“What the fuck, man?” Sean groused. “This was supposed to be simple. You said in and out. Fast money.”
AR-man pointed his rifle at the floor and moved to the side of the big front window to peer through the blinds. “Guess I was wrong.” His rough voice sounded calm, as if he didn’t have a room of scared people and an army of cops outside.
The phones rang again.
“Hit the speaker,” AR-man ordered.
Sean pulled his mask lower and swore but did as he was told. “Yeah?”
“This is Officer Beckridge again. We need to know if the hostages are okay.”
“They’re fine, motherfucker. You don’t pull back, someone’s getting a bullet.”
“What’s your n?—”
AR-man motioned for Sean to hang up.
Tweaker was getting more and more agitated. He made a high-pitched keening noise as his sweaty face turned a deep shade of red. His body shook so hard, Quillon thought he might pull the trigger by accident. “Omigod, omigod, omigod,” he repeated, his voice getting higher and higher.
Sean didn’t freak out to that extent, but he still sounded antsy. “How are we supposed to fucking get outta this shit, man? You aren’t really gonna shoot someone, right?”
AR-man grunted. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not you’re gonna shut the fuck up,” he snapped.
AR-man was getting pissed. Quillon bet the guy regretted his choice of partners for this operation.
He returned his gaze to Tracie. Her face showed absolute terror, but she was holding it together, breathing easier and regularly.
Perfect,Quillon thought. Both of them would get out of this shit, and when they did, she’dbe on the back of his bike forever.
“Sean, we need to go!” Tweaker whined. “We need to go now.”
AR-man wasn’t having it. “Did you not hear me say shut the fuck up?”
Tweaker ignored him. “Sean, please, man. Let’s just go.”
All three men starting talking, then shouting over one another.
“I told you not to say my name!”
“I don’t like this!”
“Stupid fuckers!”
“I wanna leave!”
Tweaker openly cried and swiped the snot dripping from his nose with the mask, making it a wet mess. He pulled the gun back from Tracie’s head and pushed her away so she fell to the ground, then clumsily staggered to the front doors with obvious intention.
That was a fatal mistake.
AR-man cursed and pointed the rifle at the sobbing man.
Quillon learned two important facts in the next three seconds. Number one, AR-man was not above killing someone. Number two, the rifle in his hands was not semiautomatic. He had modified it to be fully automatic. Their chances of survival were just cut in half.
Much like Tweaker.
