Terms Of Surrender. Kylie Brant

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      “We were making headway when our team got pulled,” she said shortly. “We’d won concessions. But another hour’s been wasted and the child has to be exhausted.” The HT didn’t strike Jolie as the patient sort. “The longer this goes on, the more upset he’s going to get.”

      “An increasing danger to the child will be a big consideration in the decision for a tactical response,” Spading pointed out.

      “As it should be,” she retorted. There was a tense knot in her chest that wouldn’t dissipate until Truman delivered the tactical report about what was happening in the bank. She threw an impatient look at the man, but his expression as he listened to his headset gave away nothing. “But I don’t think the HT’s at that point yet. He still thinks he’s going to get out of this thing.”

      Spading gave a slow nod. “Agreed. But sooner or later it’s going to occur to him just how unlikely that is, and that’s when he’s at his most dangerous.”

      “Unless we convince him to give up by that point,” Dace interjected.

      Finally, Truman took off the headset. “A second hostage has been released unharmed. Hopefully he’ll be able to provide more intelligence than the first one did.”

      Dawson picked that moment to reenter the NOC unit. “Special Agent in Charge Fenholt is growing increasingly concerned about the child’s welfare. She’s putting a time limit on negotiations. You’ve got no more than two hours before we mount an assault.”

      “So far none of the hostages have been harmed.” The snap in Dace’s voice was barely discernible, but it was there. “An assault ensures injuries. Time limits are counterproductive when talking to—”

      “Two hours,” the man repeated, taking his seat again.

      “Go ahead and make contact,” Dace instructed.

      But Jolie already had the phone ringing. And although she’d half expected otherwise, John answered after only a moment. “You okay in there, John?” First and foremost, a negotiator had to express concern for the hostage taker. It was crucial to maintain the rapport that was built one painstaking conversation at a time. A rapport the feds had disrupted with their arrival.

      “I’m fine. You’ve got your second person released. I’ve kept my word.”

      “Never had any doubt about that.” There was definite tension showing in his voice, Jolie decided. “But I’d be even more excited to see you come out. Unharmed. How about it? Put down your weapon and come out with your hands raised. That’s the surest way to end this thing peacefully. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

      “I’ll be out. When the time is right. I want the car’s gas tank full. See to that.”

      Jolie sent a questioning look at Dawson, who shrugged. “I’ll check on that for you, John.”

      “I don’t want anyone charging in here,” he warned. “I’ll come out, but I set the timeline.”

      “That’s good. I like to hear you talking about coming out. No one wants to go in there, John. No one wants to hurt you.”

      “Don’t kid yourself.” The HT gave a short laugh. “Everyone wants something in this life. And there’s not much doubt what all the cops out there are waiting for.”

      “What do you think they’re waiting for?”

      “Me. Getting carried away in a body bag.”

      Jolie leaned forward, elbows propped on the table. “John, you’re wrong about that.” Her voice was firm. “The best sight we could get is you walking out of there on your own volition, bringing this thing to a peaceful end. Seeing all those people in there unharmed. That’s what we want. Doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

      “You do this a lot?”

      She followed his sudden switch of topic seamlessly. “You mean talk to people in trouble? I’ve had some experience. Lots of people just want to be listened to. I’m here to listen, John.”

      Dace slid a slip of paper into her view. At least he’d taken the care to print, always a bonus when it came to reading his handwriting. She read the directive and glanced his way, giving him a short nod.

      “No one really listens,” the man on the other end of the phone said flatly. “It’s everyone for himself in this world. Yeah, you have friends, coworkers, if you’re punching a clock. But in the end, you’re alone. And people who don’t recognize that are suckers.”

      The words struck a chord. There was a time when the sentiment was not so far from Jolie’s own attitude. People invariably let you down. It was one of life’s absolutes. It was infinitely easier, wiser, to rely on yourself. But that was before she met Dace. Before she’d had Sammy. Before she’d been the one to let the people in her life down. Big time.

      “You forgot family,” she said smoothly, bringing up the topic on Dace’s note. “You have family, John?”

      There was a pause, and the ensuing silence was charged with emotion. In the background Jolie could hear Tyler fussing. Calling for his mother. She blocked out the sound. Blocked out everything but the man’s answer.

      “Yeah, you’re right. Family matters. About the only thing that does, when it gets down to it. How about you? You have any family?”

      And suddenly the charged emotion had nothing to do with the man’s response. Now the air of expectation emanated from Dace.

      Jolie hesitated. “No,” she said finally, taking care not to look in Dace’s direction. “There’s just me. But if there’s someone we can call for you, John, you need to let me know. We can make that happen.”

      “No, I’ll be talking to him soon enough. When I walk out of here.”

      “When will that be, John? When are you planning on walking out of there?”

      “Soon. I’ll let you know.” And with that the line went dead.

      Disconnecting, Jolie looked at Dace. “So what do you think? Is he considering giving up, or does he still think he’s taking that vehicle and heading out to Never-Never-Land?”

      “He’s hanging on to the thought of escape.” Spading nodded agreement while Dawson said nothing. “We still have a ways to go in convincing him to give up.” Dace scratched his jaw, which was already showing signs of a shadow. He’d often shaved twice a day while they were together. The memory snuck into her subconscious, unbidden. Before he’d join her in bed, his jaw would be smooth, inviting her fingers. Her lips. Whatever else had gone on between them, they’d never lacked communication in bed.

      A slow heat suffused her body and Jolie forced her gaze away. It was only when actual words were needed that they both had fallen short.

      “The way he’s still talking about that car, I don’t think he’s given up on the idea of getting out of there with a few hostages.”

      “Maybe not.” With effort she shifted her thoughts firmly back into the present. “But we have time, if we can convince Fenholt to drop this ridiculous time limit and allow us to continue the process.”

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