::X-Men:: In The Claws Of An Angel ::Wolverine::

Chapter Five.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. Everyone in the restaurant stared with eyes as wide as their dinner plates at the three gunmen.

In the back, I could hear waitresses and kitchen staff screaming, and the sound of pots and pans clattering onto the floor. More men's voices could be heard shouting orders for them to be quiet... There must have been gunmen storming in through the back, too.

"I said, ON. THE. GROUND." The man pointing his gun toward all the diners screamed, tightening his grip on the red haired hostess, "NOW!"

An eldery woman at the table across from ours whimpered tearfully as she and her feeble husband hobbled to the floor.

I glanced at Logan, who looked consumed in his thoughts, a slight scowl twisting his facial features. He nodded at me to get on the floor, and my heart sank a little. My body felt so robotic as I climbed out of the booth and lowered myself to the ground.

We were then ordered to crawl to the back of the restaurant as the leader's two henchmen pulled heavy duty chains and padlocks from a duffel bag they had lugged inside, looping them through the handles of the door. It was a short crawl, and as Logan and I put our backs against the wall, I got a good look at all of our fellow victims.

There was the old couple that seemed to be struggling to move across the cheap, scratchy carpet, the family that had passed our booth earlier that consisted of a Hispanic woman, her husband, and three little boys, a man looking somewhere around Logan's age dressed in business attire, and the staff of the restaurant; Mark, two other waitresses about my age, the cooks, and their supervisor: A potbellied man with glasses and a bald spot right ontop of his head.

The two other armed men emerged from the back, joining the three that had burst through the front. All of them looked almost identical, dressed in the exact same clothes and skii masks. Their builds were a bit different, though, and so were their muffled voices.

"The kitchen's cleared out. Tommy's workin' on the fuse box." The man on the far right informed the leader in a New York accent.

The leader nodded and wrapped his arm tightly around the hostess's neck.

He shoved the barrel of his gun under her chin, causing her to wail out in terror.

"Alright," The man began to speak again, his voice deep and dark, "Nobody speak, nobody move, unless I tell you to. I'm not scared to shoot any one of you."

While he spoke, another gunman went down the line of us, collecting wallets and cell phones. He snatched the black books from Mark and the two waitresses, snagging their tip money along with their personal cash. When he got to us, he shoved his hand into Logan's face, and he ground his teeth as he handed over his wallet.

I gaped at Logan as I watched him just give in to these evil men... I knew he could slice them to bits. But as I looked into his eyes, I could see that he was holding back in fear for everyone else in the room. He could only get through so many of the gunmen before one of them fired, potentially taking the life of one of these innocent people.

Through his eyes, I could see the gears in his brain turning, a plan brewing deep within his mind.

"Cough up the cash, sweetheart." The masked man's disgusting, raspy voice came from above me, and I turned to see his hand out in front of me.

I gulped and looked up into his face. I could only see his eyes, which were an olive green color. The whites were tinted pink, looking bloodshot and intoxicated. He wiggled his fingers expectantly, forcing me to have to speak.

"I-I... I don't..." I stammered, my eyes dancing around to avoid his, "I don't have any money..."

He lowered his hand and tilted his head to the side, looking from my face to Logan's.