All Five Digits

 242.

I quickly insert the communications earbud into my left ear and ask Mustang to do likewise. "Run the plates and get me something stat," I tell her, "and while I am breaking every hostage negotiation rule in the books, get the R700 from under the back seat set up and trained on the Explorer's left front headlight. I'll tell you when."

As we scramble the unmistakable roto-hum of an overhead police helicopter fills the unnerving quiet. I use the com to instruct the pilot and crew of my plan. "We're out of time, let's make this happen."  

Carefully I grab one of the aluminum crutches and open the SUV door. I hold my ID overhead with my right hand and then display the Glock which I gently place on the sidewalk. "We can work this out," I bellow, "nobody has to get hurt."

The man at the wheel of the Explorer shouts out the window, "I thought you creeps don't negotiate with terrorists?"

"Under normal circumstances you are correct, but we have no intel suggesting that you fit that description, so how about we do a little horse trading?" I try, fingers crossed.

"Like what?"

With this response I know we have a chance, a slim one, but an illuminated path towards compromise none-the-less. I glare upward at the chopper and see the sniper in position. "We have you surrounded and both ends of the street are barricaded. There are two ways out of this and its your call which of them it will be. One is we open up and call for clean up, and two is you put your weapons down and release the two innocent people to our custody."

"What part do you not understand that we will cap Mom and the kid if you don't back off and let us pass?" The driver hollers in response, introducing a third option.

Mustang relays her search intel, "vehicle is registered to a Jeremy Covington, currently on parole for several B&E's and a handful of arrests for involvement with anti-government right wing supremacists. Divorced, two kids, twins, 7 years old, last known address in Norfolk, VA."

"Oh yes, I understand completely, that is exactly why we bargain, for mutual benefit, so here is our best and final offer: Let them go and I will personally see to it that you are NOT charged as terrorists, that your parole isn't violated and…"

The masked accomplice sitting shotgun has heard and seen enough. He bolts open the passenger side door, tosses his weapon away and kneels with hands behind his head screaming for "don't shoot" mercy.

During the dramatic scene my gaze has been fixed upon the driver, whom I am trusting to be Mr. Covington.  

"…and what?" he shouts, "you were about to add a third condition to the trade."

"Well, actually, now I am going to add TWO more. Time is up Jeremy. You're alone. Toss the sawed-off out the window and do exactly what your assistant just did, or THREE we will do to your forehead what my backup will now do to your ride," the Explorer's left headlight explodes into a thousand shards of shattered glass, "and FOUR, you can live to see the twins again." I pause to allow him to process the terms and conditions of his salvation. "FIVE seconds to make the trade Jeremy." I hold my right hand up for him to see all five digits and then tuck in the thumb, the index, the middle and the ring.