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| The Job http://www.wotg.stgfc.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=116 |
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| Author: | BOS13 [ 31 Aug 2005 14:21 ] |
| Post subject: | The Job |
I saw that stuff here didn't even have to be fallout, so I'll post this, a short story I had to do in English last year. THE JOB They strode into the bank with the cocksure walk of men who didn’t know the meaning of failure, strangers to defeat. The instant he saw the four men the tellers knew that it had hit the fan. They leveled their guns at the crowd and tellers and in a booming voice that echoed off the walls one of them shouted, “Nobody move! Everyone against that wall!” “Great orders dumbass”, another robber remarked. “Hey, fuck you.” When the hostages had gathered against the wall, the gunmen ordered them down. Two of the men stayed to keep the hostages in line while the other two went into the east wing, towards the vault. Thom Nast turned to his partner and said, “This is gonna be easier than St. Louis. These people didn’t even try for the alarm.” As if on cue, a shrill alarm rang throughout the bank. “I told you not to fucking move!” Steve yelled at the guard. The shout was followed instantly by the staccato rat-a-tat of an assault rifle firing. The guard jerked and fell, blood slowly pooling on the marble floor. He yelled to his partners down the hall, “We’ve got five minutes max now, get a move on!” “Hey, I don’t tell you how to keep hostages in line,” Thom shouted back, “but maybe I need to if you let them get to the alarm. He turned to his fellow safecracker and said, “Okay, it doesn’t look like there’s any more guards, I think I can handle it from here.” Paul turned and jogged back to the main hall, leaving Thom alone with his “tools” and the safe. “This is the NYPD! Lay down your weapons and come out with your hands up!” They heard the voice of the negotiator over a megaphone, nearly drowned out by the screaming crescendo of the sirens. Steve responded by firing a long burst into the nearest police car. Down the hall a dull thump signaled the breach of the safe. Not long after Thom walked into the hall, three duffel bags of cash suspended from his arms. “Well, I’ve finished packing, when can we go?” “We’ve got company now,” Steve said, pointing out the windows to the police in position around the building, “it would be rude to leave.” Down the road they saw a black BMW, their getaway car, speeding down the street, just as it was supposed to. The driver was obviously surprised to see the police there. The car slowed slightly, then accelerated. Officers began firing towards the vehicle, and the BMW swerved as the driver was hit. The car careened into the gas station two buildings down from the bank. The fireball engulfed the two police cars blocking the road, their exploding gas tanks added to the conflagration. Two officers emerged from the blaze, completely covered in flames. They ran about frantically until they fell to the street, where they didn’t get up. “Well, there goes our ride.” “It won’t be long now, everyone get behind the counter.” Thom said, utilizing a skill he had learned a long time ago in the Army, combat command. No sooner had the last of the robbers gotten behind the counter than the doors of the bank blew in. Explosives set by the NYPD SWAT team propelled the heavy wooden portals eight feet into the bank. Fifteen SWAT members stormed into the breach. The lead officers staggered as if they had run into a wall. Their Kevlar vests, meant to stop low caliber rounds, were no match against the depleted uranium bullets the robbers were firing. One after another the men of the SWAT team fell to the floor motionless. The robbers advanced, firing all the way. They kept up the fusillade until they had passed through the space the doors once occupied and were out on the street. The four men were alone in the street, all the police around them on the ground, dead or dying. Only the hissing of the rain and the cracking of the fire disturbed the silence. Nast went back into the bank and grabbed the bags of cash and began loading them into the trunk of the Mercedes they had parked down the street, just in case. The men ripped off their ski masks and piled in. The car drove off into the night, the hellish inferno burning behind them. As always, they got away, the winners. In more than a dozen cities they had pulled off successful jobs just like this one. The confidence with which they strode into every bank was well earned. |
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