Constable Faith had only recently joined Cleveland Police. After completing her training, South Bank beca her first posting. Though the cri rate in the area was notoriously high, criminal activities generally happened in the shadows. The local gangs followed a peculiar norm... they avoided the station itself. Despite the frequent violence and disorder in the neighbourhood, only those who truly sought help ever ca through the station doors.
Her colleagues were kind to her, and, understanding her inexperience, had assigned her to the front desk duty to help her familiarise herself with how things worked here. In South Bank, patrolling was a delicate affair: officers had to maintain law and order without provoking the local gangs, all while preserving their authority as law enforcent.
That night, Faith sat behind the reception desk just as she had many nights before. This late in the evening, only the desperate tended to co seeking help. Her task was simple... record their identities and direct them to the appropriate desk.
When she saw a young woman push open the glass door, she assud she was there to report so robbery or harassnt. The woman wore a black outfit that resembled a biker’s attire, along with a black face mask. Yet her exposed pale and smooth facial skin, and the confident glint in her eyes, suggested she was a strikingly beautiful woman. Her athletic fra revealed she was no helpless civilian... but in South Bank, even strength could be overwheld.
Then, to Faith’s surprise, the woman held the door open, and another woman entered... this one in a purple business suit, her face uncovered. She was stunning. For a brief mont, Faith stared in silent admiration. "If I weren’t a woman myself," she thought, "I might’ve asked this one out right now."
A third woman followed, and Faith assud they’d all co to file so report.
But then the nightmare began.
Two ard n strode in behind them, followed by several more... each clad in black, carrying heavy firearms. To Faith, they looked more like soldiers than criminals.
She froze, her mind racing. "Should I press the alarm? Should I scream?" Her mind raced. But they gave her no chance to decide. One of the black-clad n pointed his gun directly at her head.
"Hands up. Make no sound. Do not move. You know what’s good for you."
It was the first ti Faith had stared down the barrel of a gun. Her heart thudded violently in her chest. It took her nearly a full minute to process the reality. Slowly, she raised her hands, showing she was no threat.
From the corner of her eye, she glanced across the ground hall... every officer present was already at gunpoint.
"Who are these people?" she thought. "Are they special forces? Or has the station truly been overtaken?"
The first three won... who’d initially seed like civilians, were escorted directly to the Inspector’s office by two ard guards who stood watch outside. That, at least, gave Faith a flicker of hope. If they’re going straight to the Inspector, perhaps they’re not a gang. Maybe this is so kind of secret operation.
But her hope quickly vanished.
The ard n disard the entire station, seizing every weapon in the building, and then ordered all the officers to the eting room. The muzzles of their guns never dropped. They forced each officer to sit around the large, round table.
There were fifteen chairs in the room, but only seven officers were present during the current shift. Once everyone was seated, one of the intruders demanded they place all their electronic devices on the table. A basket was passed around, and the devices were promptly collected and left outside the room.
Faith complied without hesitation, placing both her work and personal mobiles in the basket.
One of her fellow officers, however, tried to hide a phone in his pocket.
The intruders weren’t fooled.
They retrieved the scanner from the front desk, ran it over the room, and caught the hidden signal imdiately. They marched up to him and without a word... delivered two vicious slaps that echoed around the room. The sound was so sharp, Faith winced. Everyone else visibly flinched.
Now there was no doubt in her mind: they were hostages.
All the procedures from her training rushed into her mory... how to rescue hostages, how to de-escalate threats. But no one had ever trained her on what to do when she was the hostage. That left her feeling powerless and frustrated.
Still, she had one last hope. Her Inspector. "If anyone can negotiate us out of this, it’s him," she thought.
***
Inspector G. Reynolds was one of the most seasoned officers in the Cleveland Police Force. A veteran negotiator with a reputation for level-headed thinking under pressure, he had been specifically assigned to South Bank... an area plagued by gangs and high cri, because of his unmatched ability to keep volatile situations under control.
So, when a woman like sothing out of a fairy tale walked into his office... unannounced and unescorted, his brows rose. But his face remained unreadable. She wore a purple business suit, tailored to perfection, and carried herself with such unshakable composure that Reynolds knew at once she wasn’t just anyone. He was struck not only by her beauty but by the confidence with which she entered... as though the station already belonged to her.
Behind her, two more won followed. One was dressed entirely in black, her build and posture unmistakably that of a trained bodyguard. The other appeared unremarkable... nervous, quiet... exactly the sort of face he saw at the front desk daily.
His eyes flicked toward the open door where two ard n stood like statues, both carrying military-grade weapons. It confird his suspicion: sothing had happened to his station.
Still, he stayed calm. He was a negotiator, after all.
The woman in purple wasted no ti. "Could you have soone bring a cup of coffee? I ca straight from work. I need one badly. Oh! black. No sugar, please."
The boldness of the request montarily caught Reynolds off guard. He had expected demands or threats... certainly not a beverage order. Trying to maintain an air of control, he reached for his desk intercom and pressed the call button.
Nothing. The line was dead.
He frowned and reached for his mobile. No signal.
The woman smiled gently. "Ah, apologies. I should’ve ntioned... all communications in the station have been disabled. Mobiles, landlines, everything. Completely isolated."
He looked at her sharply, tension rising in his mind.
She turned her head slightly. "Isadora, would you mind asking soone to bring us three cups of coffee?"
The woman in black gave a nod and stepped out.
The woman in purple gestured to the third woman. "Livia, dear, why are you standing? Sit beside ."
Livia obeyed, hesitantly taking the seat beside her with the look of soone unsure whether she was inside a police station or a high-stakes thriller.
The woman turned back to Reynolds with a charming smile. "Apologies, Inspector. Where are my manners? I’m Eleanor Raynor. Please don’t bother searching the internet. I’m nobody. Though, if you’re curious, you could always ring your colleagues in Manchester. They’ll know ."
She leaned back gracefully.
"I’ve co all the way to Middlesbrough to rescue a friend. I believe she’s currently sowhere within your jurisdiction."
She gave a small nod toward Livia. "This is my friend Livia. She’s the one who received the distress call. And of course, I’m a law-abiding citizen... so it only makes sense I begin with a visit to the local authorities. After all, how could one possibly conduct a rescue operation without police cooperation?"
Reynolds remained silent, analysing every word, tone, and gesture. "This woman clearly has resources. Private security, military weapons, a network capable of disabling communications... but she doesn’t claim to be from any official force. Then why is she here... and what exactly does she want?"
As if reading his thoughts, Eleanor’s smile thinned slightly.
"Don’t worry, Inspector. We’ve already located the position of my friend. My team is handling it. I don’t require any assistance from your departnt... I simply ask that you don’t interfere."
Her voice remained calm, polite, almost friendly.
"My people are... very efficient. If soone from your station were to get in their way, they might not respond with much courtesy. I’d like to avoid that. So, it’s better for all of us if we enjoy a cup of coffee while they complete the task."
At that mont, the door opened and one of the black-uniford guards stepped in, carrying a tray with three steaming cups. He set it down on the desk.
"Ma’am, your coffee. Do you require anything else?"
"No, thank you," Eleanor replied with a nod. "Is everything all right with the officers?"
"Yes. Everyone is secured in the eting room. Aside from one officer with... red cheeks, the rest are unhard."
"Good. Return to your post."
As the guard exited, Reynolds caught a clear glimpse of his weapon: a Heckler & Koch MP5... real military hardware. The guard’s bearing was unmistakably that of a trained soldier. This isn’t so rcenary team. These are professionals.
Eleanor handed out the coffee. One cup was set before the inspector, one in front of Livia, and she kept the last for herself.
"Please, Inspector," she said softly, "have a sip. It’s always wise to take a pause and recharge before a long night."
He took the cup reluctantly, watching her carefully.
But before he could speak, Eleanor gestured again.
"Isadora, the box, please."
Isadora stepped forward and placed an elegantly wrapped paper box on the table. Eleanor gently slid it across to Reynolds.
"Please open it. Consider it a gesture of goodwill... for the inconvenience, the disruption... and for taking so of your valuable ti. As I said, I am a law-abiding citizen."
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