Long before he left Tennessee, on the seemingly endless drive through interstate, Jason decided to take a break, get off the bike, grab a bite to eat, stretch his legs... only to realize that he would look fairly awkward doing everything in his helmet, and that that description the cops gave might even include his cowboy hat. A quick stop-over at a costume shop left Jason with some... not exactly realistic, but not that terrible... masks.. and a few minutes of work with a knife and a wig allowed him to look... well. Anyone who looked at his face would assume he'd gotten a really bad plastic surgery job so long as the tape held, and if they didn't look close, he'd be okay.
And so, he settled in to eat at a truck stop just outside Jackson, calmly chatting with a waitress and enjoying some of the worst steak he'd ever had; but damn if it didn't feel good to just relax and eat after driving a motorcycle for eight hours straight. Even better, while his face had attracted a few odd looks, nobody had seemed to care; he seemed less like a freak and more just, well. Ugly.
The waitress; pretending to flirt and be nice in the way they so often did; faked an interest in his journey; or at least, thats what Jason assumed. When he mentioned he was planning to visit vegas, hit a few casinos now that he was back in the states, she brought up that as soon as he crossed state lines he could find casinos, even as close as Memphis; which Jason had not even realized crossed through into multiple states. Leaving a nice tip for the young lady, he snapped a battery in his first burner phone, googled casinos in Memphis; and headed off for the South Memphis Casino and Hotel.
***
The sun had gone down by the time he reached the casino; and the casino itself wasn't quite what he expected. Used to the images of tall, towering structures with glitzy lights, the more subdued building; only maybe two floors tall, with a fancy enough sign and a strip of rainbow-colored lights across the front, it honestly looked almost like someone had put a fancy facade on a wal-mart.
Walking into the building, the guards at the door waved him right by; each of them had a body-camera on, which recorded the faces of those who entered. The asked one man to take off his sunglasses; what lunatic wears those at night anyway; just so they could get his face on camera.
His mask seemingly worked just well enough to avoid that; was it good enough to avoid having the cops show up in ten minutes? He absently walked over to a slot machine, feeding in a 20, and surveyed the room. Actual physical roulette and craps tables. Blackjack tables, poker tables... and of course digital versions in rows not that far from the slots.
Some metas could cheat digital systems; so of course none of it gave out cash, and if you were someone who could cheat, well. Best get out fast; someone in security would probably be watching everyone suspicious.
He decided the best way to start out would be simple, direct. Play a few hands of black-jack, then move on to craps... see which ones his powers could work on, and then try to win just enough to come out well, without drawing too much attention.
Buying five hundred worth of chips, he headed over to the blackjack table; the bearded, older man dealing gave a smile and nod as he dealt out to the two older ladies currently whispering and muttering to each other as they played; mostly speaking in gestures and waving cards rather than speaking to him.
He focused after the dealer laid out the cards, before he was dealt in. All he had to do was imagine... and there. The dealer had a ten, showing a seven. The two old ladies.. a queen and an ace. A five and a nine. If he snagged the top of the deck... six. Five. Three.
This was perfect. Giving a low grin to the dealer, smug and confident, he laid down his first hundred-dollar chip; and started betting.
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***
After about fifteen minutes, he was elated. Confident. Nobody seemed to be watching him, security-wise, and he was up by about five grand. Plenty for one night. If he hit a dozen casinos in vegas.. hell, just hit all of them, the place must have tons... then he could party there for a week, get out, and have enough to fund his retirement plans without ever having to do anything.. obviously... criminal. And hell, the casinos cheated folks every day; didn't seem like much of a moral dilemma.
Heading back to cash in an arm-load of chips, he stopped to play the slots one last time... and of course, dropped himself down another 20. At the front counter, turning in his chips, he smiled expansively at the woman behind the desk; a cute red-head name Selene wearing a ridiculous uniform with a checkered vest over her button-up shirt. "I'd like to go ahead and cash in my chips please. I think I'll be getting a room for the night, maybe playing a bit more before I head out."
The woman smiled at him, nodded, loading the chips into a machine, which totaled them up as she fed them inside... and looked behind Jason. Jason could see the hand take his shoulder from behind before he felt it.. and decided to just let it land, to avoid giving away just what he could do.
The man behind him was... over seven feet tall. Massive. Powerful. Had an oddly smooth, stone-like face; not a bit of facial hair; practically a living, breathing, statue of polished stone. "Hello there, sir. Before you collect your winnings, my boss would like to have a word with you."
Jason glanced back at the girl. The drawer was locked, the chips away... she hadn't even started top pull the cash out. And likely wouldn't. They decided something was going on while he was out on the floor, and just waited for him to come collect. Nice and easy.
"And what if I'd like to just get a room for the night, collect my winnings, and chat with your boss in the morning?"
The woman behind him spoke up. "We're legally allowed to request... and verify.. and ID before letting you leave with the winnings."
The stone man gave a low chuckle. "If you really want to stay the night, the boss will let you... but he'll be running a check on you before letting you go in the morning. Your behavior today was... suspicious. And while we have no proof you were cheating, we're perfectly within our rights to verify you before handing over anything.. and pass your information along so that other casinos can keep an eye on you."
Jason looked him over for a moment. He could blind the man, rob the place, and go. Or he could try out a different mask... maybe get someone a bit more artisticly inclined to work on it.
"Before you try anything stupid.. I am completely bulletproof. Those little tenners are a nice new upgrade on the old fashioneds, I use one myself... but you might as well be slapping me with a wet noodle."
No. Not worth it. "I think... I'm going to just leave the chips here and go. This amount of cash isn't really worth my time... or antagonizing your boss."
He turns, starting to walk away from the counter. At first, the big man is a bit surprised; but then he starts to follow; surprisingly quiet for such a massive, heavy figure.
"That verifying part isn't optional. One way or another.." A hand reaches for his shoulder again.
He was actually surprised by how quickly he was able to move. Jason saw the hand coming.. and before he'd even completed the stretch, that simple 10-mm pistol was leveled on the man's right eye. The man blinked, and backed up a step.. the pistol remaining dead center on his pupil.
"Those eyes look pretty fleshy. And while I don't want to antagonize your boss, you don't want to antagonize me either; Would be interesting to see if it blinds you or kills you. So lets just agree to disagree and forget we ever met, yes?"
The man remained in place; clearly shaking with anger, as Jason backed away... and then sprinted out the door for his bike. He'd parked outside of camera range, and the casino wasn't exactly surrounded by tons of populated places... but still. He might have just burned this new bike; and would certainly need something better to cover his face.
And, well. If this pathetic casino in Memphis was onto him so easily, and for so little money... hitting up Vegas was a lost cause. Which left quite a few less options.
So... bank robbery. One bank robbery, and he could be done. None of this petty store stuff. He needed to plan it out, get in, get out, and get gone.
As he rode off into the distance, he glanced back at the casino. Well, damn. If only it had worked, it would've been so much better a solution. Sure, a bank would be insured, nobody would really get hurt. But he'd have to pull a gun, maybe hurt somebody. Not exactly ideal, but... well. Needs must as the devil drives.
So how would he decide just which bank to rob...