Authors: TJ Moore
Wiping a layer of rain from his mask, Max cocked his gun.
He shot out the security camera hanging just above the back door. Tonight, Max wished he had the ability to see through walls. Max knew things changed since their last attempt, and although he was given new codes and information, he did not know what other obstacles they would encounter.
Another five seconds passed before Max spotted the other camera. Shooting it down, he motioned the crew to advance. He knew entering through the back door would be the simplest part of their mission. Max typed in the twelve-digit code with his gloved fingers from memory: 3984-6453-7356.
He’d done this countless times in the practice room, but this was only the second time he’d done it for real.
Jeff, Steve, and Sarah were close behind.
Max crouched and pushed the door in. They needed to get to the security room to disable the rest of the cameras. He knew another camera pointed directly towards the inside of this entryway.
Still squatting low, Max shot out the inside camera and slinked into the hallway as his crew kept only inches behind him.
When they rounded the corner, Jeff pepper-sprayed the first guard just outside the security room. The guard clutched his eyes and fell to the floor screaming. Jeff flipped the guard onto his back and tied the strong plastic cuff bands around his hands.
Max was already a step ahead.
He typed in the code for entry. 7555-3434.
He kept low and flicked off the lights in the security room. Only lights from the monitors lit the cramped space as Max stood and kicked the watch guard in the right shoulder from behind, then swiftly in the left kidney. The watch guard tensed up and clunked his head on a monitor when he stood up too fast, knocking himself out. Max applauded the man’s form.
“You read my mind,” he said as he flicked on the lights. “How convenient.”
Jeff tied the second guard’s hands and pushed him underneath the desk. The guard answered the abuse with slobbery snarls and threats.
“What are you going to do? Punch me?” Max patted the guard on his bald head. “I don’t think so. Jeff…”
Opening the guard’s mouth, Jeff inserted a gag and plastic tied the man’s feet.
Max cracked his neck and raised the guard’s swivel chair. “I’ve got it from here, guys. Keep going. I’ll meet up with you in a second.”
His crew stayed against the wall as they moved further down the hallway to the right. Sarah mastered this skill from her many hours playing hide and go seek. This was no different if she decided to treat it like a game. To her, the bank felt different at night. It felt electrified with mystery. After they got further in, Sarah imagined the money falling down from the ceiling, flipping and gliding like green feathers.
With a little technical guidance via walkie-talkie from Stan, Max successfully disabled all of the cameras in the bank. And this time, with the additional passcodes, he turned off the motion sensor system in the hallway leading to the vault.
While Max typed in codes, the watch guard inched his way closer to Max’s rolling chair. The guard’s overweight stomach made an abdominal crunch difficult, but he strained forward, flexing his legs upward. He aimed for the emergency button below the table.
Reaching, stretching, bending, flexing…one more flex.
Bingo.
The room came alive with flashing lights and ear-piercing alarms that pinged into Max’s brain like little nails.
Ping! Ping! Eee-Naw! EEE-NAW!! PING!! PING!!
Max’s furious fingers twisted into themselves as he reflexed to cover his ears. He got an instant headache.
Max tried to keep covering his left ear with his left hand, and he pressed his right ear into his right shoulder hoping it would work as a temporary earplug. This freed his right hand to feel under the table. He was feeling for a wire.
When he found it, Max tried to sever the connection.
It was too late. The police were on their way.
Now, Max knew the crew only had a matter of minutes, and they were already in deep.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Ping! Ping! Eee-Naw! EEE-NAW!! PING!! PING!!
Max needed to get the team to the money.
And fast.
He violently spun the swivel chair, and the centrifugal force sent it crashing to the ground as he jolted into the hallway, running ahead of the crew.
“Move! Now! Follow me!”
They tackled one more guard before taking a hard left and reaching the hallway that lead to the vault elevator.
“We have less than five minutes to get to the vault,” Max breathlessly reminded the team. “Once we’re down there, we have a bit of extra time before the police catch up with us, but we can’t corner ourselves.”
All Steve could think about was how fast Sarah could run. She was keeping up with the group, almost leading them. This girl could book it, and Steve was already out of breath by the time they reached the elevator.
Max frantically entered the code as the alarms continued to blare.
Eee-Naw! Eee-Naw!
Stop it. Think. Focus.
3895837…Enter.
No. No. No.
2987893…Enter.
The pings of the alarms pulsed within Max’s brain.
His skull ached.
The simulation alarms in the practice room weren’t nearly this loud, and worse yet, Max had severe DejaVu from the last heist attempt since this is only as far as they’d made it before bailing.
Shit.
They had no excuses this time. Max knew The Leader was watching
.
Hell, the entire compound was watching
.
He slapped his face with his gloved palms.
Focus, dammit! This is your time to shine.
2987890…Enter. Yes!
No. No. No. No.
The elevator door did not open
.
What the…
Max kicked the door and the metal door kicked back, sending a twisted vibration up his leg.
Eee-Naw! Eee-Naw
!
Dammit.
“Jeff, crow bar!” Max slammed the door twice with his palm and stepped back.
Jeff inserted the tool, pulling and heaving his weight, levering the crow bar with all his might.
Yank. Crunch. Yank. Pull.
Repeat.
Max’s eyes grew wider with every attempt. He felt physical pain as he witnessed them failing for the second time. Max yelled to Stan through the walkie-talkie. “Isn’t there a way you can shut off these damn alarms?!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Stan answered.
Cameron rubbed his forehea
d
with his hand feeling a fresh layer of sweat push through his skin.
My daughter is about to be arrested.
A bit of an irrational thought, but he couldn’t help it. Surely the police would understand, but still. He hated seeing the green and grainy images of his daughter participating in such misguided greed.
Max checked his watch.
They already wasted eighty seconds trying to pry the elevator door open, and the crow bar was hardly making a difference.
“Plan B. We’re taking the stairs.”
“Great,” Steve whined.
Max led the crew back down the hallway, around the corner, and into the security room again where the hog-tied guard had inched his way into the middle of the room. The guard snarled as Jeff rolled him back under the table.
Max got his bearings again. He keyed-in 5776 into a locked cabinet opposite the blackened security monitors. He flung open the metal doors, which led to a sealed off janitorial room - just like the blueprints had shown.
The crew passed shelves of cleaning supplies and humming equipment. The piping above them reminded Jeff of the tunnel pipes at the compound.
They passed several more appliances including an industrial vacuum and a floor buffer before finally seeing a chrome ladder leading down. The ladder was securely fasted to the concrete wall. The descending view was well lit with energy efficient light bulbs.
Max and Jeff began their descent, and Steve pushed Sarah forward with his long, bony leg. His knee bumped Sarah in the back of the head, and she clomped to the rungs of the ladder.
Steve was relieved they weren’t going up because he was deathly afraid of heights…anything but heights. He wasn’t afraid of falling. He was afraid of his bones shattering like glass when his body met the earth; and since his bones made up roughly fifty percent of his slender figure, he wanted to keep them nice and un-shattered.
As she climbed down and down, Sarah’s blonde hair kept blocking her vision. She paused on a middle rung and tried to tuck it behind her ear, but Steve’s feet above her were moving fast. She’d continued down just by feeling the rhythm of the rungs as they passed.
With only six rungs left until the bottom floor, the alarms stammered, stuttered, and then ceased entirely.
Hallelujah.
Max brought the walkie-talkie to his lips. “Stan, you’re a genius. “Feet reaching the floor, Max dry-swallowed and clapped his hands together rapidly. “Let’s go-go-go-go-gooooo! Come on! You want to spend the night behind bars?”
The crew also planted their feet in steady succession, following Max down the subterranean hallway below the hall in which they’d just damaged the elevator.
Panic set in again.
The hallway looked nothing like the replica anymore.
Three separate layers of bulletproof glass separated them from the door to the vault. And, between each layer of glass, two sets of red motion-censored lasers scanned and beamed across the floor and ceiling leaving very little crawling room. Even an advanced dancer would have had trouble evading the beams.
These weren’t the changes they had anticipated. Max told himself to forget about the replica and just deal with the hall in front of him. Practice could only serve them so long. He considered it strange that he’d been given so many codes to memorize...about three extra codes than he expected.
He turned the camera on his head towards the rest of the crew. “You seeing what I’m seeing?” He walked in a figure eight. “Sonofabitch.”
“Calm down,” Stan’s voice crackled from the walkie-talkie. “We can’t prepare for everything.”
“Oh, that’s easy for you to say as you sip a latte in the nice warm truck. Great, Stan.”
“What are a few more digits?”
Max punched in what he thought was the correct code.
3009588874…Nothing.
Wait.
2399985748…Shit.
All of the numbers were scrambled in his head.
“Stan, I’m having trouble remembering...”
“You’re just stressed out, that’s all. Take a deep breath.”
Max ignored Stan and tried again.
8776498736
…
Hmmm.
“What now, Stan?”
“You want me to come in there, I will.”
“No, Stan. I don’t. I’m the only one with the codes.”
“Well, that was stupid.”
Max checked his watch. “I know. I know. We’re screwed, okay?”
“I will drop this latte right now if that’s what it takes.”
“No, Stan. Stay. By the time you get your fat ass in here, the cops will already have us in cuffs.”
“Well,” Stan sighed trying to control his temper. “Figure something out, Max. You’re our guy on this thing.”
“Great advice, Stan. Just great!”
“Don’t you have a whole bag of supplies? Think, MacGyver.”
Max stepped forward.
Two sets of retractable tiles pulled into the walls and ejected two steel barrels just opposite of each other. Max’s reflexes warned him in the nick of time, and he dropped to the floor just as the two barrels sprayed vicious flames over his head, burning the top of his ski mask.
“Whoa
!
Okay. Okay
.
Stop!” Max stood up cautiously and jumped four times when two more steel barrels flipped out of the lower panels of the walls and sprayed similar streams of vibrant orange.
Max lunged back to where the crew was standing, catching his breath and feeling the top of his head.
“Hey Dallas, I know you’re watching this right now.” Max waved his hand in front of the night vision camera. “Just wanted to say…what the hell, man? Did you want us to get caught?”
He felt the top of his head again. The portion where the ski mask had burned through left his spiky hair jutting out the top, but it was less spiky in this area. The blast of fire singed it.
“Dallas, listen. I’m going to have a bald spot for the rest of my life! What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You can’t blame Dallas for this, Max,” Stan said.
“Sure I can.”
“You have two minutes before the police arrive.”