The PGIA Hostage Situation (TWI ONLY | CLOSED)
Posted: Thu Sep 01, 2016 2:31 am
August 31 2016
04:30
Port Gray International Airport Terminal C
"Do they have a Cinnabon at this terminal?"
Gozzer looked up from what he was doing. "What?"
"Do they have a Cinnabon at this terminal?" Baby Face repeated. "There's one over at Terminal A, but I can't remember if there is one here."
Gozzer blinked at the man. "Seriously?"
"I mean, I figure we'll get hungry, right?" Baby Face said. "So if there's a Cinnabon, we could get one of them to make us stuff..."
"You're a goddamn piece of work, man," said Oni from the other side of the supply cupboard. He was tugging a duffel bag out from behind a pile of paint cans and unzipping it. He tossed Gozzer a WWII-style gas mask painted with yellow stripes. "There's no Cinnabon, but there's a Starbucks."
Baby Face frowned. "Don't like it. Nasty coffee anyways."
"Be quiet," Gozzer said. He slipped his mask on over his scarred face and threw on his yellow rainslicker. "Effectively immediately, we're working. We'll cross the food bridge when we get to it."
Baby Face sighed. "It's just called foresight, Goz."
"It's called annoying," Oni said. He pulled on his samurai-style half-mask. He loaded his AK with a click.
Gozzer slipped a Bluetooth headset over his ear and clicked it on, then dialed out from his phone.
"Hello?" came the reply.
"You lot ready over there?"
"Clear," came the reply. "So are the other teams."
"Good," Gozzer said. He glanced at Baby Face and Oni. "We're clear. Let's go. And remember, no English."
The others nodded. They turned, flicked the safeties off on their weapons. Gozzer gripped the handle of the door, counted to three, and burst out.
"Get the hell down!" he yelled, spraying fire upwards. People nearby started screaming. Oni and Baby Face popped out, targeted security, and fired.
At several other points around the terminal, other groups of masked men were bursting out of doors and screaming in Atish, directing people back towards the center of the terminal. There weren't many this early in the morning: a few early morning arrivals, a few waiting for flights, groggy morning workers and caffeine powered security guards. An alarm started blaring, but the masked men were already firing at security.
Hostages were hustled backwards as alarm claxons blared. This had all been planned, and the masked men were already covering every entrance. As more unprepared security swarmed in, they were either shot down or disarmed and added to the hostages who were still gripped in the sheep-like panic of the situation.
It took less than ten minutes of orchestrated terror for the SOAR hostage-takers to shepherd the some fifty or so hostages towards a clear area of the terminal, set aside for this purpose in their plans. Free of open sight lines and relatively contained, the area would act as their holding and staging area.
Gozzer climbed up on a counter as the people were forced down by the twenty or so terrorists. "Good morning, Port Gray. We are here as representatives of SOAR, and you will be our collateral for the moment. Do not do anything stupid or heroic. The large duffel bag being carried by my associates into your midst contains an explosive device. Do anything stupid as a group, and we detonate it. Do anything stupid individually and we shoot you. If you would all please hold out your hands with any communications devices, a few of my friends will be coming around to collect them and ensure that you are all comfortably but securely contained. If you are all smart, this will be over soon and only a few of you will be dead. If you are stupid, you will all be dead. I recommend using some game theory in your decision making. Thank you."
There was a moment of hush, with only the alarm claxons sounding. A few of Gozzer's men were clsoing doors and barricading them, while a few others were going around with ziploc bags collecting cellphones and tablets and ripping away laptop bags, while another was taking plastic zipties and restraining the hands of the hostages.
Gozzer hopped down from his perch. Suddenly, a hostage in a business suit darted forward, making a dash for an emergency exit door. Gozzer sighed, drew his sidearm and fired. The bullet slammed through the back of the man's thigh and the bussinessman fell forward and slid several feet across the textureless airport carpetting. Gozzer walked forward, put his foot up on the man's back and glanced down.
"What did I just finish saying?" he said, and pulled his trigger again. The man's body was added to the count.
By the time police and security could organize, the SOAR terrorists had already secured the area and set up a perimeter. Most were ex-military, and had a knack for this sort of thing, and the police knew that storming the place would go bad. And so a hostage situation began...