Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

Richard was worried. He’d seen the women return to the conference room and didn’t see Olivia with them. He wanted to ask what they’d done to her but thought better of it. He had a pretty good idea of what had happened and he was sick with worry. As the men had been led from the room for their chance to use the bathroom, Margret Michaels had put her hand on his arm and nodded briefly as he’d passed. Olivia was fine, that's what she had meant. It was a relief to know for sure, but it didn’t alleviate his fear in the slightest.

The two guards had led them to the bathroom and back. Richard hadn’t needed to go but went through the motions regardless. Once they were returned to the conference room, the third man who had remained to watch the other hostages left them and set off to patrol the corridors.

Olivia slipped her new prizes into the top of her dress. One thing could be said for women's formalwear, it certainly could carry far more than people realized.

She eased open the office door and listened for a moment. The corridor was silent and dark, many of the lights having been extinguished throughout the building. Slipping into the corridor, she retraced her steps toward the center of the building, hoping to find out more about what was going on. She’d mentioned the threat of boobytraps to the Sheriff and needed to get a look at one of the devices to try to help them if she could.

The building was massive. There was no way the terrorists could guard every exit, which meant the traps were likely a well-publicized threat to not only the hostages but the police outside. If she could get them valuable information, she might be able to help them end this sooner.

Finding a stairwell, Olivia listened for a moment, her ears straining for the slightest sound of movement. Believing the coast to be clear, she started to descend toward the ground floor. She’d managed to reach the second-floor landing when she heard the sound of a door open below her. Rapidly she began to retrace her steps until she was able to find a door to slip through on the landing above.

The corridor was black and there were few doorways nearby so she flattened herself against the wall and waited in silence, her heart beating so loudly she feared it would give her away. The footsteps grew louder as they ascended the stairs outside the door before stopping right outside her door. She held her breath, not even daring to breathe lest she give her hiding place away. The door opened slightly, and an unseen hand held it for a moment before pulling it closed. She could hear the sound of a zip tie being fastened before the footsteps resumed and she was swallowed by silence once again.

Letting out her breath, she tried the door. Whatever the unseen person had done, it was now secured and she had little hope of returning the way she’d come. It was impossible to see in the darkened corridor, so she extracted the small flashlight from the top of her dress and switched it on.

The corridor ahead appeared to be deserted and was flanked by a sparse number of closed doors. Each door she passed, she tried but found them to all be locked. They appeared to be records storage as far as she could tell. Pressing onward, she rounded a corner and found herself in a wider section of corridor flanked by offices. Like before, she found most to be locked but the final doorway had light emanating from beneath it.

Glancing through the small window carefully, she saw that it looked out over a balcony surrounding a large circular ornate space, the rotunda at the center of the building she realized. The door was unlocked, so Olivia opened it carefully and listened.

Down below, she could hear an angry voice echoing slightly within the chamber. The conversation appeared one-sided, so she assumed it was a phone call. Crouching down low, she slipped out onto the dimly lit balcony and looked through the stone railing down to the space below.

A large man in a tuxedo with a rifle on his shoulder was pacing back and forth, with a cell phone to his ear. He was jabbing angrily at a line of hostages as he spoke, his temper flaring.

“I want someone that can make decisions in his place then. I want my demands met or I’m going to start executing hostages, starting with this traitor’s most valuable guests.”

“Yes now… No, You have an hour.”

Olivia could see two other men with him, assault rifles held easily in their hands as they flanked the kneeling hostages. She recognized the Governor and two of his colleagues, the Mayor and the women she assumed to be their wives.

The man’s tone grew darker. “If you haven’t met my first demand within twenty minutes, I will kill three hostages, do not test me.”

Mike Sanderson ran his hand over his bald head and cursed. The negotiators were messing him around and playing for time, he knew their games. He had demanded a feed for a live press conference but they were claiming that it was impossible under the current circumstances unless they were able to secure the release of some of the hostages. He knew it was bullshit but he was in a corner.

He’d given them a deadline, they’d have to pick.

“Mister Sanderson, what do we do if they don’t give us the feed?” one of the men next to the leader asked.

“They will, or we’ll start killing hostages as we promised. We’re in this for the ride, we follow through.”

His radio crackled.

“Sir, we’ve got a small issue.”

“What?” snapped Sanderson.

“We’re missing one of the hostages from the upstairs group probably got lost. Some chick wandered off. They only noticed when we did a count. I’m searching offices now.”

Sanderson kicked at a discarded champagne glass, feeling satisfaction when it shattered against a pillar.

“Don’t fucking come back without the bitch,” he growled, “no loose ends.”

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat when she realized they were talking about her. She slid back from the edge of the banister and made her way around the balcony in a low crouch attempting to keep herself in the shadows. There was a door on the far side, which mercifully, was also unlocked. Olivia slipped inside and slowly shut it behind her to prevent any sound from giving her away.

The game was taking a darker turn. Hostages' lives were being threatened and the man down below sounded unstable and motivated. Those were never a good combination in a crisis. When she’d been at the academy, they’d given the cadets a course in basic negotiation and de-escalation skills. It wasn’t anything compared to what was likely happening outside with the specialist teams that she knew must be on scene, but it was enough to give her a brief insight into the man’s state of mind.

The man downstairs, Sanderson, was in charge. He was politically motivated and he wanted a platform. The negotiators were following the standard protocol of give and receive; for every demand, there would be a request or concession politely demanded in exchange. She’d seen them kill when they first took over the building, she had no doubt the man’s threats to kill hostages were very real.

Slipping into a darkened office, she hit the emergency button on the cell phone and was put through to the Sheriff outside.

“Dalton, update me.”

“Ma’am, I was able to get a look at the Governor; he’s alive as is the Mayor and a few other VIPs. As far as I can tell none of the guests have been harmed yet. We have a number of fatalities amongst the Governor’s security detail, these guys are not afraid to kill. Tell the Negotiators if they’re threatening lives, they mean it.”

“Slow down Dalton.” the sheriff reassured her. “Slow down, and take a breath. Are you secure where you are?”

“For now.”

Olivia leaned her head back against the cool wall behind her and glanced toward the window outside. Emergency lights were lighting up the ceiling in a kaleidoscope of red and blue.

“Ma’am, I need to do something, these guys are really serious.”

The Sheriff spoke to someone off the line before returning. “Dalton, stay out of the way, we’re going to comply with their demands for now and try and get people released in the meanwhile. Stay useful and stay away from them. We’re having the phone company remotely unlock the handset you’re on, get us pictures of their devices on the doors if you can. We’re sending this number to you.”

Olivia hung up and watched as the phone shut down and began to reboot. Once it came back, it was fully unlocked and appeared to be back to its factory defaults. A text message blinked onto the screen with a number.

Suddenly she didn’t feel quite as alone. She looked down at her dress. The silk material of the skirt was dirty and creased. She felt a little disappointed that she didn’t get to spend her perfect evening with Richard, even if it was going to be mostly schmoozing with politicians.

Thinking about Richard made it worse for her. She now had someone to lose if this went wrong. it wasn’t impersonal and professional and she would struggle to act with a clear head knowing he was at risk. She knew she had to put that to the back of her mind, but life wasn’t that simple. With a sigh, she took out the penknife from her dress and slit the side of her perfect skirt up to mid-thigh. She could get another dress if she survived.

She made her way back to the door and listened carefully before slipping back into the corridor and making her way back into the darkness.

Sheriff Reilly was speaking with the negotiators when the commander of the SWAT team finally arrived at her base of operations.

She glanced at her watch and frowned. “About damn time you folks got here. I assume you’re up to speed already?”

The commander shook the Sheriff’s hand and grimaced, expressing his feelings at the scale of the situation they found themselves in. “Ready for whatever is necessary, Bomb Squad on the way?”

The Sheriff nodded before letting her guard down for a moment and speaking less formally. “Alex this is rough, they’ve got us by the throat here. They’re heavily armed, political and we believe, military trained.”

“Did I hear you have someone inside? a Deputy?” The commander asked with interest.

The Sheriff nodded and sipped her coffee. “Yeah, off duty, she was here as a guest. The poor thing’s been off the last six months recovering from a line of duty-shooting.”

The SWAT Commander smiled darkly at the irony of the situation, “Some people’s luck just sucks.”

Reilly nodded and accepted a report from one of the staff in the command center. “They’ve not had the best time of things, that’s for sure.”

The woman appeared older than her years in the harsh light of the command center. The Sheriff looked worried.

Olivia crept along the hallway sticking to the shadows. She’d managed to get to the ground floor and was working her way through the rear corridors of the building, far from the activity in the central rotunda. These areas of City Hall weren’t part of the public-facing areas of the building but instead, the beating heart that made the city operate.

From the map she’d found on a stairwell a few minutes ago, she should be approaching an exit to the exterior that would have what she needed to send to the people depending on her. Thirty meters further down the corridor, she found the fire escape she’d been looking for. It was one of the heavy metal doors with a central push bar found all around the world to expedite exits in the event of an emergency. This one however would spell doom if it was used for it’s intended purpose.

Olivia checked the corridor was clear before turning on her flashlight and examining the device attached to the door. It was a compact and simple affair consisting of a lump of plastic explosive and a blasting cap attached to a length of fishing wire that was hooked around the bar and crossed the edge of the frame. The device was brutal in its simplicity; if the door moved, whoever was nearby wouldn’t exist anymore.

She took out her phone and began to take photographs to send back to the others. There was a reasonable chance the devices were all similarly crafted. If the line was pulled, the cap detonated sending a spark through to the main charge. She wasn’t an explosives expert, but she’d seen enough movies to understand the basic concept.

Switching off the light, she stashed it before focusing her attention on the phone. She began attaching the images to a message and was in the process of sending it to the number she’d been given when she heard the footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Her heart racing, Olivia moved quickly to find refuge in one of the offices off the main hall but was met by only locked doors at every turn. She began to feel her panic turn to a cold dread as she saw a flashlight play around the corner ahead of her. Like a deer in headlights, she stood frozen in the light beam.

“There you are.” the voice growled, its owner marching towards her in the shadow created by the flashlight.

A hand attached to the gruff voice reached out and grabbed her arm, “was wondering where you got off to.”

The man noticed the cell phone in her hands. “What are you up to? Trying to call for help? Give me that.” he barked reaching out to snatch the device.

Olivia reacted on instinct as the man stooped to grab at her lowered hand. She twisted in his grasp and brought her knee up into his sternum with everything she possessed.

The man gasped and doubled over, releasing her from his grip. She dropped the phone to the floor and took hold of the arm that had been holding her moments earlier and hooked her leg behind his knee. The man fell hard, his own body weight acting as a pivot as he tumbled backward onto the floor.

Olivia didn’t waste a moment and lept onto the man swinging punches at his face trying anything to stun the man. The gun he had with him was still hooked to a sling across his chest, she had to keep close or he’d be able to use it against her.

As she sat astride the man swinging wildly she flashed back to that fateful afternoon six months ago and saw the face of the man she’d fought for control of a different gun. She lost her focus and stopped hitting the man, her body locked in fear. The main bucked his hips and threw her to the side. Olivia crashed into the floor and felt the breath leave her body.

The man scrambled to his feet swearing and spitting. “I’m going to fucking kill you cunt.” he snarled grasping at his rifle. The man raised the weapon like a club as he reared over her. Olivia stared blankly up at the man, her face a mask of fear. She attempted to crawl away from the man on her back, unable to look away from the looming figure. She felt a metallic object move inside the bodice of her dress and suddenly remembered the knife. In the poor light of the corridor, the man never saw her pull the blade out and flick it open.

As the man reached down and moved to grab at Olivia’s hair he finally saw the flash of the knife coming up toward him. Olivia swung the blade with every molecule of her strength. She knew it was her last chance to survive.

The knife buried itself to the hilt in the side of the man’s neck. Olivia twisted and yanked at the blade ripping it out of the stunned terrorist’s flesh. There was a spray of blood and the man dropped to his knees grasping at the ragged wound with his hands in a feeble attempt to stem the flow. He stared at her blankly for a moment before collapsing sideways onto the floor.

Olivia sat with her back against the far wall staring at the dead man for several minutes until her heart rate could return back to normal. She had just killed a man. It had been her life or his she knew, but that couldn’t begin to quieten the feeling that what she had done was very wrong.

She swallowed hard and stared at her hands. They weren’t shaking, they looked steady and even, they looked wet and dark with the man’s blood. She should feel worse she knew, but as her pulse returned to normal she felt the fear start to become anger. Anger at what they were doing and anger at herself for her misstep.

Olivia pulled herself up and mentally chastised herself. There was time for tears later and this was not the place. Stepping over the body, she removed the man’s rifle and checked the magazine; it was fully loaded. The rifle was a short-barreled carbine, it was exactly like the one’s she’d trained on and carried every day in her car.

With some difficulty, she removed his belt of magazine pouches and equipment. A quick inventory of her new gear showed she had plenty of ammunition, a radio, and two flash grenades.

Olivia slung the belt over her shoulder like a bandolier and took the rifle in her hands. She glanced at the body on the tiled floor and said a silent prayer for her soul. She had a bad feeling that he wouldn’t be the only one tonight.

Stooping, she picked up the discarded cellphone and typed a quick message before sending the attached photographs.

One less, me or him, armed. Suspect One SANDERSON. Dalton.

Stowing the cell phone in one of the pouches, she caught sight of herself in one of the darkened office windows. Backlit by pale moonlight from the slim exterior windows behind her, her reflection looked almost supernatural. Her hair was a mess and her dress was bloody but somehow the pale glow made her look like a vengeful angel. A Valkyrie sent to bring death to the unworthy. She thrust out her chin and smiled, she was done being afraid.

The police held up their end of the bargain and Internet connectivity was returned to the building shortly after Ten that evening. Sanderson and his men began to put their plans into effect.

The Governor was given a script and shoved up onto the stage behind his podium. This wasn’t the joyful campaign speech that he’d planned to give filled with hope and promises for the future of the state. It was not anything he would say in his public or private life but the armed men gave him little chance to refuse. An armed cameraman gave him a signal and the Governor held the edges of the podium to stop himself from shaking as he began to read.

“My Fellow Californians, my name is Governor Macdill. I’m here tonight to read a statement prepared for me by American patriots who want you to know the truth. For many years, we have systematically broken down the moral fabric of these United States. Nowhere more so than here in California. Our policies and laws have been targeted to cripple and limit the freedom of our citizens and promote the liberal agenda at each step. I implore the State Senate to impeach me, and elect a true American Patrot that will restore glory to these lands and free our people from the immigrants, homosexuals, and freedom-hating people that have their boot to the neck of you all.”

Governor Macdill swallowed hard. “If these demands are not met, I will be executed in three hours along with the Mayor. Good night.”

The camera stopped broadcasting and Sanderson stepped out from behind the operator.

“Excellent work Governor. Let’s hope your lackeys are brave enough to follow your words and make a stand for America.”

The Governor felt old, his body frail. He stared at the hateful man before him and shook his head. “They’ll never do it,” he muttered feebly. “They won’t give in to your demands.”

Sanderson smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant expression, but more akin to the look a predator gives its prey before it strikes. “Then you’ll die tonight, Governor Macdill.”

Olivia crept along the corridor. She’d somehow managed to make her way back to the eighth floor without being noticed and no alarm had been raised yet over the missing terrorist. She had one of their radios now and she could hear their chatter. The men were organized and efficient, nothing extraneous was said over the frequency, and the airwaves were kept relatively quiet. There had been mention of the police restoring the internet and the Governor’s broadcast to the public; that meant her time would be limited.

Her first priority was Richard. She knew it was selfish and irrational but she had to make sure he was ok. She’d overheard the broadcast the Governor had made and she knew they’d never follow the demands. Her time was limited and she had to make sure that he was safe before she acted. She didn’t have a plan, but she was certain that she could find something by the time she reached the room where they had been held. If even a handful of hostages and Richard were safe, she could act with a clearer conscience.

She passed the bathroom where she’d slipped away from the group and retraced her steps toward the conference room, the rifle in her hands. The dark corridors felt like a mausoleum to her. The oppressive silence inside the thick walls of the building made her every sound feel like a cacophony of noise.

Reaching the room, she pressed herself against the wall outside and listened. She couldn’t make out much, but there was a low level of conversation inside. There had been two terrorists guarding the group earlier, but had the third left? She wasn’t sure. The door had a frosted glass window that made seeing inside impossible. She considered using the flash grenades she’d taken from the dead terrorist but decided against such a loud option. She wasn’t sure if there was backup nearby or what it would do to the other hostages. She had to find a way to neutralise them quietly or she could get them all killed.

Opening a nearby door she slipped inside the darkened office and searched for something she could use to make a noise. If there was something strange, they’d have to investigate, but they wouldn’t leave the hostages alone; if she could separate the terrorists, she had a chance to stop them quietly. Her eyes settled on a computer monitor on the edge of one of the desks and shrugged before shoving it off onto the floor.

The device clattered to the floor causing an almighty racket in the silent space. She tucked herself into the gap behind the door and held her breath. She didn’t have to wait long. After a few moments, she heard footsteps approaching and saw the partially open door creak open toward her. A flashlight played around the interior of the room, glinting off the window on the far side. She saw a dark shape through the frosted glass of the window and held her breath.

The man stepped into the room and played the flashlight over the desks until he saw the shattered monitor on the tile floor. His moment of focus was his undoing. Olivia lept from behind the door and swung the rifle like a bat catching the man in the back of his head. He hit the floor with a dull thud and didn’t move again. Realizing he’d be missed soon, she acted quickly. The men had been prepared for hostages and their gear contained plastic zip ties which she now used to secure the unconscious terrorist on the floor. She leaned his rifle against the wall by the door and stepped back out into the corridor.

Returning to the conference room, she saw the door was partially ajar now. Light was bleeding out into the corridor ahead of her casting a beam across the far wall. A quick glance showed her the other man was watching the hostages, his focus on them, not his comrade’s whereabouts yet. Olivia steeled herself and flipped the safety off the rifle in her hands and took a deep breath. Her hands felt clammy against the weapon, this was everything, all or nothing. Shoving the door, she rounded the corner and raised the rifle towards the remaining terrorist.

“Drop the fucking weapon or you’re dead.” she snarled.

The man had turned at the sound of the door, he had clearly been expecting his friend’s return. There was a look of shock in his eyes when he registered the angry blonde in a bloody gown pointing a rifle at his face. He dropped the weapon and threw his hands up, his face a mask of shock. Some of the hostages gasped and screamed but quickly recovered when they saw she wasn’t one of the terrorists.

“Turn around get on your knees, now.” she barked not giving him time to think. The man quickly complied and clasped his hands behind his head. Olivia stepped forward and kicked him squarely in the back, knocking him forward onto his stomach. “Hands behind your back,” she ordered as she tossed a pair of zip ties to one of the men closest to her. “Tie him up.” she gestured with her free hand. The man hesitated before following her instructions and securing the man’s hands.

Olivia pulled the rifle away from the now prostrate terrorist and lowered her own, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“What the hell going on?” Attorney General Michaels was the first to speak, the older man unsure how to process what he was witnessing.

“This…” Olivia gestured theatrically, “is a rescue. Sorry I’m late.”

Richard was by her before she could respond and pulled her into a tight hug.

“My god, you’re ok. I was so worried,” Richard gasped kissing her forehead. He pulled back and glanced at her bloody dress and looked concerned, “are you hurt?”

Olivia stroked his cheek and kissed him before shaking her head. “I’m fine, it’s not my blood. I’m just glad you’re ok. I know I said I wouldn’t do anything but I saw an opportunity and I couldn’t sit here.” she admitted sheepishly.

“You’re brave and stupid and beautiful,” Richard whispered in her ear letting her go. “Just stay alive for me ok?” Olivia nodded and released his hand.

“What about the other one?” Michaels asked getting to his feet, interrupting their moment.

“Asleep next door,” Olivia explained. “These two and one more downstairs.”

“You’ve taken down three of them?” Another man she didn’t know asked incredulously looking at her aghast. “How on earth?”

Olivia smiled reassuringly. “I’m a cop, it’s my job.”

“What do we do now?” Michaels asked, his confidence returning. “There are more of them I assume?”

Shaking her head, Olivia removed the detained man’s equipment. “Nothing at all. I want you all to stay here where you’re safe. I’ll need a few of you to drag sleeping beauty from next door back in here. There are two weapons here now, so I need two volunteers who have used a gun before.”

Several of the men retrieved the unconscious terrorist from the office and dragged him through into the conference room. Olivia gave them a brief rundown on the rifles the men had carried and showed them what she wanted them to do with them. Her plan was to leave the group here, a safe place where they could defend themselves if necessary. A known location where the police could find them when it was time. Richard had protested that he wanted to go with her but Olivia turned him down explaining that she was able to move more freely by herself. His pride had been a little tarnished but he understood; this was her world, not his.

Her world; that was a funny thought. She wasn’t a veteran cop or former military with a special background. In reality, she was barely anyone in the grand scheme of things. All she knew was that this was something she had to do whether it got her hurt or worse. She had no choice but to step in and do what she could because that was the job she had signed up to do. It wasn’t a new feeling for her, she felt that every day. It had, however, never burned this strongly within her. Part of her wanted to run and hide, play it safe, but her own experiences over the last few months told her it was wrong to run. She had to stand and fight for what mattered now.

She kissed Richard one last time and looked pleadingly into his eyes as their bodies separated. She hoped that there was something in there that understood why she had to go.

“I get it,” he whispered stoically. “I love you, come back to me.”

Olivia nodded and glanced around the room at the other hostages. “Stay quiet, and keep your heads down.”

With that, she slipped back out into the corridor and vanished.

Sanderson was annoyed. The Police had given them the network connection for the Governor’s broadcast and they’d released twenty unimportant hostages, but now they were stalling again. He was going to have to prove his resolve and make them listen.

Maybe he’d use that runaway hostage as an example. He lifted his radio to his mouth and pressed the button.

“Twelve, One, You round up our missing guest?”

There was nothing but static on the other end of the radio.

“Twelve come in.”

There was still no response. Sanderson cursed.

“He was out looking for the straggler boss, he’s not checked in, was up on eight before with the group there.” One of Sanderson’s men offered.

Mike Sanderson wasn’t keen on lacking discipline. He’d deal with him later. “Fourteen, Thirteen, You boys seen Twelve recently?”

The radio was silent. Now he was getting concerned.

“Fourteen, Thirteen.”

Sanderson checked a few of his other men and got responses. “I don’t like this.” he muttered before keying the radio again. “Nine, Ten, go check on Thirteen and Fourteen.”

The men confirmed their orders curtly and signed off. Sanderson kicked the Mayor out of frustration as he passed. The man’s yelp made him feel better but it wouldn’t quieten the feeling that his well-laid plans were beginning to show cracks.

He checked his watch. Two hours and he would execute the traitor.

Olivia slipped inside an office near the stairwell and pulled out the cell phone. She dialed the number and waited while it rang twice before it was picked up. “Dalton.” She heard the Sheriff’s voice over the line.

“Here Ma’am. Did the pictures help?”

“Absolutely, our EOD guys have got a plan worked out to handle them, you’ve helped a great deal.”

Olivia noticed a pair of sneakers under one of the desks she was pacing past and pumped her fist happily.

Reilly continued, her voice more serious. “What was that text message? What did you mean?”

“I got caught by one of them, we fought, and he lost, I have his weapon and radio. It wasn’t planned but I did what I had to.”

“You ok?” a note of concern crept into the voice on the phone.

Olivia didn’t answer for a moment while she tried on the sneakers. They were a little large, but they would do. “I’ll cry later. I have good news though. I was able to get back to where I’d been held and I have two of them detained up there. Twenty hostages are secure including the AG on the eighth floor, conference room, east wing.”

The line was silent for a moment, Olivia checked she still had a connection. “Ma’am?”

“I said no Buck Rodgers,” the Sheriff replied tersely.

“Roy Rodgers.”

“Whatever,” she sighed. “Thank you… I guess. Please for the love of god, no more. I don’t want you to end up dead in there.”

“What would you do Ma’am?”

“That’s irrelevant. You’re not even back to work yet and you’re going to get yourself killed. I appreciate what you’ve done, but you should do what I say, not what I do.”

She noticed flashlights outside in the corridor coming up the stairs. Olivia smiled in the darkness. “yippee ki-yay Ma’am.”

“I swear to god Dalt…”

Olivia ended the call and tucked herself in against the door. She heard footsteps moving up to the landing and turning down the corridor away from her. She’d heard the radio transmission earlier and she knew they were likely going to check on the ones the ring leader had called Thirteen and Fourteen. She figured Twelve was the man she’d killed on the ground floor. She had their numbers scrawled on the back of her hand. This had to be Nine and Ten.

There was no way she could take two of them in the corridor without shooting, she had to separate them and somehow keep them away from the conference room. An idea began to form in her mind. It bordered on insane, but it might just work.

She ripped the door open and sprinted across the corridor for the stairs. She was making a racket, but she was counting on it. She made sure to drag the rifle barrel against the banister as she descended, the clattering sound drew the attention of the men along the corridor as she’d hoped. The radio chirped. “Got eyes on the runaway hostage, we’re after them.” a voice barked.

Olivia ran down the stairs two at a time. She needed to find a place with enough hiding places that the men would need to split up to find her. She had seen a cafeteria on the third floor she hoped would be her salvation. Reaching the correct landing she slipped through the doorway and sprinted down the corridor into the expansive dining area. Her eyes scanned the interior she’d only briefly noticed earlier.The darkened room could seat perhaps a hundred people at capacity and was filled with chairs and tables. She made for the serving window and threw herself over the counter as the footsteps thundered into the room behind her.

Olivia flattened herself against the metal cabinets as the two men came to a stop in the center of the room.

“Go check the kitchen, I’ll carry on and see if they continued.” one man said to the other. “I’ll radio if I find her.”

“You got it.”

She heard one set of footsteps fade followed by the sound of a door opening and closing. Olivia got low and crawled deeper into the kitchen to find a better ambush location.

The kitchen door swung open and a flashlight played across the polished steel surfaces. Footsteps slapped loudly against the ceramic tile floor as their owner entered the room. Olivia tucked herself into a gap between a cabinet and a massive industrial refrigerator and held her breath. The man walked across the kitchen shining the flashlight back and forth just behind the counter. He was checking under the worksurfaces and any gap he could reasonably imagine a person hiding.

Olivia spotted a rack of utensils to her side and grabbed a spatula. She tossed the object across the room hearing the clang of metal on metal as it struck something in the darkness. The flashlight snapped in the direction of the sound and she pounced. The man was three meters from her when she got a good look at him. He was tall, over six feet. She raised the rifle and jabbed it toward his head. The man’s reactions were fast and he was turning towards her when the rifle came flying at him. It clipped his head along the side a glancing blow that dissipated some of its force. It wasn’t enough to knock him out but it stunned him for a few seconds.

He swung wildly at Olivia, his hand knocking the rifle to the ground with a clatter. Olivia remembered Anderson’s words “use their strength against them.” She ducked low under a wild arm and brought her elbow up into the man’s chin. He staggered back dazed, a look of rage in his face. The man bellowed and charged, she tried to sidestep and aim a kick for his knee but her timing was off and the man knocked her flying.

Olivia smashed head-first into a counter and fell to the floor, pain exploding through her body. The man lept on her before she had a chance to recover and tried to pin her to the ground. Olivia bucked her hips and unsettled the man’s balance. She kicked upwards and connected with his groin. The man groaned and grasped his genitals. Olivia wasted no time and scrambled clear. She made it to her feet in time for the man to recover and squared off facing him.

“You’ve got fucking spirit I’ll give you that,” the terrorist growled. “I’m going to fuck you before I kill you cunt.”

Olivia shook her head and grinned, blood from her lip giving her a manic look. “You’re not my type honey.”

The man started toward her and wound up a well-telegraphed punch. Olivia sidestepped him and twisted her body around grabbing at a plate on the counter. The man turned, just in time to see a ceramic dinner plate flying at his head. The plate connected and the man crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Olivia stood panting for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She wiped at the blood dripping from her chin with the back of her hand. “I really want to make a witty one-liner but I’m too fucking sore,” she muttered under her breath. Pausing, she smirked in the darkness. “Fuck it; Dinner is served asshole.”

Nursing sore ribs and what she expected was going to be a monumental collection of bruises, she zip-tied and gagged the unconscious terrorist.

The radio chirped, “Ten, you got anything? I’m coming back.”

Olivia stared at the radio uncertain of what to do. If the man didn’t receive an answer he would be suspicious and that destroyed her edge. A thought popped into her head and she smiled to herself. Dropping her voice as low as she could, she held the radio behind a row of metal utensils to try and create static and spoke.

“Got her Nine, we’re good here.”

“Got it, coming back.”

He bought it. Olivia grimaced at the voice she’d used and tossed the radio.

When the other terrorist returned to the dining room the way he’d come, he never saw the rifle that hit him in the back of the head.

One of the men came jogging up to Sanderson. “Sir we have a problem.”

“What now?” he snapped.

“I found Twelve, he’s fucking dead sir. Some asshole stabbed him.”

Sanderson cursed. “Who the fuck did that? And why aren’t those idiots answering?

“Sir it’s worse, his weapon and gear are gone.”

Someone had killed one of his men, and now had access to their radios. Had they been listening to them this whole time?

“Where are Nine and Ten?”

The man shook his head and seemed uncertain.

Sanderson held up his radio and pressed the talk button.

“Who out there is running around with one of my radios?”

There was silence on the other end as static hung in the air.

“Answer me god damn it or I’m going to start shooting people.”

There was more static, and then a sultry feminine voice came over the radio’s speaker. Several of the hostages suddenly paid rapt attention to the surprising development.

“Now that’s not a very polite way to get a lady’s attention.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Sanderson seethed.

“Now that would be telling.” said the voice. “I’m sorry we’re not on first-name terms yet. Why don’t you call me… Valkyrie.”

“I’m not playing fucking games with you, give yourself up or I’m going to start executing people.”

The voice sounded playful. “Why would you burn your only resource, Mister Sanderson?” Can’t handle one little girl? I’d think you boys would be more than enough to handle a little kink in your plans. The way I count it, you’re down fourty hostages and five men. I don’t think you can spare any more to come looking for little old me.”

Mike Sanderson felt the blood drain from his face. Five of his men were gone? How? The hostages? How did they know his name? There were too many questions and no way the teasing voice was going to tell him. He glanced around, paranoia growing.

“Look, Mister Sanderson. I’d love to stop and chat but I’ve got an appointment I need to keep, I’m sure you understand.”

“Fuck you cunt, I don’t know who the fuck you are but I’m going to fucking kill you.” he screamed.

The voice was gone, only static remained. Sanderson was livid.

“Did you hear that?” The communications officer asked turning around in his chair. It hadn’t taken the technicians long to scan frequencies within the vicinity and pick up the comms channel the men were using. They’d been vague and indirect until that point, nothing had been given away as though they were aware they could have listened in on.

The SWAT commander took his headset off and smirked.

“Don’t even start Alex.” The Sheriff muttered removing her own.

“That’s quite the little pest you have running around in there.”

“Don’t I know it,” Reilly snapped. “It’s beginning to complicate matters. We’re getting good intel but she can’t seem to keep out of trouble.”

“If five of them are out of action that simplifies matters a lot for my guys. Think we can help them?”

The Sheriff shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea.”

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