"Okay," she whispers through clenched teeth. "Now what? We’re in."

I reach into my vest pocket and hand her a clip-on mike and a power pack. Without any hesitation she accepts it into slightly trembling hands. She fastens the mike to her lapel, tucking the power pack away at the small of her back under her jacket. "Hold tight for just a sec," I whisper, as I begin to stand up. I want to get a quick sweep of the room to find out what I can see.

I raise up to do a quick pan of the room. In the back, I get a glimpse of the gunman. Focusing quickly, I realize he is distracted by the sound of the police response. The dumb son of a bitch doesn’t even realize that two other people have managed to get in here with him. He’s too busy staring out the window. Yeah, go ahead stupid, stand there long enough to let the snipers get a bead on you. As if he can hear my thoughts, he backs away from the window as his hands tighten on his weapon. I duck back down behind the desk to begin calculating in my own mind what I’ve just filmed. And what has most likely been projected to viewers of KNBC and the police outside.

Kels throws me a questioning look.

"It’s a lone gunman." Even in a crisis, I keep my sense of humor. "He’s wearing body armor and a mask. And he has an Uzi," I whisper this directly into her ear. I try not to notice either the fragrance of her shampoo or her perfume.

She takes it in swallowing hard as she nods her understanding. She’s still pale, but the fear is keeping her alert.

I take a deep breath. It’s now or never. Shut up and jump. I set the Betacam down and remove my vest. Don’t want Psycho-with-a-gun thinking I’m concealing a weapon.

"What are you doing?" she whispers as she watches me adjust the micro-camera.

"I’m gonna go make nice." I watch as a slightly amused look crosses her face. I grin at her. "I’m capable of doing that. When I want." As I duck out from behind the desk, I whisper, "Stay here until I signal for you."

Staying low, I move toward the back of the room toward the gunman. Gary’s right: I’m stupid. But I have an exclusive so far. And if I can live to enjoy it, it’s gonna be a great day. I begin to slowly straighten to my full height as I move. I try to keep my eye on our host and still get a look around. I finally see what I am afraid of. In the corner, clustered into a small mass, two adults are huddled protectively around nine or so children. Dammit! One of the women sees me so I quickly place my finger to my lips. She nods.

The next step I take brings the gunman around to face me. I look down briefly to see the crinkled magazine under my foot. Oops. I return my gaze to the gunman as I slowly bring my hands up to my sides, palms up, so he can see I’m not armed. Then I turn around to show no hidden weapons. As I make the slow circle, praying I’m not gonna get shot in the back, I notice that somehow my Betacam has made it to the top of the desk. It is pointed right at us and the light is on. Apparently Kelsey wants videotape of my death to play at the office Christmas party and other festive occasions.

I turn back to the gunman who levels the barrel of the gun at my heart. "Who the fuck are you?" The question is muffled by the black mask he’s wearing. It reveals only dark brown eyes, but those eyes sing volumes to me.

{{Break here for the first week?}}

"I’m Harper Kingsley. I work for KNBC." The Micro-Uzi makes me really apprehensive. Those things are notorious for having hair triggers and our host is already nervous. "Would you like to talk to us?"

He nods. Good, this is good. "Okay, partner, here’s the deal. I have a friend with me. She’s a reporter…"

He tenses as he grips the gun tighter. "Where?"

"Right there." I hear her. Turning at the waist, I see Kels stand up from behind the desk. She mimics my hands-open position as she slowly steps forward.

"I’m right here," she says. "We’re not here to hurt you or trick you. You can talk to us. We’ll listen. Harper will film it for you too."

He nods again. "You got a camera?"

"Yeah, back there." I point back to the desk.

"Get it."

"Okay." I slowly begin to back up. Kels doesn’t move from her spot. I’m not sure if she is immobile from fear or guts. But I’m glad she’s not making him more nervous.

"Listen," she says as she glances over to the huddled formation in the corner. "Why don’t you let the children go? They’re terrified and don’t really serve a purpose in this whole thing, do they?" Her voice is steady and low and I find it very soothing. I hope Wonder Nut does too.

I grab my camera and return to a position behind Kels. It gives me an excellent shot of her and him. He looks to the children.

"Do they?" Kels asks again very softly. "Do they really have any reason to be here?"

"No. I didn’t know they’d be here. There are never children in this reading room."

"They were on a field trip." Kels offers as she slowly moves to them. She kneels down, doing a quick visual check. "You okay?"

One of the women nods, still too terrified to speak.

This is fucking wonderful! God, our ratings must be sky-high at the moment. This is better than a slow car chase down the Santa Monica freeway.

"Good. We’ll get you out of here in a moment." Kelsey’s soft voice is soothing the woman’s fears even as her fingers reach out and stroke as many of the children as she can reach: touching hands, arms, bowed heads. She seems to have given them courage while gaining more of her own and she stands, moving back to the gunman. "If you want us to help you, you have to let the children go."

"The police will come in…"

"No, they won’t." Kelsey reassures him, it’s obvious she has no desire to bargain this point. If the man wants our airtime, he’ll have to abide by this rule. "No one will come in if you let the children go. It’s the children they’re worried about. And it will look very good for you when you decide to leave too."

The gunman hesitates, then nods at Kels. She immediately motions for the women and the children to make a quick exit before Nutflake changes his mind.

The women scramble to their feet, grabbing as many children as they can and pulling the rest to their feet as they head for the door. Kelsey is also tugging children to standing positions and shoving them gently towards the opening and the women standing there. I pan around to capture the frantic race for freedom, very proud that we have managed to gain it for them.

"Stop!" he yells, just as they are at the door.

Damn! Double-crossing, Uzi-toting, child-abusing Nutflake. I’m gonna be happy to capture the LAPD’s use of excessive force on your ass. I manage to meet Kelsey’s eyes for a split second and I see in them the fear of a plan gone awry. She’s on her toes, ready to try a new tact.

"She stays!" He points the gun at one of the women. She’s apparently an employee here, as she is wearing a library nametag.

She stops and puts down the two children she was carrying. She pushes them out the door, then turns very slowly.

"Get over here! Now, bitch!"

I sigh. There’s no need for that. Especially not for a woman as attractive as she is. I stifle a chuckle. I always keep my priorities straight, even in hostage situations.

The woman comes over and slides up behind me, grabbing onto the back of my shirt. Oh this shirt is toast.

"Police are outside the doors," she whispers. "Lots of police."

I nod as I continue to film Kels and the gunman. Now, we just have to get our asses out of the line of fire and let the cops do their job.

"Thank you." Kelsey smiles as she takes a seat at a reading table. "Why don’t you sit down here and talk to me? Tell me what the problem is. Tell me why you would come here and do this."

I’m impressed. Kelsey is pulling herself together just fine. She’s smoothing her hair and her coat and she looks every bit the professional I’m learning she is.

He cocks his head as he points the barrel of the gun away from Kels. I’m glad he did that. Chambers wouldn’t like me losing her on the first outing.

"I like the library."

Ah, that explains everything. I watch warily as he takes a seat at the end of the table across from Kelsey.

"Generally the library is where you come to read, not target shoot," she says with a very charming little smile. It almost doesn’t sound like an insult. "Are you sure there’s not another reason you came here?"

"He died here," our host says quietly.

I see Kels reach for the mike pack to adjust the volume. Good girl; story first, compassion second. "Who died here?"

"My son. My son died here. In this room." He waves an irritated hand through the air.

"I’m sorry," Kels replies sincerely as she brushes a hand through her hair, tucking an errant strand behind her ear. "What happened?"

"He took an overdose in this room and died. Nobody noticed, nobody cared. They found him at closing. It’s their fault that my son is dead." His anger flares as he jumps from his seat and whips the gun around on me and the woman behind me. I wait for the inevitable and hope that the camera will keep working even if I can’t. I almost shout out a protest when I see Kelsey rising to her feet and approaching him slowly. Jesus Christ, we’re all dead!

"It’s okay," she says softly as she reaches out for him. "I understand your loss. I understand your pain, but there’s no reason for anyone else to die senselessly in this room, is there?"

The gunman whirls around, turning the barrel to the ceiling firing a burst of gunfire into it.

Kelsey avoids the bits of the ceiling raining down around her. She takes a few cautious steps back. She looks a little shocked but is hiding her fear well. Her hands aren’t even trembling as they cautiously brush pieces of the ceiling from her hair and arms.