Mind Games (25 page)

“Send the girl,” Steve said quietly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“She’s short. Maybe she can crawl under those flame canons and punch in the code.”

“Steve, that’s a new low even for you.”

Jeff stepped towards Steve. “We’re here for the money. We’re not bringing back an injured girl as well.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Even without the blaring alarms, Max’s headache flared up again.

“I can do it.” The small voice came from Sarah.

She blinked, narrowing her blue eyes.

“Sarah,” Max said. “I know you want to help, but…”

“Mommy taught me.”

Jeff looked at Max.

Steve shook in silent laughter.

“What do you mean, Sarah?” Max asked.

“She taught me how to avoid the fire.”

Max stepped towards her. “Really?”

“Max, come on…” Jeff was uncomfortable with even the idea.

“Sarah, we don’t have much time. Are you sure you can do it?”

“Yes.”

“Show us.” Max backed up, making the path open for Sarah.

She walked up to the place she remembered. It was fourteen floor tiles from the first glass barrier. The tiles were important. They had been programed with a pattern. Jen helped Sarah learn this pattern at home in the kitchen.

She jumped onto each tile in the correct sequence. Then, when Sarah jumped to the last tile, a faint green light warmed over the first section of the room.

“It’s safe now,” she said, motioning for Max step forward.

The rest of the crew shared glances of astonishment.

Steve was even more afraid of Sarah now, and he thought her memory would probably be put to good use on a show lik
e
Jeopard
y
.

Now if only Max’s mind would cooperate. Joining Sarah in front of the glass panel, he drummed his fingers along his jaw line.

“Having trouble?” Jeff checked his watch. “Better get this fast.”

“Here’s a thought,” Steve stepped forward, his tall hips brushing against Sarah’s hair. “You should write them down.”

“What?”

“Write the codes down. It might help you remember.”

Jeff tossed Max a permanent marker.

Max wrote directly on the first bulletproof glass panel.

He started from the beginning…

Back Entrance: 3984-6453-7356

Security Room: 7555-3434.

Ladder Cabinet to Vault Level: 5776

Ok. Only three more codes.

Digits. That’s all they were.

Max tried to imagine the numbers the way he’d memorized them, and he wrote the first code in the next set of three.

Extra Code A: 243-866        Good.

Extra Code B: 857-932        Awesome. Next…

Extra Code C: 045-718        That’s right. Yes.

He quickly scanned down the set of digits on the glass.

Time to test his memory.

In the next fifteen seconds, Max flew through all three glass panels, punching in each code with confidence. And it paid off.

All the codes worked the first time.

Max ordered the rest of the crew to wait where they were.

Now, the massive circular steel vault door was the only thing between them and the cash.

Max gave Sarah a high five. “You were pretty cool back there.” He opened a sliding panel to the right of the vault door where a routine number keypad had been replaced with the retinal scan.

Sarah knew what to do.

She stepped forward, placing her chin on a plastic disc, opened her eyes wide and stared forward.

The painless scanning didn’t faze her. It made her feel like one of the secret agents she’d read about.

The scanner beeped twice.

Max rubbed his hands together.

The vault didn’t open.

“Good, now the second part,” he said.

“I know,” Sarah said. “They’re going to catch us.”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Sarah looked up.

Sirens blared faintly above. The police were already inside the bank.

“Sarah, listen. You just have to say it. I don’t want to steal this money either.”

“Then why are we here?”

“It’s complicated.”

“No. It’s not. None of you have the guts to stand up to that shadow man.”

“Believe me, some have tried. He’s too dangerous,” Max said.

“Let’s make a deal.” Sarah pulled her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll open the door if you promise to search for me.”

“Sarah, I’m…”

“Max, they took me from my Aunt. They blindfolded me and sat me in a room all by myself. Who knows where they’re going to put me after tonight.” She spoke with tremendous strength.

“After tonight?”

“When they don’t need me anymore.”

“Sarah, I’m sure you’ll be fine…”

“Just promise me, Max. Do it.”

He nodded. “Okay, Sarah. Yes. I’ll search for you.”

“You’d better.” She leaned forward and spoke
:
“Oranges.”

The voice activation beeped twice in recognition.

Gears turned and clicked as the locking system on the vault’s door slowly came alive. Max motioned for the rest of the crew to move forward. Jeff and Steve pulled the vault door open while Max and Sarah stepped inside.

The money was stacked neatly on shelves in plastic bags.

“Get in here and close the door,” Max said.

Steve pulled it shut. His head was touching the vault’s ceiling, and he whistled. “So this is what ten million dollars looks like. I thought it’d be more bills. Where’s the rest of the green?”

Max rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers to Jeff who supplied him with the folded duffel bags.

They stuffed the money into the bags and noticed the gleaming stacks of gold bricks in the corner.

Jeff was pulled by an invisible force towards the gold.

“Hey, don’t touch it. We’re not here for that,” Max scolded.

“Like they’re going to miss a few pounds of gold.”

“Jeff, stop. We won’t be able to handle the extra weight.” Max was already thinking about the next step of their plan: escape.

He opened the air conditioning vent and moved over one of the stainless steel tables underneath it. He zipped up the duffel bags and handed one bag to each member. Sarah even got her own bag. Then, he slung a bag over his back and jumped onto the table, crawling into the ductwork. The rest of the crew did the same and Jeff barely squeezed through since the opening was slightly narrower than the ductwork in the replica. Plus, Sheri’s cooking added a few inches to his waist.

Steve hoisted Sarah up, and she kicked him in the left ear. He knew this wasn’t an accident. She could sense his fear of her intelligence and it only spurred her on. Steve’s slender body had no trouble sliding up into the aluminum duct.

The group crawled several feet to the right, following the natural curve of the duct, which then forked left and right.

Everyone in the crew except for Sarah knew where the path led. In the replica, it led back up to the floor in Sheri’s kitchen. Now, in the real Bank, the three men visualized the blue prints they’d studied for so many hours. They remembered to crawl left.

The air that moving through the duct was frigid and so was the inside surface. It was impossible to crawl through the ductwork quietly with four sets of shoulders, hips, knees, and ankles banging as they moved, but it didn’t matter.

They could already hear shouting below them. The police must have climbed down the ladder into the hallway leading to the vault.

“Was that you Steve? Max wanted to cover his nose from the stench but he needed to keep crawling.

“Sorry guys.”

The crew moved through the twists and turns of the ductwork as they had practiced dozens of times at the compound, and Steve’s gas problem had been recently disruptive towards their pace, but they weren’t going to give into it today. Although, everyone was relieved he was at the back of the pack. This was no accident.

Stan’s voice came through Max’s walkie-talkie. “Alright, remember it’s two lefts ahead then a right.”

“Thanks.” Max increased his rate of squirming forward. He had to keep a sense of urgency for the rest of the group.

It was only a matter of time before the police questioned one of the guards and figured out where the ductwork led, potentially surprising them at the other end.

Max didn’t want surprises.

He wanted to get the money to the truck.

Whatever it took, he was not returning empty handed.

The most challenging portion of their spelunking was just ahead where the ductwork tuck a sharp turn up, but just as in their practice, they were prepared.

The human train paused, and Jeff opened his jacket removing eight individual suction cups with attached handles. Seconds later, the crew’s efforts sounded just like a giant octopus navigating through the bowels of the bank.

The incline lasted about thirty feet, taking them back to the main level, then up past the first, and towards the second floor.

Steve dropped one of his suction cups down the vent and it bounced below. Every hit turned his face a deeper shade of red. “My bad.”

Max didn’t stop.

If there had been a next time, Steve would have waited with Stan in the truck.

Just two minutes later, Max saw a dim row of bluish security lights raking down from above. An opening.

This revelation was much cooler at the real bank since it actually led to the Bank Manager’s office on the second floor instead of Sheri’s home-style kitchen. Unfortunately, there wouldn’t be any fresh pastries waiting for them in the office.

Still, this memory caused Max to salivate. The duct suddenly took a downward turn, and as Max peaked his head over it, he saw the opening of the vent. Steadying himself, careful not to fall right through, he squinted his eyes and crawled down.

“Wait, I to need clear the exit.” He could already smell the fresh air from the office below. He pushed out with both arms.

*Snap*

Gravity took hold of the vent and pulled it down into the office.

Snnnap...Clunk!!

That was the other difference. The replica’s ductwork led to the floor of the kitchen while the real vent led to the ceiling of the office.

Max and Jeff climbed down and stood on the Bank Manager’s desk, together helping Sarah down next.

Before leaving the room, Max spread his gloved fingers and peered through the drawn blinds of the large window the manager used to watch the hallway traffic.

“Hey, guys…a little help,” Steve whimpered from above.

Jeff turned to watch. “Just let yourself drop.

“On this guy’s desk?”

Jeff shook his head. “Steve, if I can do it, so can you. Now hurry up.”

Steve bit his lip and tried to focus. It was a six foot drop to the desk, and even this height scared him, especially since there was really no place for his long legs to clear the vent. He feared they’d probably bang against it as he fell possibly even catching on something. Then he’d be there in the middle of the room, hanging from the vent while Sarah laughed. He was not going to be mocked by an eleven-year-old girl.

Inching downward, clinging to the inside portion of the vent with his special grip discs, Steve couldn’t move. All the blood rushed to his head, and he wouldn’t budge.

Jeff yelled, “It’s a long way to the truck. Just drop!”

“Fine, just let me do it…”

Sucking in a shallow breath, Steve let go, dropped, and caught himself with his hands only before letting them slip across desktop papers.

It looked like a circus act gone wrong.

Steve’s legs flailed in the air and flipped over his head, but he saved his neck from breaking by doing a rather graceful tuck and roll onto the floor. In the process, he’d shattered a series of glass nesting dolls balancing next to the Bank Manager’s computer. The remains refracted the blue security light.

Max clapped twice. “Great. Get up.”

Steve clambered to his feet and Max crouched low again, turning the doorknob and making a hard left.

The walkie-talkie crunched Stan’s voice as he spoke, “Max, we’ve got an issue with the fire escape on the west side. Cops are all over it like ants on a peach.”

“Alright.” Max eyed each member of his team. “We have to get to the roof.”

Alarmed, Steve turned his neck. “Wait, the roof? No, I can’t do that.”

“Change of plans, Steve. We’re rolling with the punches here.”

“Max is right,” Stan affirmed from the truck. “I’ll meet you on the East side with the truck. Get ready to jump.”

“What?” Steve bladder pulsated. “Jumping? No! Max, you said there were going to be stairs.”