Today was just another typical day. It was as ordinary as they came. The street was quiet during the early afternoon, none of the business workers in the surrounding offices were on their lunch break yet. A few people were lined up in the bank to get money. There was an elderly woman up at the teller's desk. A young man holding onto a chubby toddler's hand was next in line. Off in the corner, a middle aged couple sat at a desk probably applying for a loan. Outside, there was a young woman using the ATM. All of her blonde hair was tucked under a baseball cap with the brim pulled low over her eyes. She shot a furtive glance over her shoulder, making sure that no one was behind her.

After entering her PIN number, the screen of the ATM started to glitch. "Oh, come on. Seriously?" She said. Whacking it a few times did absolutely nothing. She even tried kicking the machine, but the screen just went black. "Shit." She adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder and marches inside to find someone to talk to. There was no way a machine was taking her money.

Walking in she screamed, "Everyone down on the ground now! No one make a move an no one gets hurt!" Screams filled the air as the blonde marched further into the bank. Most people dropped to the ground, or ran to cower in a corner. In the few seconds it had taken the young woman to enter the bank, she had pulled a black mask up over her nose, hiding the rest of her features, and taken the gun out of the waistband of her pants. "Don't hit that emergency button, or I'm killing everyone in here!" She warned, aiming the gun at the teller. Motioning for her to step out from behind the counter, the visibly shaking employee moved slowly with her hands up. The robber grabbed her hands and twisted them behind her back. She pressed the barrel of the gun against her head. "Call your manager over here and let's visit the vault."

The robber backed up slowly, keeping the woman held tight despite her shaking and whimpering. A man from behind the desk got up slowly. "Don't hurt her."

The masked woman pressed the gun harder against the woman's skull. "I won't have to hurt her if you hurry up!"

That convinced him to move faster. As they made their way to the back where the vault was, she watched as the manager punched in the necessary codes to have it opened. She released the teller and pushed her into the vault. She quickly took the bag off her shoulder and threw it into the vault with them. "Both of you, fill it up, now! And if you do anything funny, neither one of you will walk out of here alive." With tears streaming down their faces, they started filling the bag with cash while the robber kept her gun trained on them.

Throughout the bank, the woman's screaming alerted everyone to her presence. Bookkeepers, people on break, and even a technician who was hard at work re-booting the security system for the night. The panic that polluted the front lobby quickly spread throughout the building, but out of all the staff, one man was unaffected. It wasn't bravery or anything heroic like that. He was just the type to work with his headphones cranked to maximum at the risk of losing his job. An intern with little to no interest and saving face, condemned to mountains of paperwork on a daily basis. By the time the woman was at the safe, he was casually strolling through the halls while his wireless earbuds pumped out over 150 decibels of techno music.

He didn't spot the gun in the robber's hand when they crossed paths. The man had his eyes half closed and bobbed his head to the beat with a stack of papers in his hands. When he noticed the black mask though, his stroll slowed to a stop, and he started backing away quietly until he was behind the nearest corner. Maybe she hadn't noticed him. Maybe the rustling of his papers were overshadowed by the rustling of the banknotes. Maybe everything could still be cool.

"Of all the rotten..."

Of course it wouldn't be cool. This was a disaster. Two o'clock, only four more hours before the bank would close for the night. Just four more hours of this humiliating gruntwork, and everything would have been fine. The security system would be easy picking with what he lifted from the technician, everyone else would have gone home for the night, and the safe would have been left totally unguarded. But no. Nothing was ever that easy. Instead a quiet job, everything was bound to go to shit, all because some amateur was eager to get the attention of every cop in the city.

The man knelt down and placed his documents on the floor. She had her right hand pointed forward. Probably a gun. Worst case scenario, something even more dangerous. He wasn't equipped for this sort of asinine contingency. Who the hell could prepare for the one-in-a-million chance that some other asshole would decide to rob your mark on the same day?

Without the tools necessary, the man knelt in place and racked his brain for an answer - any answer at all - for this terribly backwards afternoon.

The duffel bag was filling up quickly. It was almost rhythmic. For every sob the bank teller let out, a muffled thump of money landing in her bag would sound. "Come on, faster!" She said, keeping her gun trained on the pair of employees. She knew she didn't have much time left. The people who were coming to the bank for regular usages had either dialed 911 or ran into the street screaming by now. It was a matter of minutes before cops descended on her. It was a good thing she had a distraction primed and ready to go.

When the bag seemed full enough that it wouldn't weigh her down, the robber demanded they zip it shut. "Now slide it across the floor back over to me." The blonde could hear sirens in the distance. Right on time. Bending down to sling the bag over her shoulder, she grinned behind her mask. "Pleasure doing business with you." With that, she shut the vault and spun the lock with the two employees still inside. She took off running around the corner and almost tripped over another person. What the fuck? Why was somebody waiting back here? She balanced herself again and kept running with only one more glance over her shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn't point the cops in her direction.

Slipping out the side door of the bank, she pulled out her phone and speed dialed a number. A few seconds later, there was a loud rumble on the opposite side of the building. The screams confirmed everything for her. The debit card she had used at the ATM was really a virus that changed the functions of the machine. Now, all the money stored there was rapidly ejecting out onto the street. People couldn't help themselves when free money was involved.

Samantha ditched her gun in the gutter, and dropped her mask back down around her neck. Pulling the hat off her head, she tucked the brim into her back pocket as she kept walking. Her shoulder length blonde hair came tumbling out. All she had left to do was get to the subway and she was home free.

Left in the dust thinking over an impossible situation. Yeah, this was a Monday, alright. The man tipped over and slid over his neatly piled stack of papers, stopping himself hard on one hand. There she went, and with her, his payout. Was this seriously happening?

So many of his jobs went off without a hitch. He was sure that the cops had never even heard of him. For this to be how he fails after weeks of prep work? No way. He's just have to track her down. It couldn't be that hard to find somebody so high profile. He pulled out his phone, cracked into a private network, and made his way towards the back entrance of the bank. It would take a while, but this wasn't the last she'd seen of Leopold Diola.

At least, it wouldn't have been, if he could manage to tap into the security cameras before the system was reset...



The streets were packed with the usual afternoon crowd, from civilians going about their daily routine, to street performers and tech demos looking to catch eyes. Samantha passed several police cars on her way to the subway, but not a single one paid her a passing glance as she made her way through the crowd. Motion-sensitive street cameras whirred throughout the crowd at random, but unless somebody was actively trying to pick her out, they were about as useful as a 1990's CCTV system. It seemed like she'd gotten away with it, but there was never telling when somebody's plans could go south.

The subway entrance was just beyond the crowd's horizon. It's 'Terabyte Sized Travel' sign poked out just above the row of hats as a beacon of safety. Unbeknownst to Samantha though, several men and women were waiting underground for a particular thief that'd been on their radar for months.

Captain Kevin Gutierrez was on the scene. His attire didn't match that of a captain actively working for a government mandated task force. On the contrary, Kevin blended in with the civilians quite effectively, as did the seven agents who accompanied him. He though so, anyways. Man didn't exactly have an eye for fashion. His red sports coat and khaki pants made him stand out like a sore thumb.

Kevin's group was here on express orders to capture a particular criminal. Someone who'd eluded their efforts since the beginning of May. It was all based on an anonymous tip, but they were going all out. This task force was just one of three dispatched to the city. Two other teams were also on standby near other major escape routes, but based on their information, it seemed like their target was already inbound.

One of the female agents slid up against the edge of the subway line and gently clicked a bud in her ear. "You sure he'll dive right into the subway, Captain?"

Kevin stood near the bottom of the stairwell that lead into the subway from above ground. He pulled out his phone and peeked at his with a smile while rubbing a hand across the length of his smoothed chin. "He won't get far on foot. I'm sure he'll come." He put his phone away and pulled out a pair of squared glasses. "Ready your specs. Keep an eye out for the beacon's signal. He isn't getting away again."

Samantha Riley kept her head down as she continued down the street. Something in her gut didn't feel right. Usually after a job, she was riding a high and had to fight to keep the smile off of her face. But this time she felt herself looking over her shoulder at every possible second. Maybe it was because the walk to the subway was longer than at her other jobs. Maybe it was because she saw that random guy hiding in the hallway. Maybe she was just becoming a paranoid person. Whatever the case was she felt like she had swallowed a brick.

As she climbed down the stairs, she nervously adjusted the strap on the duffel bag. Suddenly it felt like it weighed a ton. Her green eyes noticed someone lingering at the bottom of the stairs. Why wait at the bottom of the stairs? Not quite in the subway and a split second from being run over by someone in a rush? It seemed as though Sam's instincts were right. There was some sort of sting waiting for her and she had no option other than to walk right into it. The question was whether or not she could walk out.

She forced herself to start taking deep and ragged breaths. Her eyes started to water, and she slowed her steps. She began to look over her shoulder in an exaggerated fashion. "Oh my god, oh my god." She whispered under her breath. She walked past the man lingering on the corner and headed to the transit employee sitting in the booth. By now, tears were streaming down her face, her makeup was ruined, and her throat was constricted from the panic she self-inflicted. "Ma'am is there an officer down here? Please, it's an emergency." She hiccuped.

A man in a red blazer, the some one who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, approached her. Just with the way he walked, she could tell he was a cop. He didn't admit to it, but he acted concerned on her behalf. Sam clung to him in desperation and ripped the duffel bag off of her shoulder. "There was a guy in the bank! He was robbing them! I thought I hid well enough, but as he was leaving he shoved a gun in my face and gave me the bag. Told me to go straight to the subway with it or he would kill me. I wouldn't have done it, but he grabbed my wallet. I was worried that he would come find me where I live." She started to sob hysterically.

That's what snapped the officer into his normal role as captain. In a few moments she was surrounded by a group of civilians, or rather cops dressed as civilians, and all of her hard earned cash was taken away. One of the officers walked her over to the side to interview her. She stuck to her story. Some big scary man with a ski mask and a gun gave her the bag, then ran off in the other direction. She was terrified for her life and had no choice but to obey his demands. It was all so very, very scary. When the officer asked for contact information she gave a fake name and number.

She wiped the tears from her face, further smearing her makeup. "Can I please go? I really just want to be somewhere safe right now." All of the officers were really sweet and ushered her onto the subway. As the train finally took off, she glared at her bag of money being searched. What the fuck had just happened? That money could have kept her comfortable for a year, but now it was all police evidence.

Samantha had a lot to think about. If the cops were waiting for her, she obviously had left too many clues at her previous hits. It might be time to lay low or get out of town. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Or she just had to come up with a better plan.