Kathleen Tailer - Undercover Jeopardy

“Trying to be a hero?” Jackson sneered when the guard and Terrell reached the group. The guard didn’t answer, and Bethany glanced at her watch. Things were going downhill, fast. They needed to get into the vault, get what they came for and get out of here. This whole robbery was taking way too long. A wave of anxiety washed over her as she watched Jackson motion to the guard with his gun. “Sit down with the others.” The guard complied, warily eyeing J.P., who was still laying on the floor, bleeding and moaning loudly and intermittently. He was right to be worried. If J.P. weren’t hurt so badly, he surely would have been so angry about being shot that he would have killed the guard outright just for revenge. J.P. had always been the one wild card in the whole operation. It was almost a blessing that he was out of the mix and wouldn’t be able to hurt anybody. Still, she didn’t want him to die.

As Jackson gave orders for Terrell to sweep the place and make sure no one else was hiding in the back, Bethany went over to J.P.’s side. She put her rifle down and pulled up J.P.’s shirt so she could examine his wound. The fabric was already soaked with blood. He grabbed her arm and squeezed her hard. “I can’t believe he shot me. Help me, Hailey. He wasn’t supposed to shoot me.”

Bethany nodded and met his eye, trying to reassure him. “Sure thing, J.P. Just let me take a look.” Hailey was her undercover name, yet it still sounded odd to her ears. She thought she’d eventually get used to it, especially since she’d been undercover for a year with this group.

She examined the wound carefully, then gingerly rolled him to his side so she could see if the bullet had gone out his back. Thankfully, she found an exit wound. Even though it was bleeding profusely, she thought it was merely a flesh wound. If she could just stop the blood flow, he should be back to his normal nasty self in only a few weeks. She carefully pulled off her hoodie, found some scissors in a drawer in a nearby worker’s desk and cut the sweatshirt into strips, thankful for the latex gloves that the robbers were all wearing that kept her hands free of the blood. She kept her mask in place and still had on the black T-shirt she had been wearing underneath the hoodie, but now it was clear to everyone that she was a woman. There was no way to hide her body shape or her dark blond hair that was pulled back in a slick ponytail. She made a bandage out of the fabric and applied pressure for a few minutes before wrapping the rest of the strips around him to securely hold the bandage in place. Once she finished dressing his wound, she tied a knot and leaned over him.

“Alright, J.P.,” she whispered for his ears only. “You lie still, okay?” She put his hands on top of the knot. “Hold that bandage right there as tightly as you can to stop the bleeding. Got it?” She squeezed his arm. God, please save his life and change his heart.

She grabbed her rifle again and stood. At least now J.P. had a fighting chance. She glanced nonchalantly in Daniel’s direction, but a sliver of fear slid down her spine when she saw the look on his face. His eyes were burning into her like hot coals. It was obvious that he had recognized her, and anger and frustration radiated from his head to his toes. Now that he knew who she was, would he blow her cover? She met his eyes, which were following her every movement. Maybe it wasn’t anger she saw there but confusion and hurt instead. She looked away, not ready to confront Daniel or the emotions that caused a tightening in her chest.

* * *

Bethany Walker, his ex-fiancée, stood not twenty feet from him. Daniel still couldn’t believe it. But what was she doing robbing banks? He sat up a little straighter and watched her carefully as she tended to the other robber. He wanted to march right over to her and demand an explanation, but something inside of him urged caution. Bethany was a top special agent for the FBI. She had to be on assignment. Still, law enforcement was in the business of preventing crime, not creating crime, so why was she involved in an illegal activity like bank robbery? In Daniel’s book, Bethany’s actions violated the oath of a law enforcement officer. How could she protect and serve if she was the one wielding the rifle?

Daniel’s attention was quickly diverted as the leader abruptly shot another stream of bullets into the ceiling. “Alright, who is the manager here?” He paced in front of the terrified group of hostages. All of the other robbers besides Hairy, wait, what had Bethany called him? Oh, yeah, J.P. All of the robbers besides J.P. stood behind the leader, keeping a wary eye on the situation, their guns at the ready. J.P. lay moaning on the floor right where he had fallen. The leader moved closer to one of the men who obviously worked at the bank. “Are you the manager?”

The man put his hands up in mock surrender and shook his head. “No, no, it’s that guy.” He pointed to an older man in a dark suit who gave him a withering look.

The leader smiled and sauntered over to the manager. He motioned with his gun. “Get up, mister manager. I’d like to see the inside of your vault.”

“It’s time locked,” the man sputtered.

“You’re quite right,” the leader said with a smile as he checked his watch. “Isn’t it wonderful that we’re here at precisely the correct time? Now, if you’ll just come punch your code into the keypad, we’ll be in business.”

Daniel could tell the man was terrified but was also trying his best to stall and protect the bank. His hesitance wasn’t lost on the leader either, who grabbed the manager’s tie and brought him to his feet. Then he pushed him toward the back of the bank where the vault was located. The man stumbled but righted himself and started walking. The leader, the robber with the limp and the bodybuilder robber all followed him, each carrying a large black duffel bag they had brought in with them when they’d first entered the bank. Daniel noticed there were two other bags of supplies the robbers had carried in, and he wondered briefly what was inside of them. He remembered that bank robberies usually averaged six minutes from start to finish, and he wondered fleetingly when this team was planning to make their escape. They had already been in the bank quite a long time by robbery standards and had gone way past the average.

Bethany was the only robber left to watch the hostages, although J.P. was still lying on the floor, suffering from his injuries. She took over the pacing in front of the line of people, and Daniel watched her carefully, wondering if there was any way he could find an opportunity to talk to her in private so he could figure out what was going on.

The phone suddenly rang, the shrill sound startling the group. Bethany ignored it, but after the tenth ring or so, Daniel spoke up. “Want me to answer that for you?”

“Stay where you are,” she said flatly, pointing her gun at him. Now that he knew her identity, Daniel knew he wasn’t in danger and she wouldn’t fire, but he didn’t want to push her too far and ruin her cover either. Still, he had big questions for her. How could he get her alone to talk? Was it even possible in the confines of this insane robbery situation?

The ringing continued.

“Look, you must know this is taking too long. The police are probably already outside surrounding the place. They’re undoubtedly controlling the phones, and that’s a negotiator calling to talk you through this mess. You need to listen to him.” A couple of the other hostages groaned when he spoke, apparently frustrated with his goading.

“Shut up,” Bethany said roughly, taking a step in his direction. “It’s too early for the police to be here.”

The ringing continued.

Daniel couldn’t help himself. All of the hurt and frustration he’d felt at losing Bethany suddenly came to a head, and now that he had found her, he had to push forward, regardless of the circumstances. “It’s got to be them,” he said, not knowing if it really was or not, but trying hard to sell the bluff. He started to stand and confront her, but she moved in closer and actually pointed the gun directly at his head. When she spoke, her voice was low and cold like ice. “I said, stay where you are. Don’t move again unless you want a new hole in your head.”