tension

"I told you to keep your face looking down at the floor sister, so <i>do</i> it before I really lose my temper!"  The bank clerk whimpered as she lowered her head.

He stood over them, wild eyed and manic.  His name was Callum Hobbs and he and his three hood friends had been planning this raid for days, weeks, hell nearly two months.  The plan had been, as he had seen it, damned near fool proof.  However there had been a fool that thought otherwise.

A guard had decided to play hero and brandishing his gun, had challenged them.  The fool!  he didn't want to hurt anybody, that was the last thing he wanted, but Sly had panicked and oh sweet Jesus, the guard had been killed after Sly had shot him with his twelve gauge.

At least he might be dead.  Callum was no expert in medical matters, but the guys breathing had been shallow and his face an awful shade of milky white.  He had moaned and groaned for ages, but in the last half hour or so had fallen silent.  Callum hoped that he had just passed out.  After the shooting they had sealed the damned place and now what should have been a freaking simple heist, had become a hostage situation.

And Sly, well he was enjoying this.  Callum hadn't wanted the madman to come, but no, Howard his damned cousin, refused to do the job unless Sly was brought in.  Howard had insisted they needed him, after all he was a great wheel man.  What a shame though that he was a borderline psycho.

So the three of them had the bank staff and half a dozen customers hostage, and it was going too hell in a hand basket.

Surely things couldn't get any worse could it?  They had no idea about the Dark Night, who even now, was gaining entrance too the building via the skylight......

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