“I told you not to run. Not once. Not twice. A million times,” Dan said, voice rising. “And what did he do?”
He looked around the storage unit crammed with bodies, sweat and tension. No one spoke. They did not have to.
“He ran,” Dan finished, spitting words like venom.
They all saw it. David, eyes wide, duffle bag thumping against his side, darting into traffic like a deer in headlights. The cop had not even noticed them. He was too busy scrubbing mustard off his uniform. But then David sprinted like he had just robbed a bank, which was precisely what he, and they, had just done.
And suddenly, they were not invisible anymore.
Now, the gang was crammed inside a rusted storage locker just off Highway 1. Cold steel walls. The sour reek of sweat, stress and old engine oil. A single lightbulb flickered above their heads like a failing heartbeat.
No one said a word until Don broke the silence.
“Who invited him?”
The question was gentle, almost curious. Dan felt his stomach tighten.
Dakota, perched on a crate with her arms folded, did not wait.
“More importantly, how much did we lose?”
That hit harder. Everyone’s eyes flickered to Dan.
“All the bags were packed about the same,” he said, tone clipped. “We’re short a few million.”
A beat of silence. Then, Daisy sighed. It was not loud, but it was heavy, like something final.
“I need that money. Every cent.”
“Me too,” said Darian from the shadows. His hoodie was soaked with sweat. His keen bounced like he was holding back an earthquake.
More nods. Silent agreement. Quiet desperation.
Dan looked at them. Not professionals. Not even close. Just people who had been pushed too far, needed too much and saw no other way out.
“I brought David in,” Dan admitted. “Known him my whole life. Or I thought I had.”
His voice cracked slightly. He hated that.
“The David I knew wouldn’t panic. Wouldn’t break a direct order. The David I knew… he’d hold the line.”
Dakota scoffed. “Well, I knew a guy who took my money, married a college sophomore and vanished across the border. People change.”
Darian sat forward, rubbing his temples. “I’m not mad at him. Honestly? I thought about running, too. But I didn’t. Know why? Because I had a panic attack so bad I couldn’t even move.”
No one laughed.
“I get it,” he said. “I do. Doesn’t mean we’re not screwed.”
Dakota did not look at him, but her jaw clenched. Hard.
“I need this to survive,” she said. “I mean it. No money, no second chance. No future.”
“We all need it,” Dan said again, even though it was obvious.
“And now we’ve got nothing,” she said. “Less than nothing.”
“Not nothing,” Don said. “Most of it’s still ours.”
“Which won’t matter if David flips,” Daisy said. “They’ll hunt us and take it all back. All.”
That landed. A sharp collective inhale.
Dan turned toward them.
“So, two options,” he said. Door number one: we cut our losses. Run away with what we’ve got, hide what we can and hope David holds.”
Nobody spoke.
“Or door number two: we break him out and recover the rest.”
A louder silence this time.
“You’re joking,” Don said. “Go after the cops? That’s suicide.”
“I’m not saying we storm a station with guns blazing. But there’s a transfer coming. I’ve seen the protocols. He’ll be moved. That’s when we move.”
Darian sat up straighter. “I’m in.”
“You would be,” Dakota muttered.
“You got a better plan?” he shot back.
“Yes. Cut our losses and survive.”
“Survive?” Darian’s laugh was sharp and humourless. “If I don’t pay off my debt by next week, I’m dead. Door number two’s the only shot I’ve got.”
“Don’t turn this into a sob story,” Dakota said.
“It’s not. It’s math. Behind door number two, I either get the money or I go to jail. Both are better than what’s coming behind door number one.”
“You just want one more roll of the dice,” she said, folding her arms tighter. “Of course, the gambler wants to double down.”
“Easy for you to say, Karen,” he sneered, misnaming her like he always did when they fought. “You’ve got options.”
Dakota stood. “Say that name again.”
Darian stood, too. “Karen.”
She did not flinch, just walked straight toward him, chin high, hands balled.
“Enough!” Dan snapped, stepping between them. “This is already a disaster. If we tear each other apart now, we’re done.”
They did not sit. But they did not move, either.
Don cleared his throat. “We need to decide together. We’re all in this.”
“Yes,” Daisy said quietly. “We’re already in hell. Now we need to escape. And nobody escapes alone.”
That struck something. Slowly, Dakota sat. Darian followed. Then Don. Then Daisy.
All eyes on Dan.
He let the moment stretch, pretending the weight of leadership crushed him. Pretending he had not already decided hours ago.
They needed reasons. He had one. But it was not theirs.
He did not need the money.
Not like they did.
He had savings. Assets. A pension from the bank. A fully paid home in the suburbs. This whole plan had not been about need; it had been about the thrill. About shaking off the dullness of security. About feeling alive.
And now? He felt electric.
“We pulled off a perfect plan,” Dan said. “We aren’t criminals, but we made it work. Almost.”
He looked at each of them again. Darian’s nervous energy. Dakota’s fury in heels. Don, the shadow. Daisy, hardened by necessity.
“And it was idiot-proof,” Dan continued. “But it wasn’t coward-proof.”
He let the word hang.
“No one here is mad at David for being scared,” Darian said. “But scared people talk. And that puts us all in a grave.”
“He’s not built for this,” Daisy added. “Not anymore.”
“You trust him not to talk?” Dan asked.
Silence again.
“No. You don’t.”
He leaned in.
“So we don’t save him to be noble. We save him to save ourselves.”
They nodded, slowly, but they did.
“And if we find the money while we’re at it?” Dan said. “All the better.”
He watched their resistance crumble. One by one.
Then Don looked up, eyes sharp.
“You said there wasn’t a backup plan.”
“There wasn’t.”
“Then how do you know there’s a transfer?”
Dan met his gaze. “I still have access to bank security intel. I’ve got friends who watch police logs. I’ve been paying attention.”
“You’re saying you just came up with all this now?”
Dan did not blink. “I adapt fast.”
Don did not push it. But he did not look convinced, either.
“Good,” Dan thought. “Suspicion kept them sharp. Trust made people stupid.”
“Look, Dan said. “This is the worst spot we’ve been in. And it’s only going to get worse. But if we do this right, we get David, the money and our freedom.”
“And if we don’t?” Dakota asked.
“We burn.”
No one argued.
Dan leaned back. For a second, the stress lifted. He watched them: beaten down, desperate, deadly. He had never felt so alive.
This was not survival.
This was something else.
The adrenaline.
The chaos.
The dance with disaster.
This was the point.
“We move tomorrow,” he said. “Gear up. We hit them in transit. One clean shot. No bodies. No screw-ups.”
Everyone nodded, even Don.
Dan smiled.
The game was back on.
And the thrill was just getting started.