“Have the schools been locked down?” Noones asked Longo.
“Yes, first thing.”
“Good. My kid’s at Kennedy,” Noones said.
“Mine too,” Longo responded.
“Mine are at Resurrection and Lord of the Cross, thank God,” Louie said.
Jake caught movement at the door to the bank. “Here we go.”
Noones lifted his bullhorn and waited.
The man used the bank manager as a shield as he brandished a gun and shouted. “Send over one unarmed officer. One. I’ll give him a letter I’ve written with what we want. We don’t need any heroes today. If our demands are met, everyone will go home healthy, understood?”
The suspect appeared to stand about six feet tall. He wore his black hair spiked on top, a red streak running down the center. When he turned, Jake saw a long, braided tail touching his shoulder blades. So eighties. He was dressed in all black and his wallet, secured with a chain, stuck out from his back pocket. Despite the day being warm, he also wore black gloves. His gun hand quivered—not a comforting sign. The gunman looked to be in his thirties, a solid hundred-eighty. He wore mirrored sunglasses; his bicep had a tattoo of a cross and skull. Jake memorized every detail for his report.
“Noones, who do you want to send over there?” Lieutenant Longo asked.
“I’ll go,” Jake spoke up.
“Any objections, Nick?”
“None,” Lieutenant Longo said.
“No heroics,” Louie said, as he leaned in and whispered in Jake’s ear. “You got your ankle holster?” Most cops never used maximum force during their careers, though were trained to if a situation required it. Jake never needed to but Louie had.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be back before you know it.” Jake tossed a smirk over his shoulder.
“We’re sending over Detective Carrington. He’s unarmed. In good faith, you release one of the hostages,” Jim Noones said. By procedure Noones didn’t use Jake’s rank.
“Send the detective over,” the gunman said, not agreeing to anything.
“Is anyone hurt?” Noones asked.
“We’ll talk after you read the letter.” The gunman never let loose his grip on the manager.
“He’s coming over now,” Noones replied.
The Kevlar vest created a furnace and had sweat pouring down Jake’s back as he got closer to the gunman. The gunman’s own sweat poured under his sunglasses. Jake wondered how the guy could see. The bank manager looked petrified. Jake held his hands up and away from his body as he approached. If things went wrong, his ankle holster—if he could get to it—would provide necessary protection.
“Okay, that’s far enough. I’m going back into the bank with this woman here. When I reach the door, you can pick up the letter. But not before I reach the door. Understood?”
Jake looked into the frightened eyes of the manager. “Yes.”
“Good.” The suspect whispered something in the manager’s ear then started backing up with her.
When gunman and hostage reached the door, Jake dropped to one knee to retrieve the note while keeping the bank robber in his line of sight. As he wrapped his fingers around it the gunman stepped inside and pushed the bank manager out onto the sidewalk. She fell to the ground. Jake ran forward to lift her up. He half carried, half dragged her back to the command post and safety.
The woman burst into tears when they reached Longo. Jake hoped no one could hear how fast and hard his heart pounded.
“I’m Lieutenant Longo,” Nick said. “I have to ask you to pull yourself together right now. Anything you give us will help the others come out of this alive. What’s your name?”
“Adeline Smith,” she replied, swiping at her tears.
“Adeline, you need to be exact. How many people are in there? Is anyone hurt? How many gunmen are there? Where are they located?” Longo shot questions at her.
Jake’s opinion of her went up as she composed herself.
“There are two tellers behind the counter. The assistant manager’s at the counter with the second guy, at least he was when I came out. There are two gunmen, three customers…oh, and one was shot in the leg. He’s a regular customer. Officer Tommy Sullivan. It isn’t bad. We were able to stop the bleeding by applying some pressure to it.” Jake appreciated how she tried to control her shaking.
“Adeline, you did great. Go with these detectives. We’re going to keep you away from the press until this is over. Are you going be okay?” Nick asked.
“Yes, is everyone else going to be?”
“We hope so. These detectives will take your statement,” Longo said.
Louie started to escort her to the ambulance. Adeline leaned over and thanked Jake for helping her.
“No problem. You sure you’re good? The EMT is going to check you anyway, to be sure,” Louie said
“I’ll be fine. But I’m worried about the others. If I’d known they were going to let me go, I would’ve let someone else go out. He put a gun to my head… I thought I was a goner.” She finished her statement, then leaned over and threw up.
Jake motioned for the EMT. Louie took the rest of her statement before he handed her off to a patrolman and then headed back to the command post.
“How is she?” Nick asked.
“She’ll be fine. The gun to the head freaked her out,” Louie said.
“That’ll do it.”
“What do they want?” Jake asked.
Louie added a question of his own. “Did they call Noones yet?”
“Yes. They want the usual,” Nick Longo replied to both.
“It’s not like they’re going to get away with it,” Jake said. Everyone’s radios crackled to life.
It seemed the Channel Eight News chopper had picked up a hot pursuit on Route 8, heading from Wilkesbury to Bridgeport. The state police had tried to pull over a car on a routine check when it took off. They were now closing down entrance ramps, rerouting any cars not involved in the pursuit. There is never a dull moment in this job.
After seven long hours, the bank robbery suspects gave themselves up. Both gunmen incurred layoffs and had run out of money, with no job prospects in their futures. When questioned, they said they had run out of food to feed their families and after a night of drinking the idea came to them. It never shocked Jake how stupid most criminals were, but these two took the cake
The pursuit on Route 8 ended fast. It had nothing to do with the bank robbery as
