The entire scenery showed how dire the situation got. With what just happened, we’ll soon have armored vans at the main entrance, guns pointing, waiting to have at it. There was a body on the floor, drenched in its own blood. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a man in a hazmat suit struggling for breath as he gurgled on his blood, with all effort to cling unto life. Several of what seemed to be the man’s colleagues, standing at gun point, all wore hazmat suits with less distorted identical faces exactly like ours. The newly uninvited guests were the people we were supposedly impersonating. The other team were supposed to handle the situation, they were supposed to stop them from ever making it to the bank. Seemed like they lacked in delivering. It’s not been up to 5 minutes and the plan was already blowing over. Nothing I wouldn’t be surprised of, you place several punks together to perform an organized heist, what do you expect?
The supposedly original plumbers all stood frightened with both hands up, still standing at gun point.
“What the hell happened?” I inquired from No.1 who still seemed to be in shock.
“Lock all the doors, all the windows, everything, lock it all.” He yelled back, sweat displaying all over his face, his pistol shaking uncontrollably. I immediately understood what he was saying, he wanted the entire bank on a total lock down. I immediately accessed the bank’s external security system, shutting down all the bank’s servers that transmitted the security camera’s feed directly to CLAW’s main server. I activated a signal jammer, so there were no incoming or outgoing calls. I didn’t think it would matter anymore. I was pretty sure several other sensors were triggered when there was a gun shot, and CLAW wasn’t an organization to waste any more time, they’ll soon be here, maybe the cops will later on follow. Putting the place in total lock down would merely buy us some time, the only options left was to either run, or finish the job.
Of course, no one made any attempts to run for it, it was basically suicidal. The bombs in our chests were meant to trigger the moment we went too far from No.1, at least that's what Montero said. I’m not sure how it works, but I wasn’t curious enough to find that out. It was a choice of death, whatever option we picked still echoed the same ending. Hacking the bank’s main security vault was the option we had. It was one terrible odd against a more terrible odd. No.1 paced around a bit, checking his watch, as if expecting to find his answers there.
“Ok, we continue with the plan.” No.1 instructed suddenly, doing his best to maintain composure. “No.3 and 4 will go crack the safe, while No.6 and 5 will head towards the roof, they’ll alert us of any incoming”
“Wha’ about us?” No.5 asked. “What are we supposed to do?”
“We wait down here, crowd control.” No.1 responds. “We’ll also be welcoming any unwanted guests, just in case.”
“Hold on there, mate.” No.5 said adjusting his stance, sounding slightly aggressive than usual. “So, you’re saying that while we wait here, front line, the others will be having fun catching a view and breaking in where the cash is?”
No.1, for a while, shook his head as he approached towards No.5, merely inches away from each other’s digital faces.
“Let's get one thing straight.” No.1 said sternly. “For one, I am not your mate. Second, you fucking do as I tell you to without questioning or else I…”
Before No.1 could complete his statement, there was a loud thudding sound of a gun's butt ramming into someone’s jaw followed by a small crack sound. No.1 dropped to the floor unconscious, his visor glitching.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” No.4 yelled from behind pointing his gun at No.5, No.5 turned and did the same.
“Oh, you shouldn’t do that mate.” Said No.5, while wearing a mischievous grin at the edge if his lips. He pulled back the safety switch, his index finger gradually pressing on the trigger.
“Ok, that’s enough.” Yelled No.7, trying to intervene. Then a loud bang echoed through the hall once more. It all happened so fast. It was within a plank of a second, brain matter splattered all over the shiny white-tilled floor. No.7 dropped to the ground, lifeless.
“What the fuck, man?” I yelled, both hands behind my head in distress. No.5 immediately pointed the gun towards me. No.4 stood still, his gun still pointing at No.5, not shooting or making any form of action. He just froze there. I stood still, trying as much as I could not shit myself; there was enough shit the bank could handle at this point, I wouldn't like to add to it.
“Shhh” he crossed his finger over his lips. “Fatty’s got a loud mouth don’t ya think? I wouldn’t want to see that beautiful Jacking brain of yours all over the floor now, would I?”
“If you won’t shoot him, I will.” No.9 stepped forward pointing at No.5, but then No.5 reacted just in time to point at No.1, still unconscious.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Oh, easy there lad. You know what happens if I shoot him, right?” No.5 asked in a raspy voice.
“Well, that means you’ll be dead too, deep shit.” No.9 replied.
“Ah,” responded No.5. “I don’t mind dying mate. In fact, us dying all comes down to what happens next. You pull that trigger and his head gets lead. Then all of you, he said pointing his gun at the hostages all crouched on the floor.
“There’s no way you’ll be able to make it out of here alive.” Said No.2.
“Nah mate, I think I’ll live.” No.5 responded, wearing a smug smile on his face. Then there was a sudden shuffle beneath where No 5 stood.
“Nah, I don’t think you will, mate.” No.1 spoke, his gun beneath No.5's jaw. We were caught off guard by No.1 regaining consciousness. He must have been awake the whole time, pretending, no one knew for sure what exactly was going on at this point. No.1 had his gun pressed beneath No.5’s chin.
“Oh fu..” No.5 never got to finish his statement before the trigger went off. His body fell lifeless on the ground, red mist lingered for a brief while before dispersing. No.1 got to his feet a bit dazed, feeling his jaw and wiping off the brain matter that sticked on his glitching hazmat visor. His display visor seemed to flicker from time to time, there was a small crack from where No.5 hit him.
“Fucking douche bag.” Said No.1. “Almost knocked my teeth out.”
No.1 checked his wrist. He looks up at everyone and then looked down again. We were all frozen at a spot, no one was shocked or bothered by No.5 biting a bullet, on the contrary we were all glad. He was a wild card, right from the beginning no one liked him. The guy killed one of his team mates without any hesitation, he could turn on anyone again.
No.1 sighed and paced around for a bit, then looked at the hostages all on their knees, some, with their hands clasped together praying. Others just sat, staring, the others, the guys in the yellow hazmat still at gun point.
“This complicates things a bit,” No.1 said, pointing at the bodies then at the Bank's staffs. He looks at his watch again, then approached me. “The security alarms, they were triggered right?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I couldn’t disable it completely, cause if I did then…”
“I know,” he raises his hand stopping me from explaining further. “I guess we’ll just have to go with plan-B then.”
“Plan B?” No.4 inquired. “What’s plan-B?”
He approaches me again, this time pulling me aside.
“How long is it gonna take you to crack the safe?” He whispered quietly.
“Am not sure,” I responded hesitantly. “But probably 30 minutes.”
“Ok,” he nods his head reassuringly, as if finding reason to be hopeful again. “30 minutes should be enough.”
“Although,” I added, scratching the back of my head. “I’ll have to be completely jacked in.”
“I don’t understand. You mean like a dive log?” No.1 asked.
“Yeah.” I replied.
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Well, I’ll have to take off the visor.” I replied.
He kept still for a while, considering the risks involved in this. It would be deadly revealing my identity to the others. This entire heist was supposed to keep us anonymous to each other, but for one to make use of a jack box, I’ll have to take off the hazmat hood.
“Alright, everyone, take of the hazmat suit.” No.1 ordered.
“What?” No.6 asked.
“No questions, just do what i tell you to do.”
The others stared at each other, not sure on what exactly to do. No.1 unzips his suit and takes it off. The entire scene went from intense to absolute chaotic confusion— No.1 was a lady, a quite tall lady.
“Everyone, take off your masks.” No.1 ordered again a bit sternly. No one made a move to obey, our jaws were all over the floor in surprise.
“Take the fucking mask off!”She yelled once more, this time, able to shake off the flabbergasted look we all had on our faces.
“What about the hostages?” No.6 asked, “They’ll see our faces.”
“Yeah?” No.1 responded. “Well, your face should be the last thing you should be worrying about right now.”
“Look, I'm not gonna put my safety in no bitch’s hands.” No.6 responded with a sneer.
“In case you forgot,” No.1 responds heading towards No.6.
“This bitch already has your life in her hands.”
“Nah, not you. You don’t have the controls.” Said No.6 confronting No.1. “Last I checked, Don Montero’s got the controls, not you.”
“You really wanna test that theory?” No.1 responded in an intimidating tone tapping at some buttons on her watch. The atmosphere once again grew tense everyone adjusted their stance, others swallowed harder than they could. From the way I was looking at it, no one was left with the choice of complying, or not. If what Montero said was true, and if she really was his right-hand man, then she served as a representative to Don Montero and I was sure to assume that Don Montero would certainly give her the bomb implant controls.