Beautiful Heist

16. Support Mental Health...Or I'll Kill You

Sixteen

Support Mental Health...Or I'll Kill You

Okay, I'll admit I was waiting for John to do something dramatic to get us out. Like pull out a pen-looking device that was actually a laser and cut a hole in the metal. Or maybe some small explosive device to blow the door open. You know, the spy-like sort of things you see in movies.

But did he? Not really. In fact, I think I was more shocked by what he did do than what he could have.

And just what was that?

He knocked. Three quick raps against the metal door leading outside.

That's it.

"What the hell?" a man said from outside. "Did you just hear that?"

It took a moment for the other to answer. "Yeah, but it's was probably just the door settling."

"But it sounded like someone was knocking."

I heard the sound of something clicking and then a thud echoed.

If this guy was going to open the door, he had to be one of the dumbest criminals...

"Are you insane? You know how Frost will react if she finds out you even opened it. Did you not hear the orders? Only she or Ryan is allowed inside."

"It's not like I'm going to do anything. I'm just going to make sure..."

The squeaking of the hinges echoed through the container and John quickly let go of my hand, stepping in front of me. When the sunlight poured in through opening, I was watching the man who was standing outside and the gun he'd had in the holster poised in his hand at his side.

His problem? He was looking down as he did and definitely wasn't expecting to see John standing there.

Only a split second after looking him right in the eyes, John struck out swiftly, punching him right in the face. The man's eyes rolled back in his head as he fell backward, dropping like a rock onto the ship's deck with a loud thud as blood spurted from his nose.

John was moving then, much faster than I would have been able to. I was still standing in the container as he jumped out, kicking the door open wider, and grabbed the fallen gun from the ground. I heard a shout just as John stood up and turned toward the other man, who had his gun raised in his direction. Just when he pulled the trigger, John lunged forward and the bullet ricocheted off another container.

My panic rose after John and the man disappeared behind the door, followed by two more shots. Questions were flying through my head so rapidly, I could hardly keep up.

What was going on?

Was it John's gun or the other man's that went off?

Was John hit?

Who just shouted?

Were those other people coming for us?

And most importantly...why couldn't I get myself to move?

John told me to run, but I couldn't. Not when I wanted him right beside me.

The shouts were coming closer, though I couldn't tell how close. They echoed around me.

I was finally able to get myself to move forward and outside, just as more shots rang out, closer to me than I anticipated. The bullets whizzed harmlessly by, one behind and the other two directly by my head. They were so close, my hair ruffled in the breeze. I could practically hear them zooming past.