1. Fate


    Date: 9/11/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: SITTING, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    Harry sat behind the wheel, alert and ready. There was no fear anymore. Fear had long known not to inconvenience him. There was a thrill in the wait, in the certainty that soon they would hit the bank and make off with enough money to secure tomorrow’s headlines. He hardly heard the talk of the others. Sean. Taller than the rest of them, skinny but strong. Carlo. Stocky, violent temper. Lucas. Blonde, calm, laidback. Face on. Gun hidden. Ordinary citizen. Across the street, a gleaming car was parked in front of the city’s second largest bank. Cadillac. He could practically smell the clean inside, the fresh paint. Someone rich. Filthy rich. The kind of person he loved to take money off. “Time,” Sean said and as one they exited the car. Harry had a Colt at his belt hidden beneath his coat and the other three had Tommy guns; heavy and inaccurate but good enough to scare the bank tellers into submission. Quick and fast. Harry knew the drill; he’d performed it to perfection and run through it in his head an infinite number of times. Scare them. Make them move before they think. Panic obedience . They walked in through the glass doors and nobody batted an eyelid. The fat manager smiled at Harry like he thought the handsome young man could be a new valuable customer. So far so good. The long overcoats were serving a dual purpose; making the gang look like gentlemen whilst simultaneously hiding the guns. Sean and Lucas headed over to the tellers’ cages. Carlo had stopped just inside ...
    the door. He withdrew his gun just as the manager approached Harry. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m-” “Nobody move!” Carlo yelled, holding his gun up just as Sean and Lucas produced theirs. People turned and froze. Carlo had always loved this part. A born entertainer. Harry almost smiled. “Nobody is leaving until we’re done!” Carlo yelled, “All of you hold your hands up! If you don’t have your goddamn hands where I can see ‘em, don’t blame me when they get blown off!” Harry grabbed the manager by the upper arm. With his free hand, he wedged the Colt into the back of his fat neck and hustled him over to the vault. “Open up,” The clock was ticking. The manager was nervous, fumbling with the dial but he opened it soon enough and Harry pulled the bag from beneath his clothes and heaped money in. So much. Too much. Somebody had triggered an alarm and the sound made him work faster, more methodically. Stacks of bills were transferred sleekly into his bag. His heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing. The sweet, gutting thrill. Carlo was still intimidating the customers. Sean and Lucas were emptying the tellers’ drawers. Faster, faster, faster . Harry checked his watch. The alarm was making him nervous. The cops would arrive soon but he knew their response times were nothing to be envied. When his bag was full, he heaved it onto his shoulder and walked out of the vault. Through the glass doors, he saw a police car screech up. He swore under his breath. How the hell had they arrived so fast? ...
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