A.D. and Jade stepped back into the bank, closing the heavy door behind them. The red laser perimeter reactivated with a low hum, sealing the bank once again from the outside world.
Inside the police command center, a call came through.
"Sir, it's him. It's A.D."
A.D.'s voice came through, calm but commanding.
"Now you've seen what I can do. Don't play games with me."
There was a brief pause. Then he continued,
"We need a doctor. Medical equipment. Blood. You have ten minutes."
Second-in-command: "We don't negotiate with terrorists."
Hale turned, furious.
"What the hell are you doing?"
A.D., overhearing the hesitation, acted quickly. He grabbed a hostage, pulled up the man's sleeve, and pressed a knife to his arm. He made a shallow slice—just enough for blood to drip.
The man cried out. Chaos stirred among the hostages.
A.D. to the phone:
"That was a warning."
Hale clenched his jaw.
"Okay! We'll send the doctor. Just stop this. But you need to lower the laser barrier."
A.D.: "When the doctor arrives and everything is ready—I'll drop the wall."
Minutes later, a female doctor arrived under escort. As promised, Chloe Carter disabled the laser perimeter just long enough for the doctor to cross safely. Once inside, the lasers reactivated.
The doctor was escorted straight to Ethan Black, who was unconscious and losing blood. She worked quickly, stabilizing him.
"He'll survive," she announced. "But he's going to need rest."
Then she turned to A.D.
"Now, where's the injured hostage?"
A.D. sat down and rolled up his own sleeve.
"Here."
She was stunned. There was no injured hostage. The bloodied arm had been his own. He had staged it all to manipulate the police into sending help.
As she cleaned and stitched the wound, she noticed something else—seven faded scars running parallel across his forearm.
She paused, heart catching. These weren't recent.
They were old. Deep. And deliberate.
After finishing, she requested to leave. Chloe once again dropped the lasers momentarily, allowing the doctor to step out.
She went straight to Hale.
Hale: "What happened in there? Is everyone alive?"
Doctor: "Yes. He didn't hurt anyone. The wound was on his own arm. He cut himself."
Hale, confused: "What?"
Doctor: "And there's something else. I saw seven deep scars—old ones. I don't know the meaning, but... it didn't look like the first time he's done that."
Troubled, Hale turned to Ray Donovan in the interrogation room.
Hale: "Who is he? Who's inside?"
Ray looked up with a bitter smile.
"You know him. Or you should."
Just then, Angelina Hale, Hale's wife, walked into the room.
Angelina: "What are you talking about?"
Ray: "A year ago... your husband arrested a boy—on the way to the hospital. He broke a signal. He begged to go. Just a few minutes—to pay for his mother's surgery. But Hale didn't listen. He was in a hurry to get to your daughter's birthday."
Ray continued:
"That night, the boy was locked up. And he found a blade. Made seven cuts on his arm—the day his mother was supposed to be saved. But she wasn't. He thought she died. I believed him. I found her. I saved her."
Angelina gasped. Hale turned pale.
Ray: "I deleted all records of him and his mother. I made it look like she died. I took the fall. Got dismissed. And he... he lost everything. But he survived. And now he's fulfilling a promise—to help me disappear. This robbery is my exit. He owes me that."
Hale sank into his chair, overwhelmed with guilt.
Then a thought struck him—his daughter.
Hale: "Does he know Emily is in there?"
Ray chuckled softly.
"No. I didn't tell him she's your daughter. But soon... he'll figure it out."