forward.
He was dressed in a black suit and white shirt, similar to the clothing
the bank president wore. Had he not been wearing a mask and holding a
gun, he would have looked like any other businessman.
He was terribly polite and soft-spoken.
"Gentlemen, there isn't any need to be frightened, " he began in a
voice that reeked with southern hospitality. "As long as you do as I
say, no one will get hurt. We happened to hear from a friend of ours
about a large government deposit for the army boys, and we thought we
might like to help ourselves to their pay. I'll grant you we aren't
being very gentlemanly, and I'm sure you're feeling mighty
inconvenienced. I'm real sorry about that. Mr. Bell, please put the
Closed sign in the window behind the shades." The leader gave the
order to the man on his right, who quickly did as he was told.
"That's fine, just fine, " the leader said. "Now, gentlemen, I would
like all of you to stack your hands on top of your heads and come on
out here into the lobby so I wonXt have to worry that one of you is
going to do anything foolish. Don't be shy, Mr. President. Come on
out of your office and join your friends and neighbors." She heard the
shuffle of feet as the men moved forward. The gate squeaked as it
opened.
"That was nice and orderly." The leader oozed the praise when his
command was promptly followed. "You did just fine, but I have one more
request to make. Will all of you please kneel down? Now, now, keep
your hands on your heads. You don't want me to worry, do you? Mr.
Bell would like to lay you out on the floor and tie you up, but I don't
think that will be necessary. No need to get your nice clothes
dirty.
Just squeeze yourselves together in a tight little circle. That's
fine, just fine, " he praised once again.
"The safe's open, sir, " one of the others called out.
"Go to it, son, " he called back.
The man in charge turned to the desk, and she saw his eyes clearly.
They were brown with golden streaks through them, like marbles, cold,
unfeeling. The man named Bell was coughing, and the leader turned away
from her to look at his accomplice.
"Why don't you lean against the railing and let the others take care of
filling up the bags. My friend's feeling poorly today, " he told the
captives.
"Maybe he's got the influenza, " Malcolm suggested in an
eager-to-please voice.
"I'm afraid you might be right, " the leader agreed. "It's a pity
because he so enjoys his work, but today he isn't up to entertaining
himself. Isn't that right, Mr. Bell? " "Yes, sir, " his cohort
said.
"Are you about finished, Mr. Robertson? " "We got it all, sir. "
"Don't forget the cash in the drawers, " he reminded him.
"We've got that too, sir.
"Looks like our business is almost finished here. Mr. Johnson, will