The Preying Doctor by Nadia Siddiqui (ebook reader that looks like a book TXT) 📕

to keep it clean—but in a bank they aren’t really certain just how to pull that off. At least it should only be moments, just a handful more, before the police break in or, at the very least, William and Denzel come to their aid from the roof.

Only Nathan is wrong yet again.

From outside, the sounds of an automatic weapon are heard, causing everybody in the room but himself to flinch. Doctor Cox hisses that the man in scrubs needs to keep the pressure on the wound and that they are probably safe behind the desks. It’s easily apparent that the gunshots are not being fired into the bank or even in the direction of the bank. No, instead they appear to be being fired at the police out front of the building. The sound is deafening at first, carrying over through the glass to the point of shaking. It’s impossible to speculate as to who, what, or even how many people might be causing this hail of bullets.

All inside the bank are more than distracted enough by the happenings out front that they don’t notice another addition inside of the bank until it’s too late. In all of the noise from outside they don’t hear the vault’s heavy metal door scraping open. They don’t hear the heavy thud of duffle bags stuffed full of newly printed bills and other valuable items. It’s not until Nathan hears the click of a gun being cocked right behind his head. He can’t stop or let go of his grasp. The girl toward the front of the building screams, apparently being shot hasn’t yet killed her, but her screams of pain are something that works down inside of his skin. Something he won’t easily forget. Using the distraction to his advantage, Nathan whips around and puts his combat training to good use. He grabs the wrists of the man behind him and holds them steady with one hand while his other elbow rails backward in an attempt to catch the new assailant off guard, to catch him and hopefully to disarm him. More than that, he needs to provide the doctor with enough time to get that wound as much under control as possible, as it now seems that there isn’t going to be anybody coming in to help them. There isn’t going to be a medical team until whatever is happening outside is stopped.

The company will say that none of their lives matter.

The company will tell him that he should have simply shot the doctor in the face, executed all of the possible witnesses, and then blamed it on the armed assailant. They are going to tell him that this is a situation that is practically gift wrapped for him that he shouldn’t have allowed to get so very out of his control. Nathan just doesn’t have it in him to let Logan die, not like this. He doesn’t deserve some nameless, silent execution or to die choking on his own blood. He’s not a man who should have to endure such a thing. Nobody should, other than the doctor. Nathan still has every plan to execute him at the first available moment.

The man behind him is more competent than he was expecting. The man fights back, countering each of Nathan’s blows with blows of his own. Nathan manages to knock the large gun out of this man's hands but at the expense of losing his own. They both go skittering out into the lobby somewhere that he is not going to be able to get to in time. Nathan delivers punch after punch. He blocks and weaves, he moves until the man finally is able to pull out the pistol from his thigh holster and aim it at Nathan—but Nathan doesn’t stop. He can be healed. The company will take care of him, and he can be replaced; seeing this clearly written in Nathan’s eyes, the new assailant aims the gun at Logan’s head and gets the reaction he wants—Nathan stills, just for a fraction of a second.

“Now, get on the ground like a good little boy, would you?” The new assailant's voice seems foreign. It sounds like he isn’t from anywhere within the States, but it could be false. It could be a voice that he is doing specifically to make himself sound like he’s from anywhere other than here to make himself different. Nathan cannot see anything about his face other than his hazel eyes bordering on a golden brown. He can tell that this prick is smiling though; he can see that written on his face. Nathan doesn’t move. “I will shoot him. I must tell you, I don’t care if any of you live. As you can tell, my partners are making quick work of the men outside. It will be only a few moments before the rest of you are all cleared out.”

“No,” Nathan answers, calling his bluff.

“I do not wish to play this game with you; do as I say, now.” The assailant cocks the gun aimed at Logan’s poorly armored head. There won’t be any coming back from that. While Logan no doubt would be willing to make that sacrifice, strangely, Nathan doesn’t want him to die. “You, get your hands off of him. If he dies, he dies.” The man in scrubs doesn’t move; his face is a mask of resolution to his Hippocratic oath that he will do no harm. Not that the doctor seems to be nearly as dedicated. Really, the whole thing seems to be a joke. Would the man have dove over the doctor if he knew about all of the things that the doctor has done? Perhaps he does know and admires him still. Nathan isn’t much of a fan of the world he lives in. The real hero is here, lying on the ground with a bullet in his shoulder. Nathan takes a half step toward the assailant