The Warrior Read Online Free Page A

didn’t know what was going to happen but sensed it wouldn’t be good.
    As he continued to watch, the big man headed toward a teller, walked up to the window and slid what appeared to be a white cotton bag across the counter. It looked like an ordinary deposit bag, but when the teller’s face turned pale and her eyes widened in shock, John tensed.
    He could see the man’s lips moving, but he was toofar away to hear what was being said. All of a sudden the teller’s eyes rolled back in her head as she dropped to the floor in a faint. Everyone heard the thud as her head collided with the hard marble floor. The teller next to her screamed out for help as everything ground to a halt.
    Â 
    Wallace Deeds cursed beneath his breath, unable to believe what had just happened. In all the years he’d been doing this, he’d never had anyone faint on him before. He was a criminal, but he wasn’t stupid. At this point, his best bet was to retrieve the note he’d handed to the teller and calmly walk out of the building. To his dismay, the note was no longer on the counter. It was on the floor beside the unconscious woman.
    â€œCrap,” Wallace muttered, and slid his hand in his pocket, taking comfort from the gun he could feel inside. He glanced up and around, quickly sizing up the number of people inside the bank against his need for dough. He opted for a hasty exit.
    But his plan was screwed by a secretary who’d come to the unconscious teller’s aid. She was on her knees beside the woman and feeling for a pulse when she discovered the note.
    I have a gun. Put all your money in the bag and keep quiet or you’re a dead woman.
    Unaware that he’d been made, Deeds was already heading toward the door when the secretary stood up and screamed.
    â€œStop him! He has a gun!”
    Wallace cursed and turned. The bank guard was pulling out his pistol and coming toward him on the run. Without thinking, Wallace grabbed the nearestcustomer by the arm and put her in a choke hold as he pulled out his own gun and fired a shot into the ceiling.
    â€œEveryone on the floor! Now!” he screamed.
    The bank guard stood his ground, still aiming his weapon and shouting, “Drop the gun! Drop it! Drop it and let her go!”
    John groaned. The hostage was none other than Lisa Doggett, the young woman with the two little boys who’d been in line in front of him.
    Bad move. Bad, bad move.
    The young mother’s panic was evident as she cast a frantic, wild-eyed gaze at her little boys. Trevor, the youngest, began to cry and started toward her.
    â€œDon’t anybody move!” Wallace roared, waving the gun at the guard, then at the kids and back again.
    John knew the man was a hair’s breadth away from shooting someone, whether he meant to or not, and Trevor Doggett’s determination to get to his mother was putting him in harm’s way. There was no time for John to think about the wisdom of his actions.
    In one swift move, he pulled a knife from his boot and leaped forward, desperate to draw the gunman’s attention away from the boys, his hostage and the guard with the gun, knowing full well that he was going to get shot. Knowing full well it was going to hurt like hell—but it wasn’t going to kill him.
    That was the edge he had over everyone else in the room. He’d faced death and cheated it countless times over the last five hundred years and had every confidence in the world that he was going to cheat it again.
    When Wallace Deeds saw the movement from the corner of his eye, he swung his pistol. A man was coming at him on the run.
    â€œSon of a bitch!” he screamed, then fired.
    The shot went straight into John’s chest. He felt the impact and a sharp, searing pain, but he didn’t go down.
    When Deeds’ hostage fainted and went limp, she became a liability instead of a shield. Disgusted, he shoved her aside and squeezed off another shot.