This is the penultimate part of a six part serial, you can read the previous part here.
The Man I Want To Be – Part 5
Suggested listening: Moby – Machete
Scrutts and Bakeman had been arguing about which hostage they would be best shooting to properly motivate the pathetic excuse of a manager into unlocking the vault door for them. It wasn’t one of those enormous, round vault doors like you saw in movies – just a normal sized door, steel-reinforced. The room on the other side probably wouldn’t be much bigger than a walk-in closet but it would still be more than enough money to get them out of the country and that was all that mattered. They weren’t here to become millionaires.
The blubbering bald man in the pinstripe suit dropped his bunch of keys for the third time and Bakeman was about to smack him with the butt of his shotgun when they heard a muffled shot from somewhere behind. Turning they saw Mikial just shrug from where he and Lester stood amongst the hostages. If hadn’t been one of them then it must have been Fitzpatrick in the loos, he must have found someone hiding in there. Bakeman motioned for Mikial to go investigate.
The lights in the toilets were off. Mikial lowered his shotgun for a moment to fumble for the light switch. Once the lights had flickered on he couldn’t believe his eyes. Young Fitzpatrick was slumped on the floor, his trousers and pants tugged down to expose the smoking pistol that had been rammed up his arse and then, presumably, fired.
“What the – ” cold hands on either side of his head and sharp twist denied him the rest of the sentence. Or anything else ever again.
The two bank robbers breathed in as the vault door swung up revealing the shelves stacked with towers of notes. Once they’d located the MILF the manager had a bit of a squishy bit for, he’d suddenly become a lot more helpful. For the first time in weeks Scrutts allowed himself to hope. With this money all their troubles would be over, he could take Marie and the kids and they could all just disappear and start their lives anew. And best of all – they’d managed it without anyone getting hurt.
“Oi no!” bellowed Bakeman looking back towards the hostages and Scrutts turned in time to see Mikial stride calmly back out of the toilets and raise his shotgun to Lester’s head, turning it into a cloud of splinters of skull and pinkish brain matter.
That felt amazing. I couldn’t believe how far the bits of his head had travelled, some had even hit the wall on the far side of the room and were now sliding down towards the faded carpet. Brilliant.
The other two were alert now so I aimed and fired at them but the distance was too much for the scattered pellets to do any damage. I clicked the trigger again and remembering both barrels were now empty, I began sprinting towards them. Oh the look on their faces. The look on their faces.
The fat one had the instinct to fire a round at me, the bullet sinking squarely into my left shoulder but I let Jamie take all the pain, my progress towards them unabated. Leaping over the counter and yanking off the fake beard so they could see my gorgeous face, I almost cackled with glee as the taller, scrawny one collapsed back onto his knees, a dark patch appearing around his groin. Fatty was braver and tried to put another bullet in me but with one hand I punched his pistol wide and with the other brought up the spent shotgun into his chin. He went down hard.
“Please stop” I heard him whimper as I lifted him up by the collar, tearing aside his comedy disguise. “Please we didn’t mean no harm, just let the police take us.”
Sick of his pathetic whimpering I pried open his fat gob with the barrel of the shotgun then pushed it down as far as I could get it, listening as things ripped and broke inside. Satisfied I let his shaking cadaver collapse and considered what I would do the last one. Forget “have-a-go heroes”, it was “have-a-go terrorists” that were the real idiots. I pressed down on his chest, feeling the cardboard boxes made to look like explosives, crush under my heel. The cash drawer. Yes one of those heavy, metal cash drawers would make quite a nice impression on his head. I let out a little giggle of excitement but then paused.
In the corner of my eye I had noticed one of those black and white monitors showing CCTV footage of the room. There was my handsome figure in the foreground but it wasn’t that which had caught my eye. It was something behind me. A particularly white blotch. I spun about and saw her. Nestled amongst the other whimpering customers and bank staff, was a girl with bright, blonde hair, tartan waistcoat and gold name badge, flecked slightly with droplets of blood. Lizzie.
The 6th and final part will be available tomorrow (Saturday 23rd July)
Title image courtesy ace_0f_magic