CHAPTER EIGHT

Sirens wailed all around Martin. His heart pounded as Danny turned into the bank's parking lot. There were two cars there already. One car carried Vivian and Elena while the other carried Jack and another agent on another team. All four agents were tucked behind their opened doors; their guns were trained on something towards the bank.

Martin followed their gaze. What he saw horrified him. His heart stuck in his throat as he watched Samantha and David. David had grabbed Samantha by the throat with his right forearm. With his left hand he held a gun to her head. Samantha looked drained of everything. Scratches and bruises covered her body with an unusual number. Her cheek housed a deep cut with dried blood outlining her face. Her eyes were red with exhaustion. Behind the blood, Martin could see that her face had lost all color: It was pale. He noticed that her left arm was swollen to an abnormal size. It was black and blue in color, and it looked like she had trouble moving it.

He captured Samantha's eyes with his own. He could see the trepidation that she radiated through her eyes. It was a silent plea, one that Martin couldn't ignore.

Martin's heart called out for Samantha. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her that she was safe, but he couldn't. It pained him to see Samantha in that much pain. The thought loomed in his mind that with one swift movement of David's finger, Samantha, his Samantha, would be dead.

As soon as Danny parked, Martin jumped from the car. He started to run to Samantha; however, Danny appeared by his side and held him back.

"Martin, don't," he said. He looked straight into Martin's eyes. "Let's do our job and get her out the right way."

Martin reluctantly listened to Danny. After glancing at Samantha he turned around and drew his gun. With sadness in his eyes, Martin took cover behind the door and fixed his gun on David while looking at Samantha.

"I'll kill her!" David shouted. "I swear to god; I will!" David pressed the gun harder into Samantha's head. He squeezed Samantha's neck harder to pull her closer.

Martin could see the distress on Samantha's face. And to him, it looked as if her breathing was uneasy too. David was terrified; Martin could tell. He could also tell that he looked like he would do anything to elude the police and the FBI.

Martin gripped the gun so tight that his knuckles turned white. He began to step in place. He bounced his arms up and down itching to shoot David.

Jack's face was tense. "You don't want to shoot her, David. You're not a killer," Jack called. "Let her go, and we can talk about this."

"I'm warning you!" he shouted. He pressed the gun deeper into to Samantha's head. His arm became tighter around her neck.

Martin could tell that Samantha was having a hard time breathing based on her panting. She brought her hands to grasp at David's arm around her throat. However her pained expression gave her away when she immediately dropped her left arm; it dangled by her side.

"Okay, okay," Jack shouted. "What do you want?"

"I want to walk free!"

"I can't do that," Jack shouted back.

"Then she's dead!" David shouted. His grip around the trigger tightened.

Martin tore his gaze away from Samantha. He looked to his team mates whose faces were distorted into worry.

Suddenly, a gunshot burned through Martin's ears. His heart skipped a beat as he turned his head to David and Samantha. David still had his arm wrapped around Samantha's throat, making it impossible to see who was shot. They were both lying on the ground with blood on them. Martin felt like his legs were going to give out any second. He reached for his chest and stumbled backwards. Neither of them was moving. When he finally swallowed what happened, he sprinted to Samantha. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he had to know. "Sam!" he screamed. His throat was dry, and it burned.

Agents had begun to slowly stalk to the pair; their guns were trained on David.

It felt like slow motion to Martin. He couldn't tell who was shot. It was torture, the worst kind.

Finally, Martin reached the pair. "Sam?" he said softly as he knelt down beside her. He placed a hand on Samantha's back. He kept his gaze on Samantha, neither of them moving.

And finally, finally he knew the answer to his burning question.

XxX

I know this one is short, but I couldn't help myself with this cliffhanger. Evil isn't it? I have to get some reviews for this chapter before I update.

Is Samantha dead or alive? Find out in chapter nine.