Parley

If Amy was going to parley this into a winning situation for everyone concerned, both the victims and the perp, she'd have to tread carefully. When they'd first arrived, he'd sounded somewhat sane, but as time wore on, he was losing ground until he'd begun ranting and raving while waving a revolver in circles over his head as he spoke. She desperately needed to get inside the grocery store to find out who was yanking his chain before the situation escalated any further. If she could talk to him she might be able to calm him down and de-escalate the situation before it became so inflamed there was no looking back.

Taking the bullhorn in hand, Amy identified herself then spoke directly to the perp. "Marty, I know you don't want to hurt anyone. You're not that kind of guy." She paused then continued, "I'd like to talk to you face to face, Marty, see if we can sort this out. Would that be alright with you?"

With no movement nor response and the clock ticking, everyone's anxiety grew. Finally, he said, "You and only you. And leave your hardware behind. I want to see you drop it."

"Great, Marty. I'm coming in." She handed the bullhorn to her partner and whispered, "right leg, take him out if I give you the signal, got it?"

Making her way slowly across the adjoining pavement and up onto the sidewalk, she continued toward the double doors. He had a hostage, a terrified teenager maybe 16 by the shoulder. She pulled the door open and kept it open with her foot while slowly turning to show him her empty holster, then lifted her jacket and said, "No weapons, Marty, as you asked."

"Inside!" he barked.

"Marty, how can I help you?" she asked counting the crowd of people huddled on the floor. Fifteen including the teen.

"They sole my job my money and my pension." Angry tears filled his eyes. Dissolusionment had his shoulders sagging.

"Who's 'they' Marty?"

"Head office. Old Jerry there said he'd look into it, do something about it, but he stalled until I lost my house and I'm living in my car cause I have nowhere to go. He's as full of shit as they are. He never intended helping me. He was just blowing me off, like head office did when I contacted them." He turned and pushed the teenager away to point the gun at a man cowering behind a woman. Her gaze followed the gun. 'Nice!' she thought. 'True chivalry in action.'

"Mind if I have a chat with Jerry see if I can encourage him to take another look at the situation?"

"Be my guest for all the good it will do."

"Ok, is it possible to move some of these people out of here, Marty? They are as innocent as you and they don't deserve to be lumped in with the riff-raff, do they!?"

He thought that over for a time. Marty didn't make decisions lightly or easily and took his time with this one, so it seemed unlikely he'd made the decision to enter the grocery store rashly. Marty took his time to make decisions it seemed so it was unlikely he'd made this one rashly. He'd planned it out in advance. It would take time to change his mind if she could.

Twenty minutes went by and he said, "Angel, Franky, Jerome, Hudson, Macky, Andy, Lisa, Wendy, you go. You've always been good to me, stood for me, been friends. I'm sorry 'bout this."

They stood slowly unsure he really meant what he'd said and when he lowered the gun to his side and pointed with his other hand, they hustled toward the door and out. That was a start, eight fewer hostages was a very good start. And they had a rapport started, that was a good sign. He could be reasoned with.

"You thirsty, Marty, can I order in food or drink?"

"Yeah, coffee would be good."

The weasel hiding behind the woman said, "but there's coffee in the back and there's pop on the shelves."

"I'm sure Marty would feel more comfortable having some fresh coffee and perhaps some donuts. Ever heard the saying, don't look a gift horse in the mouth? Marty's showing consideration for all of us.

"But..."

"Shut up, Jerry, you heard the lady. In five minutes she knows me better than you and you worked with me for 15 years. Shut up and sit down - over there." He pointed to a spot by a cash register alone. "I'm sure Agnes doesn't want you hiding behind her like the cowardly slime that you are."

"Agnes seems like a gentle soul. Can we let her and a couple of the others go too, Marty? You have me, I'm worth gold to the folks out there."

"I've seen you in here before, you always treat the staff kindly, respectfully. I believe in you. Actions, they always speak louder than words." He turned and stared at Jerry, "Always. Words are cheap!" Following another thoughtful pause he said, "ok, the rest of you go now."

Agnes piped up, "What, before the donuts?" Marty grinned. "Yeah, go Agnes. Thank you for always being there, for the smiles and the jokes. You're good people! I'm sorry to have involved you."

"I'll live, Marty. Make sure you do too. See you on the other side, ok?"

The rest of the staff walked out behind her and the only one left was the miserly manager who was huddled on the floor like a whipped dog.

They were all silent for several minutes and the distant ticking of the wall clock sounded louder than a ticking bomb. Amy said, "Looks like our coffee has arrived. Mind if I get it, Marty?"

Training his gun on Jerry he said, "Sure!"

Amy turned and slowly approached the door. She stood sideways so Marty could witness the exchange, see there was nothing untoward going on. Nothing extra passed between her and the delivery guy (DetectiveMonroe).

Walking toward Marty, she slid the tray onto the counter. "What's your pleasure, Marty?"

"Black, two sugar."

"Got it. You interested in a donut?"

"Naw, I can't eat sugar, gives me a sugar high."

"I tend to error on the side of caution too. Long history of diabetes so I try to limit my sugar intake to birthdays and anniversaries," she confided.

The second she'd poured her, Jerry whined, "What about mine?"

"I guess he could have one, hey Marty?"

"Yeah, long as he keeps his distance."

Amy poured a black coffee and when he rose to reach for it she said, "Back off Jerry. You'll get yours in a minute." He dropped onto his butt on the floor with a snarl. "Black, I take it black!"

"No problem." Amy was all sweetness and light. And Marty smirked catching her gist. She was effectively putting Jerry in his place and Marty liked that, liked it a lot!

They sipped coffee without saying anything at all. And when Amy thought the time was right, broached the subject at hand. "I don't know much about you, Marty. One thing I could tell straight away, is that your an honourable upstanding caring man. When you let those people go, there was compassion in your eyes. The way you talked to Agnes, that was real comassion and care. By the same token, I want to offer you my assistance, and have my lawyer, a truly honest man, look into this matter and right the injustice done to you."

"Whose the lawyer?" he asked on a half snarl, "cause the one's I've seen so far, are more interested in lining their own pockets than in true justice."

"This man I can personally vouch for. He's my father. Harold Johnstone. He works solely for victims who haven't received a fair shake or have tallen through the cracks of the justice system. His win rate is exceedingly high since he presents his arguments based completely on fact, and he doesn't let the opposition get away with any bullcrap."

He thought for a moment, and as the wheels turned, she saw hope light his eyes, "You think he'd take my case?"

"I'm sure of it, Marty. Very sure."

"What would I have to do?"

"First of all, let old Jerry here, go. Then hand me your gun, and walk out with me. You may have to suffer the consequences of today's actions, but when I put in a good word, along with the fact you let everyone go, even Jerry over here, without harming anyone, that will go a long way in your favour." She didn't say any more but let him think on what she'd offered.

Time passed slowly but in the blink of an eye; it was an odd feeling, and one she'd never experienced before.

"Ok. I have your word, right?"

"Indeed you have my word, and my word is my bond, and equal to a handshake. I'll personally see this situation through and so will my dad. I'm pretty sure you have a few staunch supporters out there as well," she nodded toward the door.

"Then he can go." Jerry was up and on his feet and scurrying out the door without a backward glance.

"Not much of a human being is he?" Marty observed.

"Would you hand me the gun, Marty, please?" He looked her straight in the eye and held it out to her. She immediately snapped the gun open to find there wasn't a single bullet in the barrel.

She held onto his arm with her left hand to guide him outside. He straightened and walked tall. When she walked him to a waiting squad car she said, "My father will be in touch shortly, Marty."

"Thank you...I don't remember your name," he remarked sadly.

"Amy Johnstone."

"We'll talk soon she said," placing a hand on his head and assisting him inside the car.

"Well done, Johnstone. Well done!"

"Thanks." She listened as good old Jerry ranted and raved about justice and how badly he'd been treated...no one was listening.