The bell rings as I enter the store. The girl behind the counter is terrified, I can almost feel her fear radiating off of her and past the man with his back to me. I immediately look for the signs. I see her eyes darting left to right trying hard to neither look at me, at the man in front of her or towards the back of the convenient store. The other criminal is there. I can see his reflection in the glass of the beer cooler as he stands perfectly still waiting for his partner to act. His partner, the man at the counter, is standing like a statue slightly to the left of center of the counter. This places the cash register in front of his left hand; his wallet is in his right rear pocket; this makes him right handed. That will be his gun hand of course.
I know it would be a mistake to simply walk back out as these are armatures. They would just start blazing away and in their panic kill the girl. I walk up to the counter giving the girl a reassuring smile. The gunman spins bringing his pistol - a Ruger .380 - up towards my chest. Idiot. He practically hands the gun to me. I check the pistol with my left, jab the inside of his wrist with my right and twist the gun up and away from and an upper cut with the elbow snaps his head back, a strike to the throat with the butt of the Ruger crushes the windpipe and he stumbles back and out of my way.
In the second and a half it takes the other would-be killer to come running from cover I slide the action to chamber a shot and aim. He rounds the corner 20 feet away with a scream and a misplaced shot as if he's a thug from a Tarantino movie. I put four shots into the center of mass just to be sure. His momentum and adrenalin takes him into the candy aisle and he'll be dead before his body stops moving.
The first guy scrambles to his hands and knees his eyes wide with monkey brain terror as I step between him and the camera over the counter. Two shots to the face and he goes down clutching blindly at empty air "Please no..." sputtering from his lips.
The girl is close to going into shock. I need to talk her down before...damn it. The little prick nailed me with that one wild shot. Well, at least this is a convenient segue. "Girl...Megan (according to her name tag), I need you to focus for me!"
I grab wash rag from the espresso counter and press it to the wound. "Young woman, here, hold this right here. You need to keep pressure on - listen to me girl! Focus! Ok, now, I'm going to dial 911 while you keep me from bleeding out."