CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE - The Negotiator

MIKE - I'll bet you're wondering about that title. Well, guys, lemme tell ya, it's usually a lot more fun trackin' down the bad guys and givin' 'em a good once-over, but it's not very often ya get introduced to them. Such as the case we just wrapped up. It seems a disgruntled ex-employee of some company stormed in, started shootin' off a few rounds, and took all of his ex-co-workers hostage. The day begins when one of the bosses who was lucky enough to escape, comes poundin' on our doors.

EDDIE - Me-n-Mike were in the weight room when we heard our doorbell ring off the hook and the door was really bein' banged on. Turns out it was a CEO of some office who escaped a seizure, and was havin' one at our front door.

MIKE - I let him in and says to him, I says, "Batz here, how can I help you?"

The guy was real shaken and ashen, his mouth was tremblin', he was stutterin' as he handed me his card. The name said Edward Wallingford, CEO of Purile Polyester Plastics. I ushered him into our living room, asked hin to sit down. Eddie offers him a beer or something, and the guy wanted straight scotch. Heh, how do ya like that - 2 in the afternoon and the guy's already beltin' 'em back. I guess ya can't blame him, after nearly gettin' taken prisoner, that is.

"Oh, Detectives, I'm so glad I was able to find you. You would not believe what's happened at the office. We recently let a man go, and he broke in earlier and was heavily armed and shot up the whole office."

Eddie interjects, "was anyone hurt?"

"Not at the time I fled, which was within the past hour, but you never know what he might've done in the meantime."

"So where do we come into the picture?"

"I need someone to talk to him. I understand you two are quite good at interrogations and such. You always get your man, according to what I hear."

"That's right - nothin' much gets past us."

"That's what I'm hoping for."

Eddie asks, "is there any reason you didn't call the police first."

The man pauses, then scoffs, "are you joking? The officers in this town can't even issue a parking ticket to the right vehicle. I had to waste an entire day in traffic court, only to be told it was for another vehicle with a similar license plate. And to top it all off, the lummox didn't even show up for the hearing, so it was all thrown away, including my afternoon."

I see Eddie furrow his brow and tilt his head a little. He rubs his fist with his other hand and looks back and forth between ol' man Wallingford and me. I look up at Eddie with an expression that says, "you sense something wrong?" and Eddie gives me a nod and a double wink. The kid is a total boy wonder - always sniffin' out trouble, and he smells it here. Not sure why, but he senses it. Anyway, I go on talkin' to this guy.

"What's the guy's name?"

Wallingford takes a sip and says, "uh, what?"

"The name of the guy you let go."

"Casey - Bob Casey. He worked in manufacturing."

"What did he do - to get the axe, that is?"

"Oh, his performance was questionable, and he was always late, didn't have a decent attitude or a good work ethic. Those are the things that made me what I am today. I've been working since I was 15. I had to take over as the breadwinner in our house after my father passed away. I went to school during the day, worked very hard all night. It was very difficult, but did I complain? You best believe I did not. I knew what the right thing to do was - and I always did the right thing..."

more glances between me-n-Eddie

"...and I expected all of my employees to follow suit. I've always encouraged them, strongly, to report early and stay late. I always pay a fair wage and I always believe in getting the very best out of all of my underlings, pushing them to the nth degree until they saw the inner ability to produce that they didn't even know they had in themselves. This man, Casey, always wanted a raise, said he had a wife and baby to support. That wasn't my problem - I'm not the one who put a gun to his head and made him do it, and then he comes to me expecting me to solve all of his problems, oh, the very nerve of it."

Eddie was lookin' like he'd had just about enough, "so what about this hostage crisis? Did he give you any demands?"

"Well, for starters, he wants his job back, says he was fired unfairly."

"You said his performance was questionable - what exactly did he do?"

"Oh, he worked the bare minimum, that's what he did. When he was in the middle of something, his supervisor would ask him to drop what he was doing and take on another task, but, no, he insisted on finishing what he started. He weas very insubordinate that way, and, of course, there was the raise thing."

Now, I was thinkin' I'd had just about enough.

"Ya know, Mr, Wallingford, now that we've established the problem here, maybe it's time me-n-my partner go off to the site to negotiate with this guy - ya never know if he might've shot somebody, or what else he may have done."

"Yes, yes, yes, I see - oh, by all means - I left a building full of terrified employees, not to mention the interruption of business, this isn't very productive on his part, you know."

Me-n-Eddie look at each other, then back at old man Wallingford.

"Right - now, you go back home and relax, God knows you've had a pretty trying day so far - we'll take over from here."

"The boss is right - we'll give this guy a good talking to and restore order to your office faster than you can say Eddie Robinson."

"Uh, sorry, detective, but that's JACKIE Robinson."

"Not in this office, Wallingford - that's the boy's name, Eddie Robinson. It's a little joke of his."

"Uh-huh. Yes, well, anyway, gentlemen, see what you can do. The losses could be staggering."

"Yeah, I know what you mean - the loss of any innocent life...."

"No, no , no - the loss of any hard-earned dollar, my boy. Keep me posted on your progress, would you?"

I give him a cold hard stare, "sure...anything you say, there."

Wallingford leaves - and thank God, too.

"Holy Norma Rae, Boss-Man - do ya think he's pullin' something?"

"Meaning is there a hostage crisis at all, and if so, does he seem to not care in the sleatest?"

"The what? Oh, I think you mean the slightest."

He's right - I tend to confuse two words I wanna say and can't make up my mind - the least and the slightest become THE SLEATEST.

Okay, enough from the old English major - we got some lives to save - maybe.

Since me-n-Eddie were both working out at the time of Wallingford's visit, we were both wearing tee-shirts and gym shorts, and were both a little sweaty. Eddie clenched his fist and put it up to his chest and said,

"This guy was actin' a bit too fishy for my liking. How do we know what we're gettin' into?"

I wrapped my right arm around his shoulders, and put my left hand on his left bi-cep, my left arm showin' some muscle as I lifted it up, my tee-shirt sleeve riding up about half an inch. I clenched my teeth as I whispered,

"That's a chance we have to take. Best thing to do is be prepared for anything. Innocent lives are at stake. We uphold the law at any cost with God on our side."

I turned Eddie around to face me and the two of us kissed passionately, we could both feel each other getting a hard-on and we pulled each other as far into each other as we could.

Eddie started to tremble, "oh, gosh, Boss-Man, I love it when you get macho, your virtuosity and righteousness turns me on. I gotta have you."

"You can have me anytime you want, 'cuz I want you, too. I wanna make love to that body that stands at my side when we face our felonious foes. I get hard when you stand by my side and look up at me like I'm your mentor."

"You are my mentor, my teacher, my lover, my rock."

I felt a little pre-cum oozing out of me. I wanted to save it for when we're both naked and intertwined.

"Oh, God, Eddie, let's make love right here and now. I have to have your mouth in mine."

"How about in the shower?"

"Good plan".
----------------------------
We get out to the stand-off site and get out of the car. It was a pretty eerie atmosphere, not a single sound.

"Gosh, Boss-Man, I don't like this. It's too quiet."

"Yes. He could be lying in wait. Better get the riot shields."

"Check"

I also grab the megaphone and try to get Casey's attention. Me-n-Eddie each hold a riot shield, just in case he opens fire on us.

"Bob Casey! I know you're in there! I'm Detective Mike Batz - I wanna talk to ya!"

He appears at a window - he's grossly overweight with disheveled hair, and a scruffy beard, wearing old work clothes, not to mention the gun in his hand. Not aimed at anyone in particular, but he's still holdin'.

"Why don't ya drop the gun and let's talk."

"Who sent ya here? Was it that son-of-a-bitchin' coward that canned me?"

"Guy's name was Wallingford, wasn't it?"

And with that, the gun was raised and aimed, me-n-Eddie whip out the shields toot-sweet.

"DOWN! SHIELDS!"

The bullets fly, hitting our shields with brute force. We crouch down behind them - Eddie's arms extend to hold the shield at, well, arm's length from his body. He does flinch a little every time the shield is hit, I can see it in his face.

"Just hang on, boy, hang on - don't let that shield slip one inch."

"Gotcha boss - but, boy do those bullets pack a whallop!"

I knew he'd have no trouble keeping the shield in place. His arms, besides being downright gorgeous and hot, were rock-solid, could toss a bad-guy across the room and knock him unconscious with a single punch, and could also embrace me and make me forget the troubles of the world around us. Now, they're extended, rigid, bulging, every red-blooded American vein popping out. He's wearing shorts today, too, it is kinda warm outside. The muscles in his legs which support him as he crouches as he supports the shield which leaves him unscathed. He doesn't suffer a single bullet wound - not even a graze. If it wasn't for this mess we're in now, we'd be having the hottest sex imaginable. You just read my description of the boy and imagine for yourself. Hopefully one day all you suit-daddies like me will meet up with a golden boy like the one I got.

EDDIE - Holy pillar of strength - Mike sure is one - not breaking a sweat even as each bullet seems to hit harder and harder with each shot. You should see him - staring straight ahead, not moving a muscle, not flinching one bit - like I did. He even reassured me to hang on. You talk about love. Someone who knows you to have more strength than you realize in yourself. His body is so rock-solid, you'd think he was born bulletproof. I'd love to take him right now if this maniac wasn't firing on us.

MIKE - the shooting stops. Me-n-Eddie look at each other as if to ask "is he done yet?" and just as we're thinking of putting the shields away, we change our minds. Instead, I raise up the megaphone and try to talk to this guy again.

"Casey - this Mexican Stand-off isn't getting us anywhere. I know you don't really wanna hurt us - or any of your hostages..."

POW - a shot is fired, and clips off a piece of my "bull-horn". The shooting resumes, he's re-loaded his weapon.

"Ya wanna bet? I should kill all of ya - my co-workers who probably snitched on me - and you guys for having anything to do with that prick Wallingford."

I could see this guy means business and there's only one way to get at him - if we advance behind the shields and make him realize we're not gonna take this crouched behind plexiglas. Me-n-Eddie agree we gotta go in there. We get closer and closer, ignoring all the ammo blasting all around us. It was then the bad guy finally stops.

"All right - all right! I'll stop - I give up"

EDDIE - We hear him telling all the hostages to get out now - while the gettin's good - before he changes his mind. They all flee.

"The hostages are out now, but I want somethin' in return."

Holy bargaining table - what was it!

"Ya wanna talk to me? Fine - you get in here, then. Drop the shields and come in here with your hands up and your pieces on the ground."

"Boss - I thought we were gonna get him to surrender - instead, we are!"

"For now - it's just a ploy - like a boxer in a ring who lets his opponent get his punches out first - tiring him out, then he really lets him have it."

"I sure hope it works."

"No prob - it always does - we're good guys, remember?"

We go inside. He waves the gun in the direction of two chairs he wants us to sit in, hands always up where he can see 'em. This is smelling more and more like a trap. What is he going to do with us? I'm afraid we're just gonna have to cruise and find out bit by bit.

He opens the chamber on his gun and shows us four bullets - two for each of us.

"Now you decide how this thing is gonna go. You two slugs can avoid taking my slugs if ya do the right thing."

"And what's that?"

"I dunno - you tell me."

"What's this whole thing about, anyway, Casey? Is it revenge against the old man?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it."

"Then why didn't ya shoot him earlier? Why'd ya take the whole office hostage?"

"They all thought they could control me. Bob, do this, Bob, do that. You're doin' it wrong. You're late, you're gettin' wrote up. You - you- you. It was never their fault. I did everything wrong in their eyes. I figured now, the tables are turned."

Eddie interjects - "So you wanna take us hostage and murder us by proxy."

"Huh?"

"Using us to get back at Wallingford, the way he hired us to get to you. You say the outcome depends on us - I'm afraid it depends on you, too, my friend. You could tell us what your demands are and, since we're already between you and the old man, we could help you guys settle your differences. But not here. All of us need to be in the same room, on equal footing. If you cooperate, you may still be facing charges, but they'll be lessened, depending on your willingness to work with us. You're still doin' good. I know you don't really wanna use that gun. You don't have to."

Casey thinks for a second and kinda grins, sayin' "you're right - I don't wanna use this on you, and I ain't gotta."

Me-n-Eddie look at each other and smile. We're relieved. This is gonna be resolved quickly. The worst is over.

WANNA BET? THE WORST HAS JUST BEGUN - FOR AT THE MOMENT MIKE AND EDDIE MOMENTARILY DROP THEIR GUARD, THEY'RE AMBUSHED FROM BEHIND WITH RAGS OF CHLOROFORM. THEY STRUGGLE, OF COURSE.

"HOLY SUCKER PUNCH!"

"HOLD YOUR BREATH BOY! DON'T BREATHE...ANYTHING....IN!"

BUT IT'S TOO LATE - THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER ONE LAST TIME BEFORE THEY FALL SIDE BY SIDE.

CASEY LOOKS AT THE UNCONSCIOUS PAIR AND SNARLS, "I ain't gonna kill you with this, but I got somethin' else in mind. Good goin', Ace. You know you oughta become one of them knock-out guys at the hospital."

His henchman, Ace, laughs and says, "so, whatcha gonna do with these guys? Ya gonna rope and tie 'em? Ya gonna shoot 'em?"

"Naw, naw, we got past that point. I promised I wouldn't shoot 'em and I meant it. You never seen this, but this place has an oven in the back, baking the plastic things into shape, like a kiln or somethin' they call it. It's big enough to fit these two losers in it at the same time."

Ace laughs some more, "the cooked crimefighters, the grilled gumshoe and the boy fried, eh?"

"Uh, Ace, can we kill 'em first and do the nicknames later? I want these boys baked before the chloroform wears off."

"Oh yeah! Sorry"

"That's cool - I'll grab the suit daddy and you get the kid."

HOLY HORRORS! THE DASHIN' DETECTIVES VICTIMS OF A KILLIN' IN A KILN? AN OVEN OBLITERATION? KEEP READING FOR THE FIERY FINALE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!