High Noon

boxing yourself in, holing up in this place we’ve made here. You have that drink and that conversation tomorrow with this good-looking man. That’s an order.”
    Amused, Phoebe angled her head. “So it’s do what you say, not what you do?”
    “Exactly. Mother’s privilege.”
    “I guess I will, then.” She rose, walked to the door, turned back. “Mama? No online shopping for Carly this weekend.”
    “Oh?” The single syllable resounded disappointment.
    “Mother’s privilege,” Phoebe echoed, then headed off to work.

3
    Phoebe took her place at the front of the room. She had twenty-five cops in this training session, a mix of uniforms and plainclothes of varying ranks.
    A good portion of them, she knew, didn’t want to be there.
    “Today, I’m going to talk about the tactical role of the negotiator in a crisis or hostage situation. First, are there any questions regarding yesterday’s session?”
    A hand shot up. Phoebe swallowed her instinctive annoyance. Officer Arnold Meeks, third-generation cop. Bullheaded, belligerent and bigoted, in Phoebe’s opinion, with a thick layer of macho over it.
    “Officer Meeks?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” His smile usually started out as a smirk, and often stayed there. “You talked down a jumper the other day, St. Patrick’s Day?”
    “That’s correct.”
    “Well, ma’am, I was interested in some of the particulars, seeing as we’re in this training session with you. Now, I was curious, as it appears you broke some of the rules of negotiation during this incident. Unless being FBI-trained, as you are, things are different for you. Is that the case?”
    Her early federal training would always rub some of the rank and file the wrong way. They’d just have to live with it. “Which rules did I break, Officer Meeks?”
    “Well, ma’am—”
    “You can use my rank, Officer, as I do yours.”
    She watched annoyance flicker over his face. “The subject was armed, but you engaged him face-to-face, without cover.”
    “That’s correct. It’s also correct that a negotiator should avoid, if possible, any face-to-face with an armed subject. However, circumstances may call for it, and we’ll be covering that area of crisis situation in the role-playing sessions in the second half of this course.”
    “Why—”
    “I’m getting to that. In my opinion, the incident on St. Patrick’s Day called for a face-to-face. In point of fact, most jumpers respond better to this method. The subject had no history of violent behavior, and had not fired the weapon. In a situation such as the one on St. Patrick’s Day, I, as negotiator, had to assess and weigh the advantages and disadvantages of going face-to-face. In my opinion, the advantages far outweighed the risks. As we’ve already covered the other considerations regarding face-to-face in a previous session—”
    “Ma’am—Lieutenant,” Arnie corrected, with just enough hesitation to make sure she knew it was deliberate. “Is it also correct you provided the subject with alcohol?”
    I bet you have a really little dick, Phoebe thought, but nodded. “I provided the subject, at his request, with a beer. Providing alcohol to a subject during negotiations is not encouraged, but neither is it forbidden. This tack would be up to the negotiator, his or her sense of the situation and evaluation of the subject.”
    “Get him drunk enough, maybe he’d just fall off the roof.” Arnie’s comment got a few snickers. Phoebe inclined her head, let them die off.
    “Next time you’re on a ledge, Officer, I’ll remember you get drunk off one beer and bring you a nice Coca-Cola instead.”
    That got more than snickers, and noting the angry red wash over Arnie’s face, Phoebe cut through them. “As I’ve said, repeatedly, while there are guidelines for negotiations, the negotiator must be flexible, be able to evaluate, to think on his or her feet.”
    “But you agree providing alcohol or drugs is risky?”
    “Certainly. My gauge in this case was it was low risk. The subject did not demand alcohol; he very politely asked if he might have a beer. Bringing him one gave him something he wanted, and allowed him some control, allowed him to exchange that beer for his word not to use his weapon on me, to allow me to come out and speak with him. Just you wait,” she ordered Arnie before he could open his smirking mouth again.
    Then she paused to make certain her tone would be calm and cool. “The preservation of life is and