Hey guys! Again thanks SOO MUCH for the reviews. They really make my day!

Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, but I've pretty much written the next one so it should be up soon. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 – Read and review please!

Leaving the phone on the floor, Charlie hunched over it, making it look as though he simply had his head down. He didn't think he'd been more nervous in his life, the thought of what would happen to him if he was caught sending chills down his spine. He felt the drops of perspiration trickle down his neck, as he heard the phone at the other end ring. Once, twice…

"911. What is the nature of your emergency?"

The voice seemed impossibly loud in the hushed atmosphere of the bank. Quickly smothering the handset with his jacket he gave several loud, fake coughs, glancing fearfully over his shoulder. A man nearby, still hunched up on the floor, had looked up in alarm at the noise, but Steve and his mate were still busy emptying he fourth ATM, and didn't seem to notice. Charlie let out his breath, relieved.

The nearby man gave him a wink, nodding encouragingly.

Heartened, Charlie uncovered the phone, bent his head down so his mouth was right over the mouthpiece, and whispered:

"My name's Charlie Eppes, I'm in the Joseph Bank, on the corner of Grange and Northern Streets. Two men with guns are holding me and the other customers hostage, and stealing all the money. My brother…" here Charlie stopped, swallowed, and drew a ragged breath before continuing. "My brother's been shot. He's… it's bad. He's an FBI agent."

Charlie didn't know what else to say, but the kind voice on the other end whispered back, "It's okay sir, full emergency response on its way, you hold tight. What's your name?"

"Charlie"

"Charlie, I'm not going to speak to you again for a while, but can you stay on the line? When the response team arrives at the bank, I'll transfer you to the agent in charge"

"Okay"

Charlie slid the phone further out of sight, under the folds of his jacket, to hide the brightly lit screen which indicated an active call. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the thieves were on to the last ATM. He wondered if he had done the right thing calling the police… maybe when they were done, Steve and his friend would simply walk out. But the ruthlessness that Steve had shown to Charlie and Don, the cavalier way in which they had revealed their names… Charlie felt distinctly uneasy.

He looked down at Don, and was startled to see that Don was looking back at him.

"Don!"

"Good… job…" Don rasped, the effort obviously causing him pain. "They'll catch… the bastards…" he coughed, and kept coughing, violent spasms racking his body. Between every wheeze, he took great gasping breaths, like a drowning man whose head breaks the surface.

"Don! Don, Don, its okay, just breathe, its okay…" but Charlie knew it wasn't okay, and the panic in him rose, choking him It was unbearable, seeing Don suffer, seeing anyone in so much pain. He grabbed Don's flailing hand, and held it tightly.

Don's eyes were misting over again, but he squeezed Charlie's hand, pulling him down.

"You… be… careful…" then Don's eyes slid shut, as he once again descended into unconsciousness.

Charlie stared down at Don's limp form, shattered.

Then a steadily increasing noise pierced his consciousness. He looked up, saw other heads rise, saw Steve and the other guy pause – they had emptied all six ATMs and the cash registers, and were preparing to leave. Charlie noted with a jolt that Steve had been loading more ammunition into his gun. But now he was frozen, staring out the window, listening.

It was the sound of many sirens, encircling the bank