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The Hostage Situation
It started, as these things always did, with a late lunch and a bad idea.
Matt and Ben were off duty. Civvies, no radios, no responsibilities. Ben had talked him into a bucket of bolts from a surplus store “for future projects.” Matt answered by dragging him into a zoning lecture at City Hall.
They didn’t last the full twenty minutes. Security walked them out after Ben began “clarifying” building code.
After that, they ducked into a café, ordered coffee, tried to reset.
Two-thirds in, it all went sideways.
Ben was still arguing with Matt about fire lanes and exit clearances when a guy burst through the entrance: disheveled, wired on adrenaline, and a knife he clearly wasn’t comfortable with.
The place froze. One barista screamed. Someone dropped a tray. The guy shouted something about an ex-boss and waved the knife in the direction of a man near the counter, who immediately raised his hands.
Matt’s first instinct was to assess.
Ben’s first instinct was to stand up.
“Sit down,” Matt said under his breath.
“He’s holding a plastic knife,” Ben mumbled, sitting back fast.
“That’s a paring knife.”
“Huh. That explains the serrated edge.”
Then, to Ben’s amusement, the guy detoured into a full meltdown about someone stealing his lunch, yelling MY SANDWICH.
“Is he… really losing it over turkey?”
Matt sighed as if he already regretted what he was about to do. He crouched, popped open Ben’s duffle bag, and pulled out a bright yellow hard hat. Because of course Ben had one. And worse, he knew exactly where it was.
“Oh, now it’s a great idea. Weren’t you the one who called it ‘a walking safety violation’?”
“I’m repurposing the violation.”
He picked up his coffee in one hand, settled the hard hat on his head with the other, and stood up like a man with a plan. Ben grinned and followed like a man who didn’t need a plan.
“Sir,” Matt said, calm and clear, “I’m going to need you to step away from the patron and explain your complaint. This building is under active inspection, and your interference violates municipal code.”
The guy blinked. “What?”
“You’ve compromised the evacuation path and are actively obstructing the inspector’s report.”
Ben slid in beside him, somehow equipped with a clipboard.
“Sir, I’ll need to document your name for the violation summary.”
He looked back and forth, no idea who to deal with first.
“Last warning,” Matt said.
His grip twitched.
“Look out,” Ben muttered.
A nervous jerk sent the knife upward.
Matt stepped in and knocked it loose with a quick hit from the mug.
The blade skittered across the floor.
Ben kicked it away.
The would-be attacker went down to his knees, rambling about negligence and workplace injustice.
“Tell me that wasn’t the coolest thing we’ve ever done.”
“No one got hurt. That’s what matters.”
Four minutes later, the actual cops arrived.
The real aftermath came the next day.
Anderson stood behind his desk, arms crossed, staring at them like he’d uncovered a new subsection of hell.
“So,” he said slowly, “you impersonated municipal inspectors.”
“We de-escalated a volatile situation without injury,” Matt said.
“You wore a hard hat. In a café.”
“It gave the man a reason to hesitate. That bought us time.”
“And you,” he turned to Ben. “Duct-taped a man to a chair.”
“Improvised containment strategy, sir.”
“You’re not on call. You’re not authorized. And you sure as hell aren’t trained in negotiation.”
“We were the only ones there,” Matt said. “We worked with what the scene gave us.”
“You mean what I brought, but sure.”
“The guy tried to press charges. Then dropped them. Then, and this is the part I’m still processing, asked if either of you were taking on trainees.”
Matt didn’t respond.
Ben looked pleased.
“I had to assure the mayor’s office we are not sending firefighters into cafés to perform surprise compliance checks.”
“We weren’t acting as firefighters. Just as citizens. With experience.”
“Do you have any idea how much paperwork I’ve had to file because of you two?”
“For the record, Matt filled out most of it.”
“That’s because you can’t fill out a form to save your life.”
“Enough. One more call about ‘rogue code enforcement,’ and I’m asking your deputy chief to volunteer you for community smoke-detector duty. Door to door. For a month.”
“Come on, that’s just cruel.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Great. Wonderful. Anything else I should know?”
Ben thought briefly of City Hall, then let it go. “We returned the clipboard.”
“And paid for our coffee,” Matt added.
“Get out. Both of you.”
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