Okay guys, I just want to say how incredibly sorry I am that I haven't updated for 3 months. I had like 6 weeks of exams, and when I finished I kind of lost my inspiration… also, although I have written up to the second last chapter I didn't realise that I hadn't posted them! I have written the next three chapters, which will come up over the next few days. The final chapter shouldn't be long after that. Finally, I am just so sorry that I haven't updated, and I want to thank everyone that reviewed and read this story. You guys rule!

P.S. Sorry about short chapter. Will post next one tomorrow!

Charlie was rather relieved to get back inside the bank, if truth were told. He had been scared that he would get mistaken for Mitch or Steve, and one of the snipers would take him out. And then, as he had dragged the body out, hundreds of eyes were on him – police, fire fighters, emergency personnel. They had all called out to him, asking him questions, beckoning him towards the safety of the street. But Charlie had felt too disorientated to answer, overwhelmed by the scale of the situation. He had simply stammered that this was a warning, before retreating hastily back towards the (relative) safety of the bank.

Now he was again kneeling by Don, who had descended into some kind of daze. His eyes were open, but he didn't respond to Charlie's voice, didn't react when Charlie touched him gently on the arm. Charlie felt the fear and dread in him start to rise again. He watched Don's chest rise and fall, drawing comfort from its even rhythm.

And then there was the crackling on the phone. It had seemed impossibly loud, but Steve seemed lost in thought. Charlie noticed rather ruefully that his gun was still firmly trained on all the hostages. He bent his head down, whispered into the phone

"This is Charlie. Please, be quiet!"

And then another voice, deep and reassuring, whispered back:

"This is Agent Roddick, the agent in charge. I need your help, Charlie. Can you tell me how many people are in the bank?"

"Thirteen" Charlie responded instantly, he had counted them enough times "plus the two thieves, Steve and Mitch"

"Any surnames for Steve or Mitch?"

"Sorry, no."

"That's fine Charlie. I'm told that you said your brother was an FBI agent, and he was shot. What's his name?"

"Don Eppes." Charlie's voice cracked.

"Not Don!" The voice increased in volume and Charlie nervously smothered it with his jacket.

"Sorry." The voice was hushed again "I'm sorry, Don's a good friend of mine. Um, can you… is… um, is anyone else injured?" Roddick seemed to have lost his train of thought.

"No" Charlie began. But that was as far as he got. Because the next second, a sharp blow caused the side of his head to explode with pain as stars scattered across his vision.