The logs were scattered in a hurry, with oil drums thrown across the road, many broken and spilling gasoline everywhere.
Saul pulled out a lighter and ignited the gasoline, sending a wave of flames toward the car parked nearby.
Prepared for this moment, he jumped into the car, started the ignition, and sped away, disappearing down the road in an instant.
Behind them, police cars screeched to a halt, their officers stunned by the raging fire consuming the asphalt ahead.
What should they do now?
On one hand, a bank robbery was unfolding at a distance, while on the other, the fire threatened to explode at any moment, far too close for comfort.
They faced a dilemma—two urgent crises unfolding simultaneously.
The deputy director of the police unit knew they couldn't simply turn away from the scene. Even though they weren't professional firefighters, they couldn't ignore the danger right in front of them.
After a tense moment, he decided to split the team. He allocated half of the officers to manage the chaos and prevent the fire from spreading further, while leading the other half to find another route.
This response, while thorough, still cost them valuable time. The detour, combined with the risk of the logs overturning their vehicle, granted the robbers an additional fifteen minutes to carry out their heist.
...
"Stop wasting time! I've given you plenty of it already. If you stall any longer, I'll know how to use this!" Big Sparrow glanced at his watch, frustration mounting. According to the plan, the police should have been on the move by now. Time was slipping away!
The bank manager exchanged anxious glances with the old security guard beside him. Honestly, he had never felt less confident in a security detail than he did at that moment.
Could anyone believe that this elderly guard was more dangerous than the robbers themselves?
The security guard knew he couldn't do anything. Losing his job would be bad, but it was better than facing the fate of someone who lost their life in the line of duty.
Hearing the robber's agreement, the security guard nodded and lowered his weapon from the manager's forehead.
"Alright, I'll open the door. Just don't shoot. You've already won; there's no need for murder, right?" The manager, trying to placate the robber, feared that a confrontation could erupt and jeopardize everyone's safety.
Entering a series of codes, the heavy security door buzzed and swung open. Big Sparrow and his crew aimed their guns at the bank's employees but focused their attention on the stacks of cash in the small safe.
After exhaling deeply, Big Sparrow gestured to his men. Aside from one wounded member leaning against the wall, the rest rushed toward the safe.
Their eyes lit up at the sight of the cash, excitement bubbling over as they let out muffled cheers, their faces flushed with adrenaline.
"Hurry up!" Big Sparrow urged. The four men excitedly grabbed their backpacks and began stuffing them with money.
Surprisingly, cash was heavier than most people realized.
Sean, ever the expert on the matter, knew that a hundred-dollar bill weighed about 1.05 grams. Thus, ten thousand dollars weighed roughly 105 grams, and one million would be around 10 kilograms—though this was based on the rare hundred-dollar bill.
Most transactions, even among criminals, involved twenty-dollar bills, making one million dollars in twenties weigh nearly 50 kilograms. No matter how determined they were, 50 kilograms could not be carried effortlessly.
"How much cash do we have?" Big Sparrow asked the manager with a grin.
"More than 2.4 million," the manager replied after a moment's hesitation, as if calculating.
Despite their efforts, the four backpacks weren't fully packed, but each man was still loaded down with about 50 kilograms, which felt surprisingly manageable.
"Alright, then, we're leaving!" Big Sparrow signaled to his crew. The bank staff felt a wave of relief wash over them as the robbers turned to leave. Suddenly, Big Sparrow pivoted and raised his gun, ordering the three security guards to the ground.
The gunfire erupted—bullets rained down on the guards, and within seconds, they were all down, blood splattering across the floor.
The terrified manager and staff covered their heads and screamed, bracing for the worst, convinced the robbers would eliminate all witnesses.
But the expected pain never came; Big Sparrow had lowered his weapon.
"Jon, I've avenged you!" he called to the wounded guard struggling to stand.
"Thank you!" Jon managed a pained smile, blood staining his clothes.
"You're welcome. I'm sorry." Big Sparrow pulled a pistol from his waist and aimed it directly at Jon, causing the wounded man's expression to shift dramatically.
"What are you doing?" someone shouted from behind.
Ignoring the protest, Big Sparrow explained to Jon, "I don't want to say this, but you're too injured. There's no way to get you medical help in time unless we leave you behind for the police to find. You know how this works; no one's going to risk their safety to save someone else."
Jon opened his mouth to protest but found himself at a loss for words.
"I don't want to do this," Big Sparrow continued. "But it's too dangerous for us all if we take you with us. I've avenged you, and I hope you won't be alone in hell."
With that, Big Sparrow pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang out, and Jon's body slumped to the ground, blood pooling around him.
"Alright, let's go!" Big Sparrow commanded, turning on his heel. The crew, faces pale but resolute, quickly exited the bank, leaving Jon's lifeless body behind without a second glance.
Outside, the bank manager exhaled a shaky breath as the robbers vanished. He glanced up at the shattered security camera, then turned to the remaining staff who were still in shock.
"Wait—where's the 200,000?" the manager suddenly demanded, pointing toward an unopened safe. "I mentioned 2.4 million earlier, and that includes the cash in there!"
As his words registered, the surviving bank employees exchanged furtive glances, realization dawning upon them.
A wave of tension filled the air, and they instinctively swallowed hard, eyeing the unopened safe with a mix of fear and greed. The earlier sense of relief had evaporated, replaced by a gnawing desire for the money they had narrowly escaped losing.
"Are we really going to let that go?" one of the employees whispered, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
"This isn't over," another replied, eyes glinting with determination. "We can't just walk away now."
The atmosphere shifted as they contemplated their next move, the stakes higher than ever. The robbery had shaken them to their core, yet the tantalizing thought of that cash lingered in their minds, urging them toward a decision that could change everything.