Tuesday, May 12, 2015

A Day At The Bank Part 2

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My heart was beating fast and I went into a frenzied state of mental soliloquy. What should I do? Should I tell them its me? What if they’re assassins sent to kill me? What would happen to me if they should steal this huge amount from me? Everything was just zapping through my mind at the same instant. If not for the fact that the brain is a very powerful supercomputer, I could have gone into a 5-year coma, starting from that instant.
I was deep in thought when by instinct, I slightly raised my head and looked upstairs. There, I saw the bank manager whom the terrorists were unaware of. We made eye contact and he tried to communicate something to me. It was through sign language. At that moment, I became grateful to my HOD Linguistics for making me take those classes. I read the manager’s hand sign, which was short and acute. It read, “Behind you. Fire Exit. Me Distract. You Run”. I got the message, and relief swept over me, for the time being.

“One!”, the leader of the terrorists suddenly barked, “Two! Three! Four! Fi–!”..
“Please, don’t hurt anyone”, the manager spoke out, coming to the main lobby through the flight of stairs, hands raised above his heads. Even the assailants were surprised as they never knew someone was up there. The leader turned to him, gun pointed at his forehead, “Oh! By your name tag, I see you’re the manager. So I’m only going to ask you this once. Where is Mr. Christopher?”
The manager didn’t yield. Instead, he started pulling back towards the stairs and the assailants moved towards him the more, and farther from me. I took the cue, grabbed my suitcases, and made for the fire exit. Good thing I dressed lightly, I thought. Unfortunately, I wasn’t silent in my escape.
Immediately, gunshots rented the air, everyone in the bank hall started screaming and shouting, but I was determined to escape. I got to the door, unlatched it, not fearing the machine gun firing sporadically that might hit me with a stray bullet, and entered. I looked back just in time to see the manager dead, on the floor, shot in the chest.
Secretly, I blamed myself for his death, but the dead is gone, and the living must survive. I ran through a short tunnel from the fire exit to the outside. Once out, I was surprised that the criminals had no reinforcements outside. It baffled me a lot, but I didn’t care. I located the bank’s vehicle, and lucky for me, the driver was in there, scared. I screamed at him, “Go! Go!! Go!!!” and with the reflexes of an experienced driver, he swung the car into action and we exited the bank.
Relief came over me, I was happy that I was safe. I thanked my stars over and over again. Unknown to me, my woes were just about to begin.

I instructed the driver to take me to the construction site, where my boss would most likely be, so I would get rid of the money and save myself from danger. Just about a hundred metres from the site, a black van appeared and crashed into us. The driver lost control and I hit my head against the glass. Blood started to trickle. I was fast losing consciousness.
Three hefty men alighted from the van, shot my driver, masked me and threw me into their van. What happened to the money, where they were taking me, or whom they were, I did not know. I blacked out almost immediately I landed into their van.



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