty.

“Excuse me!” he called to her. When she turned to look at him, he couldn’t help but notice the brilliant green eyes she had. For a fraction of a second he lost all sense of what he was supposed to be doing.

“I’m looking for a detective Brackwell, I’ve got a hostage rescue team here.”

[Surreal Brackwell]

It hadn’t been two minutes that the swat team had arrived after she had finished the phone call. The man within the building still refused to speak with her although it had been made clear that she was the one who could help. She was a woman and currently that made her someone to be angry with. She turned back to the building her eyes narrowing at the glass, she was putting the pieces together but it was slow going and the perp was his own worst enemy dropping road blocks in front of her each time she came up with a solution.

She decided there was something else she could do, but she knew her boss wouldn’t agree. That was fine she’d gone over his head before and gotten results, he’d only been mad for a week or two. She reached for the tabs on the vest and paused someone calling her name. She turned gave a slight look of irritation only to find herself looking again. The jacket seemed to essentuate the fact that his upper body was well formed and those eyes and the skin.... She closed her eyes and shook her head. Really this was not the time for her to be admiring, this was most unprofessional of her.

She opened her mouth and for a moment couldn’t form any words.

“You are?” she looked about like she was trying to find the officer, and then reddened. “Oh yes, I am officer Brackwell.”

She hadn’t seen him before, but while she did often work with SWAT it wasn’t as though people took hostages here every day. Perhaps he was new, or perhaps he just wasn’t on call when she was.

“Good timing,” she replied to the man and walked over to him looking away and seeking the sunglasses on the top of her head. She put them on rather than let him know that she was distracted.

“I am having trouble negotiating with the man inside, naturally he does not wish to speak with a woman as that is the cause of his ire. The officer he is negotiating with is not equipped for the task. This man is agitated and he has priors so our number one priority is to get the hostages out now. And so I wish to go in.... I do not like how things are going.”

[Ian Walker]

She looked around as if confused for a second, as if looking to point him to the right person. She must have misheard him or something, because she realized a second later that he was looking for a Miss Brackwell. And she was, in fact, Miss Brackwell. Ian nodded his head.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said, probably already seeming quite out of place with his hint of southern. After her initial confusion, though, she was all business, putting the sunglasses on (which was a shame), and explaining the situation. The suspect was apparently having an issue with talking to a woman, difficult since Brackwell was negotiating. Because of that, she didn’t want to take any more chances with him. She wanted to get in and get the hostages out. Ian thought of Cynthia, and nodded.

“Alright, I assume he’s got the main floor entrances barred, but there’s just one of him and he’s got a roomful of people to control. He can’t go far to check his flanks.” Ian examined the building, looking for a second-story window or somewhere else they could infiltrate from. “I don’t want to risk a door breach unless we’ve got a shooter on him.” He looked to Brackwell, again stuck for a moment by the prettiness of her features.

“Do you have eyes inside at all? Security cams? Anything?”

[Surreal Brackwell]

Surreal hesitated at his accent American was it? She had never been there and although Celeste was a melting pot for many cultural backgrounds she couldn’t say she’d ever spoken to anyone from America before. Her own family were a mix of Macedonian and Irish, Surreal had taken on her father’s accent, and the refusal to use contractions was from her upbringing. Her mother refused to allow any easy form of English, prim and proper was what young ladies were. Anyone one else according to her was a tramp. She wondered often how it was that both Annabelle and mother used them...

The hostage situation, oh yes.

“A pleasure yes,” she replied her voice remaining cool and professional. Under other circumstances she believed it would have been.

“Yes,” she agreed. “However we require him not to know I am going inside. If he knows that I am being dishonest he might harm the people within the building. This is court day and so there would have been police officers in the building I wonder what may have happened to them...”

She looked back toward the building putting a hand on her hip. She noted Ian was looking up and her face twisted into a grimace, she hoped he was not going to make her go up. She could not do that, swat officers were natural dare devils and athletes Surreal was more at home interviewing or writing out reports. If he had her go up there she’d most likely fall and then they’d probably scrape her off the pavement and send her to daddy for an autopsy. She wasn’t sure she could do that to her father.

“Yes of course the court has cameras he has severed the one within the main foyer and i believe that is where he is holding hostages. The upper floors all have functioning cameras.”

While he was looking up Surreal slid the sunglasses down her nose slightly and looked again. Yes this was quite a nice view. An officer walked past her nudged her shoulder and laughed. She turned to glare at him. Could this day get any more bizarre.

“What if I simply walked up and offered myself as a hostage? It has worked before for other officers. I believe that he may well agree to the terms.”

[Ian Walker]

Ian shook his head.

“Ma’am, sending you in there would only end us up with one more hostage to come in after. It would put you in unnecessary danger. The only way I’d consider doing that is if he thought you were valuable enough to give up a few of his other hostages.” Ian bit his lip and returned his gaze to the building.

“I don’t think the other cameras will give us much to go on, either.” He turned to his new team. “Compton! Optics under the front door, I wanna see what he’s got going in there. Jons, see if you could get a shot through one of the side windows.” The officers nodded, one going to set up the small fibre-optic camera that would let them get a limited look around, and the other moving crouched toward the side of the building. Ian looked back at Detective Brackwell.

“I know I don’t have official backing to offer this, but if you want I can try to talk to the guy? Might buy us a bit of time, and he might be more reasonable.” It was her call, of course. He was just visiting, and his official duty here was to get the hostages out. He knew he had to treat this like any other case, even with Cynthia inside.

[Surreal Brackwell]

Surreal frowned and held up a finger. “Yes of course I would become a hostage, however I would be there to talk him around from the inside. I am confident that I can.”

She wanted him order his team and the sprung to life moving to fore fill the tasks he set for them. She felt a little disgruntled that he had his own ideas. Surreal could share a work load, but she did things her way, which was why Hal had never given her a partner.

She tapped a finger on her cheek time was running out here. She took in a deep breath and nodded.

“Do not think I often make acceptances for this sort of thing, he is a man however and he may relate better to you... If I could just...”

She was cut off by Hal who strode toward them holding a radio in his hand.

“We have an update,” he said nodding to Ian and then looking back at Surreal. “You’re going to love this Brackwell the boy has asthma and he needs medication a uniform has to deliver. What do you both want to do here?”

Surreal turned back to look at eye her chin tilting up defiantly. “I guess I should get changed. This is the perfect opportunity for us to get inside. While I am distracting him is it possible you could somehow also get inside? I will have no weapons or jacket.”

[Ian Walker]

She considered it and was about to agree to his offer to chat up their kidnapper when Hal’s presence interrupted. They had new info on the boy: apparently he was asthmatic, and the perp was demanding meds for him. It was a good opportunity to get someone in there, and it was a demand they’d have to meet anyway, as it was in their own interests. The boy had to come out of this unscathed. Ian looked at Surreal who kept the proud, determined set of her face. She was going in, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop her.

“Alright, fine, here’s what we’ll do. First of all, Sergeant, I’d recommend seeing if we can’t get a hostage out of this. If the man’s concerned enough about the boy, he might give us a freebie without thinkin’ too hard.” Ian sensed movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Compton striding away from the building and back toward them.

“Windows are a bit high; we’d need ladders for a full extraction.” The SWAT officer pointed at the next building down. “There’s a fire escape around back there that’d get a good view into the building. I’d recommend a shooter there.” Ian nodded, and a moment later Jons arrived with his own report.

“Hard to see much from the front foyer, sir, but looks like he’s taking charge from the dais up in front where the stand is. He’s keeping everyone in their seats.” Again, Ian gave a nod of acknowledgement.

“Alright, Surreal?” he turned back to the dark-haired officer, caught again for a moment by the beauty of her features. He realized too late that he’d called her by her first name. “Officer Brackwell, I’m going to set up across the street. When I get a shot, I’m going to wound him. I need you to disarm him. Let’s get an ambulance out here and standing by.” He looked back to the two members of his team.

“I want you to get step ladders outside those windows, and be ready with smoke grenades. If something goes wrong, I’ll give you guys a go.” He looked at Surreal again.

“Everyone clear?”

[Surreal Brackwell]

Hal nodded his head, “I’m on it.” Surreal chewed her lip for a moment watching his back. She listened to Ian’s men report in on methods, but her mind was focusing on her on role the acting she would have to do. What would the perp do if he figured out Surreal wasn’t a constable. She would act fresh that would be a good route and then introduce mediations slowly and innocently. Guide him in.

Her head snapped back toward Ian when he spoke and she began unbutton the tailored suit jacket she’d been wearing and slipped it from her shoulders. She paused with her hands over a button when her thoughts wandered and she realised he’d called her by her first name. Something with him shirtless and saying her name while... she shook her head as her mind raced into a scenario that she realised was certainly fanaticising and would not happen.

What about work! Ah yes this situation was serious and thinking about a tumble in bed she would probably never take was not on the list of priorities.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and reddened. The more she tried to calm herself the more embarrassed she managed to get herself.

She inclined her head and turned to a passing officer. “have the ambulance on standby constable Ellis.”

The female officer nodded and set off at a jog.

“Clear,” she said with a nod. They didn’t have time to argue on what to do and she felt confident with Ian in charge. I need to change. She looked back at Ian and walked away taking the sunglasses and folding them before slipping the arm of one side into her blouse.

The large Bear Cat became Surreal’s makeshift change room and she smiled dressing in the uniform it had been a long time since she’d worn the compulsory blue uniform. Stepping out she approached Ian holding up a wire to him.

“Would you assist me?” she asked loosening a button on the blouse. So the wire could be set in the chest region. “I would be more comfortable knowing that you can hear as well as see me.”

[Ian Walker]

The thoughts that flitted through Ian’s head when she started to unbutton her suit jacket were definitely non-work-related thoughts. The blouse she wore underneath fit her form well, and flattered it without being blatant. Unfortunately, that just sort of caused Ian’s imagination to go into overdrive. As her hands paused over a button, he tried to get his own thoughts back on the situation at hand. What was going on here?! They were in the middle of a high-risk op with his sister as one of the hostages, and here he was wondering what color a pretty detective’s bra was.

She mumbled an apology, and Ian answered reflexively…mostly to unconsciously cover the fact that he’d lost just as much focus.

“Naw, it’s aight,” he said. Surreal ordered the ambulance in place, and then headed off to get change. She looked at him over her shoulder as she removed the sunglasses, and his eyes were glued to hers for another moment.

Damn, boy! Eyes on the road, here. He turned back to Compton.

“Bring me the rifle,”

“Yes sir.” A moment later he had the Super X-9 in hand and was loading it up. The bolt made a satisfying series of clicks as he loaded up the first round. Officer Brackwell came out a few moments later, fully set up in a blue constable’s uniform. She looked pretty in that, too. She came right up to him, with a covert speaker-wire in her hands, and a request for assistance.

“Uh, sure,” Ian said, feeling a small rush inside as she unbuttoned the blouse a little, revealing just the barest hint of cleavage. He could feel the heat burning in his face as he took the wire from her, brushing the fabric open a little more to stick the device to her chest. Similar but slightly different movements would have had him slowly working on the next few buttons.

Instead, he exercised some restraint, and did up the button that she’d undone, covering up the wire.

“All ready to go,” he hesitated a fraction of a second as he almost called her ‘Surreal’ again. “Detective?”

[Surreal Brackwell]

Surreal took a breath and nodded to herself this was fine and she could do it, she was a Brackwell and they could do anything they set their mind too. If she screwed up she let down the swat team, she let down the VCA, she let her family down, and she let herself down. She swallowed. No she would not let anyone down because she was going to come through with flying colours just as she always did.

Officer Walker took the wire from her and for a brief moment their fingers brushed. She thought perhaps she saw look nervous, but why would he? He would be use to the application of these sorts of items. This entire thing, whatever it was, had been born of her imagination. She wanted to psychoanalysis herself there on the spot and then chastised herself for again letting her focus slip. Perhaps she had become lonely, but it was a subconscious feeling. Perhaps she was just doing what any normal woman would do, she had simply found the wrong time for it.

His hands gripped her blouse and for a moment her eyes were glued attentively to his face. Her hands seemed at a loss for what they should be doing and she resisted the urge to put hers on his and have them stay. Instead she laced them behind her back and stood straight allowing herself to tilt her chin up. Oh but it was hard to look like his placing the wire did not bother her. He redid the button on her shirt and she looked away licking her lips, her face flushed.

He asked if she was all set and she managed to look around the other officers had receded to the shelter of vehicles and in the pocket of the blue slacks she felt the lump of the puffer she was to take to the boy.

“Yes I believe I am,” she replied. She opened her mouth to wish him luck and closed it again. He was a swat officer he didn’t need luck and she’d spoken with Jons before who’d scorned her for trying to jinx him with luck.

Oh please, she thought to herself. do not let me get shot.

She was already moving Officer Walker was no longer where he had been standing. She felt naked and vulnerable without her holster and the reassurance of a hand gun. Surreal took a breath, focused, and raised her hands taking the steps slowly. On the other side of the glass she saw the man holding a young woman with curly hair next to him that could have been officer Walker’s sister, if he had one. Her brown eyes were wide the offendent pressing the muzzle of a colt handgun to her head.

The woman opened the door with shaking hands after several attempts of trying to flick up the lock. The man waved Surreal on and she stepped over the doorway with her hands still raised. She moved away from the door, becoming intensely aware of the wire pressed to her chest. It brought nausea to her and she reminded herself this was normal, she had been here before. It was just that she hadn’t been allowed into such a tense situation since the promenade. She closed her eyes and opened them again.

“Well! Where is it?” the man barked at her.

Hands shaking Surreal reached for the pocket of the slacks and the gun swung trained on her chest.

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” he asked his tone stunned. He waved the gun upward. “Keep them up.”

Surreal obliged. He stepped forward and her breath caught in her throat. His hands touched her waist first one hand grabbing, fingers digging in and yanking her forward. He held the gun out pointing it at the burrnette.

“Please don’t hurt her,” the woman said her tone sickened. Surreal looked to her letting the man pat her down trying to appear reassuring. Like this was a normal event.

He muttered to himself about how unfair it was that he had to deal with women.

“And now just to top it off they send me a bitch cop,” he muttered.

Surreal’s stomach turned but she remained still focusing only on the woman.

“I am only here to help you sir,” she reassured the man. “We only want the best outcome for everyone.”

Her gaze slid back to the man he turned away from her and ran a hand over his hair in frustration.

“Just shut the fuck up,” he snapped. “Now walk.”

He hesitated looking up to the television mounted in the corridor when he noticed the female hostage doing the same thing. They both looked back at Surreal and she put her hands up taking a step away and staring at her own image on the screen. This was unexpected it was also bad, very bad.

“Let us look at this in perspective before you make any brash choices,” Surreal said.

The man’s eyes narrowed, “It’s too late for that someone already did. Stupid pigs always think they know what’s best.”

The woman cried out and tumbled down and for a moment Surreal thought he’d shot her, but there had been no bang. She understood that a man made insane by rage, was more dangerous than a man simply angry. The woman scooted back and then man lunged forward catching her by the throat and shaking her before jamming the pistol up against her head.

Her breath hitched and she blinked a wheeze of breeze forced from her. Her mind became a cascade of thoughts, of fears. The promenade, the place she couldn’t go without remembering what had happened to her what she said wouldn’t happen again, what others promised her.

No one will ever put their hands on your throat like that again, Hal had promised. He’d lied.

She had no hand gun no way to respond. A carefully aimed elbow to the breast bone was not a quick as a bullet to the brain.

The woman was crying in the background her form a blurry heap on the ground. A boy! She could see a boy. Hear him begging for the man to stop, for his daddy to stop. She couldn’t speak and even if she could she could find not words, no soothing tone to woo the man out of his rage.

“Prison,” she croaked and he shook her again.

“Shut up! Just shut up and tell me right now what they’re doing out there.”

He used the back of his gun to wipe tears from his eyes. “How bad is the shit I’ve gotten myself into. What do I do? What do I do now?”

[Ian Walker]

He tried to ignore the way those green eyes of hers settled on his face as he adjusted her blouse to get her wire attached. It was supposed to be work. It was supposed to be impersonal and routine. It wasn’t like he’d set a woman up with a wire before. But…those eyes of hers were like bedroom eyes. And the thoughts of how this might go differently if they were alone in a dim room were tantalizing. Particularly when she licked her lips nervously.

But within seconds the moment was done, and they moved on, and the heat of the situation settled back on both of them. She replied affirmative, that she was good to go.

“Alright. See you soon, detective.” He gave her a smile of reassurance. She was incredibly brave to go in there volunteering to run interference for them and be an ear on the inside, and Ian admired her for that. Even if she was a cop and it came with the territory, she was still putting herself on the line. Meanwhile, Ian had to make sure he was ready to cover her. He hefted the rifle again.

“Jons, how we doin’?” he asked his teammate.

“Almost set, sir. You better get in position.”

“You got it.” He moved quickly, moving across the blocked-off street to the brick building beside the courthouse. Slipping into the alley behind the buildings, he located the fire escape ladder and climbed it easily with one hand while gripping the rifle with the other. He came to the first landing, and glanced across the street. Perfect vantage point from here. He proceeded to set up the rifle on a tripod on the base of the metal platform. He poked the muzzle of the gun through the railing, nudging it up against the metal to increase its stability.

When he was in a good firing position, he looked through the scope. Field of fire was good. He reached up and tapped the earpiece he wore, beginning to hear everything Surreal heard. The first thing was a harsh male voice asking Surreal if she thought he was stupid.

“Actually, yeah…” Ian whispered to himself, watching them through the scope. His heart caught a bit when he saw Cynthia was there, too, being used as leverage in case anyone tried anything funny. Their bad guy was patting Surreal down, and not being gentle about it. He heard Cynthia’s voice, and incoherent rumbling from the perp. His voice was breathy and nervous, and he was focusing it as anger at the world. It was the only way he could continue to go through with this.

Surreal told him plainly they were there to help, and he wouldn’t have any of that. At about that time, Ian lost track of what had happened, but something agitated the desperate man even more. Cynthia screamed, but there had been no shot fired. A second later, the man was lunging for Surreal reaching for her throat. When they tumbled to the floor, they dropped out of sight beneath the window sills.

Ian swore, took up the rifle and lunged for the metal stairwell on the fire escape scaffolding. He leapt up to the next level, touching his radio.

“Jons, you move in as soon as you hear my shot, clear?” Jons acknowledge, and Ian set the gun on top of the railing, now looking down and into the building. The angle was perfect, but he still had to wound the guy without killing him and without harming Surreal. He waited, desperately trying to control his breathing, as the muffled sounds of Surreal’s pained gasps and the perp’s venomous rantings sounded in Ian’s ear.

The perp shifted positions, and Ian sighted a path from the rifle’s muzzle, into the window, through the guy’s shoulder, and harmlessly into the floor. He let out his breath, searching for that moment of complete calm.

His finger squeezed the trigger. Ian saw a red stain spatter onto the floor, and then smoke filled his sights as the rest of the SWAT team moved in to secure the building.

[Surreal Brackwell]

For the second time in her life lying on the floor Surreal was certain she was going to die. The circumference of the guns muzzle seemed to burn its brand into her head. The perp eyes had become stony and she knew what ever chance she’d had to stop him had passed. The world had wronged him and he wanted what he felt for now was an acceptable form of judgement. Her faith in the SWAT officer was replaced with a morbid sense of fate.

Yes, perhaps this was what had been meant for her all along.

“You’ve done this, this is your fault,” he shouted but the words weren’t for Surreal. He moved kneeling and twisting to look over his shoulder at one of the court rooms.

She could have moved, could have kicked out, but terror had frozen her into place. His hand still held her throat and for a moment the fingers dug in, preparing to lift her and slam her head against the ground. Shooting her would have been kinder.

He jerked suddenly a gasp escaping him and for a moment she wasn’t quite sure what had happened until the patter of blood. Crimson blossomed against the floor and against the light blue blouse of the constables uniform. She felt a few fine dribbles trace her face and her skin crawled. She felt the urge to scream rise in her throat. The man flopped to the side hitting the tiles his gun clattered out of his hand and he screamed.

Surreal stood and snatched up the weapon cocking it at him man. Her hands caught his shirt turning him and putting his arms behind his back. He didn’t struggle and her face softened at hearing his sobs, hearing his little boy cry somewhere behind her.

Her voice took on a monotone reading him his rights her eyes clouded. Somewhere behind her noise erupted but she kept her eyes on the man, on what she was doing. She was frightened, if she turned, if she opened herself up to what she was doing she thought she would breakdown.

Hands caught her shoulders reaching under and pulling her up and back. The smell of wood, spice cologne mingled with the metallic tang of blood.

“Surreal, it’s okay. Surreal,” Hal called he tried to hold her but she pushed away. She was alive, but she had let him down, she didn’t deserve his soothing. The woman from before was on her feet and before Surreal could avoid her she came over to her and hugged her Surreal’s eyes widened and with hesitance she touched the woman’s back before drawing away from her.

“Get me DCP,” Surreal barked. “Is the mother around here somewhere?”

Her breath was still coming too quick and she struggled to control herself. She caught sight of officer Walker and found herself unable to look away, right now she appreciated him more than she could ever tell. A strained smile of thanks touched her lips before she turned her head to watch two uniforms drag the gunman to his feet and out of the building.

[Ian Walker]

Ian didn’t wait to see how the ensuing raid went. He’d made the shot, and the rest was up to his team and Surreal. They had the building completely filled in a matter of seconds. His earpiece in, Ian could hear the noise, but not so much as a word from Surreal. Her former assailant, however, was loud and clear, now howling in pain. The round would have gone clean through his shoulder, and it would hurt like crazy. With the ambulance right outside, however, he could get patched up fairly quick.

Then he’d have to face charges. And after that, he might have wished that Ian had killed him. He definitely would not be able to convince the court to have custody over his son after this. Ian felt sorry for him in a way. But he knew that he’d made all the choices that led up to this.

The situation had been mostly diffused by the time Ian climbed down the escape back onto the street, and it didn’t take him long to do so. Ian handed the rifle off to Compton, who stood in the door, and went right in, looking for Cynthia. He saw her and Surreal in a light embrace, and when the broke away, he met those big green eyes of Surreal’s again. They weren’t quite as steady or sure as they’d been when he first met her outside. She was shaken a bit by this, he could tell.

He gave her a smile and a nod, and a second later his attention was on Cynthia, and the two of them were locked in a considerably tighter hug.

“Girl, didn’t I tell you this whole law-school social-workin’ thing was too boring for you?” He chuckled, but held her tight, comforting. “Ain’t hurt, are ya?”

[Cynthia Walker]

Cynthia trembled when the woman broke away from the hug. She didn’t know a whole lot about hostage situations, but she knew when something scary happened she wanted a hug. She had thought the woman would too. The woman however seemed more preoccupied with her work but Cynthia wasn’t a fool she could tell she was upset, it was a woman thing. She didn’t miss when her brother came in, the look between Ian and the female officer. Their eyes seemed to lock then break away the woman’s trailing her brother’s body before she moved to squat down beside the young boy and speak to him.

Cynthia turned to Ian and threw herself into his arms. She couldn’t help bursting into tears this had to be the scariest thing she had ever been through. If someone said this would happen to her a couple of days ago she would have laughed, America sure, but not here in Australia almost nothing bad ever happened in Australia.

“Oh Ian I was so scared,” she leaned back and wiped her eyes. Looking past Ian she noticed the female officer watching with a look that seemed almost jealous. When she caught her gaze she turned back to the boy again then stood and straight backed walked out of the building.

“He hit me a little, but it was a shock more than anything,” she replied letting her attention draw back to her brother. “I think I was lucky.”

She smiled and brightened up, she wanted Ian to see that she was brave and she was okay, more than anything she was just happy to be alive and to see her brother. A change of subject seemed the right way to go.

“Never mind me, who’s that girl you were all eyes for, I saw you looking,” Cynthia said she nudged Ian and hiccupped over the remnants of a sob. “She don’t seem to mind it either in fact she was checking you right out.”

A police officer stepped over he looked tired and a little weathered, but he smiled and patted her shoulder.

“I apprieciate your brother’s assistance,” he said. “You should be proud of him, today he saved a life. It’s just too bad she’s not about to say thanks.”

Cynthia waved a hand, “she probably doesn’t mean nothing by it, I think she was just scared. Her eyes, the look there I really thought he was going to pull that trigger.”