“Nobody here has the combination to the safe,” the manager said. “Only the branch manager can access it.”
“You said you were the manager,” Black Hair snapped, sounding irritated.
“I’m the assistant manager,” came the meek reply.
Silence.
“Uh-oh,” Matt’s new favorite person muttered. “This sure is a conundrum.”
“How will they ever open the big safe now?” he whispered back.
“Shut up!”
The sharp yell came from Red Shoes, whose pacing had brought him to their vicinity. Matt didn’t even flinch as the gun barrel jammed into the nape of his neck. Right, because this idiot was really going to shoot him. These guys couldn’t be older than twenty, twenty-one tops, and they obviously had no clue what they were doing. Matt’s shoulders tensed as he debated whether to wrench the gun from this imbecile’s hands. His muscles relaxed. Naah, no point causing trouble. His interference might make these guys trigger-happy and Matt had no desire to see anyone get hurt. This heist couldn’t last much longer, and no doubt these losers would be arrested the second they exited the bank.
And anyway, this was just starting to get fun.
As Matt and the blonde fell silent, Red Shoes clucked his tongue in approval, lifted his gun, and paced off. At the counter, Black Hair was forcing the manager to dial the branch manager’s home phone number.
“Speakerphone!” he barked.
Matt really wished he could see what was going on above him, but he had to settle for just hearing it. The assistant manager’s cell phone resonated a loud busy tone.
“I guess the branch manager is too cheap to invest in call waiting,” Blondie murmured.
“Maybe he can’t multi-task when it comes to communication,” Matt pointed out, fighting a grin.
“Quiet!” Red Shoes barked at them.
“Call his cell phone,” Black Hair ordered.
This time they got a dial tone, only to be replaced with a booming male voice that announced, “Lewis Templeton, San Diego Savings and Loans. Leave a message.”
More silence.
Obviously Black Hair and his crew of misfits had no idea what to do now that they’d been barred access to the big safe. Across the room, a woman whimpered.
“You’re lying,” Black Hair finally said, anger in his voice. “You do know the combination to the vault, don’t you?”
“I really don’t,” the manager protested.
“Liar!”
“I changed my mind,” Blondie whispered. “I thought they had the IQ of first-graders, but I’ve demoted that down to kindergarten.”
Matt laughed, only to receive another harsh reprimand from Red Shoes, who was beginning to look frazzled by this entire mess. He kept glancing at the enormous window, then at the confused people standing outside the bank door wondering why they couldn’t get in.
“Someone’s using their cell phone out there!” Red Shoes said, sounding frantic. “I think they’re calling the cops, Billy! We should split!”
Billy, the robber formerly known as Black Hair, spun around in fury. “What did I tell you about using our real names, you fucking idiot? Stick to the codes.”
“I bet one of them is eagle,” Matt murmured.
“Sorry, Eagle.” Red Shoes sounded humbled. “But we need to split, like, now!”
From the corner of his eye, Matt saw the red sneakers making their way to the wicket. The two robbers huddled together, mumbling to each other about their next move.
A streak of impatience shot through Matt, and a little alarm went off in his head. All right. This had gone too far. The guys were panicking now, and idiots plus panic plus guns could only equal trouble. Someone could actually get hurt here.
He glanced at Blondie. “Stay down,” he said in a low voice.
Her gray eyes widened, her mouth parting to protest, but he was already on his feet and springing to action. It took two seconds to disarm Billy and Red Shoes, and two more to land an uppercut on Billy’s jaw that had the guy slumping unconscious onto the floor. Without even breaking a sweat, Matt wrenched Red Shoes’s arms behind his skinny back, getting him in an iron hold that had the guy gasping in pain. Then he raised one of the guns he’d confiscated from the robbers and pointed it at Hook Nose, who looked like a deer caught in headlights over by the door.
“Drop your weapon, or this idiot dies,” Matt called cheerfully.
Hook Nose hesitated for all of a second, and then his handgun clattered to the floor and landed next to the foot of the security guard. “Now get on the ground, hands on your head,” Matt ordered, and the guy dropped down like a bowling pin, just as the wail of sirens filled the air.
Matt glanced over at the security guard, who was staring at him with shocked and grateful eyes, and said, “You’re welcome.”