Siren's have never meant anything good. A natural catalyst to disaster. But there's no calm before this storm and Dylan is raring to go. There's nothing left for him to do but chew on the facts. They're running out of time, this banks full of fucking idiots, and out of all the jobs they've ever completed he thinks that this one will wind up in the hall of fame for being the worst.
Fuck, at least he'll have the image of the teller's brains splattered across the room in his mind at the end of it. Blonde stained red - a damn good look on her. There's nothing like watching some bitch get her dues. He'll have to thank Volkov for shutting her up later, he doesn't think he could have handled another second of her fucking endless whining.
The pigs are just beyond the secure doors of the bank and even with guns trained on them and every harsh word he can think of spitting like acid rain from his lips the crowd wavers in their resolve to keep quiet. Their voices unnerve him, he's never enjoyed hearing someone talk before they die. Makes em too fucking human. Makes him remember how fucked up his internal wiring is to feel this way about other people.
They need to start getting their shit together, get the fuck out of the bank before a real shoot out is underway. The cops won't wait forever, soon enough they'll start pushing in on them. Good samaritan shit, the kind of baseless justice that makes Dylan sneer beneath his mask as they start edging toward to door.
At least Ashley has Lucia, they won't have to worry about anyone getting brave. Not when they've been clearly transparent with their willingness to kill.
But this jobs a fucking shitshow already and something has to go wrong. Before he can even figure out what the hells happening his brothers on the ground with some fucker pointing his own gun at him.
Red bleeds across his vision in the seconds before the pistol in his hand connects with the idiot's temple. Hard enough that the impact of it cracks audibly. There's a streak of blood on the butt of his gun afterward. He isn't down yet, though. Fights back, throwing wild punches that have no coordination. It's obvious that the hit to the head has him dizzy. Probably knocked a few loose screws out of place.
"Fucking stay down," Dylan's hissing between his teeth, bared beneath the mask. Unfortunate that the man doesn't get to see the exact expression of murderous intent that he's making. Mores the pity. Dylan lands a hit across the face, other hand reaching out to take the empty gun from the fuckers hand.
He's going to give Ashley so much shit later for not loading his gun. Even if it's the only thing that saved him - a fact that's boiling his blood.
With the idiot down on the ground and effectively out of his sight, the need to break every bone in his fucking body dissipates only long enough to be replaced by another type of anger altogether. All that's left is Ash - and, if he's being honest with himself Lucia.
(Even without being the biggest fans of one another he won't pretend that she isn't valuable.)
He can't finish the guy off himself, not while he's got this fluttering of panic lodged in his chest. Doesn't want to take his eyes of Ashley for longer than necessary, and unfortunately, evisceration takes more attention than he's willing to part with. But throws a look to Volkov, motions 'he's all yours' and takes some small feeling of satisfaction out of knowing the guys going to feel what its like to die in agony.
"Goddamnit." Dylan stands over him, watches Lucia play her part too goddamn well by pretending to crawl away while the big bad robbers are distracted. He has to give it to her, the girls got a real knack for this shit. Maybe he's a little too rough when he pulls her back by the arm, she'll have a line of bruises where his hands fit around her bicep later, and he isn't all that remorseful about it knowing that she's more than likely getting off to it internally - something that simultaneously impresses and annoys Dylan.
He turns and helps Ashley up after he's gotten Lucia in check and shoves her back into his brother's arms. She's his responsibility to handle, Dylan needs his hands-free in case someone else decides to get brave in the time between now and then. But with the demonstration Volkov puts on he doubts anyone will have the balls.
He keeps his own gun up to discourage the cops from making a stupid move. They look all too willing now to bust in the doors and start in. Cut the casualties before the entire place becomes a blood bath. Dylan ain't going to stick around long enough for that, and he isn't going to let Ashley stand by either. Motions towards the exit wildly. 'We need to get the fuck out' Words unspoken but clear in posture.
Bambi better be ready to burn rubber when they get out there. He's damn ready to be home, maybe throw a few punches