Page 12 of Mission: Possible

"Shut up," hissed a woman at my right. "Do youwantthem to shoot us?"

"Quiet!" yelled a bank robber.

The fierce whispering stopped abruptly and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had to agree with the security guard's assessment. Two against six were not good odds and considering the twenty-or-so people lying together on the floor, the chance of someone getting caught in the crossfire the moment the shooting started was too high to risk. I thought about what my brothers and Solomon, and all of my colleagues, would say. I was pretty sure they would advise me to stay quiet, avoid drawing attention to myself, and let the bank robbery play out.

I glanced around again.Why wasn't anything happening?My bag full of cash remained on the teller’s station. None of the bank robbers demanded any money and instead, the bank remained quiet, and the atmosphere tense.

Then I heard the rustle of someone jumping to his feet and yelling "Police! Don't move!"

Bullets cracked and rapid fire followed. I threw one hand over my head and shuffled closer to the kid, using my hips to create enough momentum to close the gap as his mom and I sandwiched him between us and kept him safely covered.

Then with a grunt, someone dropped across my legs.

"Anyone else want to play the hero today?" asked the bank robber, the one who first spoke. He had to be the leader. I tucked my chin into my shoulder and gazed down my body, concern rising for the off-duty cop whose misguided act of derring-do lasted merely seconds. Was he dead? Jeaned legs stretched across mine, unmoving. I turned my head, gazing down the other side of my body and got a glimpse of the rest of him. His chest rose and fell heavily, his eyes appeared stunned, but he was still alive. Then I saw the blood seeping under his shoulder, pooling towards my legs. I wanted to wriggle out from where he partially lay over me but I didn't dare budge.

The bank robber stepped past me, grabbing the gun out of the cop's hand and reaching for his collar, yanking him upright. The cop screamed in pain as the robber wrestled his jacket from him. "It's a shoulder wound not a fatal shot, but the next one will be lethal," hissed the bank robber. He wedged the jacket into a ball and stuffed it against the cop's shoulder, planting the cop's hand over it to keep it in place. Running his hands over the cop's legs, he patted the cop’s waist and sides, then stepped back, apparently satisfied the cop didn't have any other concealed weapons. "Stay down," he said, shoving the cop to the ground, who slumped over my legs again before I had a chance to shuffle away.

"You," he said.

I waited breathlessly, wondering whom he meant.

"Are you armed?" he asked.

"Yes. sir," said a voice, the same one who spoke to the cop. "It's on my ankle."

"Take it out slowly and put it on the floor." Something clattered on the floor and a moment later, the bank robber's feet moved past my view. "I told you to check everyone," he said to the other nearest bank robber, his voice barely audible.

"Yes, boss," said the second bank robber. "I took the gun from his waist holster!"

"But not from his ankle, idiot," hissed the first. "Which one of you is the manager?" he then called out. The footsteps stopped a few feet to my left. "Stand up, if you are. You have until I count to five or I'll shoot one of these innocent folks and that will be solely on your conscience. Five... four... three... good man."

"Please don't shoot anyone," said a quavering voice. "I'll do whatever you ask."

"Come with me."

The bank robbers returned to my line of sight, along with a man dressed in a navy suit and exceptionally nice, brown leather shoes. A third bank robber joined them before they moved off to the far corner of the room. I watched one of them holding a gun to the poor man's head. He swiped his keycard and punched in a number. The door swung open and the group disappeared from view. With three bank robbers gone, the other three remained in the room. I could hear footsteps circling the group and if I shifted my head to the other side again, I could see the other two robbers by the door. Not that it mattered. Armed with the weapons they held, there was no way to overcome them even at this reduced number. Plus, the element of surprise was long gone.

I realized my feet were getting numb under the shot officer's weight, so I shuffled slightly and he cried out in pain.

"Shut up!" grunted the bank robber, circling us.

"I'm a nurse," I blurted out. "I can stop the bleeding."

"You're a nurse?" Black, booted feet stopped in front of me. "You don’t look like a nurse."

"Yeah. Montgomery General. I just finished my shift on the ICU," I lied. "I can slow down the bleeding. With so much blood loss, he can't hold the wound closed."

The pause was so long, I thought I said something stupid until the voice replied, "Do it. But move slowly."

I wriggled my feet from under the cop and shuffled into a seated position. "Stay down," commanded the man. "Do not get on your feet." Butt-sliding over to the cop, I turned him from where he slumped but struggled with his bulk. His face was pale and his teeth were chattering. His hand, clutching his jacket over the fresh wound, was white at the knuckles.

I peeled back the jacket and inspected the damage. The bank robber was right. It was a shoulder wound that looked like the bullet went straight through and exited the other side. The bleeding wasn't exorbitant so no major arteries could have been damaged. A wallet fell onto the ground at the cop's feet so I grabbed it.

"Stop!"

I froze. "I need to stop the bleeding. A credit card is good for that since it's small, hard, and if pressed against the wound, it can seal it. You don't want this man to bleed out. That's the same as murder."

"I didn't shoot him," grunted the bank robber.