Rantings of an Arranged Mind

I watched as the leader of the robbery crew grabbed the manager by the hair and tilted her head back, pressing the tip of his gun against her cheek. I could hear her whimpering as she held her hands up.

“Please, please, don’t…”

“Listen and listen well. I want inside the vault. I want the money. You’d better think of something, or there’s going to be a lot of bodies.”

One of his men went to stand behind the first customer again, putting a gun to his head. The leader forced her to look.

“I don’t have access! I don’t have access! The only vault we can open is the first set of doors, to the safety deposit boxes. Please don’t shoot, please…”

The leader took a long hard look at the manager. Then he turned to his team.

“Stand them up, and march them back there. We’re going into the first vault. I want everyone where we can watch them, and away from the windows.”

The two gunmen started getting everyone back on their feet. The manager looked at the leader.

“You want inside the safety deposit boxes?” She asked, incredulous.

“Do you have a better idea?” He snarled at her.

“If it gets you out of here, and no one gets hurt, that would be fine by me. But all we have is the guard key, and it’s upstairs in my office. You need the customer key to open a box, or a good drill. That could take hours. Even then, you don’t know what boxes you’ll want to open.”

“We’ll just have to keep thinking, then, won’t we?” he grinned. “And you better hope I don’t get frustrated.”

He gestured with the gun and they started walking towards the stairs, while the other two marched the hostages. I realized I would have a chance to get involved: the gunmen were marching the line of hostages towards this side of the bank, presumably to walk along the wall towards the vaults. I could conceivably duck into the line if I timed it right.

I didn’t know what purpose that would serve, other than getting closer to Calla. But it wasn’t like I had a better plan except “stay put.” I also didn’t know what the robbers were going to do, now that they couldn’t get into the main vault and they didn’t have keys to the safety deposit boxes.

However, I did. I could get them into my box. I wondered if maybe I could end this whole showdown with the money my father had squirreled away? It was worth considering. I didn’t have a whole lot of other options.

So, I could join the line and become a hostage myself, and offer them the money in my father’s safety deposit box. Or, I could remain hidden and try to pull a Die Hard. I didn’t think that was very realistic, even if I was unkillable. It would put the other hostages at risk, and I didn’t think I wanted that on my conscience.

I was trying to be rational here, after having made the irrational choice to enter the bank. Sensible. The only problem was, as smart as it would be to just let them take me prisoner and hand over the money, I wanted to hurt these bastards. Even though I had spent my entire adult life studying the law, suddenly I wanted to take it into my own hands.

Perhaps it was because laws on paper were theoretical. Theoretically, it was great that rules on paper could set out a code of conduct for people to follow, and protect rich and poor alike. In theory, it was good that taxes were raised so a small group of individuals could be trained and armed to protect the population at large, as the army and police. But that meant you depended on other people, and what if they weren’t around?

Then, you had only yourself. At the end of the day, that’s all you always had. So was I going to wait around to see how long it took for the law to get involved? Or was I free? Was I a man? Here and now my beloved was in danger. No one else was going to do anything about it.

I shook my head.

I was thinking crazy. I believed in civilized behaviour. That had been the source of my fascination with history and law: humanity constantly improved upon itself. Violence wasn’t the answer. Rational discourse was the key. Animals might prey upon each other, but humanity was capable of philosophy, negotiation, and peace. We were better than just our instincts.

I would try negotiating first. They were here to rob the bank. I had money. They could take it and leave, and everyone would be safe. There was no need for melodramatic heroism. That was stuff from Westerns and action movies. That wasn’t real life.

I crept forward as the line reached the wall. I figured I could duck into it and just go into the vault with them, and then deal with the robbers there.