Hostage Stories Novels & Stories

she said, her gaze lowering as she whispered her fears. Girl (4)—the voice of uncertainty in the cabin—added to the somber atmosphere. "After that, I'm not sure where we will end up." Inside the cabin, the grim reality of their situation weighed heavily on the 15 or 17 girls who were hostages. They had all arrived here through different means, betrayed by friends, boyfriends, or trusted individuals. The gang that held them had shown their cruelty, mistreating some of the girls. Among the captives, a girl who seemed to possess a celebrity-like presence; her name was Hazel, and she had been duped by a woman, finding herself trapped in this nightmarish ordeal. As she spoke, her eyes narrowed wi

Three days after the standoff. The world had decided the story was over. Headlines cycled through the news like seasons. DON CROSS’S WIFE ENDS HOSTAGE CRISIS. TRAFFICKING NETWORK DISMANTLED. BISHOP ARRESTED IN CATHEDRAL RAID. Sophia’s face was on every channel, in every paper, beside every breathless commentary about the woman who had talked down a bomber with nothing but words and a hand on her stomach.She hated it.Not the attention itself—she could endure attention. She’d endured worse. She hated the story they were telling. The “brave wife” narrative. The damsel who’d found her voice. As if her courage was a footnote to Dominic’s empire, a supporting role in his story, a human interest an

Sarah slept for almost twenty hours, and I got in a good seven myself. I don’t think Whitfield or Wilson slept at all, spinning the story into a saga of restraint and wisdom that made Sarah and I both seem almost mystical in our actions. I demanded that the others involved got coverage as well, except for the children, of course. When the last hostage was retrieved, the last fake bomb cleared, and the last terrorist in jail, I stood in front of the cameras and thanked everyone I could think of, Sarah standing by my side. Then she lost the paparazzi on the way home and instead went to the correctional facility where they were holding Dr. Hayes.

I can’t let the darkness take over. I hustle her down the hall, swiping her badge and using it to open the door. She angles her face to the camera above it and mouths the word, help. Too bad for her a simple hack on site has them looping the nathane recording over and over. Besides, I already tranquilized the two guys monitoring the entrance. Security is tight, but no system is impenetrable. It’ll be tricky to get out with a hostage, but so far so good. Hostages aren’t really my style, but if she’s telling the truth about Johnson and Santiago, she’s my closest link to them. That, and the data drive burning a hole in my pocket.

I squeak in fear “Our hostage situations mean something different than yours.” “What does it mean?” “It means that they are going to keep them partying until we get there and learn what they would like.” Slipping his arm around my waist, he chuckles at my confusion. “We get everything that we want. If they want something, we just talk about it. Anger and fighting normally happen because of disagreements. True hostage situations aren’t a thing here. No one is ever in danger unless you consider an abundance of coffee and pastries a danger. Normally they will try and sway the person they are hanging out with to believe in the words and needs. It isn’t anything serious at all. Probably just want

Mario snatched his bag from some old man and nodded to me that he was finished. As part of the plan, we needed a hostage as an insurance if things went south. The bank teller with the blue eyes was cute enough and no one wants an old wrinkled man as a hostage. I grabbed her wrist and ignoring her yelps, dragged her along with me as we made our exit.

There were heights of crime in each of the cities, they took several hostages throughout the week, in itself, every time they appeared, and a hero emerged, the villains used children as a shield. When then, in which there were several cases of kidnappings throughout the week. Leticia Lane was covering the superhero story about murdering innocents. - Leticia. - Perry said in front of him in the daily planet's newsroom. - You are dismissed for the rest of the month. - He said.

Unlike the other girls who were allowed to pick their cage of choice and enter, Morn had chosen to push Rivera in. Fury surged through Rivera and she raised her head. Morn lifted her chin, daring Rivera to do her worst. Rivera took a deep breath. Everyone there seemed to have an issue with her because she was the feisty one. Were they all insane? When did trying to escape from a bad situation become a crime? All the girls stepped into their respective cages. The cages lifted smoothly into the air. Rivera fell in number 21—the last. Rivera clamped her hands together and curled into the cage. Her body shook as she realized that she might have to be displayed like this for days, months, or mayb

Tonight it was a cell. He lowered onto a rolling stool and watched the others secure the hostages. They'd done a lot of shit in their time working for the boss. Normally smaller stuff. Guys like Hani and his friends hadn't proven themselves to be trusted with the important jobs. They were going to prove themselves now. Not only were they going to follow through for the suits and hand-deliver the Americans to them, but they were going to manage to get paid, too. Someone would pay for the first hostage, the one the suits didn't care about. All Hani had to do was prove that they were nothing like Farez. Hani was serious about his money, and he was willing to shed blood for it.

“They started asking questions, small at first, then more direct, and I didn’t answer, I swear I didn’t, I just—” “You just what.” “I told them she wasn’t just a hostage.” There it is. The mistake. The one that can’t be undone. The one that shifts everything from controlled to exposed. My stare fixes on him completely now, no distraction, no divided attention, no space left for anything else but this moment and what it means. “And what is she.” He swallows. Hard. His voice drops when he answers. Like saying it quieter will somehow lessen what it is. “Leverage.” The word lands heavier than anything else he’s said.