The Hostage人质

Nobody knew what to do at first. Deposit slips fluttered to the floor. A man touched the rim of his baseball cap to make sure it was still there.

一开始没人知道该怎么办。存款单飘落到地上，一个男人摸了摸自己棒球帽的帽檐，确认它还在那儿。

The bank robber seemed just as shocked. There were too many people. He realized that， despite all his preparation， he hadn’t considered the afternoon rush.

银行劫匪似乎同样惊诧。人也太多了。他意识到，尽管自己做足准备，但还是没考虑到午后的高峰期。

“Put your hands up，” he said， and people more or less did that. “You’re all hostages now.”

“把手都举起来。”他说。大家基本都照做了。“你们现在都是人质了。”

“We don’t want to be hostages，” someone said.

“我们不想当人质。”有人说。

“That’s not how this works，” the bank robber said. “I come in， you all become hostages， I get some money and leave， and then you’re free again.”

“这事儿可由不得你。”劫匪说，“我一进来，你们就都变成人质了，我拿了钱走人，你们就又自由了。”

“We’re afraid，” someone else said.

“我们害怕。”另一个人说。

The bank robber got it—he was also afraid.

劫匪心里懂——他也害怕。

A bank teller waved her hand， which was still raised above her head. “I’ll be the hostage，” she said.

一位银行柜员挥了挥举在头顶的手。“让我当人质吧。”她说。

“You are already one of many hostages，” the bank robber said.

“你已经是众多人质之一了。”劫匪说。

“Then everyone can go and sit in the old vault，” she said. “There’s no way to call for help in there， and it has a heavy iron door. That means fewer people to mess things up. And I can access everything up front.”

“那就让所有人都到旧金库里待着去。”她说，“那里面没法求救，还有个沉重的铁门。这样一来就没几个人能添乱了。前台的所有东西我都能拿到。”

It was a good plan and made the bank robber feel less like he had screwed up by coming in during the rush. “You’re sure there are no alert switches or emergency phones in there？”

这是个好主意，也让劫匪觉得自己选在高峰期行动也不太至于搞砸一切。“你确定那里面没有报警器或者紧急电话吗？”

“It’s a hundred years old，” she said. “You couldn’t get a call out of there if you tried.”

“那地方有好些年头了。”她说，“就算你想打电话，里面也拨不出去。”

The hostages all turned to see what he would say. He shifted his gun from one hand to the other.

人质们都转头看他会怎么说。他把枪从一只手换到另一只手上。

“Fine，” he said.

“行吧。”他说。

They all went to the old vault and the hostages filed in silently. There was plenty of room for them to sit or stand; they would be comfortable there. The teller turned an iron wheel to lock them in. “All right，” she said. “Let’s get to work.”

众人都去了旧金库，人质们安静地鱼贯而入。里面有足够的空间供他们或站或坐，人人都呆得舒坦。柜员转动铁转盘，把众人锁在里面。“好了。”她说，“开始做事吧。”

She opened every teller station using keys on a ring she kept at her waist. He watched her stack the money in a duffel bag1， one of two he had brought for the purpose. He was grateful for her knowledge and assistance， if a little unsettled that she was offering it all so freely.

她用腰间钥匙环上的钥匙，打开所有出纳柜台。他看着她把钱码放进一个圆筒包里——那是他带来的两个包之一。他感激柜员的熟练与协助，不过也因为她如此痛快地主动帮忙而略感不安。

“You’re not putting a dye pack2 in there， are you？” he asked.

“你该不会往里面放染料包吧？”他问。

The woman turned to look at him， and he was surprised to see that his question seemed to have wounded her. “I would never，” she said. “What would make you say that？”

女人转头看向他，他惊讶地发现这个问题似乎伤了她的心。“我绝对不会。”她说，“你怎么会这么说？”

“I’m sorry.” He tried to think about what would make him say it; he had seen a dye pack in a movie once and knew that it could explode and make a terrible mess. There was a lot that he didn’t know about robbing banks， and every moment was another opportunity to reveal his ignorance.

“对不起。”他试图思考是什么让自己说出这种话来。他曾在一部电影里见过染料包，知道它会爆炸，弄个一塌糊涂。关于抢银行，他不知道的东西太多了，每时每刻都有可能暴露自己的无知。

She seemed to sense his hesitation and plucked a pen from one of the teller stations， rolling it across the counter toward him. “Why don’t you go sit down over there and draft a taunting letter to the police，” she said. She pointed to the mortgage officers’ desks， which ringed3 the lobby.

她似乎发觉了他的犹豫，并从柜台上抽出一支笔，沿着台面上滚给他。“要不你去那边坐下来，拟封信嘲讽警察吧。”她说着，指了指大厅外围的按揭专员办公桌。

He pulled back the leather chair behind one of the desks and sat. It felt funny to be behind a desk， dressed as he was in black fatigues4. The bank robber couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat behind any desk， and he’d certainly never been near one this nice. He stared at the empty page. Writing had never interested him in school; though he knew he had something to say， it gave him an uneasy feeling. He put his gun in the outgoing-mail tray and dumped a box of paper clips onto the desk.

他拉开其中一张桌子后的皮椅，坐了下来。像他这么穿着黑色作战服坐在办公桌后，感觉挺滑稽的。劫匪记不得他上次坐在办公桌后是什么时候了，而且像这样好的桌子，他肯定碰都没碰过。他盯着空白的纸张。在学校时他就从未对写作有过兴趣；尽管他知道自己想说点什么，但这会让他感到不安。他把枪放进盛着待发信件的托盘里，把一盒回形针倒在了办公桌上。

The woman noticed him stringing paper clips together. “You could start with， ‘Fuck you， pigs， dumb motherfuckers，’” she said. “Or， if you want it to be more personal， you could try， like， ‘I’m the motherfucking heist5 king and you know it.’ It depends on the tone you want.”

女人注意到他在把回形针串成串。“你可以这么开头，‘去死吧，猪猡们，蠢货王八蛋。’”她说，“或者，你要是想更个人化点，可以试试‘我是他妈的抢王之王，你们都知道’。这取决于你想用什么语气。”

“Motherfucking heist king，” he repeated， writing it down.

“他妈的抢王之王。”他重复了一遍，写了下来。

“You’re welcome.”

“不用客气。”

“Yes，” he said， a little annoyed. “Thank you.”

“好吧。”他有点不耐烦地说，“谢了。”

He printed “Motherfucking Heist King” at the top of the page， then wrote it again and again， trying out different handwriting styles and lining the paper with a chain-link pattern. “Motherfucking Heist King”—it really was a nice phrase. Maybe if he could make a design with it， they would get the point of what he was trying to say. What was he trying to say， anyway？ He realized that he hadn’t actually considered writing a letter until it was suggested to him.