Rantings of an Arranged Mind

I was scratching my head, trying to figure out what this group of bank robbers was doing. Coordinated teams that robbed banks were a thing of the past. That was more Great Depression era stuff, John Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde stuff. These guys were taking too long. What was going on?

For one thing the police should have arrived by now. Banks had silent alarms, surely someone had set one off. Unless something was up with that, as well as the phones. I wondered how these guys had managed to disrupt the phone lines. How were they this capable? It wasn’t your typical bank robbery. And to what end? They still weren’t likely to be able to enter the vault.

It seemed like an awful waste of time. To train these pros and then put them into a high-risk caper didn’t seem very smart. Organized crime tended to base itself around gambling and drugs, things that were easier to control and paid off higher. Bank robbers attracted a lot of attention.

I peeked my head around the corner of the wall to see what I could see. The main floor of the bank was a wide space, kind of like a rotunda, with a balcony around the top. From my quick glance, I guessed that the balcony had offices, like for the manager. The tellers were off on my right with old-fashioned counters.

I caught a glimpse of one of the gunmen, who had a group of people on the floor out in the middle. I knew one of the others was getting cash from the tellers. Where was the third robber? He was wearing one of those masks that were like stockings, they distorted the face while still letting you breathe and see.

I ducked back behind the wall and thought fast. The only cover out there would be the narrow pillars holding up the balcony above me. I could guess that based on the balcony across from me on the other wall. Calla was likely in the huddle of people in the centre of the floor.

How was I going to get to her without getting shot? I knew I wasn’t going to get killed, but that didn’t mean taking stupid risks. Well, stupider than ones I’d already taken.

“Line them up!” A voice ordered. I peeked around the corner, and saw the second and third gunmen join the one standing over the hostages.

One of them had lined up the tellers and had them march over to join the main group. The last robber was pushing a lady in a suit jacket and a skirt, and they came from the opposite direction. I guessed maybe she was the manager, and he’d grabbed her from the offices upstairs.

I watched them start to break up the huddle and line the customers and staff up in a line across the wide floor. I would duck back behind the wall and then peek back out as they moved around, trying to make sure they never had an angle to see me but also trying to make sure I could still see what was going on. I finally spotted Calla, near the middle of the line. She had her hands on her head, like everyone else. Unlike everyone else, her face was as still as a stone. She didn’t grimace or look scared. Just kind of blank.

I wondered if she had retreated into herself. When I’d first met Calla, she’d had a very removed aura. It had been hard to read her emotions. I’d later learned that she’d walled them off after the death of her adoptive parents. She’d opened up a lot with me since then, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she used that as her default setting under stress.

I clenched my fists. I wanted to hurt these guys for making her feel like this. That hadn’t been my goal when I came in here, I just wanted Calla to know I hadn’t abandoned her. But now, that was changing. I wanted them to bleed.

“All right, open the vault. Or I start shooting people,” the gunman with the manager said. He was holding her arm and dragged her over behind the first customer as his men put them on their knees.

“I can’t!” The manager said, her voice anxious.

He put the gun to the back of the customer’s head. The customer was a portly man with a moustache, and he closed his eyes tight, gritting his teeth. The manager shrieked.

“Don’t! I mean literally, I can’t! The vault is on a time-lock, I won’t be able to open it for another three hours!”

Oh man. I hoped that didn’t piss these guys off. There was no way they could hold the bank for three hours. People outside were bound to notice there was a problem by then, and it wouldn’t be long before the building was surrounded by the police. I didn’t know how they had taken down the phone lines, but somebody would be investigating that pretty soon too.

“Fuck!” The gunman said, and he pushed the manager down on the floor roughly. She cowered at his feet.

“Now what?” One of his men asked.

I had assumed that the one robber was the leader. He was giving orders and directing the bank manager. It made sense that the others were following him. He turned to the one asking the question.

“How much did you take from the tellers?”

“It’s only like ten grand or so.”

“You have to do better than that,” the leader said, crouching beside the manager.