The lobby went silent again.
Then, the sound of boots. Five men stepped out of the shadows, their masks all different, their guns raised. Each one carried an assault rifle, the kind that sprayed lead without thinking.
Vanessa's eyes flicked across them. Five.
She did the math in her head immediately. They'd already taken down three. That made eight. And the police report had said ten in total. Which should have left only two more.
But behind those five, more voices echoed deeper in the bank. Metal clanging. Boots shuffling.
Her jaw clenched. The intel was off.
Dickson raised his hands slowly. "Wait. Hold on." He counted them on his fingers like a kid failing math class. Then he looked at Vanessa. "Didn't the police say there were ten of these assholes?"
"Yeah." Her voice was low, flat.
Dickson squinted. "Three down already. That should mean seven left. Not five here plus whatever the hell that noise is inside."
