Negotiating Point by Adrienne Giordano Page A

it when he came out. Yes, she’d allow herself to believe it. Allow the words to convince her that he would indeed walk out.
    * * *
    Joe lowered his gun and Gavin’s head throbbed.
    Not home yet.
    “No!” Shotgun-Guy yelled.
    When it came to the idiot under his foot, Gavin’s insistence on a nonviolent resolution quickly dissolved. He leaned in, adding extra pressure this time. “You shut up.”
    His gaze solid on Shotgun-Guy, Joe said, “I’m done. I have a son to think about.”
    “Pussy!”
    This dumbass wouldn’t shut the hell up. Gavin leaned in harder. “Are you gonna keep quiet or do I have to shoot you?”
    Shotgun-Guy bobbed his head. Finally. Gavin eased up, then swung his gun back to Joe. “I need you to put the gun on the floor and kick it toward the door.”
    Half a second later, his shoulders stooped, Joe set the gun on the battered wood floor and slid it away.
    “Good. Now, on the floor. Hands on top of your head.”
    Joe did as he was told. “Rox, come around this way and grab that gun. Please.”
    Not until Gavin had that weapon secured and Roxann out of this hellish place would he be relieved. A surrender could disintegrate in a thousand different ways. A thousand different ways that included dead hostage takers, dead hostages and dead negotiators.
    None of which appealed.
    * * *
    By the time Janet got to the road, Vic had Michael wedged behind the cover of a tree. Another conversation she’d be totally inept at.
    She concentrated on the house and the quiet country air. The rustle of leaves. Chirping birds. All the pleasant sounds.
    All the sounds that didn’t include gunshots.
    Maybe they’d get out of this. She held the radio to her lips. “Gavin? What’s happening?”
    Silence.
    Dammit. He’d better not die, that’s all she had to say. But that fierce, nagging panic seized her and her stomach pitched and rolled and rolled again. She didn’t want to imagine his body riddled with bullet holes, blood seeping, stealing the life from him.
    She picked up her pace, walked by the tree toward the driveway.
    “Hey!” Vic yelled. “Where the hell are you going?”
    She kept walking.
    “Well, goddammit,” Vic said and suddenly she was yanked backward, stumbling against her boss.
    Janet blinked a couple of times, zoomed in on the taut features of his face. Mad face.
    “I need you to get it together. You’ve got no vest on, no helmet and you’re about to walk into a hot zone. I don’t have time for you to get nuts on me. Got it?”
    But I think I love him.
    There it was, the admission to herself. The risking her life because a simple crush had grown into a deep yearning. Emotionally, she’d known it after that first kiss three weeks ago. Intellectually, she didn’t want to admit it.
    Vic snapped his fingers in front of her face. “You in there?”
    She nodded. “I’ve got it. Sorry.”
    And then her radio crackled. Thank God. “We’re coming out,” Gavin said. “Send the men in to secure the HTs.”
    Various sounds and colors exploded in her head. The chaos breaking free. Her body sagged with relief—or maybe it was simply exhaustion.
    What a damned day.
    Michael lurched away from the tree, but Vic rammed a hand into his chest. “Wait. Let’s get it cleared.”
    Monk led the team into the house and seconds later the front door opened. Roxann stepped onto the porch with Gavin on her heels. Movement from the right drew Janet’s attention and she watched as Michael shoved Vic and sprinted down the driveway.
    Wow. Who knew the boss could run like that?
    “Mike!” Vic yelled.
    Janet grabbed Vic’s arm. “Let him go.”
    I know how he feels. Gavin ushered Roxann down the porch stairs and she held her arms open for her charging husband, who nearly knocked her backward. They held on for a long minute, just the two of them in that blasted driveway, clinging to each other, offering shelter from this horrid, horrid day.
    Wow.
    Without warning, the vile sadness Janet had buried in the