My apologies for the last few short chapters and cliffies ... it is the only way I can keep writing at the moment so the story gets finished before real life intervenes again in a few weeks time. Thank you to everyone who has left a comment or review... it delights my muse and inspires her to write faster.
STEPHANIE'S POV
We've been held hostage for nearly 5 hours now and the tension is starting to take its toll on everyone.
"SHUT UP" the gunman I mentally named Baldy screamed at one of the crying children, cowering in their mother's arms. The child was visibly shaking and the cries became more muffled as the mother hugged her tighter to her chest. My bounty hunting training and experience had my mind in overdrive as I tried to discretely note as many details as I could about each gunman and our situation. Baldy was fairly solid, about 5'11, with a shaved head and snake tattoo winding up from below his collar up the side of his neck. He looked fit and was obviously the one in command. The second gunman had wild frizzy brown shoulder length hair and matching beard and was duly dubbed "Fuzzy". He was about the same height as the other gunman but not as fit and didn't look to be as comfortable with his gun. He didn't seem to move as quickly as Baldy and was radiating more anxiety than aggression. Still a dangerous state of mind.
The third one I tagged "Puce". His face was drained of colour and he was obviously sporting an injury of some kind, but I couldn't tell what it was. After the initial assault had taken place and the hostages were all contained in the dining room he slumped into one of the rear booths where he could watch over the room. He hadn't moved since and Fuzzy would check on him from time to time but I could see his attention waning and he looked like he was struggling to maintain consciousness. But he still had his hand wrapped around a gun.
Suddenly Baldy was focused on our table and was screaming at Betty, to get them some food from the kitchen. He grabbed one of the children, a young girl about the same age as my niece Mary-Alice, and hauled her off her seat and over to the kitchen door, hand gun trained on her the whole time. Betty visibly paled and I thought she was going to pass out.
"I'll do it." The words left my mouth before I could even register what I was doing.
Baldy glowered at me but seemed to relent. "Try anything stupid and the kid dies" …. his tone indicated this was not an idle threat. All I could do was nod dumbly in acknowledgment.
I slowly stood and moved on shaky legs towards the gunman and the kitchen. "Sandwiches OK?" I asked, surprised that I could find my voice at all. I received a curt nod in reply and a call of "no onion" from Fuzzy across the room. I wondered briefly what it meant about his state of mind that the gunman could tailor his sandwich request in the middle of a siege. No doubt Ranger and the Merry Men would know. The thought of my absent friends sent a profound feeling of sadness through me, I may never see them again, and never be able to tell them how much I had missed them in myself imposed exile.
In the kitchen I proceeded to make the sandwiches whilst also trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation. I knew that these men had already shot a young girl in cold blood and so the threat of violence and shootings was very real. They were desperate and had been on the run for several days, trying to evade the authorities.
The sound of a phone ringing made me jump, and I turned to see Baldy push the young girl onto the floor while reaching for the phone behind the counter. He started barking instructions into the phone at what was no doubt a hostage negotiator and all of a sudden things started to spiral out of control. He was pacing and screaming abuse into the phone and getting more agitated by the second. This was going to hell real fast …. surely the negotiator could tell this? Then my blood ran cold….the gunman whirled and stalked towards the young girl, gun trained on her "Maybe you need a message to know how serious I am, maybe if I just shoot this girl you'll understand that I will NOT negotiate…"
My body was moving again before I could even comprehend what I was going to do, I picked up the plated sandwiches and re-entered the room as though nothing was wrong, I stepped between the gunman and terrified child to place the sandwiches on the counter as though nothing was happening…..I knew he was serious, I knew he was going to shoot this little girl in cold blood, and I couldn't just stand by and let it happen. I thought I might be able to diffuse the situation.
I was wrong.
The next few minutes were a blur…..Baldy raised the gun to fire, Fuzzy tried to drag me away so I wouldn't interfere, this got him a knee in the balls, and a leg sweep to bring him down as I wrestled the gun from his grasp. I heard a gunshot then unloaded the clip of Fuzzy's gun into Baldy….did I say the situation was going to hell, well, we had arrived! Hostages were screaming while trying to escape, tables and chairs were overturned, swat members were crashing through doors, blood was pooling under the body of Baldy. Fuzzy was face down on the floor with Swat members standing over him and guns were trained on Puce who had his hands up in surrender and quite frankly, a look of relief on his face. I had sunk to my knees…..there was ringing in my ears and I couldn't work out why the EMT's had rushed to me and appeared to be fussing. I tried to stand wanting to check the little girl. Was she shot, was she OK? It wasn't until the swat team remove the gun from my hand and helped me up that I noticed blood on the hands of the paramedics. How did that happen? When did they get hurt? Nothing was making sense, the ringing in my ears seemed to be getting louder, why weren't they attending to the little girl. Then I looked down and saw blood all over the front of my uniform. The darkness started to slowly consume my brain despite my best efforts to focus on what was happening around me. It was a bizarre feeling as the chaos faded to black and I was consumed with an overwhelming sadness. My last conscious thoughts were of Ranger and that if I died, at least there would be no more heartache.
TBC.
Authors Note: I wrote this scene nearly a year ago when I first started considering writing a piece for fanfic. I thought I had deleted my initial attempts but found them over the Christmas break on a flashdrive. I debated abandoning the story at one stage because 10 days before Christmas, a siege took place in a café in Sydney, Australia and the horror of such an event happening became that much more real to me and my countrymen. I don't live in Sydney, I live in sunny Queensland, and Australians in general consider their country to be safe and fun loving. This incident shocked the nation. Sadly, two hostages lost their lives in the Sydney siege. Tori Johnson the young manager of the Lindt Café was shot and died as he made a brave attempt to disarm the gunman. Katrina Dawson, a mother of three young children, was shielding her pregnant friend during the siege and died as a result of a bullet that ricocheted when the police stormed the café. Their lives have been tragically cut short but they will be remembered and honoured for their strength and willingness to stand against evil and protect others.
And of course, the world has since been witness to the horrific events in France with the cowardly attack on defenceless staff at Charlie Hebdo. Regardless of whether or not someone agrees or disagrees with the paper's content, these people did not deserve to be murdered.
"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." William Shakespeare
"In order for evil to flourish, all that is required is for good men to do nothing." Edward Burke
Thank the stars and heavens for the good men and women of the world. We salute you and offer our profound gratitude for your willingness to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
