I grabbed Marcus’ shirt and laughed him up to face me.
“Hold it together” I whispered in to his ear and then threw him
down.
“What are you looking at?” I shouted at the bank manager, “Get in there with the rest of the hostages!”
I was pissed. There was more than twenty cops outside, and my partner was having a freaking emotional breakdown.
I needed to think. Marcus was right, the most possible outcome was death or getting jailed. but thats what I wanted. I called the bank, I called the police. I warned them we were coming. I want to die. But not pitifully. I want to go out, guns blazing, bullets ripping my weak human body. I had a calling. The bank robbery wasn’t my idea it was Marcus’, but it was a way for me to fullfill my calling. It was what Allah would want.
Jump into death fearlessly, kill some Americans on the way, and you get your seventy-two virgins in heaven. That sounds easy enough.