“Here’s what’s going to happen—Hannah, you and your police buddies are going to back the hell up and let us drive on out of here—and oh, officer, I’m not stupid enough to walk out of here without taking a hostage with me.”

  Mateo took a moment to lick his lips; the taste of fear lived on its surface. The cracks were beginning to show, both in his voice and his composure. He told himself it was just adrenaline as his finger tapped the top of the phone—not fear, not the doubt that they’d make it out of this one as free men. But the tremor that ran up his hand said otherwise.

  The game of Russian roulette he’d been playing with Officer Hannah dried his mouth and heightened his nerves, but it was his turn, and he let his gut draw next.

  “I’ll let them go unharmed once we’re in the wind,” he said. His heart remained heavy, but his voice was calm and direct. Well… he hoped it sounded steady, not like the ticking time bomb of a mind ready to explode. “Those are my terms, officer. That’s the only way everyone in this bank doesn’t leave in a body bag—your move.”

  “You’ve got all the control right now, I see that,” Hannah said. “You’re calling the shots. You said you’ll let them go once you’re out—okay, we can work with that. Let’s talk about how we can make that happen safely.”

  “Are you stalling?”

  “No—no, I’m just trying to establish the best way we can get you what you want and keep everyone alive in there,” said Hannah.

  Mateo’s jaw tensed. His grip around the phone tightened. “You’re trying to play me for a fool!” he shouted.

  “Try to remain calm; no one is trying to play you. I can sense in your voice that you’ve been through a lot. Tell me, what made you push it this far?”

  “Psychological games—you think you can play shrink with my head? Manipulate me to surrender? Nah.”

  Mateo threw down the phone, stormed into the next room, and grabbed one of the hostages, dragging her into the hall.

  “Please—please don’t hurt me!” the old woman screamed, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep it together. “I’ve done everything you asked!”

  Mateo picked up the shotgun and pressed it against her forehead, pinning her back to the wall.

  A trembling whimper shot from her lips. Tears streaked down her frail cheeks as she looked death in the eye—but she wasn’t ready to go.

  “Please, sir, I have grandkids—my husband, he’s ill, and I’m the only one he has left. Please don’t kill me!” she begged, shaking violently.

  “Gabe,” Jai-Lee whispered under her breath. “Do that—you know, super-hearing thingy you do—and listen to what’s going on.”

  Gabriel sat back down, closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly as he steadied his mind. At first, all he could hear was the chatter of people in nearby cars and the faint chirping of birds. He focused harder, centering himself.

  Bang!

  Gabriel’s eyes shot open. “Gunshots, Jai—gunshots. They’re in trouble.”

  Mateo stormed back to the chair, dropped into it, and snatched up the phone. “You have one hour to meet my terms. After that, a body drops every hour.”

  Before Officer Hannah could respond, Mateo slammed down the phone.

  “Jai, I’ve got to help them,” Gabriel said frantically.

  “You sure about this, Gabe? If you do this, everyone will know who Dragonblade is—no more myth,” Jai-Lee warned.

  “I’m sure. I can’t sit by and let innocent people die,” Gabriel said firmly.

  “Well, I guess this is when the myth becomes the legend,” Jai-Lee said, raising her hand to signal Coach Kirk.

  Coach Kirk walked down the aisle toward them. “Sorry for the delay, guys—no updates yet.”

  “Don’t worry, Coach,” Jai-Lee said with a sly grin. “Gabriel just needs to step outside and, you know… do what boys do.”

  “Gabriel, you sure you can’t just hold it?” asked Coach Kirk.

  Gabriel cracked a half-smile. “Nah, Coach, I don’t think I can hold it any longer. If I don’t go now, it’s an accident waiting to happen.”

  Coach Kirk sighed, rubbing his cheek. “Alright, go—but come straight back.”

  “I will,” Gabriel said, jogging off the coach.

  “Sarge, he’s moved to timed executions,” Hannah said. “That’s a hard escalation. Prepare to move—stand by for green light on immediate tactical intervention if we hear another shot,” ordered Sergeant Keller.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “We’ve got movement on the roof!” an officer radioed in from the helicopter.

  “They’re trying to escape?” Keller barked.

  As the camera zoomed in, the officers’ mouths dropped open, their eyes wide in disbelief. Both rubbed their eyes, thinking they were seeing things—but no matter how hard they rubbed their eyes Dragonblade didn’t disappear.

  One officer hesitated before keying his radio. “Sarge… you’re not going to believe this—but those stories about Dragonblade… they’re true. He’s on the roof.”

  So the rumours are true… guess my mom’s not crazy delulu after all. I better get her some flowers and an apology ready—because once she sees the news tonight, the meat won’t be the only thing on the chopping block.

  “Boys,” Sergeant Keller radioed back to the chopper team, “let’s just hope he hasn’t sealed the fate of those men and women in there.”

  Dragonblade ripped the metal seal off the rooftop and dove through.

  Bang!

  Mateo jumped from his chair. “Is that the Feds? I told them what would happen if they didn’t listen!”

  “Maybe they didn’t listen because they knew you were bluffing, Mateo. Did you ever think of that? And what got into you anyway—pretending to kill hostages, taunting the cops? This has gone too far,” said Dillion.

  “What did you just say? Did you use my government name in front of a witness? They don’t get much dumber than you, do they,” Mateo snarled.

  The woman huddled in the corner, trembling. “I—I won’t say anything. I swear to God, my lips are sealed,” she stuttered.

  Mateo’s eyes darkened.“They’d better be,” he said coldly. “Because next time bullets go off in here, it won’t be an act—it’ll be your brains splattered all over that wall. You understand me?”

  The woman closed her eyes, rocking back and forth, whispering prayers.

  “Mateo, you’ve lost your damn mind, man. Your head’s gone,” Joseph said.

  Mateo ignored him. The game he was playing was dangerous, but all he saw were the iron curtains closing behind him. He had to roll the dice and pray for a seven or eleven. Anything else—and they were cooked.

  “Santiago—Joseph! Get in here!” Mateo shouted. “Dillion, watch the hostages. Anyone makes a sudden move—shoot them! You think you can handle that, or do I need to hold your hand through that too?”

  Dillion stormed out, brushing past Santiago and Joseph as they entered.

  Santiago’s eyes darted to the old woman but quickly looked away. “What’s up? What happened?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s under control,” Mateo muttered, eyes shifting.

  A loud bang echoed down the hall. “Check it out,” he ordered.

  “Huh? Why us? Why can’t you or Dillion do it?” Santiago asked.

  “Yeah, man,” Joseph added. “If that’s the Feds, we’re toast—while you two get away.”

  Mateo buried his face in his hands. “Idiots,” he shouted. “It’s never simple with you two, is it? I don’t know what Afra sees in you. Either check the room—or stay here with the hostages. But if it’s the Feds, you really want to get caught holding hostages with your records?”

  Joseph nudged Santiago’s chest with the back of his hand. “He’s got a point. Let’s go.”

  As the men arrived at the door at the end of the corridor, Santiago grabbed the handle, pausing for a moment before exchanging a nervous look with Joseph. He took a deep breath, composing himself. His hand twisted and pushed the door open.

  “You see anything?” Joseph asked, heart racing.

  “Nah, I don’t see—” Santiago was cut off as his body flew backward, crashing down the hall.

  And out of the darkness stepped Dragonblade. Joseph froze up—he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  “I’m going to need your men to stand down,” Gabriel said calmly.

  But Joseph couldn’t move. His mind couldn’t process what he was seeing.

  Santiago stumbled back to his feet, eyes wide. The pair remembered every story—the myth, the vigilante, the countless criminals he’d buried in New York City. Without a second thought, they turned and bolted straight past Mateo, out of the bank, surrendering on sight.

  Dillion looked on, confused. What made them just throw away their freedom like that?

  He didn’t get it, but he was about to.

  As he made his way to the back, there he was—Dragonblade. Dillion’s soul looked like it had already left his body. He stood frozen, his hands twitching, his face pale. He could only muster one word “D-d—Dragonblade,” he stammered through his quivering lips.

  Mateo’s face scrunched as he looked on at Dillion’s lifeless face. “What the hell’s going on out there?” Mateo rose from his seat and headed out the door.

  “Dillion, what’s going on?” he asked, but Dillion wouldn’t answer.

  “Dillion,” he asked again, but there was still no answer.

  “For God’s sake—get a hold of yourself!” Mateo’s open palm swung fast, cracking across Dillion’s face with a sharp slap that echoed down the corridor.

  Dillion didn’t move. His eyes were hollow, his body trembling. His arm rose slowly, his finger pointing straight down the hallway.

  Mateo followed the direction of his trembling hand—and then he saw him.

  Dragonblade.

  The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in. Mateo’s heart slammed erratically against his ribs as his breath came in quick and short. He stumbled backward, then turned and ran as fast as he could back into the room like his life depended on it.

  He snatched the shotgun from the table and stormed back out, raising it high and pointing it at Dragonblade. “Take another step, bug man—boy, whatever you are—and I’ll blow your head clean off your shoulders, you understand me!”

  But Dragonblade kept walking forward. Each step felt like a dagger to Dillion’s heart, his breathing growing more erratic.

  “Did you not hear me? I’ll shoot!” Mateo shouted, but Dragonblade ignored his warning again.

  Mateo’s hands shook violently, his sweat-soaked gloves slipping against the metal. He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and pulled the trigger.

  The shotgun thundered, scattering ball bearings like a storm cast by the gods. Dragonblade slipped through the onslaught—his movements blurring, weaving through what looked like time itself.

  When the final shot echoed into the distance, Dragonblade stood right in front of him. His hand shot out, gripping the barrel. With a sharp twist, the weapon bent upward, rendering it useless.

  As time snapped back to its normal beat, Mateo’s eyes widened as they landed on his mangled weapon. His mouth hung open, trembling. The shotgun slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor.

  He knew in that moment it was over. His roll of the dice had landed on red.

  “It’s over,” Gabriel said calmly. He led the men outside, where police swarmed in, pinning them down and cuffing them on the spot.

  “The building’s clear,” Dragonblade said. “Your men can go in now and get the hostages.”

  The officer tipped his hat, but when he looked back— Dragonblade was gone.

  “Jai, where’s Gabriel? He’s been gone for far too long now,” Coach Kirk said.

  Jai-Lee swallowed hard. “Dunno, Coach. Maybe he’s… taking you know… a number two?”

  Coach Kirk frowned and stood up from his seat. “I’m going to find him.”

  Gaaabe… come ooooon, man… you’re out of time, Jai-Lee thought, biting her nails.

  The coach door slid open slowly, and as Coach Kirk looked down, there he was, right in front of the bottom step.

  For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Gabriel’s lips cracked into a cool smile.

  “Anyone would’ve thought you saw a ghost, Coach,” he said as he ran up the stairs, smiling again as he patted Kirk on the shoulder before heading down the aisle and back into his seat next to Jai-Lee.