HOSTAGE NEGOTIATIONS

Prior to the formation of E.R.T. (The Emergency Response Team), the Michigan Department of Corrections trained non-custody staff in Hostage Negotiations. This was a voluntary position, a thankless duty guaranteed to make the negotiator despised by any potential hostages. I had learned early on to induce the Stockholm Syndrome—make the hostage-takers and hostages value each other, make them form a special bond, make them think that I was a complete asshole.

Luckily (can you detect an ounce of sarcasm?) the warden had hand-picked me. He said I possessed a certain “rapport” with the inmates.

“It’s a voluntary assignment,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I volunteered you.”

With an offer like that, how could I refuse? After one week of intense training at the Huron Valley Correctional Facility, I became a certified hostage negotiator. Eight months later, my skills were tested when a situation developed in the sally-port. The deputy warden in charge of security ordered me to a small office area, a place to negotiate from. He had another officer throw a special-designed phone over the fence in the sally-port for contact purposes.

The items the hostage-taker demanded started out large (they always do)—a getaway car, guns, money—but somehow during the negotiation process, I offered him a cup of coffee. Upon delivery, he complained that it was cold. I apologized, and promised to have it heated. Then I asked whether he wanted cream or sugar with it. Anything to keep him talking, to wear him down. I even convinced him to let me speak to the hostage between deliveries.

“Fuck the coffee!” the female officer said. “Give him what he wants. Your messing with my life.”

“This may take awhile,” I explained, “don’t do anything rash.”

Then it turned ugly. The demands intensified.

“Look,” he said, “if I don’t see a getaway car by 1300 hours, I’m going to start tossing fingers over the fence.”

I paused for a moment, tried to regain my composure, tried to think of what needed to be said. “Are you getting hungry?” I asked. “ I can get you something to eat. A hamburger. A steak. Anything.”

Then I heard the background screams. “You still there?” I asked. “Hello. Hello. Hello.” Then I heard the laughter. I can joke about it, say things like “I had my work cut out for me.” Scenarios make for good practice. I'm just glad we have E.R.T. I'm willing to bet they do a much better job.