The DA's Daughter

Chapter One

"Sorry but I'm not sure I heard you right. Did you say rob a bank?" The man speaking leaned forward in his seat, placing his forearms on his knees, watching the other man curiously.

"Yes. Rob a bank." Spoke another man, sitting behind a large, mahogany desk. He was clearly the one that made the request in the first place.

"That's a little beneath our usual business, isn't it?" Asked a third man who was standing closer to the door. The guy behind the desk chuckled lightly and nodded his head.

"Yeah, it usually is but it's not the money we are after. There is information being held there that is detrimental to the release of my father, your boss." That information got nods from the other two men. An understanding was met at that point.

"Now that, sounds more like a job for us."

"I agree."

"Take a few of the new recruits, disposable ones of course, and get it done quickly. Make a scene if necessary. They need to know that just because he's currently behind bars, Malcolm Garcia still runs this city." The man's voice sounded vindictive and confident. There was a chorus of deep laughter before a phone rang, interrupting their charade. The two men were dismissed and headed out to do what was requested of them.

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Across the city, a young brunette woman was stuck in traffic. "This is exactly why I hate driving in here!" She muttered under her breath, turning up her stereo to drown out the orchestra of car horns being blared outside the confines of her own vehicle. 'Happy' by Pharrell, filled her ears and instantly a smile graced her face. Nothing beat a perfectly timed tune to change a mood. She ignored the odd looks she got as she sang along, out of tune, and danced in her seat.

After what felt like eternity of idling, the traffic finally began to move and she was able to get on her way. Swiftly, she claimed a parking space near the bank. Other drivers were not as thrilled as her regarding the discovery of the space because she was blocking a lane as she parallel parked her way in. Her inexperience with the activity very evident. Stepping out of the now parked car, she hurried into the bank. The door was held open by a patron leaving, a quick thank you and smile was exchanged with him as she disappeared inside. The contrast of atmosphere was mind blowing. Inside was cool, quiet and far more relaxed from the bustle of the streets.

"Good morning Juliet." Greeted an older, female teller.

"Is it even still morning?" She teased as she pulled a wallet from her large purse. "I feel like I'm ready for bed already and it was just from driving here."

"Friday morning traffic is always the worst." Replied the teller. "Father still giving you cheques?" She asked.

"Yes. I've been trying to convince that direct deposit is the way of the future but he insists that it would be better this way. I think he just likes to watch me suffer to get out here." She explained, presenting said cheque and her bank card.

"Maybe he hopes you'll stop by for a visit?" Suggested the teller with a shrug as she plugged in the necessary information.

"Probably but he should realize that I have a class in a little over an hour that I will more than likely be late for, despite leaving an hour and a half early this morning. It's not like I don't see him or mom at all. I only stay on campus during the week and return home on weekends. "

"Any other banking?"

"Ahh, I'll take eighty dollars, Sandra." Decided the brunette, noticing her wallet only had a few coins rolling around. As the transaction occurred and she placed the wallet back in her purse, she was about to say goodbye but her attention was drawn to the shrieks that came from the front of the bank. Four heavily armed men, dressed in dark clothing and the stereotypical ski masks, were waving their guns around and yelling for everyone to hit the ground.

Nobody objected to the orders, it seemed nobody really wanted to risk their heads being blown off. Not that she could argue, she very much enjoyed her head where it was. Laying on the floor, she glanced around the room and saw the fear that was written on everybody's faces. Her own was probably wearing the same scared and worried expression. The worse was the woman next to her. She appeared older than her and was staring directly at the bathroom across the way. Juliet shook her head at the lady, hoping she wasn't planning on making some break for the area. The lady simply shook her head and mouthed 'my son'. Taking a deep breath, Juliet closed her eyes and gave her a weak smile. Maybe the boy would stay in there after hearing what was going on outside.

"Stop! Hand's up!" Yelled a couple security guards who came from out back. The leader of the group turned to face both men and shot them both without much of a hesitation. More screams erupted as the bodies hit the ground, blood spreading across the marble floor from their bodies. Now she seriously hoped that the boy would stay in the bathroom, just for their own safety.

"All of you... Out front, on the ground." Ordered the shooter to the tellers behind the counter. Another man started searching the offices, pulling out anyone inside and throwing them into the main area. "You guys, keep watch! Anyone makes a move, kill 'em!" He ordered before taking the manager of the bank into the back area, being followed by another one of the men.

Nobody moved, spoke or even made a sound while the other two just paced the room, stepping over people. It felt like eternity and the silence was deafening. Of course, that was when the boy decided to come out of the bathroom. How did he not hear the gunshots or screams? He looked about seven years old and started crying the moment one of the men pointed his gun in his face. His mother started to stir, whimpering herself. Knowing she may regret this later, Juliet pushed herself to her knees.

"Leave him alone!" She shouted, glancing over at his mother who was shocked to see someone standing up for her child. "His mother is right here, just let him go to her." She said, pointing to her mother. The man was not pleased with the outburst and you could see that he was thinking about shooting the kid out of spite. Luckily, he never. Instead, grabbing the crying child by the shoulder of his shirt and dragging him to his mother, shoving him down with her. He turned back to Juliet and pointed his gun directly in her face and she closed her eyes, bracing for herself for the shot. It didn't come though. The two men had returned from out back and started barking at them to grab someone and go. They needed hostages to complete their transaction.

The gun was lowered from Juliet's face and a hand grabbed her hair, roughly pulling her to her feet. There was a disgusting glint in the man's eye when he looked down at her before pulling her along outside. Besides Juliet, Sandra was taken, along with the bank manager and a security guard who had surrendered his weapon after watching two of his friends be shot point blank. The loud noises outside the bank seemed to be a little duller than usual, probably due to the sound of her heart now beating viciously in her ears, blocking out everything. Everything but the sound of police sirens in the distance, but there was no way that they would make it to the bank in time.

Parked on the curb was a large black van, no windows except the ones necessary for driving and a large decal on the side saying something about plumbing. The sidewalk was eerily empty as a struggle between the leader of the group and the manager broke out. Somehow, the manager had gotten himself free and had bolted down the sidewalk but only made it about twenty feet before receiving three shots to the back and falling forward on the concrete. The man turned back to all of us, waving his weapon back and forth amongst us.

"Anyone else feel like causing trouble?" He bellowed. Nobody made a sound and with a satisfied grunt, he opened the van's side door and everyone was thrown inside and shoved to the very back. It was the first time Juliet's eyes met with Sandra's and they just kind of stared at each other for a moment before they began to be bound up. Their arms were taped up behind their backs, ankles taped together and a nice thick piece across the mouth to prevent any chatter. Someone had to have seen something, heard something. It was impossible for this to go unnoticed in a city this busy at this time of day.