Chapter Three

"Jules? Are you okay?" Greg asked, anxiety clear in his voice.

"I'm fine, Boss. Listen, she isn't gonna pick up the phone any time soon, and she's going to notice if I try to negotiate her."

"So what can you tell me about her?"

"Nothing much. She calls herself Artemis. Boss, she's desperate. I've never seen anyone so determined not to give in; she's gotta be in some kind of trouble. She doesn't seem the type who would just go on the rampage like that with no good reason."

"Jules listen, I need you to try and connect with her. Find out why she did hasn't hurt anyone yet, there's still a chance she can walk away from it all. Make sure she knows that."

"I'll do my best, Sarge." Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound in Greg's ear. The line went dead.

"Spike, this subject is a woman. We need to find out who she is. Have a look in the criminal database, and see if you can find any reference to an 'Artemis.'"

"She's some kind of Greek goddess isn't she?"

"Well I don't think it'll be the goddess who's taking hostages."

.

Wordy knocked on the door and immediately a volley of barks erupted from inside the house. The door opened to reveal a young woman, holding the collar of a large Dobermann.

"Jessica Stanley?"

She nodded her head into the hallway.

"Come in."

Wordy went inside.

"So, how can I help you?" she asked, letting go of the dog who bounded at Wordy, and began licking his face vigorously.

"Windsor, get down." The Dobermann gave Wordy a final lick then went and sat contentedly in the corner, where he proceeded to rip up a small teddy bear, leaving stuffing all over the carpet.

"I need to know exactly what you saw this morning."

"Well, I don't really know what I did see. I was walking Windsor home after going to the park. We took a shortcut and came out in the high street; I remember there was a hooded man getting out of a car. As we passed, Windsor tried to jump on him, and the man threw him off. I was so angry, I was about to say something, but then his coat fell to one side, and I saw the gun in his belt. He looked like someone who wouldn't be afraid to use it, so I got out of there as fast as I could. As soon as I got round the corner, I pulled out my phone and called you."

"Is it possible that it wasn't a man you saw?"

"Well, I guess it could've been a woman, I didn't really see his face. I suppose I just thought it would be."

"You say the subject got out of a car? Can you tell me what car it was?"

"Well, I don't really know cars very well. It was a red one, parked just around the corner from the shop."

"No make or model? Did you get the licence plate at all?"

She shook her head. "Sorry."

"Can you describe it to me? Did you see how many doors it had, whether there were any scratches on it? Anything like that?"

Jessica nodded. "It was a five door, but not very big. And there was some kind of charm hanging from the rear view mirror – a crescent moon, I think it was."

Wordy smiled at her.

"Thanks for your time, Jessica."

She walked him to the door. The dog followed, and Wordy tentatively scratched him on the head before leaving.

.

The command truck door opened, and Leah walked in.

"Boss, I've asked around, but no-one saw anything."

"OK, thanks Leah."

Ed's voice came through the earpiece.

"We've got a problem, Sarge. The only shot is through the front window, and the subject is too close to the hostages right now to try anything."

"Ok, Eddie. Do what you can. With any luck we won't need the shot."

On the CCTV, the subject was pacing up and down the shop. Every now and again she glanced warily out of the window.

Spike hadn't found any reference to an 'Artemis' in the database.

"Why are you doing this?" muttered Greg. "What do you want?"

As the woman turned back towards Jules and the others, her hood slipped back from her head. She pulled it up quickly, but it had been enough.

"Spike, freeze that image." Spike pressed a couple of buttons, rewinding the video and zooming into her face. The picture was far from clear, and at an awkward angle, but you could just about make out a young woman.

"Can you clear that up?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

.

Sam stood with Ed, watching as his team mate set up his shot. He fidgeted restlessly. Ed looked at him, and then rested his rifle on the stand in front of him.

"You know, Jules is clever. She's gonna be ok, Sam."

"She's in there on her own. She's got no gun, and no way to get hold of me…us." Sam scowled. His insides twisted themselves up as he recalled the last time Jules had fallen victim to a gunman. He didn't want her to have to go through that again. He didn't think he could do it either.

Ed peered through the sights, lining up his shot perfectly, so that, for the moment at least, the bullet would shoot straight through the subject's heart. Sam didn't have to look to know it would kill first time.

"She isn't alone, Sam. She's got Sean; he'll look out for her. Besides, she does this for a living, remember? She knows how to deal with an armed hostage."

Sam ignored the remark about Sean.

"But we can't even get a shot in without risking her." Now it was Ed's turn to shift uncomfortably.

"Sam, we're all worried. When one of the team is taken hostage, it knocks us all off balance. But we can't afford to let it get on top of us."

"How can it not?"

.

Jules saw a woman in her mid-20s, with strong features, and strikingly blue eyes, before the hood was hurriedly tugged back up, casting a shadow across the face.

"You know that you've got no way out of here? You're gonna have to talk to the cops at some point." The gun, which had been hanging idly from the woman's hand, swung round to face her. But Artemis had no retort. Jules could see that she already knew she would have to give in soon. She could also see that she didn't want to give in, any more than she wanted to shoot Jules. Jules decided that she had to risk it.

"Why are you doing this, Artemis?"

"Because it's for her," came the short reply, but Jules detected a note of fondness in the answer. And perhaps a quiver of surrender. But only a small quiver.

"Who is it for, Artemis? A friend?" The woman looked at her, then slowly nodded her head. The eyes that stared at Jules from underneath the hood, looked distant, as though she were remembering a forgotten past.

"She must be some friend, for you to so do much for her."

"She helped me, when no one else would." The words seemed as though they were being forced reluctantly out. She seemed to be struggling against herself, part of her wanting to tell someone, anyone, what was weighing on her mind; the other part knowing she should be keeping silent, shouldn't be spilling her guts to some stranger.

"What would she say; if she knew you were doing this for her?" Artemis shifted uncomfortably. "Do you think she would want you to put yourself in so much trouble because of her?"

"Wouldn't you? To help someone you loved?"

"Yes," Sean said softly. "I would."

Jules didn't answer. She found Sean's hand, and squeezed it slightly. It was reassuring to know that he was here. Even though he could do nothing to help, at least she wasn't alone. In the silence, Sean's stomach rumbled audibly. Artemis turned to face him, then quietly walked over to stand by the phone. Pointing towards it, she looked up at the security camera.

.

"Boss?" Spike called over to Greg, who was pouring over the blueprints to the store.

"Spike?"

"I think she wants to talk now." The figure on the screen was gesturing towards the phone, her hood covering the face that was obviously looking straight at them. Greg dialled, and watched as the figure finally reached out to answer.

The voice on the other end of the line was definitely that of a woman, although Greg had never heard a woman sound quite like her. She sounded hoarse, but he could tell she was strong. There was a determination to her voice, the sound of someone who doesn't give in without a fight. She knew what she wanted, and she certainly didn't leave any doubt as to what it was.

"I need food for four people. I will send out someone to collect it in half an hour. If you try to slip any bugs in with it, I will shoot the woman."

This is good, thought Greg. She's made contact voluntarily, and she's thinking about the needs of her hostages. Forcing aside his anxiety at the casual threat to his teammate's life, he assured her he would do what he could to help.

"Well I'll start working on that. You know, it's good that you decided to talk to me. My name is Greg Parker, can I ask who I'm talking to?"

"Half an hour." The figure in the screen put the phone down and walked away.

"Leah, the subject wants food, would you sort something out?"

"On it, Boss."

Wordy appeared in the doorway.

"The witness saw someone getting out of a car round the corner from the store. She didn't know the make, or licence plate number, but she said that it was red and had a crescent moon hanging in the window. I've checked the cars nearby, and there was only one that matched the description."

He handed Greg a piece of paper with a licence plate number written in an untidy scrawl.

"Good work. Spike, find me the owner of this car."

Spike typed a few keys, and the screen filled with text.

"Ok, the owner is one Kathy Farthings, current address: 47 Hikays street. I've also got a hit in the criminal database. She was a victim of domestic abuse."