***
Whistling a cheery tune, Asher almost missedthe unmistakable sound of a single gunshot echoing from the bank.Years of training and instincts flowed through him like a rapidrush of stimulants. The few pedestrians nearby looked around forthe backfire of an engine and otherwise went about their day.
Sprinting along the wall until he reached thebank door, Asher listened intently without getting close enough tothe window that he might be seen. A few whimpers and squeals, butotherwise the bank had gone silent.
Lacking a mirror, Asher turned on the cameraon his phone and angled it so he could see in the glass bank doorwithout giving away his position. One just inside the door, asecurity guard at his feet. In the distance, another one near thetellers, filling a bag with cash from their drawers. Where wasSophie?
Through the front door, open only a slightcrack, he heard a disdainful voice announce, “We’re thirty secondsbehind already. Let’s move it along. I won’t hesitate to shootanyone who slows us down.” Judging by the matching uniforms anddiscreet, but very effective, twenty-twos, one in the holster andone in hand, they weren’t amateurs.
If he were to try to make a move, someonewould get hurt, maybe killed. They likely didn’t want to add murderto their list of crimes. An organized unit, you’d think they’d hitbigger banks in bigger cities. Unless this was part of the gig; hitthe unsuspecting small-town banks where they’d meet lessresistance.
Sophie was in there somewhere. She was smart;she wouldn’t do anything to put herself in danger. Unless it was toprotect others. Anxiously, he scanned the room to find her.
“Asher, how the hell are you?” Jonah Larson,a few years ahead of him in school, stood at his side. Dressed in ablack police uniform, shiny badge and all.
Crisply, succinctly, Asher whispered, “Bankrobbery. I see two, but likely at least one or two more at thevault from what I can tell.”
Larson immediately backed against the wallnext to him. “It’s payday. Armored truck would have been by an hourago. I can get in the back door.”
“If we interrupt, someone’s much more likelyto get killed.”
“Fair point. I’m good with holding here.”
From inside, a scream echoed. Panning hiscamera, he saw a woman being dragged by her hair across the room.“Never mind. Guess we’re not that lucky. It’s getting ugly,hostage. Why don’t you head to the back? I’ll take these two infront.”
Larson didn’t hesitate. Despite this beinghis territory, he didn’t seem to question words of experience.Asher appreciated his lack of ego; ego usually ended up gettingeveryone else killed.
“Ninety fucking seconds. You’re all slow.”The asshole holding the woman by the hair shouted at the crowd.Trying to frighten? Play with them? Or would he kill her just forfun?
Asher didn’t have time to wait for Larson totake position. The gunmen aimed his weapon at the hostage he’dtaken.
As if a normal, happy customer, Asherstrolled right in through the front door. Surprised, the gunman atthe door spun to aim at him, but Asher closed the distance betweenthem in a blink.
Interrupting the momentum, moving swiftly andmethodically, Asher grabbed the gun with his far hand, pointing thebarrel at the floor as he took control, and with his oppositeelbow, he clocked the guy in the Adam’s apple.
Coughing, clutching his throat, the doorguard was temporarily out of commission. The asshole in the middleof the room turned and hesitated, assessing the sudden southwardturn in the situation.
Big mistake. Asher took advantage of thepause and fired a single shot with the borrowed gun and nailed theguy in the shoulder.
Risky move with a weapon he’d never firedhimself, but the shot was clear and no one behind in case hemissed. Not that he ever missed. If he’d waited another second, thehostage would have been between him and the robber.
With breathing now calming but not yetstable, the front door man struggled to stand and threw a desperatepunch at Asher’s jaw.
Ducking, Asher used the guy’s momentumagainst him and threw him onto the ground, his own feet rocksteady.
With a swift jab to the head, he clocked theguy’s skull against the tile floor and knocked him out.
Out of the corner of his eye, Asher could seemovement from the back.
“Status?” One of the robber’s demanded as shepeered into the main area.
A quick rapport of two shots could be heardfrom the back room. Front area secure, Asher sprinted across thefloor and leaped over the teller counter, sliding over the fauxgranite on his hip.
One of the robbers limped on a bleeding thightowards him. Way to go Larson. Still armed, however.
Aiming at Asher with a shaking hand, theasshole tried to steady himself, furious and barely walking. Not avery good plan, adding murder to one’s charge of armed robbery.
Easily containable, Asher ducked and rolled,swiping his leg and grabbing the gun from the flailing arm beforeit could fire.
