A/N-Thanks for all the reviews and follows!

Spring has arrived in my neck of the woods so I have less time to write. I'm doing a lot of research on this topic so it's taking time to read and watch documentaries. If you like documentaries on hostage taking, I have watched Hostage:do or die and Flashpoint (drama) and a few others online. It's very interesting to watch a negotiator at work, but so stressful! I'm learning so much about it.

Sorry its going so slow...just wanted to make it as real as possible while still keeping the characters true to themselves. Takes a lot of balancing!

And just as I was ready to post yesterday, my daughter did a faceplant on the trampoline and had to get stitches in her face...sigh...I'm a nervous wreck now. KIDS!

Thanks for reading along :)

Nathan opened his eyes, startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He sat up, blinking a couple of times as he willed himself to wake up. Feeling disoriented, it took him several moments to remember where he was and what had happened previously. After seeing the video of the helicopter landing in Pearl, Dosa had retreated to the corner of the room by himself. When Nathan had attempted to talk towards him, he pointed his weapon at him and strongly suggested he back off. Nathan had decided to take the opportunity to get some rest. He had no way to know how long the situation would last, but for the time being, he'd sensed no immediate danger to himself or any of the other hostages. He suggested that everyone try to get some rest, and he'd taken his own advice as well.

"Captain," whispered the persistent voice behind him. Nathan looked up to see a man standing over him looking on the verge of panic. "It's my wife. I think she's gone into labour." Nathan felt his adrenaline surge within him. So much for keeping the hostages on a low profile. Nathan glanced around the room to see that most of the other hostages seemed to be sleeping or resting quietly at their tables. He could hear the sound of the man's wife whimpering. Nathan could tell she was trying not to draw attention to herself. Rising to his feet, he gently shook Kristin's shoulders. She wearily looked up at him.

"This man's wife is in labour." Kristin immediately rose to her feet and hurried to where the woman was moaning. Following behind her, Nathan admired how quickly she could go from sound sleep to fully alert.

"At the risk of sounding callous, try to keep her as quiet as possible." Nathan saw Kristin nod silently as she spoke softly to the woman. Her look gave him ample assurance that she would do all she could to not aggravate the situation further.

"Stay with your wife. I'll see what I can do to get her released." The man gave Nathan a grateful look and silently went to be with his wife. Nathan glanced around the room, grateful that all the other people seemed to be resting. Resting or sleeping hostages are less threatening targets. He risked a glance at the gunmen and saw that four of them seemed to be sleeping as well. Two were wide awake and seemed on edge. Dosa was sitting by himself on the opposite side of the room talking on his cell phone. Why hadn't his signal been blocked by now? Outside interference made him unpredictable. Who is he taking orders from? Nathan couldn't read his expression and wondered what the man was thinking. He glanced at his watch and saw that several hours had gone by since he'd put his head down. What are you thinking, Dosa?

"Captain." Nathan turned in the direction of the soft voice and saw Jonathan walk up to him. "What's up with the woman?"

"She went into labour."

Jonathan's eyes widened in concern and he groaned. "Oh man, couldn't ask for better timing."

Nathan shook his head and chuckled at Jonathan's sarcasm. "Yes, perfect timing." He continued to glance at Kristin who was busy talking to the woman.

"What's Dosa waiting for, Captain? He hasn't said a word since the video was tapped in here."

Nathan shrugged. "Commander, when was the last time you went out on a first date?" Jonathan furrowed his brow in obvious confusion over the question.

Nathan looked intently at his second-in-command. "This has become less a careful game of psychological chess and more a really awkward first date. There are no easy answers and no special tricks. We're all at his mercy."

"So, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that Dosa is a pawn in this, and he has no idea what he's being asked to stand for. I think he's been asked to die for a political agenda that he doesn't even understand."

Jonathan frowned. "What are you saying? You think he's going to back down?"

"I don't know, but if we assume that he's all evil and won't back down or compromise, then we're gonna be less open-minded in an attempt to influence his behavior."

"Captain."

"If our goal is to get everybody out with the normal amount of holes in their bodies, Commander, maybe we need to remember his humanity for a few minutes before we send in the bitchin' street tanks. It's not about exploiting some psychological loophole miswired into his brain so much as it's just listening to him like a human being." Nathan scrubbed a hand over his scruffy five-o'clock-shadowed face. He felt his second-in-command staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "Just watch my six, Jonathan and trust me, alright?"

Jonathan nodded with a look of skepticism on his face. "I trust you implicitly, sir. I just need something more to go on than what you're giving me."

"It's all I got for you for now," Nathan hesitated for a moment. "My gut is telling me to appeal to his humanity. Let's just say that I'm looking for his Achilles' heel, Commander. Jonathan blinked a few times and then nodded. "See what you can do to help Kristin. I'm going to try and engage Dosa again."

"Yes, sir."

Nathan looked over at Dosa, hoping to be able to read the man but couldn't. He saw that Dosa was no longer talking on his cell phone and was sitting with his head leaning back against the wall. The man's face was stoic. The apathy cast fear into Nathan. The only thing he could do was take the chance the man would be approachable. It had been several hours since they had last spoken. Surely, the man would want to make more demands by now. Chills ran up and down his spine as he walked towards the man, making a fair amount of noise so as to not sneak up on him. There was no way that Nathan wanted to startle the man. It concerned Nathan that Dosa seemed so withdrawn. The fact that he had removed himself from even his own men was disconcerting. As he drew closer, he saw Dosa look up and scowl at him.

"What do you want, Bridger?"

"It's getting close to dawn. We're going to need some food."

Dosa looked down at his gun and laughed sarcastically. "Is that all you can think about?"

"I want to help make things work smoothly for all of us."

Dosa squint a skeptical eye at him. "What's going on over there?" Dosa nodded in the direction of the woman. The room was coming to life as it became more obvious that the lady was in distress.

"A woman has gone into labour."

Dosa's brows rose. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. Nathan could see that the information seemed to make Dosa visibly uncomfortable. "Find out if Abdul has been released, Bridger!"

"I'll call Sheppard."

"Get food for everyone." Dosa hesitated for a moment. "I'm not stupid, Bridger. I know that the UEO is stalling for time, and I'm losing my patience. I have nothing to lose in this."

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Dosa? You don't strike me as a man to get caught up in a political war."

"I never asked to be a part of this. I was chosen, Bridger."

"I guessed as much."

Dosa furrowed his brow. "You guessed what?" Dosa eyes darkened ominously. Use caution, Nathan. Tread carefully. Nathan clenched one side of his mouth and forced a quiet breath through his teeth as he debated his words carefully. Keep your emotions balanced. Act casual.

"I've been a captain for a long time, and I've learned to read and evaluate people—my crew specifically. I know how to peg a respectable leader. Dosa, you have all the qualities of an impeccable leader. Your men look at you for guidance and direction. I've seen you give a hand command, and they obey without blinking an eye."

A muscle in Dosa's jaw twitched. "Don't patronize me, Bridger, or so help me God, I will blow your friggen head off!" Dosa rose to his feet and cocked his gun at Nathan. Nathan put his hands in the air but kept his eye contact sharp. Back off, Nathan. Remove the sense of threat. Build some equity.

"I'm sorry, my intention wasn't to patronise you." Nathan continued to look Dosa confidently in the eye. He made his face as friendly and non-judgemental as possible. "Look, I can't help but notice how you seem torn by this whole thing. Are you just going along with Ibrahim Singh or are you truly convicted?"

Dosa scowled at him and shook his head. He continued holding the gun on Nathan but his hand was wavering slightly. Slowly the gun lowered to the man's side. Dosa licked his lips and chuckled softly.

"You really don't get it do you? This has nothing to do with my convictions, Bridger. My convictions don't mean anything! I refuse to take responsibility for this. The blood is on the UEO's hands." Dosa looked at his gun and brought it up to his other hand and cupped it. "We tried to do things the right way! We tried to get them to hear our pleas! All that did was get my brother killed!" Your brother killed innocent bystanders, Dosa. Your group didn't try to do anything peacefully. You came in with guns blazing and demanded things that were impossible to give you! Dosa took a few threatening steps towards some hostages who appeared to still be resting. Dosa pointed his weapon at one of the women. "Do I need to have convictions to pull the trigger, Bridger? Do I need to agree with a particular political agenda for me to stop killing people?"

"The killing has to stop somewhere, Mr. Dosa. Taking someone's life isn't justice for your brother. We have to tell ourselves that we are better than that; we can figure out how to solve our problems without taking human life." Nathan saw something flicker in the man's eye as he stared at Nathan and then back at the woman. "She's someone's daughter." Appeal to his humanity. Stay positive and encouraging.

"Go to hell, Bridger! Do you think I care?" Dosa took a few menacing steps closer and grabbed the woman by her hair. The woman gasped and screamed at the harsh treatment.

"Shut-up!" he screamed at her. The woman whimpered but went silent as she visibly trembled. Her companions at her table all pleaded with Nathan with their eyes. Nathan shot a warning look at the men at the table. Stay put, gentleman; I don't want any dead heroes.

"Murder isn't justice."

Dosa shook his head with a hollow laugh. "You're such a hypocrite, Bridger. How many people have you killed from your pretty little UEO flagship? Don't judge me!" Dosa released the woman's hair with a harsh shove. Her head smacked the table severely. Nathan saw her companion put a protective arm around her. "STOP STALLING! Talk to Sheppard!" Dosa raised his gun in the air and fired off a round of shots into the room. Fear permeated the room once more. He felt his heart do a jump in his chest as he glanced around the room watching innocent bystanders cringe and cower in terror. Nathan was a military man, used to the idea that he might die in the service of something bigger than himself. Nathan had made peace with death a long time ago. It was a whole other matter for all the innocent hostages—they were being asked to die for something useless, something they were helpless against, something that wasn't really their fight.

Nathan grabbed the vid-link and dialed out.

oOoOoOoOseaquestOoOoOoOo

Lucas paced out in the hallway impatiently. Sheppard's team had arrived, and they were in a private session. He had allowed the colonel to stay because of the man's valuable military input and knowledge into what the SWAT was planning. Television always falsely portrays negotiators working alone. Every movie Lucas ever watched nearly always showed them the same way - the hostage negotiator as a solitary creature, like a nonviolent Mad Max, working alone. He heads into the building unaccompanied, cut off from the outside world, and only his cunning brain can get him, and everybody else, out of the situation alive. Lucas shook his head at the notion. He'd only been on SeaQuest for a short time, and he'd already been involved in more than one terrorist attack and had heard about many others. In reality, it wasn't simply a game of trying to outwit the terrorist. It was a matter of trying to help some desperate person make the best possible choices under some intense circumstances and hopefully everyone gets out alive. Lucas knew that Sheppard would have one hell of a team gathering intel for him. Mostly it irritated Lucas that he was being kept out of the loop. He understood but he hated that everyone kept treating him like some irritating, stupid kid. He could be useful if they just would let him.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor."

Lucas stopped and looked at Mitch who was walking towards him holding a mug towards him. Lucas accepted the drink and sat down in the nearest chair.

"I hate the waiting."

Mitch sat beside him and took a long drink. "So do I. It's always hard on those who have to wait and worry, who can't affect the outcome." Lucas saw the warm smile on the man's face. "How are you holding up, Lucas?"

Lucas shrugged, ignoring the question. "They're trying to end things peacefully, you know. The negotiation team is going to do everything they can before the tactical team takes over." Lucas sighed. He didn't know why he was rambling information to Mitch when he probably already knew it anyways. He just felt so unsettled.

"I think everyone is hoping for a peaceful outcome…" Mitch's conversation was interrupted by the sounds of gunshots coming from the Summit room. Screams and shouts could be heard echoing down the corridor. Lucas stood to his feet, his mug crashing and splattering to the floor. He felt his whole body shaking and he dropped to the floor, curling up into a ball. He closed his eyes as the room started spinning. He covered his head with his hands. They're all dead. He's killing them all. Lucas could feel his breathing increase as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

"Hey, Lucas, it's okay, pal. You're fine. The shots have stopped."

Lucas kept rocking and holding his knees tight to his chest. This isn't real. This isn't happening. None of this is real. He heard a calm voice speaking to him, but he shook his head, covering his ears. Go away! Leave me alone! Captain, where are you? Ben, I need you. Please make this feeling go away! Help me!

"Lucas, listen to me. You're safe. I know this is scary, man, but you're safe."

Lucas felt a hand touch his shoulder, and he shrunk away from the touch. He spun on his backside, switching directions and continued rocking. Images continued to flash in his mind as he held his hands over his ears. Captain!

"I won't touch you if that's scaring you. It's me, Mitch. You're fine, Lucas. You're safe. You can open your eyes. Nothing is frightening to see out here. Look at me, Lucas!"

Lucas slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the bright lights. He felt his breathing racing and his heart pounding in his chest. He could see Mitch on his knees beside him, a concerned look on his face. Slow your breathing, Lucas. Calm down. It's just a panic attack. Eric warned you these could happen. Count to ten. Concentrate on your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In a sudden rush of adrenaline, Lucas jumped to his feet, running down the corridor as fast as his feet could carry him.

oOoOoOoOseaquestOoOoOoOo

Sheppard glanced at the wall chart that he and his team had created and made mental notes of how many hostages were left in the room and the approximate proximity of the gunmen. He then read over all his notes that were very precisely ordered alongside the timeline of events. His team had interviewed all the released hostages and had taken many notes from the information given to them. There were six well-armed gunmen who seemed to be Dosa's puppets. They had a body pileup in the middle of the room on display for all the hostages to see. It was a constant psychological reminder of Dosa's control. Hostages were spread out throughout the room. There were no windows in the room. I need to get out more of those hostages. The only outer access into that room was the back door, and Sheppard had no idea if Dosa knew about that door. It was now 10 hours into the hostage taking, and they'd only managed to get a handful out. The only thing that gave Sheppard hope was statistics. The more time that passed without killing meant the terrorist was losing momentum. He's wearing down. He's tired. Keep him talking, Bridger.

Colonel Hitchcock pointed to the blueprints. "Tactical is going to attempt entry here." Sheppard looked at where the man pointed on the papers. "There appears to be a large ventilation system that leads directly above them."

"That will drop them in right on top of them!" Sheppard shook his head in frustration. It was going to be a bloodbath. If the tactical unit dropped down through the vents, it would give the gunmen plenty of time to open fire on the men entering the room and the hostages. "Dammit, there has to be a better way!"

Sheppard looked around the room at the personnel strategizing with him. Everyone single man and woman in the command room had a perplexed look on their faces. Dosa had obviously done his homework well when considering this operation. He couldn't have picked a better place to hold hostages. It felt like a losing battle with literally no way to get the hostages out without using the door they entered. All the possible escape routes would mean a huge loss of life. Bridger, this has to be you. You have to talk him down. It's the only way people are going to get out alive.

"Our only hope is to get out as many hostages as we can before tactical gets itchy fingers. Okay people, listen up…" Just as Sheppard crossed the room to point at his chart on the wall, the gunshots rang out. Everyone in the room froze, and Sheppard felt the colour drain from his face. How many more people just died? No one said a word as they stared at each other, everyone fearing the worse. Seconds later his vid-link rang and Sheppard all but dived for the communication device.

Sheppard willed himself to look calm and collected as he tapped the button to open the link. Stay calm, Sam. Bridger needs a calm head on this side. If he sees you looking hopeless, it's going to impact him. Bridger needs to see confidence. Assurance.

"Everything okay in there, Bridger?" Bridger's face looked pale, and Sheppard could see he was putting on a brave façade.

"Good. Dosa was just showing me how many shots he can fire in a round. Everyone is safe. We have a woman in labour. We need some blankets and hot water brought in and food for everyone. Mr. Dosa wants to see that Singh has been released."

"Can I speak with him?" Sheppard made mental notes as Bridger stepped aside and Dosa appeared on the vid-link.

"Has Singh been released?"

"We're working on it, Mr. Dosa. May I ask your first name, sir? My name is Sam Sheppard." Sheppard held his breath. This was the first time the terrorist had engaged with him in conversation. Maybe he could take over and give Bridger a break. The captain looked visibly worn.

"What the hell is taking so long? How many people have to die before you people realise how serious I am about this?"

"We know you're serious, and we're doing what we can to help you." Ask for him to release more hostages. Barter with him. "Bridger says you have a pregnant woman in there in labour. That must be very nerve-wracking for you. Do you think you could release her for us? I'm sure that would help calm everyone down." Sheppard watched Dosa cringe when a sharp scream was heard in the room. It was obvious the woman's labour was escalating. "A crying baby is going to make it hard for everyone."

Dosa sighed irritably. "Fine, I will let her go. Get me some food for these people!"

"I imagine it's getting more difficult to manage all those people. Do they need to use the washroom? It's been 10 hours, Dosa. As the time progresses, it's going to be harder to handle them all. Can you let some of them go? It will be easier on you if you have less to manage." Careful, Sam, don't make them sound like a burden, or he'll just start shooting.

"Shut-up Sheppard or you're gonna have some more dead sheep on your hands! Get us food, and I'll free the woman and her husband. I'm getting sick of this stalling. I'm not an idiot!" With those final words, Dosa ended the link.

Sheppard felt the perspiration on his brow. He brushed his hand across his forehead while he stared at his team. He should have never gotten up this morning.