Third chapter of the book I've written
|After using Jane to show that they had hostages, the tall robber shoved her back towards the others, though he was careful not to push her into the children. The man in the suit looked at Jane, then down to the injured teller still on the floor. Shaking his head in frustration, he spoke up. “I’m Doctor Jim Reynolds. Please, let me treat the wounded. I can’t just stand here without doing something.”
The robbers looked at each other, then the tall one nodded. Dr. Reynolds quickly rushed to the injured teller and ripped his pant leg so that he could examine the wound. Looking up, he focused on the bank manager and said, “Sir, do you have any alcohol or hand sanitizer? Alcohol would be better but I understand that it isn’t exactly a standard office supply for a bank.”
The manager nodded and, after silently getting permission from the robbers, slowly walked over to the counter. He picked up a bottle of hand sanitizer and slowly walked back, avoiding the two robbers so they would not think he was trying to attack them. The doctor nodded his thanks and turned to the injured man. “This will sting but, hopefully, it will keep the wound from getting infected until we can get it taken care of better. Too bad my emergency kit is in my car. If I had it, I could care for this wound better.”
The injured teller nodded, biting his shirt sleeve to take his mind off the pain in his leg. The doctor bounded the wound with the torn parts of the pant leg. Standing afterwards, he walked over to Jane and had her show him the gash on her cheek. He applied some of the sanitizer to her wound, noting with surprise that she didn’t even wince. He frowned at her wound in concern, knowing that there was no way for him to bandage it. He spoke softly to her, “You may need stitches in that cheek. I can’t do much for it here.”
Jane nodded her understanding. Her cheek ached from the hand sanitizer, but she forced herself to hide her pain. A plan was forming in her mind and she couldn’t afford to seem weak. Years of dealing with minor injuries from riding and caring for horses had taught her how to hide pain well. The doctor dabbed her cheek with the sanitizer one more time, then walked back to his more seriously injured patient.
Outside, Lucas climbed out of his car as several squad cars and the FBI Mobile Unit pulled up. Knowing that the officers didn’t need to be told what to do, he walked directly towards the FBI vehicle. As he approached, the door opened and out stepped a brown-haired man. The two men put their hands out to shake simultaneously as the FBI man said, “Agent Sam Fletcher. You must be Deputy Chief Lucas MacKade. Chief Hardy has told me quite a bit about you. What’s the situation inside?”
The sympathy and respect Lucas found in the other man’s dark brown eyes told him that the agent knew the story behind his move to this small town. Glad that their matching heights made it easy to maintain eye contact, Lucas nodded slowly and responded, “So far, all that I know for sure is that the robber I saw is male and he had a female hostage with him. Based on the fact that he came all the way out, I think I can add that there are at least two robbers. Otherwise, he would have stayed mostly inside to keep them from roaming. Either that or that the woman was the only person he found inside, unlikely based on the place and time of day.”
Agent Fletcher nodded, comparing the man standing in front of him to both Chief Hardy’s description of the new Deputy Chief’s abilities and what he had read from reports he had requested from the NYPD. Clear, concise and to the point, his old chief from New York had written about his reports. Both chiefs had reported that Lucas always had sound reasoning for any assumptions he made. With no further discussion, the agent turned and motioned for Lucas to follow him inside the mobile unit vehicle. Once inside, the ex-New Yorker requested that the FBI agent take the lead until they had a better grasp of the situation. Together, the two men decided to hide Lucas’s true rank at first, agreeing to only reveal it if a reason or opportunity came up that required it.
Inside the bank, the phone on the desk behind the hostages suddenly started ringing. The manager looked at the phone, then turned towards the taller robber, deciding that he must be the leader. He held his hands up in a surrender gesture and said, “Perhaps I should answer the phone. It might be the police calling. After all, they are going to want to negotiate and it’s easier to do that over the phone than a bullhorn.”
The tall robber thought about it, then nodded without consulting his partner. A glance at the phone told him that the device was a professional model designed for multiple lines and conference calls. Motioning towards it, he said, “Put it on speakerphone so we all can hear.”
The manager nodded back, then answered the phone. Without speaking, he pushed several buttons, activating a secret recording mode in addition to speaker mode. “Thank you for calling Serenity Falls Bank. How may I help you?”
A firm voice came over the speaker. “This is Agent Sam Fletcher of the FBI. I’m here with Officer Lucas MacKade of the Serenity Falls Police Department. We understand that you have hostages and we do not want you to harm them. Therefore, we are here to negotiate to determine a solution to this situation.”
The taller robber took off his mask and motioned for his partner to do the same as he replied, “You may call me Todd. I do indeed have hostages. The solution is quite simple, really. I will tell you what I want and will release the hostages when I get it.”