jaydennscott
Active member
Chapter 1 – First Contact
The flickering street light cast an eerie glow upon the paved road. A swarm of moths fluttered around the glowing plastic atop the rusting pole.
Hasty footsteps broke the silence. Louder, louder… A figure emerged into the gloomy light, striding purposefully across the street. He grinned as he spied his destination.
The ROYAL Bank of England
The letters were etched into the age-old stone building. The bank itself stood tall and mighty, its ancient stone pillars out of place aside the modern brick shops.
The man continued his journey. He stepped confidently, his attitude serving in the absence of the height he lacked. Three empty canvas bags bounced on his sides as he walked.
He reached the entrance. If he was intimidated by the towering stone pillars and overpowering architecture, he didn’t show it. If anything, it only increased his brazenness. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small ring of keys. His gloved hands muffled the mettalic rattle of the keys banging together.
He selected a key without hesitation and pushed it into the door’s keyhole. With an insistent push, the door flew inwards. There were no alarms shrieking into the night. Not tonight. He had arranged for that.
His hands reached towards his belt, feeling for the heavy weight of the flashlight. With the soft click of the button, a sudden brilliance illuminated the hall.
The bank’s interior was somehow more regal and magnificent than its outer appearance. It had… grandeur. Rows upon rows of desks extended across a great hall. The polished white tiles squeaked upon the intruder’s footsteps, his body and face reflected in them. It was a hall fit for a monarch.
The man turned to his right and continued walking, as though he had rehearsed this hundreds of times before. The luminosity of his powerful torch showed him to a second doorway. It was effectively a hunk of steel, but the man didn’t falter. Again he reached for his ring of keys, and again the door hinged open obediently.
This is what he had come for.
Before him lay row upon row of doors, each labeled a number with a bronze plaque.
Grinning behind his plastic mask, he pushed the first door on his left open.Unlike the other two, this one wasn’t locked. Like the lack of alarms, this was also pre-arranged.
He wasted no time. Piles upon piles of British notes were stacked up on a table before him like a steaming three-course meal. Piles upon piles of British notes found a new home in this man’s bag. Stuffing what must have been hundreds of thousands of dollars into his bag, into his possession, felt so… satisfying. It was such a reward for only a few days’ planning.
By the time the bank had opened for trading the next day, no traces had been left. As always, the thief left no evidence that a person had even been in the building. Except for the noticeable fact that the British government had lost over four million dollars in a single night.
If you would like to read the full story please go here (
Hasty footsteps broke the silence. Louder, louder… A figure emerged into the gloomy light, striding purposefully across the street. He grinned as he spied his destination.
The ROYAL Bank of England
The letters were etched into the age-old stone building. The bank itself stood tall and mighty, its ancient stone pillars out of place aside the modern brick shops.
The man continued his journey. He stepped confidently, his attitude serving in the absence of the height he lacked. Three empty canvas bags bounced on his sides as he walked.
He reached the entrance. If he was intimidated by the towering stone pillars and overpowering architecture, he didn’t show it. If anything, it only increased his brazenness. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small ring of keys. His gloved hands muffled the mettalic rattle of the keys banging together.
He selected a key without hesitation and pushed it into the door’s keyhole. With an insistent push, the door flew inwards. There were no alarms shrieking into the night. Not tonight. He had arranged for that.
His hands reached towards his belt, feeling for the heavy weight of the flashlight. With the soft click of the button, a sudden brilliance illuminated the hall.
The bank’s interior was somehow more regal and magnificent than its outer appearance. It had… grandeur. Rows upon rows of desks extended across a great hall. The polished white tiles squeaked upon the intruder’s footsteps, his body and face reflected in them. It was a hall fit for a monarch.
The man turned to his right and continued walking, as though he had rehearsed this hundreds of times before. The luminosity of his powerful torch showed him to a second doorway. It was effectively a hunk of steel, but the man didn’t falter. Again he reached for his ring of keys, and again the door hinged open obediently.
This is what he had come for.
Before him lay row upon row of doors, each labeled a number with a bronze plaque.
Grinning behind his plastic mask, he pushed the first door on his left open.Unlike the other two, this one wasn’t locked. Like the lack of alarms, this was also pre-arranged.
He wasted no time. Piles upon piles of British notes were stacked up on a table before him like a steaming three-course meal. Piles upon piles of British notes found a new home in this man’s bag. Stuffing what must have been hundreds of thousands of dollars into his bag, into his possession, felt so… satisfying. It was such a reward for only a few days’ planning.
By the time the bank had opened for trading the next day, no traces had been left. As always, the thief left no evidence that a person had even been in the building. Except for the noticeable fact that the British government had lost over four million dollars in a single night.
You must be registered for see links
)
Last edited:
