It's a scene that crops up in a thousand trashy television cop shows.
Crouching behind a tight cordon of panda cars, the weather-beaten SWAT team leader, complete with cap, bulletproof vest and loud-hailer, looks up to the third-floor window, clears his throat, and announces: 'You might as well give yourself up, Kowalski, we've got the place surrounded.' His craggy face is bathed in the soft amber glow of the street light and a small bead of sweat moves slowly down his temple. Kowalski, a wily old stager with deep pockmarks and a broken nose, is having none of it. After all, he has the (rather attractive blonde) hostage securely tied up and there happens to be a fridge full of beer in the office he's holed up in. So it's a complete stalema
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