Daylight shone into the banking hall from the glass doors and windows. Tension filled the air, I smiled. These people would most probably die today, by my hand. I had a pistol in my right hand and a rifle slung across my left shoulder. The pistol pointed at the cashier who was stuffing my bag with so much cash, I would not have to go to school anymore for a lifetime, or get a job either, or even get my kids school or jobs 馃槀馃槀馃槀.. Scattered on the floors of the hall were customers and bankers lying face down on the floor saying silent prayers. Indeed, this was the perfect time to pray. I was going to kill at least 4 people before leaving here; it was like a trademark for every heist I partook in.
"Shut up!!" I yelled at the top of my voice as two nearby hostages said a word or two to themselves.
"...300, 299, 298, 297..." One of my companions kept counting down. We had about 10 minutes before the cops would get here. Or 20. Or 30, I mean we're in Nigeria remember?
"Keep it down J." I said to him. "I can almost not hear myself yell."
Somebody giggled nearby, I nudged the cashier to keep doing her work then I walked to where the idiot was. I raised my pistol to her head, elderly woman she was, but stupid enough to laugh at something I actually meant. I pulled the trigger. Boom! The gun went, startling the entire hall; deafening them, and me.馃槀馃槀
"Anybody else?" I asked. I could hear whimpers from here and there and people muttering words like "God please let me not die and leave my children." These people were dumb. They thought God could save them if I walked over to them and pulled the trigger.
"That's what I thought." I said when nobody responded to my question. "Woman, 1 minute or you're dead." I told the cashier.
"I'm going as fast as I can." She said, terrified. She had sweated so profusely I could see her forehead dripping and her white collar was stained with melted makeup.
"One minute, or you're dead." I repeated myself.
"...90, 89, 88..." J continued. His name was Jason, but during heists like this we used our names' initials.
"Yo J. Stop. Tell T, car ready in 15."
"Yes boss." He said, turning around and talking indistinctly through comms. I liked my team. We were equipped with state of the art tech and weaponry. We had sophistication the Nigerian Police had never even seen in movies yet. And all our heists were so successful, our gang was christened "The Terror" by authorities. Oh well, cool name still.馃槀馃槀
Bang! I pulled the trigger, again. This time the gun's barrel was aimed at the cashier and her lifeless body lay on the floor, gradually being soaked up by her blood.
Ruthless I was, but beautifully so. I was just another gangster, dropped out of med school, joined a few cults and joined the robbing business. I left the cults I belonged to in the university, by killing the bosses in cold blood. I did not take over the leadership, as was always custom. I had bigger plans. I never wanted to be a medical doctor, my parents forced it onto my JAMB registration form. I guess that is why I ended up like this, so don't blame me for blowing my one chance at being a nerd in a hospital. Blame my parents, I would probably be an actor if they let me.
"Boss!" Jason shouted.
"What?" I shrugged looking at him. "She had it coming."
"Let's go. Time's up."
"Oh shit." I muttered, as I heard the sirens wailing in the distance. Jason hurried into the car. When I got to the door out of the bank, I halted abruptly. This was going to be a happy story; I hated happy stories. I turned around, pointed the pistol at one man reaching for his pockets in the corner, and shot him. I then pointed the pistol at another man who tried to make a run for it out back, he died. Signature signed, now this story would not be such a happy one.
A few seconds and about five police vans had surrounded the place. Jason and my partner had drove off, abandoning me into the hands of the police. I looked up at an adjacent storey building: there were two sharpshooters set on the flat building tops with sniper rifles. A chopper came by, I was baffled. A police chopper in Nigeria? And snipers too? Those were new ones, they were taking their movie breaks seriously; and learning from them.
"You are advised to drop your weapon. You have been completely surrounded." A voice came from a microphone on the chopper. My life was done. I thought about my parents, about school, the classes I ditched, my good grades, the future I pictured for myself had I made it through med school by mistake. Now, all that was in flames. It was either prison, or I die right here. And I sure as hell was not going to prison.!
