"No absolutely not Joe!" Frank said, his eyes flashing as he frowned at his brother, "I am not letting you do this."

"Frank c'mon we both know this is the only way we're going to be able to get these suckers to even think about doing something that we want them to do," Joe replied finding it a little hard to look at Frank at that moment. The stare he was receiving from his older brother was like a beam of heat.

Joe had spent the last few moments setting out his admittedly desperate plan and then the remaining time attempting to convince Frank it was the only way to go. They were running out of time and Dante would be running out of patience. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that they could have acted to prevent the loss of the life of one of the remaining hostages. He also knew his brother wouldn't be able to either and he sighed slightly as he wound himself up for what he knew was a low blow.

"Just look at their faces Frank."

The laser beam of brotherly concern was broken as Frank sagged under the undeniable truth of Joe's words. His head dropped slightly as his eyes flicked to the scared and frightened forms of the drained people in the room. He grit his jaw as the unfairness of the situation washed over him once again. Joe knew he had won, if you could call it winning, when Frank closed his eyes momentarily, heaving out a weary sigh.

"If you get yourself killed doing this Joe I am going to personally march into the afterlife so I can let you know exactly how unimpressed I would be," he said, a frown marring his features as he stared at his brother evenly.

"I'm sure that would be the reason entirely and not just so you could say 'I told you so'," Joe said with a half grin, his attempt at humour falling somewhat flat under the current situation. "In any case, you're the one who's going to be in the line of fire for a while."

A look of worry crossed his face as he gazed at his older brother. He couldn't deny that the presence of Frank had instantly calmed him after the crazy day he'd been experiencing. But if it were possible to wish someone out of a situation he would do it in a heartbeat. The last place he wanted Frank to be was in the nut bin with him.

"Well if we're going to do this we need to do it fast," Frank said heading into professional mode, shaking off any misgivings he had about the plan in favour of giving it his fullest attentions. He glanced towards the ward where Lance was evidently talking over the latest development with Dante, the rest of his dwindling crew standing just outside of the doorway awaiting orders.

Nick had been taken to one of the adjoining office rooms to rest when Joe's latest ministrations had seen to it he'd be of no use for the rest of the job. His eyes had swollen almost shut after his already abused nose had taken another direct hit. That still left four walking, talking maniacs to deal with. Frank braced himself, setting his shoulders slightly before taking one last moment to nod to his brother.

"Move quickly."

"I plan to," Joe replied, his eyes narrowing as he also honed his focus on the job at hand. It was a simple plan and one which would leave them leaping from the fat into the fire. But it was the only one that he could think of that would leave them in a position of leverage and the only kind of leverage the Marchettis seemed to understand.

Joe steeled himself. The plan relied on Frank taking front and centre whilst he worked in the background, but he needed to be absolutely ready for the first opportunity to move. He dragged himself up to a sitting position, attempting to not draw attention to himself as he shook off the aches and pains and waited on Frank to start the show.

Frank took a deep breath before pulling himself to his feet. The eyes of the hostages snapped to him at the movement but they might as well have been behind a brick wall for all the notice he took of them as he focused on the game plan. He took a moment to assess just how beat he was before sending the pain to the back of his mind with an impatient shake of his head. He would deal with it later. Walking across the room he frowned as he approached Dante's ward and the sharks circling the tank.

Tony was the first to notice him, his face crumpling into a snarl as he brought his weapon up to meet him.

"Boss?"

Lance turned from his father's hospital bed, an eyebrow raised as he examined the young man before him.

"Can we help you?" he said, suspicion evident in his honey laced tone.

"I'm here to tell you what a mistake you're making," Frank began, secretly happy his voice had managed to come out on an even tone.

"Oh really?" Lance said, frowning at Frank, "and just how is it we're making that mistake?"

"I know the Chief. He's not going to give into your demands no matter what you do," Frank started. His mind whirred as thoughts of what he should say bounced around in his head. He was winging it plain and simple but he had to make it sound good.

"Is that so?" Lance said, "I think you're underestimating the lengths your chief will go to when I start putting bullets into bodies."

"He's not going to be able to be seen giving into the demands of terrorists," Frank replied, barely registering Lance's words, "all you're doing is express mailing your one way ticket to jail."

At these words Lance stepped forward, handing his weapon to Pietro with enough force to make him grunt.

"Terrorists are we?" he said squaring up to young detective. Frank was by no means short or lacking in the muscle department, but the sheer bulk of Lance seemed to dwarf him.

"Well what is it you think you're doing here Lance? Throwing a picnic?" Frank said a little recklessly. If there was ever a time to channel Joe's smart mouth it was this one.

"I think you'll find what we're doing here Hardy, is making a perfectly reasonable demand to reunite our family," Lance said, unchecked anger now present in his voice. By this point he was looming over Frank, leaning down so his flashing eyes were mere centimetres from the detective's. The bulk of his body cast an impressive shadow over Frank in the ghostly lighting of the emergency lights.

Frank lifted his chin slightly in an unconscious movement attempting to make himself seem less intimidated. In truth, any feelings of intimidation were actually starting to dim as a surge of anger began bubbling inside of him. He was beginning to tire of Lance's macho act and though Frank seemed to be entirely crafted of patience in most situations, the culmination of the day's stresses and strains were beginning to wear on him. Good thing the plan was to have him acting any which way but patient.

He stepped into the tiny space that Lance had left when he had moved towards Frank, almost pressing his nose against the gigantic man's before him.

"Reasonable demand?" he hissed at Lance, allowing some of the fire within him to darken his features, "explain to me exactly what part of today has been reasonable."

"Careful kid," Lance growled, eyes narrowing.

"Was it blowing away those guards who were doing nothing more than their job? Shooting the doctor, a man who has dedicated his life to helping others? Or beating the living snot out of my brother?" At his last word a little fleck of spit flew from his mouth and landed unceremoniously on Lance's cheek where it glistened in a taunting fashion. Frank hadn't meant to get so emotionally riled up, but the memory of seeing his banged up little brother tipped his bubbling pot of anger right over.

Still, he had to pause a moment, chest heaving, as he considered the brute of a man standing in front of him. Lance had stood bristling as Frank had railed and ranted. But the moment the spittle hit his face he had grown stone still. His glowering face growing ever darker as he lowered his head in barely suppressed rage.

Without any preamble he whipped his hand up and backhanded Frank full in the face, throwing his head to a side with a grunt. Frank saw red for a moment and used the distraction of his own movement to bring his now balled fist back in an answering blow which left an instant welt on Lance's cheek.

Snarling in anger, Lance whipped up both his hands and placed them around Frank's neck. The younger man startled into action gripped Lance around the wrists in an attempt to remove his grip and lessen the pressure. This proved to be an impossible task so Frank switched up his tactics and wrapped his own fingers around Lance's tree trunk of a throat, feeling the tight muscles tense in response under his grip.

Both parties grunted with effort as they each wrestled to gain the upper hand. Despite his size, Lance struggled slightly against his wiry opponent, his sweaty palms slipping slightly under the onslaught. As he shifted his fingers for a better grip in order to squeeze the life out of Frank, the attentions of both men were suddenly taken by a loud shout from behind them.

"ENOUGH!" Joe was planted a ways away from the action, happening to stand in a pool of the emergency lighting which glinted off the shiny metal of the pistol he held in his hand. A pistol which was pressed none too gently against the temple of a struggling Abigail.

Lance froze, his hands still around Frank's neck but with no actual pressure being applied. The look of shock and outrage on his face almost comical. As Frank had taken up the attention of everyone in the room with his display of shouting, Joe had used the moment to make a head long dash into the office where the bodies of the unfortunate guards had been unceremoniously dumped. Having passed through there what felt like a lifetime ago he had noticed that their guns had been thrown into a pile next to where they lay, limbs awkwardly contorted in death.

His simple, but admittedly foolhardy plan, was to get Frank to make a scene whilst he retrieved one of their pistols in order to take his own hostage for leverage. If the Marchettis understood one thing it was a threat to one of their own. Abbie had been closest to the door where he had exited. Luckily for him. He didn't know if he had enough strength left to have subdued one of the more muscle bound members of the crew.

As it happened he was having a hard enough time keeping the fiery brunette under control. Until he pressed the gun against her head with a little more pressure to stop her flailing.

"Hardy, what the HELL do you think you're doing?" Lance said, his eyes narrowing as he eyed Joe who's stony expression spoke volumes. He was pissed, and prone to extremes. At least that's what Joe hoped his face was saying. In truth he was waging an internal battle with his repulsion of hand guns and the disgust he was feeling at himself for pointing one at another human being.

"I'm speaking the only language you seem to know Lance," Joe said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Now take your hands off my brother and step the hell back."

Lance paused for a moment, eyes flicking to the weapon pressed against his sister's face before taking a slow step back and raising his hands slightly to show his intention.

Frank swiftly crossed the room to stand by his brother, his expression matching Joe's making them appear to be almost twins in the darkened lighting of the room.

Lance lowered his hands slowly, his face twisting with anger. He took a look behind him at the guns of Tony and Pietro trained on the Hardys.

"Now what kid?" he said, his voice barely controlled in his obvious rage, "there seems to be a bit of a conflict of interests here."

"No," Joe said, his voice sounding lethal as he eyed the men in front of him evenly, "I'd say we have exactly the same interests actually."

"Excuse me if I don't follow," Lance replied.

"You want Abbie here in one piece I take it?" Joe said, the coldness of his tone startling Frank although he made sure not to show it. "I'd like each and every one of the people in here in the same state and out from under your nose."

"You think I'm going to give up my only leverage just for her?" Lance said, grinning manically although the humour not quite reaching his eyes.

"I think that's exactly what you're going to do Lance."

For a split second something crossed Lance's expression which he quickly tried to hide. Desperation. Joe was completely right when he'd told his brother that the only thing the Marchettis would respond to was a threat against their family. Lance had already lost one member today and, despite the macho act he was trying to put on under the circumstances, he was clearly petrified of losing another. He quickly regained his composure, however, and straightened up slightly. Determination on his face.

"Fine, they can go," Lance said, drawing small gasps of hope from the hostages still crowding the room. "But you and your brother, you stay."

Joe's heart thumped in his chest as he fought to keep his nerve and paused for a moment as if in contemplation before answering with a brief, curt nod. He and Frank were at the point in the plan which Joe had labelled 'the just wing it' phase. Lance being prepared to release the hostages was a better outcome than they'd hoped for and Joe didn't need to even look at Frank to know that trading themselves in for the lives of so many was an offer they'd accept in a heartbeat.

"No!"

The unexpected voice tearing through the pin drop silence of the room made all the parties jump and turn their heads in an almost practised unison. Mary was on her feet, anger on her face as she eyed up the men before her.

"I'm not letting you boys do that for me, I'm not a pawn to be passed around thank you very much. I've seen too much happen to you today to leave you in the hands of these lunatics in good conscience," she said heartily, panting with the fervour of her words.

"Mary," Joe began, his eyes widening in a slight panic as he took in the diminutive yet fearless lady standing alone in the centre of the room.

"Don't you Mary me young man. I have taken care of you and your brother more times than I care to think about and I cannot stand to see you left to their devices."

"That goes for me too." Both Joe and Frank's shoulders sagged in time as the plucky form of Maria sprang up to stand next to Mary in a united front against the Marchettis. Mary didn't break her gaze with the men before her but a half smile crossed her face as Maria grasped for her hand.

Joe gaped slightly, looking towards Frank for the first time with literally no clue what to do next. At that moment, when the room had frozen in a tense deadlock, two things happened simultaneously. The east entrance to the department suddenly exploded with noise and flashing lights as gunshots mingled with the throaty yells of what seemed like an army of people outside of the door.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Lance grabbed Tony's weapon and lunged towards the two women, grabbing Maria across her neck and pulling her in front of him with the gun pointing to her face. Mary staggered slightly as she was shoved to the side, the room clouding with the sounds of screams mingled with the gun fire and shouting from the outside hallway. She shook herself off a moment before fixing a glare at the towering man and launching herself towards him, raining blows onto the thick set muscles of his arm.

Lance considered her for a moment, her punches more an obvious annoyance than anything, before turning the weapon and shooting her in the chest.

Frank and Joe looked on in horror, a mingled "NO!" issuing from both of their mouths as Mary stepped back, a look of eternal surprise crossing her face before she crumpled to the ground, a gurgle sticking in her throat as she tried to catch a breath.

"Pietro, get pops into his go kart, it's time we went on a little adventure," Lance barked at his cousin, not even batting an eyelid as Maria broke down into tears at the sight of Mary heaving her last breaths. "Tony, cover the door, shoot anything that moves."

The confusion of sounds continued from the corridors as Tony crossed the room, opening the door a crack before sending a hail of bullets down the western hallway.

"There's someone down there boss!" he shouted towards Lance between barrages before fixing his attentions on the shadowy figures just beyond his reach.

"What do you boys say about taking this little Mexican stand-off to a fresher venue?" Lance said, his eyes flashing as he hovered the now smoking barrel of his gun at the temple of the crying nurse in his arms. Maria grit her teeth, choking back her sobs as she looked into the eyes of the Hardys apologising with her every fibre for the mess they were now all in.

Frank glanced at his brother who nodded in desperation. His heart felt like ice as he glanced at the now still form of Mary. Blood blossoming on her blouse. They needed to get the gun shots as far away from the remaining hostages as was possible.

"Boss!" The now slightly frantic voice of Tony pierced the room as the shadowy figures in the distant hallways began making a move to surge towards the department entrance.

Walking backwards, the gun still pressed to Maria's head, Lance barged past Tony and yelled into the now slightly quieter hallway.

"HEY CHIEF!"

A moment of blessed silence filled the air before the gruff voice of Ezra echoed down the corridor.

"Lance?"

"I got a gun to the head of this pretty young thing before me here Chief, would be a shame if I had to give her a new haircut now wouldn't it?" Lance yelled back, the whites of his eyes seeming huge as they bugged slightly out of his head. He was losing control of the situation. Looking at the veins standing out on Lance's neck, Frank didn't know if that could be considered a good thing.

"The time for negotiation is over Lance, face it you've lost."

At this Lance stepped into the hallway using Maria as a human shield.

"OK then Chief, so shoot me." Tears ran silently down Maria's face as her wide eyes shone in the white lights of the hall. A group of blackened, armoured figures huddled behind various pieces of furniture and equipment that littered the corridor. Her gaze roamed over the silent bodies of the fallen scouts lying on the blood soaked floor and her breath hitched as a sob ripped from her chest. She was more afraid than she had ever been in her life.

"That's what I thought," Lance said his words knifing through the tense atmosphere. "This is what's going to happen next. My family is going to move out behind me. You can have your cattle, but the girl and those bastard Hardys are coming with me."

"Lance.." the voice of the Chief broke out, a warning in his tone.

"DO YOU WANT HER TO DIE CHIEF?" Lance yelled, drool flying freely from his mouth and glistening on his chin.

In the answering moments of silence Lance panted, daring anyone to say something.

"I thought not." With a flick of his head, Lance motioned to Tony and Pietro who were stood behind the motionless forms of the Hardys. Joe's gun still pointing at Abbie's head.

They herded the boys before them, hatred beaming like a missile directly at their faces. Nick followed behind, pushing the walrus like form of Dante, now confined to a wheelchair. Sweat poured off his face as he clutched his bandaged stump to his chest, blood showing through the gauze.

Lance began to slowly walk backwards following his family as he dead eyed the officers still crouching at the end of the hallway, his stare seeming to linger even as they group turned a corner out of the eye line of the supposed rescue party.

"You two, in with the hostages. I want a medic team in here asap to deal with whatever fallout these assholes have left us with," Ezra barked at the two officers on his right before turning to his left to address his remaining troops. "You two, with me."

Counting to ten in his head the Chief slowly lead the way forward down the hall, determined to follow this mess right to its end conclusion.

So I just finished writing this beast tonight and I'm quite happy with how it turned out! I reckon there's maybe another two chapters to go and we're done.

Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to review. The critiques are tending to come from guests so I can't reply personally but I promise I do consider your words and I'm attempting to apply some things to my writing. Hopefully it will show.

As always, all comments and critiques are appreciated!