the second gunman in the left shoulder.
I took a moment to line up my next shots.
Bam! Bam!
The second gunman went down, his machine gun skittering away from him.
“Cease fire!” I yelled, and when George stopped shooting, I jumped up from my position and advanced on the two prone bodies. I motioned for George to converge on our targets with me. My gun was trained on the first gunman, who wasn’t moving.
I knelt down and felt for a pulse from his carotid artery and got nothing. Still pointing my gun at his head, I patted him down for other weapons with my left hand. I found a couple of magazine clips, which I removed and tossed away, as well as a sheathed hunting knife, which I also removed.
I whipped off his ski mask, and then staggered back. The face was that of a young kid, early twenties. His skin color seemed at that moment to go from normal to ashen white, even though that wasn’t possible, not that quickly.
Pivoting, I felt for a heartbeat with the second gunman. I discerned a weak pulse, so I instructed George to call 911.
Right on cue, the wailing of sirens reached us. Way to go, dad!
Now that the situation was under control, I sprinted over to the office where the others were and yelled that it was safe to come out. They staggered out, one by one.
“Everything’s OK. Everybody’s safe now.” I said.
Spontaneous hugs and cheering filled the room. The sirens were getting louder by the moment. After what seemed like an eternity, a dozen squad cars burst upon the scene. The red and blue flashing lights had to be the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen.
I asked one of the women, who had helped drag the body of one of the gunman earlier, to go and instruct the policemen that it was all clear and to come in and do their thing.
After I gave the last order, I collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. I pushed the gun away from me and leaned up against the teller counter.
The adrenaline rush that I had felt up to that moment started to subside. I wiped my brow with my sleeve and leaned back. Things got a bit blurry after that.
I remember being poked and prodded, my vital signs taken, and then I was questioned over and over about what happened. I could see that my fellow hostages were also going through the same routine as me. My answers were as specific as I could make them, but the whole time I just wanted to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.
The word hero was mentioned over and over as I overheard snatches of their conversations. “He just charged forward and tackled ‘em,” and “I’ve never seen anything as crazy as that take down,” and “We would have died in there, I’m sure of it.”
As I drifted back to sleep, a smile crossed my lips. Not too bad for a desk jockey.
What will tomorrow bring?
An Unlikely Hero Page 3
