The black cars rolled to a halt, and heavily armoured cops climbed out. The previously deserted street became a hive of activity. Orders were given swiftly, and uniforms were dispatched to set up barricades on both ends of the road. The Strategic Response Unit had arrived.

The remainder of team 1 gathered around Sergeant Greg Parker, listening to his instructions and interrupting only with nods and assents. Everyone knew what was at stake.

"I know this is personal guys, but we can't let it cloud our judgement. We play it by the book, and we get them out of there alive. Jules, Wordy, you're alpha team. Spike, you're my second. Lou, you'll be less lethal with team 3 when they get here."

Nods all round was the order of the day before Greg resumed.

"I want blue prints, and reports of any bank robberies in the area. I want to know who these people are. And I need the CCTV footage… Spike?"

"I'm on it Sarge," Spike replied, and true to his word he ducked inside the Mobile Command Unit.

As the various team members departed to their tasks, Greg allowed himself a moment to take a breath. Team 3 were gearing up and would be there within 20 minutes, but he knew he needed to make contact before then. Staring across at the cold brick walls of the bank, he wondered how the people inside were faring. He wondered if Ed and Sam were alive. When Winnie had heard the robbery in progress, team 1's shift had been over for quarter of an hour. But not one of them even waited to be asked if they wanted the call out; they'd been ready to leave before Winnie had finished giving the report. They were a good bunch; he was proud of them.

"Sarge, I've got the camera feed," came a voice in his ear piece, and he ducked inside the command unit with Spike. Inside the cramped vehicle, the other SRU man was bent over a monitor, and threw a brief glance over his shoulder at the sergeant before returning his focus to the screen.

"They've sent over the footage for the last 15 minutes." Nothing more was said, and nothing more was necessary. The two men watched the footage of the entrance in silence, broken only by Spike's muted curse as he watched Braddock struck down. Greg turned his attention away from the footage; he knew Spike would tell him anything he needed to know.

"Restrict that search to robbers working in teams of four – this isn't their first job," he instructed his second, and then, on the radio:

"Team, we have four hostiles, multiple hostages, including Ed and Sam. Braddock is injured, possibly unconscious, but not shot. Repeat, he is not shot. Alpha team, are you in position?"

"Alpha team in position," came Jules's voice over the radio, not betraying the emotion she felt, the fear that Sam was badly hurt. "No solution."

"Copy," he replied. "I'm going to make first contact."

He adjusted his headset, and pressed a button on the switch board, dialling the bank's number, as Spike spoke into the auto transcriptor.

"18:19, Sergeant Parker begins the negotiations."

As the phone rang in his ear, Greg watched the live feed from the CCTV, and silently urged the gunmen to pick up.

Inside the bank, the most mundane sound sent the perps into a panic. Green spun round to the phone, then hurried to the door, looking out before ducking back inside.

"Cops!" he called, which brought a rush of curses from the others. Blue stalked towards Ed, pointing his gun down at the cop.

"What did you do?" he demanded, a look of vengeance shadowing his eyes.

"Leave him, we don't have time for that," Green urged. In response, Blue kicked the captive cop in the ribs. Ed grunted, rolling with the blow, and fighting against his instincts to strike back – he was too badly outnumbered.

"Answer me!" Blue shouted at him.

"He's right, there's no time," came an authoritive voice from behind, sparing Ed from answering. Red was back from filling the bags, which he now abandoned by the counter.

"Take a hostage, check for another way out. I'll stall for time. Green, keep an eye on the hostages; Black, watch the cops out the front. Don't let them get too close."

A relative calm settled over the group, but for one woman who was reluctantly dragged away by the disgruntled Blue in search of an escape route. It was only then that Red picked up the phone.

Greg had been beginning to think that there would be no answer, when the ringing stopped and was replaced by the sound of breathing. Pausing for just a beat, he began talking to the unknown subject on the end of the line.

"Hello, my name is Sergeant Greg Parker, I'm with the Police Strategic Response Unit. Am I talking to the man in charge?"

"You're talking to the man who has 12 hostages including 2 cops," growled the voice on the other end. "You try to come in here and people are gonna get hurt."

"Nope, no, we're not going to do that," the negotiator reassured him. "We just want to end this peacefully, so we can all go home."

"So you can go home, we go to jail," Red replied, unimpressed.

"I'm not going to lie to you, you're in a lot of trouble," Greg agreed. "But if you co-operate, if you put your weapons down and come out, things will go a lot better for you in the long run."

There was a hesitation before the hostage-taker's response came.

"We need time to think about it."

We. It suggested that there was no one person in command, that every member of the team had a say. That could be good or bad, depending on how the negotiations went. If the man he was talking to escalated and refused to talk, he could go through another of the team.

"That's ok," Greg was quick to agree. "I can understand that. No-one's going to rush you. Why don't we slow things down a little? What's your name?"

"You can call me Red."

Greg covered his mouthpiece and spoke quietly to Spike.

"Red… see if you can find the significance." He uncovered the mike and continued his dialogue with the subject.

"Ok Red. I need you to do me a favour, while you're thinking. I need you to tell me if any of the hostages are hurt. Can you do that?"

"They're fine. One of the cops got a bump on the head for playing the hero, but he's fine. For now," came the voice, sounding a little defensive – he was expecting trouble over Sam's injury, but there was no remorse – he would do it again if he had to.

The implied threat was not lost on Greg, but at least "Red" was being honest with him. Now that it was out in the open, Sam's injury would not act as a barrier between them.

"Thank you. I'm glad you were able to tell me that, and I'm glad that no-one was badly hurt, because that's going to go in your favour." Greg's voice by comparison was sincere, non-threatening, and intended to reassure. The next threat was considerably less sublime.

"If you want to keep it that way, you better move your men back – I don't want anyone within 50 feet of this bank. One inch closer and people start dying."

Red had spotted the arrival of team 3, and he didn't sound happy about it.

"Ok, I'm going to start working on that…" The line went dead. With a sigh, Greg pushed himself out of his chair. He would need to brief team 3.

Unknown to the team outside, Ed had heard every word said by his team. The information provided through the earwig gave him confidence: the team was here, and Greg was on the case. He'd handled far trickier negotiations than this one. If he had to be a hostage, Greg was the one he wanted negotiating for him.

Blue chose that moment to re-appear, shoving the terrified hostage in front of him. The woman stumbled as she was pushed towards the rest of the group, and Ed saw the malice in Blue's eyes.

"On the floor, now!" The woman sniffed as she complied, lying flat on the floor, fighting a losing battle with the tears that streamed down her face.

The cop winced as a foot prodded him in his bruised ribs. He got the message and lowered his eyes.

"There're cops all over the place out the back – we can't get out that way," Blue reported, rubbing his hand across the top of his balaclava'd head in frustration.

"Shit! Shit, shit, this is all wrong," Black said, deserting his post by the front doors.

"Alright, we need a new plan," confirmed Red. "If we stay calm, we can still get out of this thing. We fall apart, we leave this place in body bags. So we stay calm, we work as a team, and we work this out. Agreed?"

It was not perhaps the most inspirational speech ever given, but it seemed to do the trick. Ed, watching from the corner of his eye in order to prevent his ribs taking any more of a battering, saw the gunmen pull themselves up straight, and saw the mad panic fade from their eyes. These were not men ready to give themselves up, no matter what they had told the sergeant.

"Green – get on the computer. Everything you can find out about Greg Parker. Black, back on the doors. If they get too close, do what you have to." Red turned back to the room at large, pointing his weapon at the hostages who became studiously interested in the faded carpet.

"Everyone, over there," he gestured with the gun to the wall furthest from the door. "Backs against the wall, hands on heads, one at a time. You first." He pointed his gun down at a man at a suit – a bank worker – who got slowly to his feet, and moved across to the wall.

"You next." One by one the hostages moved, under Blue and Red's supervision, until only Ed and Sam remained.

"Move him."

"Ok," Ed agreed, slowly getting up. He kept his movements slow and steady, aware of the guns pointing at him. Again, he gripped Sam beneath the arms, moving his team-mate as gently as possible across the floor. He laid him flat next to the wall, taking advantage of the opportunity to check his pulse and breathing – still slow and steady. He considered trying to bring him round, but decided against it. There was nothing he could do anyway, and at least unconscious he couldn't be used as a human shield. As he started to sit next to him, a voice cut across him.

"You. Cop." He glanced warily across at Green, seated at a computer. "Over here, now," he commanded. With a quick glance at Red to make sure he had heard the instruction, he moved towards the gunman.

"Stop there. On your knees, hands behind your head," he instructed when Ed was a few feet from him. Ed sunk slowly to his knees and interlocked his fingers behind his head. Complete compliance would mean that his move – when he made it – would be entirely unanticipated when it came. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Green, what you doing?" Red questioned, not taking his eyes from the group of hostages.

"I need information. He has it," Green responded.

"I'll help you get it," Blue said, striding across to the pair and placing the barrel of his weapon on the back of Ed's head. Green shot his partner a look but said nothing. He turned his attention to the captive.

"Greg Parker, you know him." It was a statement, not a question, and Ed didn't bother to deny it.

"Yes."

"He's your boss?"

"He's my boss." He chose his words carefully, mirroring the subject, holding eye contact, and at the same time wondering where this was going. Green broke the eye contact, calling across to his comrade.

"Red, the negotiator, what unit did he say he was with?"

"Strategic… Strategic something, same as that one," Red answered, gesturing at Ed. Green turned his attention back to the cop in front of him. Ed answered before he was asked, slowly working his way inside the subject's head.

"Strategic Response Unit."

Green nodded, putting his gun down – out of Ed's reach – and started tapping away. The cop lifted his head slightly, trying to see the screen, but the pressure of the gun behind him increased, forcing his head down again.

"Give me an excuse," the malicious voice of Blue whispered in his ear.

Green worked intently at his task, the screen displaying realms of code as he wormed his way into systems that were supposed to be closed to him, until he arrived at the SRU database. Highly classified, and supposedly impenetrable. Nothing was impenetrable if you had the skills – and the time. The latter was in short supply. This was where the cop came in – if he could be made to co-operate. He spun his chair to face him.

"I want to be very clear. Blue hates cops. He'd love nothing more than to put a few bullets into your buddy. Mess me around, and I'll let him."

Ed fought off a wave of nausea and tried to focus on his training.

"I hear ya. Just tell me what you need."

"Pass codes. I want pass codes to the SRU database."

"I don't have those," Ed lied, his mind working frantically. He couldn't allow the hostile to gain access to the database, but he couldn't let Sam get shot either.

"Maybe I wasn't clear before. I will fuck your friend up so bad he'll wish he's dead, and I won't stop there. You see that kid? I'll make you watch while I blow her head off. Give me the pass codes, or people are going to die."

Ed relented. He could only hope that someone was monitoring the computers from outside, and would block the attempt. Green tapped in the pass code as Eddie supplied it. The system was much less secure from the inside, and it was easy for him to over-ride the security features intended to limit Ed's access. Parker's personnel file was quickly located. He nodded to Blue.

"I'm in."

The blue gloved man pulled the SRU man to his feet, forcing him towards the other hostages. He sank to the floor next to Sam, keeping his vigil next to his injured friend. He listened to the feed from the earwig with growing frustration – when would they realise he had the device? When would they start talking to him, dammit!? It was like watching one of those murder mysteries, when the killer is walking up behind his next unwitting victim – you screamed at them, it's him, it's him! – but they couldn't hear you, and you could do nothing but watch, an outside observer. So he sat inside the bank, isolated from his team, and waited some more.