Jet's POV

~~~

When I was a little kid I used to get bullied all the time, not that it should seem like much of a surprised considering seven year olds didn't have a great understanding of why it was possible for someone else their age to be born with differently colored eyes. By the time I hit ten I'd probably heard about every insult possible, from witch to mutant, I even remember there being a girl who thought I was a vampire.

Along with being born with a freaky pair of eyes I used to be a pretty outgoing kid, attempting to make friends left and right. I think it was because of all the bullying that I ended up becoming a social recluse, finding it easier to avoid everyone than to watch yet another girl or boys eyes wide before they backed away from me as if I were a rabid dog intending to bite them.

You couldn't exactly say how I was treated was confidence building no matter how much my parents tried to encourage me.

Regardless of the bullying I never hated people, I was always willing to be friends with them no matter how they treated me. My best example of this was when I was nine, I'd started my third new school and must have been going there for about two months or so, I was kinda fitting in and the kids there weren't the worst I'd met. There was a boy in my class, whose name I can't recall so let's call him Chris, Chris quite openly thought I was a weirdo and whenever he was in the mood for insulting someone I'd be his target, often copping the brunt of lame elementary school put downs.

I didn't like him at first, no shock there.

One day I was waiting out the front for my mom to pick me up, she was a little late because of work which was nothing unusual for me and I was perfectly content with sitting on the sidewalk, bouncing a tennis ball up and down, over and over, waiting to see the familiar car to pull up out the front.

At the same time Chris was getting collected by his father, I watched the forty year old man stumble (what I didn't realize at the time was that he was drunk) into the school and pull his son out by the arm, calling him a variety of names that I'd also heard from kids in my day to day life. One of the teachers then came jogging out, said something to Chris's father about the how the boy's grades needed improving then went back inside.

Because of being bullied so often I'd learnt how to not be noticed at a very early age and was invisible to the father when he struck his son across the face, hard enough to make him fall back and land on the sidewalk. At the same time the man was drunkenly raving about his son being a failure and before I knew it I'd jumped out of my hiding spot and was yelling for him to leave Chris alone, regardless of the fact I'd been bullied by him from the moment I arrived at the school.

Even though I was still young I was able to easily piece together the thought that maybe Chris wasn't so bad after all, maybe instead of being some monster who called me a freak it was his father who was the monster and he was simply a product of the people around him.

I hardly knew the kid, I didn't know his last name or his favorite color or any of the things kids cared about, I knew nothing to do with him yet I willingly jumped between him and his father then began screaming bloody murder.

The man tried to shut me up by backhanding me across the face, once.
He was only given one chance.

Unlike my crippling shyness my deep-set anger issues had been with me from the second I was able to throw a tantrum and I was already angry from seeing him hit Chris, his attempt with me just fueled my anger and next thing he knew an eight year old had given him a single, crippling punch to the nuts that dropped him to the ground like a bad smelling sack of flour.
To be honest I would have done it regardless of whether or not he hit me.

I stood there for a couple of seconds, watching the balding middle ager groan on the pavement before offering Chris my hand, pulling him up from the ground, grabbing my backpack then running inside to the safety of teachers.

As soon as I'd relayed what happened the police were called the drunk was thrown in the back of a squad car and my mom had pulled up out the front of the school, running inside and worrying over why the cops had been called. As it turned out this wasn't the first time the police had been called because of Chris's dad and by this point they'd decided it would be better if he was sent to jail and his two sons (one who was too young to go to school) were put into the system so they could be raised by a foster family.

Mom managed to convince the officers to let her have the boys stay with us until the end of the week, giving the government some time to find them somewhere better suited to their needs.

Right up until Saturday when Chris and his brother got into some strict looking ladies car he'd been nice to me and spent most of his time apologizing for how he'd treated me. It was a shame we didn't get along sooner, I imagine if we did we would have ended up being friends and probably stayed in contact.

My whole point when it came to telling this story is that just because someone comes off as bad or even weird you shouldn't automatically jump to conclusions because sometimes they might have their reasons or be suffering over something you mightn't know about. This is the exact reason I couldn't bring myself to hate or fear Gee because when I first met Chris I first thought the only reason he came to the school was to tease me and by the last time I saw him I'd come to the conclusion that he was easily one of the nicest people in the world and the only reason he acted so horrible was because of his horrible father.

Gee had kept me safe from the real danger in this situation, Pax, despite it being clear the white haired robber was as capable of turning on his friend as he was attacking me.

Pax was a ticking, nuclear bomb just waiting to go off.
And Gee was this poor guy on the bomb squad, trying to defuse it before it was too late.

Ring, ring.

The sound of the phone ringing on the opposite side of the room snapped me out of my thoughts and I sat upright as I watched Pax stroll casually across the room, sitting on the bench, putting his gun beside him in the bench then answering the phone, putting it on loudspeaker so everyone could hear exactly what was going on. I didn't even know why he bother to do it, I couldn't care less if I could hear the negations going on between him and the guy on the other end.

I'm either gonna die or gonna live, what happens in between I wasn't particularly concerned with.

'Pax, are you there?'

"You betcha, what do you want? Are going to ask for more hostages now? No wait, let me guess. This is the moment where you try to convince me that I'm about to ruin my future with a harebrained get rich quick scheme?" If I didn't like Heath Ledger and would probably compare Pax to his rendition of the Joker. They're both somewhat charismatic nutbags but on the other hand the Joker was fictional and easy to like, Pax is very real and very much an asshole, this dude wouldn't disappear after a hundred and fifty-three minutes.

'I'm not here to talk you out of it, I just want to make sure everyone's okay. Has anything happened at all?'

"Something bad happening in the middle of a bank robbery? Now what would make you think that?" I swear, if I get a chance to make a grab for a gun I'm gonna do it and I'll make sure I won't miss when I aim at him, the world would be better off without Pax in it.

'We heard some screaming earlier, is anyone injured or dead?' Vic sounded awful cautious and he was right to, if he said one thing wrong everyone in this room would be killed in seconds and Pax seems the sort who would then blow his own brains out. 'You're not going to get in trouble if anything's happened.' Yeah right, with the way he's going I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to bring back the electric chair, they damn well should.

"Man, I'd get my ass hauled in prison for half the things that I've done. Robbing a bank or busting a few skulls is the least of my worries." I noticed that when he said that Pax didn't sound ashamed or concerned for his well being, he was gloating, rubbing it in the negotiators face and at the same time further unnerving the hostages.

'I'm sure you can find some way to avoid it. If everyone gets out of that bank unharmed the police can get you a great lawyer, you might be able to get away with eight years in a good prison and five years house arrest. I'll tell you what, if you walk out right now I can promise you it'll only be five years prison and three on house arrest. You'd be getting the same as someone with no police record.' If I were to hear that Pax only had to serve that little amount of time then I'll go and find him as soon as he gets out and kill him, he deserves it for what he's put me and everyone else in this room through.

"So you're telling me I march out and suffer minimal consequences?" Pax asked, his voice making it sound like he was intending to take the deal. I looked at Vera beside me whose eyes were bright with hope and the second she saw me watching her she gripped my hand tightly, as if breaking my fingers was going to help get as out of here.

'Yes, it's a promise.'

Pax grinned and crossed one leg over the other, now sounding downright gleeful as he replied, "okay well, I'll open the gates now."

'Really, you'll come out?' I was on the verge of face palming, this guy was supposed to be a negotiator, I can't believe that he couldn't tell when someone was quite clearly fucking with him. Pax might be doing something incredibly illegal but was enjoying himself like there was no tomorrow, everything from the drama out the front that we could only hear to scaring the hostages.

"Yeah, why not? You go ahead and tell the cops to forget all about the things I've done...the twenty or so people I've killed, the places I've held up, the tonnes of marijuana and coke that I've smuggled and the two girls I've raped. Mention it to them and I'm sure they'll be more than happy to blow it all off and give me a minimum sentence." My mouth fell open when I held him rattle off a long line of felonies, I'd expected him to say some pretty nasty shit but nothing like what he came up with.
Then I was hit very hard with the reality that he would have literally raped me if Gee hadn't come running in to save the day. Before it had seemed closer to a probably and now I realized it had been about to happen, I was nearly raped by this nutcase and the only person who was able to prevent it had been Gee even though Pax could have just as easily grabbed a gun and shot him right between the eyes.

If I get out of here I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure Gee doesn't go to prison.

'Ahh, could you repeat that?' On the other end of the phone Vic sounded absolutely stunned by Pax's gloating confession and I could tell his response was one of him coming to terms with the fact he wouldn't be able to talk Pax out of this no matter how many cases he's handled or how well trained he thinks he is.

Gee's the only one who can get everyone out alive, the police can't do anything. Pax is gonna turn this bank into a living hell and his partner is the only person in here with a gun, the only person who can shoot him before he kills everybody, takes whatever money he can and makes a run for it. This poor guy who saved me, he was never going to get any of the money to begin with, this was all a ruse so Pax could have his crazy fun. There was never two robbers to begin with, this was Pax's game and he wasn't going to let anybody spoil it or leave without his say so.

We're all fucked.

Pax turned off the speaker, picked up the receiver and talked directly to Vic, no trickery or sarcasm, just the deadly voice of a lunatic. "It's English, plain and simple. No dice. I'm here to see this through to the finish."

Notes