One month later, she found herself whistling a tune as she drove north on Route 95. Finishing up her paperwork at the local field office, she began her long trip to the Crisis Negotiation Unit back at Quantico, to conclude the rest of her more-than-likely tedious week and talk to the boss about any loose ends. Today had brought all the memories back and she felt emotionally drained. After eight hours in surgery and a long stay in the ICU, there were no serious repercussions, although the deep scar just under her hairline on the back of her neck, served as a blatant reminder. She had never forgiven herself for letting a psychopath like that get back on the streets. But CJ's heroic act had ended with a bullet in her head and the perp getting away.
A federal agent could be good leverage in a dire situation, so he had eventually agreed to the switch. Using the “ you have control here but having me as a hostage would get you a whole lot more money and a means of escape ” routine, she had somehow talked him into it. Even though agents are never supposed to offer themselves as bait or replacements, she had come to the conclusion that the demented, drug-induced state of the man who had invaded an Elementary school, would surely lead to the death of the children if she hadn't talked him into the exchange. Two years ago, Special Agent Ciara Carson had received a commendation for her bravery in a hostage situation where she traded herself for three children. It violently threw CJ back to the day she had been the victim of a very similar incident. Of the two he had killed, one had been shot in the back of the head.
The perp in this case had taken eighteen hostages, including bank staff and customers. She had found this situation particularly difficult. ‘ Why can't I just take genuine praise from people the way it's intended? ' she mused. You know, you're a damn good operative and I know you'll come to realize…”ĬJ phased him out, her mind drifting off through disinterest and sheer exhaustion. “You know as well as I do, Agent, that you work too hard. “Maybe I'll put in for it as soon as we get back to the field office.” Some time off might be just what you need,” Mark said, in a more conciliatory tone. Maybe I should take a vacation.” She flipped her long, black ponytail over her shoulder and stretched out the kinks in her neck. I haven't had any time off for five weeks. Forcing her anger back, she jammed her fists in her pockets. She decided from the sharp look directed back at her, that she had pushed this conversation a little too far. Just back off, okay?” CJ spat back, leaning heavily on the use of his first name to emphasize the familiarity point. “There's no such thing as ‘acceptable losses' in my negotiations, Mark. That's an acceptable percentage, considering this guy was a complete and utter nut.” You only lost two hostages out of eighteen. “CJ, you really are being too hard on yourself. It seemed now, that he was being a little too familiar with her and it made her uncomfortable. She, of course, had been completely sober, never having found alcohol very appealing and had deflected his rather weak advances nicely. She had worked with him many times before and he'd made it clear, in one rare drunken declaration that he found her attractive. A tall thin man, with narrow features, he had a kindness in his dark eyes and they seemed to twinkle as he studied her. Standing outside the National Provincial Bank in the middle of the night, surrounded by flashing lights and various squad cars, AD Mark Mulroney was trying to convince her that she did good.
It was the end of another difficult hostage situation for FBI negotiator, Ciara Jane Carson. The characters in this Uber will be back, but each ‘episode' will conclude in each story.Ĭomments and/or opinions can be sent to * * * * * Chapter 1 Many, many thanks to my beta-reader, Norsebard. If such a story frightens you, you better click on the X in the top right corner of your screen right away. This story depicts a sexual relationship between consenting adult women. Readers who are disturbed by or sensitive to this type of depiction may wish to read something other than this story. This story contains scenes of violence (psychological as well as physical), some of which are directed at women. No infringement of their rights is intended, and no profit is gained. The registered trademarks mentioned in this story are © of their respective owners. Any resemblance of the characters portrayed to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No identification with actual persons is intended nor should be inferred.
This romantic thriller is an Uber, however all characters are created by me.Īll characters depicted, names used, and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious. Wendy Arthur - After The Storm “After The Storm” By Wendy Arthur
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