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A bank robbery goes wrong and right.
From the author of the wickedly funny action-thriller, CHOP SUEY, comes a psychological thriller that shows you how bad your day can get, when your perfect plan is perfectly wrong for you and perfectly right for someone else.
For Blade and Angel, everyday is about their next high. Tired of the daily jobs needed to support their habit, Blade hatches a scheme for a bank heist. It's the perfect plan.
Suddenly things go terribly wrong. Their plan crumbles and now they're forced to find a way out of this mess. And if that's not enough, someone in the bank just killed a hostage and it wasn't them.
This psychological thriller is around 6,000 words. That's about twenty-two pages or forty minutes of your lunch break. Enjoy.
“Trust me; it’s the perfect plan,” the young man whispered into his girlfriend’s ear, hoping it was enough to keep her calm. As simple as her part was, he needed her to play it flawlessly.
It was five minutes to closing for the Comerica Bank in downtown Detroit. With its redwood-size columns, the building appeared more like an impenetrable fortress rather than a bank.
This didn’t deter the young couple from slipping between the columns to make it into the bank before the doors were shut. The old bank guard dutifully locked the front doors of the large, two and a half story building behind them. Exit only.
The tellers were working as fast as they could to service their remaining customers before the start of the Fourth of July holiday weekend. The weather forecast for the weekend was sunny and warm. Everyone wanted out.
The couple stood at the end of the line, whispering back and forth while they looked around. The man wore a five o’clock shadow, blue jeans, and a black t-shirt with the word “D-town” on the front. A messenger bag was strapped across his chest. He appeared calm and focused, staring ahead at the tellers. The woman, however, couldn’t stop fidgeting, always looking around and tugging on his arm. Every few seconds the man would lean down and whisper into her ear.
Most of the men in the bank had noticed the girl the minute she walked in. Her outfit was comprised of a black mini-skirt, black heels, a black baby tee, and a cropped silver and black leather jacket. Her hair was short and black, and she wore a plethora of bangles on each arm. But that’s not what caught their eyes.
It was her little porcelain butt, barely hidden by her skirt. It wasn’t typical banking attire but then again, she didn’t have typical banking business to conduct.
Within seconds the couple each pulled out their own handguns––he from his messenger bag, she from her Hello Kitty purse. They were 9-millimeter Glocks with extended clips, a reason to shut the hell up and listen.
The guy, the Robber, was the first to speak. “I want everybody planking on the mother fucking floor!” He then trained his sights on the guard. “Don’t move, Slick, or I’ll waste your black ass right there.” He made his way to the guard and disarmed him. “How we doing babe? You got things covered?”
The girl, the Babe, had her piece trained on the tellers and the customers. “Are you guys deaf? My sweetie said to get the fuck down.” She fired off a round in the air to emphasize her point. “And don’t even think of pushing the button for the silent alarm.”
Every single customer hit the floor. The Babe quickly climbed onto the counter and instructed all the tellers to join their valued customers. The males who were already lying on the floor all glanced up in the same direction. Well worth the risk.
She knew they would look. She didn’t care though.
“Cell phones. I want everyone to take them out and place them in the open,” the Robber barked.
Within seconds smart phones clicked and clacked onto the white marble floors. The Robber walked around and crushed each phone under the heel of his boot. A quick head count matched up with the phones. They had fifteen hostages. Five of them were bank personnel: three tellers, a manager, and the old guard.
The bank customers were a wide sort. There were the construction worker, the pizza delivery dude, the librarian, three businessmen, the professor, the old lady with curlers, the skinny female trainer, and the college student.
“Babe, hold down the fort while I clean out the drawers.”
“Anything for you, sweetie.”
The Robber made his way behind the teller counter and began stuffing cash into his messenger bag.
“Wait, wait, wait…What the fuck?”
“What’s the matter, sweetie?”
“These drawers––they’re almost fucking empty. Where’s the fucking money?” he shouted from behind the counter. “You, bank manager! Where’s the fucking money?”
The frightened man rolled over a bit, his suit jacket an obvious size too small. “It’s the Friday before a long weekend. We got cleaned out. Everyone in here is pulling money out.”
The Robber hurried back around the counter and knelt down next to him. With the barrel of his gun against the man’s head, the Robber said, “That’s bullshit. You’re lying to me, you sweaty pig!”
“I––I swear, it’s the truth. This is very typical before holidays. And––and the safe is already on lockdown. It can’t be opened until Tuesday morning.”
The Robber looked at the pathetic bank manager, unsure whether he was lying or not. Probably not. Between his Chihuahua shaking body and the steady streams of sweat pooling under his triple chin, he seemed believable. But now what? There was maybe $7,500 in the drawers. Not the heist he and the Babe intended. Their perfect plan had a ding.