I don't know anything about how bank security works. I'm going to be honest with you right up front. But that's the beauty of fiction right? I did however do a quick Google search on safety deposit boxes, and I would like my efforts to be noted. I still am not entirely sure how they work either. Don't hold that against me too much.

But look! A quick update! Woo!

Will jumps out of the car, despite Lonny's protests and jogs up beside him, trying the door handle himself.

"Will," Lonny's voice is calm, and Will can feel himself starting to panic, because the door is locked. The door is locked and Mac is inside. She's inside and the door is locked. And there must be reason for that and the reason cannot be good.

"The door is locked," Will says stupidly.

"Let's go back into the car and call the police," Lonny suggests trying to guide Will back to the waiting car.

"Mac's inside," Will says, and he understands that he sounds like an idiot. He knows that on a rational level, but all rational thought has pretty much deserted him, because Mac, his wife, his Mac, is still inside. And the doors are locked. And the blinds are drawn, and fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Will," Lonny says again, and Will finally acquiesces, mostly because his hands are shaking and he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to do.

"Should I call her?" Will asks, climbing into the car and rummaging around for his phone. "I should call her."

"That might not be the best idea, man," Lonny says gently, and Will can suddenly see it playing out in his head. Mac's phone ringing, attention being drawn to her, and he feels like an idiot. Lonny's pulling out his own phone, dialing 911 and Will rests his head back against the seat as he stares at the bank door.

Just open, he thinks. Just please open, and let Mac walk back out. Let Mac walk back out and climb into the car and explain how it was all a misunderstanding, that the doors were locked because of a drill, or a mistake, and let us laugh about it on our way to work.

Lonny hangs up, and moves towards the driver's seat.

"The silent alarm was tripped," Lonny reports, and Will's insides freeze. There's no mistake or misunderstanding. Lonny starts the car, and Will's hand is on the door handle immediately.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Will demands. "We can't leave! We aren't leaving. I'm not leaving with her in there. I don't care if it's not safe! We are not leaving."

"Will," Lonny turns to him, and his voice is firm. "I know you're freaking out right now. You have every right to be. We aren't leaving. But we need to move the car. The police are on their way. We'll come back. I promise. We aren't going to leave until Mac is with us. We just need to move the car." Will quiets down, and lets Lonny move the car from the space in front of the bank and to a side street.

"She has to be okay," Will says, his voice desperate.

"She will be," Lonny says turning off the car and turning to face Will. "We don't know what's going on in there. We don't know anything yet. Let's not panic, okay?"

"She has to be okay," Will repeats, his hands clenching at his sides. "She has to be."

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Just run in and drop off the ring in the safety deposit box. There weren't even too many people in line when Mac walked in. There were only three people ahead of her, but there were also only two tellers working, so Mac pulled out her phone to check for emails and see what the news wires had while she waited.

She was about to shoot off a text to Will telling him she was the next person in line when the men walked in, locking the door behind them and slamming the blinds down. She bit down the panic and silenced her phone and slid it into her bra.

This can't be good, she thought, as the men pulled out guns and demanded that everyone get on the floor. She didn't hesitate; she dropped down and laid flat on her stomach. She tried desperately not to panic. She had been in enough tough situations to know that panicking solved absolutely nothing.

"Phones and wallets over here," one of the men shouted, and Mac slid her purse over, still clutching her family ring in her fist and hoping they didn't discover her phone tucked away. It was a risk, but one she knew she had to take. If there was an opportunity to do so, she wanted to text Will and let him know that she was okay. She could only imagine what would go through his head when he realized what was happening in here.

She began to catalog the details; the analytical part of her brain going into overdrive. There were three men all wearing ski masks. She gave them nicknames in her head, as she rested her cheek on the cold floor. The tall, skinny one she named Lurch; the second, medium build, kept rocking his weight back and forth nervously, and she decided she would call him Sparky. The third was in charge, she could tell by his body language and the way that the other three looked to him before doing anything. All right, Mac thought, and we have the Captain rounding out the trio.

The Captain waved his gun and told everyone to move to the corner. Mac pulled herself up from the floor and followed the few others who had the misfortune of being in the bank to a far wall where Mac slid down and hugged her knees to her chest. She watched as Sparky gathered the wallets and purses and began to rummage through them, tossing the cell phones into a pile. Mac slid the ring that she been clutching in her hand onto her right hand and watched as Sparky picked up her purse and dumped out the contents onto the floor.

"There's no phone in here," he told the Captain. He picked up Mac's work badge and stared at it for a minute. "Which one of you is Mackenzie McHale?" He looked over to the group huddled against the wall and pointed to Mac. "Where's your phone?"

Mac's heart began pounding against her chest. Stay calm, she ordered herself.

"I left it in the car with my husband," she answered, willing her voice to stay even. "I was just running in and I didn't think I'd need it." Sparky cocked his head to the side, and Mac held her breath.

"Hurry it up!" Lurch yelled at the terrified teller trying to open the vault with shaking hands, and Sparky's attention dropped from Mackenzie and he continued his task of gathering wallets. Mac felt shaky from the adrenaline, and shoved her hands under her to keep from fidgeting.

She glanced over and saw that the teller had managed to open the vault, but something was wrong.

"I can't open the boxes," the teller was young, in her twenties if Mac had to hazard a guess, and her voice was shaking. "I have a key and the owners of a box have a key, and we can only open if both keys are present."

"There's only about 20 grand here," Lurch said from where he was shoving the money from the drawers in his bag. "You said there'd be more!"

"Grab it and let's go," the Captain said. Sparky finished grabbing the money out of the wallets and shoved them into another bag, and started towards the front door. Mac closed her eyes. It was almost over. She would be out of there soon.

She would insist that she and Will go back home. Go back home and forget today ever occurred.

Sparky's hand was on the front door when the screech of tires made Mac's eyes pop open.

"Shit," Sparky muttered. "It's the cops."

It had been almost over, Mac thought desperately. It had been so close.