“ I repeat again, come out with your hands behind your head or we’ll be forced to use lethal force -,” The sound of a gunshot erupting made Omar drop the radio. Sucking in a breathe, he grasped his pistol firmly with both hands and ran towards the front of the gas station. He didn’t know who fired the first shot but he wasn’t keen with leaving Mira alone in there by herself. His boots splashed apart the rivers of rainwater that were beginning to inundate the streets, soaking the scuffs of his woolen jeans. 

Once he was at the door, he could hear muffled sounds of commotion. With one hand still on the grip of pistol, the door opened with a quiet whine. Omar pushed it enough just so the edge of the door touched the lip of the bell. Immediately, Omar could hear someone shouting in a coarse, uneven voice. Male. Probably in his late 20s or early 30s. He took a peek through the crack and briefly saw a broad shouldered figure in a hoodie waving a pump-action shotgun around. 

“Not a chance!,” The man spoke out. “ You make one more move towards me and I’ll paint his fucking brains all over the counter, you hear me?!”

“ Please, sir….,” A heavily lisped voice whimpered out loud. “ I’m willing to help you with your situation but you have to believe-” 

There was a cry of pain and then, the sound of a shell being re-racked into a shotgun. “ You shut up if you know what’s good for you, old man.” 

Alright. That was enough. The sound of lightning split the sky above and Omar used the opportunity to push open the door quietly as to not spook the robber. He didn’t want to have to fill in on the incident report about how the owner was missing half his head. The robber was still looking in the direction of wherever Mira was and didn’t notice Omar’s pistol pointed a few meters away from his head. 

“ Hands on your head right now!” The robber turned his head towards Omar in surprise. This close, he could see the straw blonde hair poking out of his hood. A cherokee blue bandana was wrapped around his mouth. Freckles dotted the underside of his shadowed grey eyes. “ Put the shotgun on the counter slowly and step away from the hostage. You’re surrounded.”

The robber shifted and bounced on his feet. His movements reminded Omar when he watched mice struggle to escape the mouse traps his mom had laid around the house. “ You’ll have to do something for me first.” 

Shit. Now wasn’t a good time for negotiations. He barely passed that course when the NJPD made it mandatory. Omar signed inwardly, still putting on the face of consummate professionalism as his finger rested on the trigger. 

“ Put your shotgun down on the table and we can talk.” 

“ You’ll just cuff me, man.”  The robber scoffed, still pointing his shotgun down at the man below him. “ You’ll listen to what I have to say and then, we’ll talk.”

Omar’s fingers danced on the pistol grip, contemplating the actions he could take. The man was on edge, on the verge of breaking. Even if he’d managed to shoot him, a mis-fire from the shotgun could still happen. Talking him seemed like the best distraction for Mira to catch the robber off guard.

“ Alright. Start talking,” Omar nodded. The robber rolled his shoulders, lowering the shotgun slightly away from the shopkeeper, before speaking.

“ My little bro….” The robber’s voice trailed off. “ He’s now sick with the same bug that’s been passing around. I can’t afford a check up at the ER for her. I need him to be checked up at the doc right now.”

 “You can’t cover it under insurance?” 

The robber shook his head in frustration and shakily replied back. 

“ I can’t afford insurance, asshole,”  The robber choked back a swear. A pang of sympathy ran through Omar’s heart as he momentarily lowered his pistol before raising it back up. His parents would’ve never forgiven him if he’d failed to take care of Omid and he sure as hell didn’t want to know how he would be able to handle facing the loss of his brother. 

“ How old’s your brother?,  Omar said softly. 

“ 7,” The robber gulped guiltily, eyes shifting towards the left of the store where another door was located. “ I brought him with me. He’s holed up in the staff room on his DS. Your partner can go over there to verify and check it out for you.” 

“ You heard all that, Mira?” Omar asked out loud, pistol still trained on the man’s head. “ I’ll keep point. You can check it to see if his story matches up.”