A.N. In response to a guest reviewer's question, Sam and Jules are not currently together. This is set probably around very early season four, or even late season three. Jules and Sam are not together and Wordy is still on the team. I didn't feel I would be able to properly capture Jules and Sam's relationship, so I chose to focus more on Ed and Sam's friendship.

I do not own Flashpoint or any of the characters therein. I have borrowed them only for entertainment purposes.

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Andrew Bank

Team One arrived on scene 15 minutes after the shots were heard. Sam exited his SUV with Ed and immediately looked up at the building that held the gunman. He whistled. "Wow. I wouldn't want to fall from that height."

"No one would," Ed agreed, before changing his focus to the task at hand and turning to Greg. "What do you want to do Boss? Initiate contact?"

Greg took a few moments to contemplate the best course of action before nodding. "Let's see if we can get whoever it is to pick up the conference room phone. Spike!"

"On it," The Italian called, already heading into the van.

"Ed," Greg continued, "Let's get some eyes and ears up there."

Nodding in agreement, Ed quickly gave his team their orders. "All right, listen up! We've been told while en-route that the building is being evacuated. Currently floors 36-40 and 32-34 are cleared. The subject seems entirely uninterested in hindering people from escaping from the upper floors through the stairwells. Instead, he has locked himself in a conference room on the south side with multiple hostages from the bank that occupies that floor. Jules you're Sierra One. Find the highest perch you can and try to get a look in that room. Spike, stay with the Boss in the van. Wordy and Sam you come with me and we'll try to find an entry point in case this thing goes south. Let's move!"

Scattering to their assigned locations, Jules raced to grab her rifle before heading towards the tallest building directly across the street. Its roof was about level with the 35th floor, and while ideally she would have liked to be a little higher, there was no higher ground to be found.

Ed led Wordy and Sam on the long trek up the stairs. It was times like these that they wished the elevators were not shut down in cases of emergency.

"Hey Ed," Sam called over his shoulder, "you regretting those pancakes yet?"

Despite himself, he had to laugh. Sophie had cooked him pancakes that morning and, while he normally declined such heavy food on days when his shift started mid-morning, he couldn't resist her sweet smile. "Never! I would never… in… my life… regret eating… Sophie's… pancakes!" he puffed. He knew he wasn't in bad shape, but jogging up 35 flights of stairs in full gear would take a toll on anyone. When Sam laughed good-naturedly, not sounding winded at all, Ed glanced up towards him and frowned, rephrasing his thoughts: it took a toll on any normal human being, just apparently not on SRU officers that were ex-special forces. He muttered to himself, complaining about upstart kids that weren't human, and continued to puff along. His mutterings were cut short when Sam informed them they'd reached the 35th floor. "Boss," Ed called over the coms, "we're at the door. We'll snake a camera underneath and see what we can see."

"Copy that, Ed," came Greg's reply. "We're trying to establish contact now, but the subject hasn't picked up yet."

"Copy." Ed turned to his teammates. "Wordy? Care to do the honors?"

He nodded, getting out the camera snake and moving forward to stand by Ed.

Down in the command truck, the sound of a phone could be heard ringing, and ringing and ringing…

"Come on." Greg murmured. "Jules! Do you have eyes in yet?"

"That's a negative boss, but I'll have it in just a moment."

"Let me know as soon as you do. This guy isn't giving me anything."

In her perch on the rooftop, Jules quickly went about setting up her rifle and scope. It was cold, but there was a blanket in the rifle bag that she placed on the concrete. It wasn't much, but it would help keep the concrete from sapping all of the warmth from her body. "Sierra One in position." She focused through her scope and scanned the building. "It looks like the intel is good; from what I can see, all of the south rooms are empty but one. I see one subject and nine hostages. I do not have a clear shot on the subject, too much risk of a hostage getting hit by a through and through. The door is on the north wall opposite the windows, and it's barricaded with pretty solid looking shelves and tables. The hostages are lined up all along the barricade…" She paused as she took in the subject's behavior. "Boss… are you calling that conference room's phone?"

Hearing the change in her tone, a little worry started to gnaw at his stomach. "Yes. Why?"

"Boss, he's just staring at the phone. He's got a gun in his hand and he's braced his arms on either side of the phone and he's just standing there…"

As he took in this latest news, Greg tried to plan his next move. If the subject wasn't going to answer the phone and initiate negotiations, this could get ugly. "Spike," he murmured, "try calling one more time."

A few clicks of the Italian's fingers, and once again a ringing could be heard throughout the team's coms. Everyone held their breaths. It rang once… twice… four times… and on the sixth and last time someone finally picked up.

Before Greg could say a word the subject spoke: "I assume I'm speaking with a sergeant of the Strategic Response Unit?"

Greg was surprised at the subject's knowledge but tried not to let it show. "This is Sergeant Greg Parker with the Strategic Response Unit, yes. With whom am I speaking?"

A sigh sounded over the line. "I'm not the important one today. It's not about me so let's just leave my name out of this."

"Okay, what should I call you then?"

There was a long pause before finally, "Izzys. You can call me Izzys."

Greg silenced the phone momentarily and whispered to Spike. "See if you can find any connection. If he's 'not the important one today' then that name he gave me must be, otherwise he wouldn't have given me anything." Un-muting the line, he addressed the subject, "All right Izzys, how are you thinking this will play out today?"

"It's time for someone to pay. It's finally time for someone to pay for what they've done. It's been a whole year and nothing's changed!" the exclaimed, voice sounding more and more agitated. "A whole year and she still has trouble getting out of bed! I can't even walk into my house without thinking about what I've lost… about what they did to me!"

While Izzys kept ranting, Greg again silenced his end of the line so he could converse with his team. "Ed, Wordy, what's it looking like up there?"

"We've cleared the floor boss; Jules is right, they're all holed up in the conference room. There's only the one door accessing it and we can't breach that if it's barricaded and the hostages are in front of it."

Greg grimaced. "I need another option Ed! This guy is escalating fast, and we need a way in there!"

"We could go in from the windows," Sam offered. Ed met his eye and nodded for him to continue. "I was looking at some blueprints on the ride over, and I think there's a stable anchor that we could attach our lines to on the roof that would land us directly above the windows." He paused, waiting for people to shoot down the ridiculous idea, but when no one did, he ploughed on, "If the hostages are all against the north wall, that puts them farthest from the explosion. We throw in flash bangs immediately after the windows go, and since there's only one subject and he only has one hand gun… It's less than ideal but I think that might be our only option."

Greg sighed. "You're right Sam, that's way less than ideal—"

"But he's right boss," Spike broke in. He'd been furiously working away at the computer for the past few minutes and had pulled up the blueprints Sam had been looking at. "The west and east walls are solid concrete: if we blew those there's no telling what sort of shrapnel would hit the hostages, not to mention the possible repercussions with the ceiling, because it looks like those two are main supports. If the north wall and door are barricaded with the hostages lined up in front like Jules says, then our only option is the south wall and the windows… there aren't even vents into that room that we could exploit."

Rubbing his face with his hands, Greg prayed he was not about to make the worst decision of the day. "Okay. Ed, Sam, prepare for entry from the outside via the south windows. Wordy, back them up. Keep me posted. Spike, any idea as to why this man is here? Why he's doing this?"

"Negative boss. I'm working on it."

Greg nodded and un-muted the microphone, putting his sole focus on the words that Izzys was saying.

"—I mean, they lied to us! They said she'd be safe, that there was no way she'd get hurt! They swore they'd get her out and they didn't!" he screamed into the phone. "And then I met her, and she offered me this, and everything's changing!"

At the briefest of pauses in his confusing tirade, Greg broke in, "Sir! Sir, who is 'they?'" When he received no response, he changed tactics. "Izzys? Who did this to you?" He heard the man on the other end of the phone take a deep breath, before continuing more calmly.

"You want to know my story Greg? You want to know why I'm out here this morning? Of course, you should really know, but I guess I'll let your stupidity slide. January 17th. Last year. Call me back when you understand." The line went dead.

"Already on it boss," Spike preempted the sergeant's request for information. "January 17… January 17… what happened on January 17 last year? Oh… damn."