Free I Am Gold by Bill James Page A

to stop him riddling others – hostages and/or members of the hit team.
    As long as he remained scared, though, logic might not get a look-in. Impulse and despair ruled. The negotiator had to sneak some balance and sense into him by user-friendly, cooked-up, formula mateyness. His brain should tell him then that he was outnumbered and cornered and the ultimate in no-win prats. The amassing of armed officers and assault gear outside ought to be made very obvious, though not blatantly warlike.
    Of course, he could still kid himself he had some power: that is, his gun, guns, and bullets and his hold on hostages’ lives. But one gun or even two and their bullets wouldn’t do much against the sharpshooter mob surrounding him. And, the lives of the hostages could become a weakness, not an advantage.
    Ultimately, the siege commander might decide (a) negotiating had bombed; (b) an immediate rescue attempt was now unavoidable; and (c) an intervention attack would be recognized as unavoidable by any board of inquiry and/or court hearing that followed: crucial, this. The siege supremo – Gold, ACC Desmond Iles – had two questions to ask, the second one dependent on the first:
    (a) Can negotiations bring the hostages out and disarm the gunman?
    (b) If not, when do we go in to do both?
    Harpur thought Iles might get the answers wrong, or only right in Iles’s individual version of right, which could be wrong.
    Rockmain sat crouched forward, headphones on, a pad nearby. He made continuous notes in very black ink with a proper fountain pen. He was not wearing the green cord suit but a mauve cardigan over a black T-shirt, chinos and desert boots. Although he looked more or less negligible, he wasn’t altogether that. Probably he had come away in a hurry. The gunman’s words, tone, syntax, idioms, pauses, might bring small revelations to Rockmain, and possibly a crowd of small revelations could add up to something worthwhile.
    In any case, there were two other very practical purposes of maintaining a telephone link. If it was a landline connection and you had information about the building’s interior you might be able to fix his location fairly exactly when he spoke: he’d be near the phone, wouldn’t he? Also, to use the instrument would require one of his hands. That meant he did not have two weapons covering his prisoners. This could be relevant when he needed to control anything more than a single hostage. It was very rare for a hostage, hostages, to be hurt or killed while their captor spoke on the telephone to a negotiator.
    â€˜I wouldn’t be surprised if we had quite a lot of talking to do, and it might make things easier, more natural, if we had each other’s names – first names, that is,’ the negotiator said into the phone.
    â€˜Things are not fucking natural, are they? What’s natural about this? I’m stuck in a charity shop. You’re out there with a carbine contingent.’
    â€˜They are only a precaution, believe me.’
    â€˜Yes, I believe you. They’re only a precaution in case you want to shoot my head off. You’d never mention this, would you, but you don’t have to because you know I’ll be thinking it non-stop. What else could I be thinking?’
    â€˜I appreciate you wouldn’t wish to give more than your first name,’ the negotiator replied. ‘This is not an identification matter, is it? But it would help establish a kind of closeness.’
    â€˜I don’t want closeness. I want you to fuck off.’
    â€˜I’m Oliver, known usually as Ol or Olly.’
    â€˜OK, Ol or Olly.’
    â€˜Better like that, wouldn’t you say?’
    â€˜Who for?’
    â€˜And your name, might one ask?’
    â€˜Well, yes, one might. John.’
    â€˜Is that right?’
    â€˜You mean, “Is that right, John?” don’t you? For closeness.’
    â€˜OK, John.’
    â€˜You were hoping