The Bank Job (Part One)
WHO: George Woodruff (The Farmer), Evan Fox (The Cat) and a bunch of (not so) Surprise Guests!
WHEN: Monday Afternoon/Evening
WHERE: The Bank
WHAT: George enlists Evan to help her pick up and transport the new window for the Pentamerone lobby because she's too cheap to pay for delivery. As expected: things never run smooth...
RATED: R
"No, we do not have time to stop for food," George said as she pushed open the door of the bank with her shoulder so she could pull off her gloves. It was shortly before closing time at the bank and she was actually not talking to herself. At Row's wedding, she mentioned having to trek halfway across town to pick up the new window for the Pen's lobby and being not-quite-thrilled about it. Evan offered to help her with the picking up and the lugging, and most importantly he was willing to do so for far less than the guys at the shop would charge to deliver it. Since George was looking to save money, this worked out well for her - even if part of her was convinced Evan only offered to help because at the time of their initial conversation, she was wearing a dress with a v-neck.
But no matter! The boy had agreed, and now he was stuck helping her out, even though the cute girly dress had been changed for jeans and a tee shirt. George had her messenger bag which contained, in addition to her wallet and her Compendium, a check she had obtained from Luke. A check that was made out to her, and which therefore wouldn't help her pay for the new window until she had gone to a place that could magically transform the check into money. Which was why she got on the line of people waiting to see the bank teller. George glanced at her watch and pursed her lips but didn't say anything. They had about ten minutes before the bank closed and then they would have to sort of hurry to make it back to the shop before they closed. She looked over at Evan and said, "Tell you what: when we get back to the Pen, I'll get us some Chinese food, okay? Think of it as a bonus." And an apology for not taking the time to get him fed before making him lift heavy things.
Evan had to hand it to the girl. She ran a tight ship, managed to answer his questions before he asked them, and fended off protests by promising him Chinese food. George was already the best boss he had ever had, and he had only been helping her out for an hour or so. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure how he got roped into helping George fix the Pen's lobby. Must have had something to do with the large amounts of champagne Adam had made him drink. Or the hot dress the blonde had turned up in.
Hell, given the circumstances, it was surprising that helping her out was the only thing he had gotten into.
Not that he minded of course. It had been almost two weeks since he quit his last job, and hate it as he may, Evan needed a steady source of income as much as the next guy. This job was ideal because it paid pretty well, and he didn't have to be up at the crack of dawn for it. Hell, he didn't even have to leave home, really, and a situation like that just couldn't be beat. And except for the food situation, he didn't really have any complaints.
But standing in line was boring, and if George wasn't going to entertain him, someone else would. He pulled his compendium out from inside the back waistband of his jeans and flipped through. Nothing. That was just perfect. "Fine. It had better be the good stuff though."
George rolled her eyes, though she was smirking a little. "Yes," she said, "I promise that I won't offend your delicate palette with substandard Chinese. And the shop is on the way back towards the Pen and it won't be that big a hike. We should be done before you know it." The line moved up a person which meant that George and Evan would be next after the two guys in front of them. George took out her check and on a whim she grabbed her Compendium and a pen too. Seeing that Evan had his book out, she jotted down a quick note, private to him:
At least we're not as impatient as the guys in front of us - talk about twitchy.
It was true: the guys standing in front seemed quite impatient, given the way they kept looking at their watches and occasionally leaning close to talk to each other. George was just about to ask Evan for any theories he might have, but before she could finish writing it, the two men were called to the teller window and the reason for their twitchiness became clear.
"Okay everybody freeze, this is a hold up!" The sound actually came from the door where three more men had arrived, two of which were wearing ski masks while a third was wearing, of all things, pantyhose on his head. The two men in front of George and Evan were wearing knit caps which they pulled down over their faces, revealing them to be ski masks. It all happened very quickly, and by the time any of the other few people in the bank realized what was happening, the men had already blocked off the exit and one of them had pulled a gun on the aging security guard who was sitting on a stool by the entrance.
"Seriously?" George muttered, rather shocked by the whole thing. She thought this thing only happened in the movies, after all.
"Thank you for your consideration, George dearest." He started scribbling down a reply to George's message - Maybe they just really need to go p
- but was interrupted by the shouting from the door. The men with the masks at the door were carrying guns - shotguns to be precise - and the men in front of George and him brought out revolvers. A warning shot was fired, as is customary in a hold-up, and people began to scream and scramble in confusion.
"I SAID FREEZE!" All movement in the bank seized. The man in the pantyhose forced one of the bank employees to take him to the fuse box, while the others herded the hostages into a corner of the room. "Come on George, it's time to move." Evan spoke under his breath, and took a hold of George's hand. "Don't want to give the idiots here a reason to get angry." Everyone was forced to drop their mobile phones and blackberries into a large plastic bag, and then made to sit on the floor.
Evan quickly realized that the men had the entire heist planned out to a T. They moved with efficiency and co-ordination, and knew exactly where everything seemed to be. "Jesus, they must have been watching this place for weeks." The men with the revolvers made the tellers empty the small amount of money in the bank registers, and join the civilians on the floor. The leader of the group spoke with someone (presumably the one with the pantyhose) over a walkie talkie and the lights went out ten seconds later. For the third time in his life, Evan was grateful for the amazing night-vision the Cat had given him.
The men broke out industrial-grade flashlights, and the leader stood up on a side table near the hostages. "Now listen up, everybody. My friends and I have a little work to do here. We're sure that one of the tellers managed to hit the silent alarm, which means you guys," he gestured with his gun, making everybody shrink away, "are our meal ticket out of here. Now we don't want to hurt you, but try anything - and I mean anything - and we won't hesitate. So let's not try to get everyone here killed with heroics, shall we?"
Mr. Pantyhose reappeared with a trembling bank-manager and the leader and one of the men from the line went over to talk. This left two men to watch over the hostages, who had finally started to get over the shock. A few of them cried, and one of them seemed to be praying under his breath. Evan put his arm around George's shoulder, a move that would seem like he was trying to console her, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"It looks like we're going to be here for a while. Where's your compendium?"
The normal response to being involved in a bank holdup was probably to be frightened or panicky, but George's initial emotion was to feel incredulous. Were they seriously robbing a bank? And did it have to be right this minute? I mean come on: she had shit to do. Of course, the sight of a gun was enough to get her to snap out of it and realize that this was actually a dangerous situation. She went quietly over with Evan, not even protesting the hand holding. Her cell was handed over without complaint, and George sat down with Evan in a corner by the other hostages.
When the lights went out, George joined some of the others in gasping and generally being scared. There was enough light from an emergency light for her to make out the general outline of the room and some minor details, but the rest was pretty much lost to George. "Apparently I should have switched to Bank of America," she muttered once the nearest bank robber had passed. She couldn't help it, really: sarcasm was her defense mechanism and she was a lot more scared than she would admit.
Not so scared, though, that she wouldn't notice Evan getting awfully chummy. George raised an eyebrow and was just about to call Evan on his Highly Inappropriate Timing when he whispered in her ear. Instead of sweet nothings, though, he was whispering some good advice, and George just gave a little nod and shifted her position. To the bank robbers, it looked like the blonde was frightened and leaning on her dashing boyfriend to provide the necessary support and comfort in her time of need. In reality, when she drew her legs up to her chest and leaned against Evan, it was all in an effort to hide the journal that was open on her lap. Her entry was definitely not going to be the easiest to read, but it was the only way they had to get a message out to the outside world.
Anyone know that bank that's a couple blocks from the Pen? Across from the Dry Cleaner's? Yeah, it's being held up right now. Evan and I are inside and apparently we're going to be held hostage. There are five guys with guns here and they just turned out most of the lights and have us sitting quietly in the corner while they crack the vault or something.
So... how was your day?
Anyway, I think someone hit a silent alarm so the cops probably know about this, but if anyone has any info about it, that would be kind of useful. Hopefully it won't take too long - I don't think we want to be stuck here all night.
Evan was grateful for George's sarcasm since he was pretty certain he wouldn't have known what to do had she gotten all weepy like some of the other women. This meant he could focus his mind on what was going on instead of consoling her, and put his eyesight to good use. He started off by trying to remember facts about the masked men - heights, weights, mannerisms and the sort - that he could recount later to the police. They would be more lax with their strict rules, since they would be assuming that nobody could see. "Nah, I'm fairly certain the Bank of America has higher interest rates and less excitement. Now who would want that?"
Evan watched George's Compendium over her shoulder and waited for a response, even though he was uncertain what anyone else could do in this situation. The robbers had pretty much said that they were going to be hostages until they broke through the vault, and if movies were anything to go by, that would take hours. He knew half the people near him wouldn't last that long without moving or talking, and wondered if the men were just being stupid or sadistic by keeping them in the corner. The walkie-talkie of one of the men guarding them beeped at just that moment with a short, barked order to move them.
So they weren't stupid.
"George, quick." Evan muttered a warning to the blonde before the men could come by and see the compendium. The hostages were hauled to their feet one by one and marched to the bank's enormous basement. The twenty-four of them were pushed into one of the rooms with the safety-deposit boxes and barricaded in, which was another smart move on the robbers' part as it was a heavily fortified room with no way out. Hostages safely out of the way, the two watchdogs (as Evan had started to refer to them mentally) joined their partners in the vault-breaking. Five seconds had barely passed before the room broke out in chatter.
"Oh my God we're all going to die!"
"No, we're not Sophie, please keep calm. Concentrate on your breathing, dear."
"So how we gonna git outta 'ere? Someone oughta show these punks they can't just take us hostage and lock us in some fuckin' room to rot."
"I know! Who do they even think they are?"
Evan bit his tongue and pulled out his compendium to see the responses to George's entry. Arguing with the other hostages wasn't going to be helpful. This, however, just might be.
George was writing in the Compendium right up until the point when Evan got her attention. She didn't finish her thought, just closed the book and slipped it under the flap of her bag. She didn't say anything while they were being moved down the stairs, mostly because one of the guys was standing right behind her and Evan since they were taking up the rear. There was one point when the thug gave her a little shove to get her moving when she looked over her shoulder sharply. She took a breath to say something but caught a glance at Evan out of the corner of her eye and thought better of it. She faced forward again and kept moving.
"You got a starin' problem, doll?" Unfortunately, the robber wasn't going to let it slide at that: he'd spotted her and decided to call her out on the fact that she was looking at her.
"No," George said evenly, just staring straight ahead at the door to the room they were being herded into. "Just admiring your ski mask: navy blue's a good color for you." This was enough to get her shoved over the threshold and into the room itself, where she collided with a man who had just gotten there himself. Muttering an apology, she moved over to stand near Evan off to the side as the door was closed.
The blonde frowned a little and dug out her Compendium so she could check out the entry. It probably looked strange to be looking in a book at a time like this, but most of the other hostages were busy trying to come up with their plans and didn't pay much attention. George finished her earlier comment and penned another quick one before looking around at the room they were in. She spotted something up near the ceiling and elbowed Evan slightly. When he looked over, she gestured towards it with her chin. "Think it goes anywhere good?" It was high up and not exactly large, but George figured she could probably squeeze through it if he gave her a boost. It shouldn't be too hard to take the screws out from this side - it was probably designed to keep people from sneaking INTO the room and not out of it.
"Well, there's only one way to find out." Evan scratched out a few replies to his friends before putting his Compendium away. He called one of the calmer hostages over - a young businessman in his mid-thirties - to help him get George up into the vent. He handed over his swiss-army knife (watching enough action movies had convinced him to always have one a long time ago) for George to use as a screw-driver, and the two men held her up while she worked on the screws.
It took George about five minutes to get the cover off and get into the vent. Thank god for her petite size.
"So what do you see up...." The sound of heavy boots approaching cut Evan off. Shit. George and Evan had managed to make themselves pretty conspicuous (her with the mouthing off and him with his staring to memorize details), and the guy would notice if she wasn't around him. Gesturing to the yuppie to cover for him, Evan quickly moved behind a row of safety-deposit boxes and hoped the robber wouldn't get to curious.
"See? Just be good like this, and no one will need to get hurt." Evan silently celebrated the man not noticing the open vent cover. He did however notice the lack of two hostages. "HEY! Where are the blonde and the pretty boy?"
Quick on his feet, the yuppie replied before anyone could even open their mouths. "They're off necking in the corner. You know kids, they think they're going to die and they want to sneak in one last quickie."
Evan held his breath, praying the gunman would buy it. After a silence that didn't seem like it would end, Evan heard short laugh, followed by a gruff "lucky him." Relief flooded through him, and Evan started breathing once again. They could have very well been done for there.
George made short work of the screws and handed the vent cover down because she was afraid that people would the thugs might notice the clatter. It didn't take too much get her boosted up - she was pretty small, really. Being built like a high schooler may have contributed to her semi-unemployment, but it did finally come in handy now. She moved slowly through the vents, because she was pretty sure that contrary to what the movies say, air conditioning vents weren't designed to hold the weight of a person and she didn't really want it to give out completely. She moved slowly and got what she thought was a good distance before she came across a problem: there was a metal grate installed in the duct. She tried to pull it loose, but it was securely fastened - apparently it wasn't any easier to break out of the safety deposit room than it was to try and break into it.
She didn't call back to tell them what she saw because she wasn't sure where the duct went and she didn't want her voice to carry. Instead, George found herself trying to crawl backwards out of a very tiny (very dusty vent). As she neared the end of the vent, she could hear someone talking above the normal frightened murmur that she was used to hearing, and she stayed still, heart in her throat. She couldn't look back to see if anyone was looking at the vent so she just closed her eyes, held her breath and waited it out. And yeah, okay, she prayed a little.
Eventually, though, she heard the sound of the door closing again and the guy who helped put her into the vent whispered that the coast was clear. George kept backing out on arms that suddenly felt a bit rubbery and eventually felt her legs hang out into the air. With the help of Evan and their new friend, she was able to get back down on the floor and dust off her hands and brush the dust off her pants. While they put the vent cover back up, she shook her head. "It's no good," she said, "The vent's blocked up. We'll have to wait it out." Once the cover was secured, she wandered over to sit next to Evan and dig out her Compendium to pass the time.
The next few minutes were spent reading through entries and penning the occasional reply. At one point, of course, she punched Evan lightly on the arm for something he'd written. "I promise," George said, "If we get out of this, you will have all the Chinese food you could ever possibly want to eat." It was maybe a downer that she'd said 'if' they get out of here, which was probably a more accurate indication of how scared she really was.
George was in the middle of writing a response when footsteps approached the door from the outside. Clearly it was the men approaching - probably whoever was just in there while she was in the vent. She glanced up but didn't really think too much of it - she was surprised when she heard Evan mutter "Fuck" since she didn't think it was a big deal. So what if the guy came in and saw them writing in their Compendiums? He'd just figure they were bored or something. George just went on writing like nothing was wrong, which is why she was taken completely by surprised when Evan pulled her into his lap and started kissing her.
When she woke up this morning, George had a very different idea of where her day would be heading. Boring errands, some manual labor, and lo mein - that was the plan. The plan did not involve being held hostage in the basement of a bank, nor did it involve crawling through a vent shaft like some kind of spy. But her plan for the day definitely didn't include making out with Evan Fox. Like, at all. That wasn't even on the agenda for, like, all of 2008. Still, she recovered pretty quickly from her shock and did what any girl would do in such a situation: she started kissing back. She was a bit rusty, sure, since she hadn't been making out with people for a while now - bit it was like riding a bike. Just with more tongue.
"Hey, knock it off you two." The gruff voice of one of their captors is what snapped George back to the reality of their situation and she looked over at the guy, startled and a bit flushed. She muttered a sorry and looked down, apparently embarrassed. The guy gave them a cryptic warning not to get too comfortable, and then he was gone again.
When the door closed, George smacked Evan on the arm. "The hell was that?" she asked, though she kept her voice low and truth be told: she didn't look too mad about it. After that, she went back to finishing whatever she was writing in her Compendium.
Evan had to hold back a grin at the sight of George's fake indignation. "Mr. Yuppie had to tell the guy we were going at it in the back when he came in while you were up there." He shrugged, completely unembarrassed by the display they had just created. "We had to make it look believable." He left out the 'and we sure did' part, because they both knew it was implied.
Truth be told, Evan had come here today expecting manual labor, and good food, with a dose of teasing banter on the side. His plans certainly hadn't included having George's tongue in his mouth, but it was always a welcome addition. He was a guy, after all.
A few hours passed by in a similar fashion, with the pair alternately writing in their compendiums while joking around, and going at it like there was no tomorrow (they had to keep it intense for the sake of realism) every time a gunman checked in. At one point, George jumped him when there was nobody coming because she had thought she heard footsteps. Evan had let that one go at the time, but he sure as hell was going to tease her about it when they got out of this. Yes, that was a when, and not an if, because Evan was an optimist.
But as all good things had to come to an end, Evan and George's fun did as well. It took the robbers about three hours to break into the vault, but once they had their duffel bags packed, it was time for the hostages to be used as human bargaining chips. Cramped and afraid, the hostages weren't moving as fast as the robbers would like, and several of them were shoved up the stairs mercilessly. Evan once again put his arm around George as they brought up the back of the line, but this had much less to do with appearances and more to do with the fact that he didn't want his tiny friend hurt.
The ground floor of the bank was what Evan would describe as a 'proper sight'. There were police barricades outside the glass doors, and the blurry shadows of a crowd gathered behind. Blinding lights shone through the high windows every time helicopters passed. If the robbers were expecting to make it past this many policemen, Evan and George were in trouble. Real trouble.
"Fuck. I think we're screwed, George."
[To Be Continued - dun dun dunnnnnn]
WHEN: Monday Afternoon/Evening
WHERE: The Bank
WHAT: George enlists Evan to help her pick up and transport the new window for the Pentamerone lobby because she's too cheap to pay for delivery. As expected: things never run smooth...
RATED: R
"No, we do not have time to stop for food," George said as she pushed open the door of the bank with her shoulder so she could pull off her gloves. It was shortly before closing time at the bank and she was actually not talking to herself. At Row's wedding, she mentioned having to trek halfway across town to pick up the new window for the Pen's lobby and being not-quite-thrilled about it. Evan offered to help her with the picking up and the lugging, and most importantly he was willing to do so for far less than the guys at the shop would charge to deliver it. Since George was looking to save money, this worked out well for her - even if part of her was convinced Evan only offered to help because at the time of their initial conversation, she was wearing a dress with a v-neck.
But no matter! The boy had agreed, and now he was stuck helping her out, even though the cute girly dress had been changed for jeans and a tee shirt. George had her messenger bag which contained, in addition to her wallet and her Compendium, a check she had obtained from Luke. A check that was made out to her, and which therefore wouldn't help her pay for the new window until she had gone to a place that could magically transform the check into money. Which was why she got on the line of people waiting to see the bank teller. George glanced at her watch and pursed her lips but didn't say anything. They had about ten minutes before the bank closed and then they would have to sort of hurry to make it back to the shop before they closed. She looked over at Evan and said, "Tell you what: when we get back to the Pen, I'll get us some Chinese food, okay? Think of it as a bonus." And an apology for not taking the time to get him fed before making him lift heavy things.
Evan had to hand it to the girl. She ran a tight ship, managed to answer his questions before he asked them, and fended off protests by promising him Chinese food. George was already the best boss he had ever had, and he had only been helping her out for an hour or so. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure how he got roped into helping George fix the Pen's lobby. Must have had something to do with the large amounts of champagne Adam had made him drink. Or the hot dress the blonde had turned up in.
Hell, given the circumstances, it was surprising that helping her out was the only thing he had gotten into.
Not that he minded of course. It had been almost two weeks since he quit his last job, and hate it as he may, Evan needed a steady source of income as much as the next guy. This job was ideal because it paid pretty well, and he didn't have to be up at the crack of dawn for it. Hell, he didn't even have to leave home, really, and a situation like that just couldn't be beat. And except for the food situation, he didn't really have any complaints.
But standing in line was boring, and if George wasn't going to entertain him, someone else would. He pulled his compendium out from inside the back waistband of his jeans and flipped through. Nothing. That was just perfect. "Fine. It had better be the good stuff though."
George rolled her eyes, though she was smirking a little. "Yes," she said, "I promise that I won't offend your delicate palette with substandard Chinese. And the shop is on the way back towards the Pen and it won't be that big a hike. We should be done before you know it." The line moved up a person which meant that George and Evan would be next after the two guys in front of them. George took out her check and on a whim she grabbed her Compendium and a pen too. Seeing that Evan had his book out, she jotted down a quick note, private to him:
At least we're not as impatient as the guys in front of us - talk about twitchy.
It was true: the guys standing in front seemed quite impatient, given the way they kept looking at their watches and occasionally leaning close to talk to each other. George was just about to ask Evan for any theories he might have, but before she could finish writing it, the two men were called to the teller window and the reason for their twitchiness became clear.
"Okay everybody freeze, this is a hold up!" The sound actually came from the door where three more men had arrived, two of which were wearing ski masks while a third was wearing, of all things, pantyhose on his head. The two men in front of George and Evan were wearing knit caps which they pulled down over their faces, revealing them to be ski masks. It all happened very quickly, and by the time any of the other few people in the bank realized what was happening, the men had already blocked off the exit and one of them had pulled a gun on the aging security guard who was sitting on a stool by the entrance.
"Seriously?" George muttered, rather shocked by the whole thing. She thought this thing only happened in the movies, after all.
"Thank you for your consideration, George dearest." He started scribbling down a reply to George's message - Maybe they just really need to go p
- but was interrupted by the shouting from the door. The men with the masks at the door were carrying guns - shotguns to be precise - and the men in front of George and him brought out revolvers. A warning shot was fired, as is customary in a hold-up, and people began to scream and scramble in confusion.
"I SAID FREEZE!" All movement in the bank seized. The man in the pantyhose forced one of the bank employees to take him to the fuse box, while the others herded the hostages into a corner of the room. "Come on George, it's time to move." Evan spoke under his breath, and took a hold of George's hand. "Don't want to give the idiots here a reason to get angry." Everyone was forced to drop their mobile phones and blackberries into a large plastic bag, and then made to sit on the floor.
Evan quickly realized that the men had the entire heist planned out to a T. They moved with efficiency and co-ordination, and knew exactly where everything seemed to be. "Jesus, they must have been watching this place for weeks." The men with the revolvers made the tellers empty the small amount of money in the bank registers, and join the civilians on the floor. The leader of the group spoke with someone (presumably the one with the pantyhose) over a walkie talkie and the lights went out ten seconds later. For the third time in his life, Evan was grateful for the amazing night-vision the Cat had given him.
The men broke out industrial-grade flashlights, and the leader stood up on a side table near the hostages. "Now listen up, everybody. My friends and I have a little work to do here. We're sure that one of the tellers managed to hit the silent alarm, which means you guys," he gestured with his gun, making everybody shrink away, "are our meal ticket out of here. Now we don't want to hurt you, but try anything - and I mean anything - and we won't hesitate. So let's not try to get everyone here killed with heroics, shall we?"
Mr. Pantyhose reappeared with a trembling bank-manager and the leader and one of the men from the line went over to talk. This left two men to watch over the hostages, who had finally started to get over the shock. A few of them cried, and one of them seemed to be praying under his breath. Evan put his arm around George's shoulder, a move that would seem like he was trying to console her, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"It looks like we're going to be here for a while. Where's your compendium?"
The normal response to being involved in a bank holdup was probably to be frightened or panicky, but George's initial emotion was to feel incredulous. Were they seriously robbing a bank? And did it have to be right this minute? I mean come on: she had shit to do. Of course, the sight of a gun was enough to get her to snap out of it and realize that this was actually a dangerous situation. She went quietly over with Evan, not even protesting the hand holding. Her cell was handed over without complaint, and George sat down with Evan in a corner by the other hostages.
When the lights went out, George joined some of the others in gasping and generally being scared. There was enough light from an emergency light for her to make out the general outline of the room and some minor details, but the rest was pretty much lost to George. "Apparently I should have switched to Bank of America," she muttered once the nearest bank robber had passed. She couldn't help it, really: sarcasm was her defense mechanism and she was a lot more scared than she would admit.
Not so scared, though, that she wouldn't notice Evan getting awfully chummy. George raised an eyebrow and was just about to call Evan on his Highly Inappropriate Timing when he whispered in her ear. Instead of sweet nothings, though, he was whispering some good advice, and George just gave a little nod and shifted her position. To the bank robbers, it looked like the blonde was frightened and leaning on her dashing boyfriend to provide the necessary support and comfort in her time of need. In reality, when she drew her legs up to her chest and leaned against Evan, it was all in an effort to hide the journal that was open on her lap. Her entry was definitely not going to be the easiest to read, but it was the only way they had to get a message out to the outside world.
Anyone know that bank that's a couple blocks from the Pen? Across from the Dry Cleaner's? Yeah, it's being held up right now. Evan and I are inside and apparently we're going to be held hostage. There are five guys with guns here and they just turned out most of the lights and have us sitting quietly in the corner while they crack the vault or something.
So... how was your day?
Anyway, I think someone hit a silent alarm so the cops probably know about this, but if anyone has any info about it, that would be kind of useful. Hopefully it won't take too long - I don't think we want to be stuck here all night.
Evan was grateful for George's sarcasm since he was pretty certain he wouldn't have known what to do had she gotten all weepy like some of the other women. This meant he could focus his mind on what was going on instead of consoling her, and put his eyesight to good use. He started off by trying to remember facts about the masked men - heights, weights, mannerisms and the sort - that he could recount later to the police. They would be more lax with their strict rules, since they would be assuming that nobody could see. "Nah, I'm fairly certain the Bank of America has higher interest rates and less excitement. Now who would want that?"
Evan watched George's Compendium over her shoulder and waited for a response, even though he was uncertain what anyone else could do in this situation. The robbers had pretty much said that they were going to be hostages until they broke through the vault, and if movies were anything to go by, that would take hours. He knew half the people near him wouldn't last that long without moving or talking, and wondered if the men were just being stupid or sadistic by keeping them in the corner. The walkie-talkie of one of the men guarding them beeped at just that moment with a short, barked order to move them.
So they weren't stupid.
"George, quick." Evan muttered a warning to the blonde before the men could come by and see the compendium. The hostages were hauled to their feet one by one and marched to the bank's enormous basement. The twenty-four of them were pushed into one of the rooms with the safety-deposit boxes and barricaded in, which was another smart move on the robbers' part as it was a heavily fortified room with no way out. Hostages safely out of the way, the two watchdogs (as Evan had started to refer to them mentally) joined their partners in the vault-breaking. Five seconds had barely passed before the room broke out in chatter.
"Oh my God we're all going to die!"
"No, we're not Sophie, please keep calm. Concentrate on your breathing, dear."
"So how we gonna git outta 'ere? Someone oughta show these punks they can't just take us hostage and lock us in some fuckin' room to rot."
"I know! Who do they even think they are?"
Evan bit his tongue and pulled out his compendium to see the responses to George's entry. Arguing with the other hostages wasn't going to be helpful. This, however, just might be.
George was writing in the Compendium right up until the point when Evan got her attention. She didn't finish her thought, just closed the book and slipped it under the flap of her bag. She didn't say anything while they were being moved down the stairs, mostly because one of the guys was standing right behind her and Evan since they were taking up the rear. There was one point when the thug gave her a little shove to get her moving when she looked over her shoulder sharply. She took a breath to say something but caught a glance at Evan out of the corner of her eye and thought better of it. She faced forward again and kept moving.
"You got a starin' problem, doll?" Unfortunately, the robber wasn't going to let it slide at that: he'd spotted her and decided to call her out on the fact that she was looking at her.
"No," George said evenly, just staring straight ahead at the door to the room they were being herded into. "Just admiring your ski mask: navy blue's a good color for you." This was enough to get her shoved over the threshold and into the room itself, where she collided with a man who had just gotten there himself. Muttering an apology, she moved over to stand near Evan off to the side as the door was closed.
The blonde frowned a little and dug out her Compendium so she could check out the entry. It probably looked strange to be looking in a book at a time like this, but most of the other hostages were busy trying to come up with their plans and didn't pay much attention. George finished her earlier comment and penned another quick one before looking around at the room they were in. She spotted something up near the ceiling and elbowed Evan slightly. When he looked over, she gestured towards it with her chin. "Think it goes anywhere good?" It was high up and not exactly large, but George figured she could probably squeeze through it if he gave her a boost. It shouldn't be too hard to take the screws out from this side - it was probably designed to keep people from sneaking INTO the room and not out of it.
"Well, there's only one way to find out." Evan scratched out a few replies to his friends before putting his Compendium away. He called one of the calmer hostages over - a young businessman in his mid-thirties - to help him get George up into the vent. He handed over his swiss-army knife (watching enough action movies had convinced him to always have one a long time ago) for George to use as a screw-driver, and the two men held her up while she worked on the screws.
It took George about five minutes to get the cover off and get into the vent. Thank god for her petite size.
"So what do you see up...." The sound of heavy boots approaching cut Evan off. Shit. George and Evan had managed to make themselves pretty conspicuous (her with the mouthing off and him with his staring to memorize details), and the guy would notice if she wasn't around him. Gesturing to the yuppie to cover for him, Evan quickly moved behind a row of safety-deposit boxes and hoped the robber wouldn't get to curious.
"See? Just be good like this, and no one will need to get hurt." Evan silently celebrated the man not noticing the open vent cover. He did however notice the lack of two hostages. "HEY! Where are the blonde and the pretty boy?"
Quick on his feet, the yuppie replied before anyone could even open their mouths. "They're off necking in the corner. You know kids, they think they're going to die and they want to sneak in one last quickie."
Evan held his breath, praying the gunman would buy it. After a silence that didn't seem like it would end, Evan heard short laugh, followed by a gruff "lucky him." Relief flooded through him, and Evan started breathing once again. They could have very well been done for there.
George made short work of the screws and handed the vent cover down because she was afraid that people would the thugs might notice the clatter. It didn't take too much get her boosted up - she was pretty small, really. Being built like a high schooler may have contributed to her semi-unemployment, but it did finally come in handy now. She moved slowly through the vents, because she was pretty sure that contrary to what the movies say, air conditioning vents weren't designed to hold the weight of a person and she didn't really want it to give out completely. She moved slowly and got what she thought was a good distance before she came across a problem: there was a metal grate installed in the duct. She tried to pull it loose, but it was securely fastened - apparently it wasn't any easier to break out of the safety deposit room than it was to try and break into it.
She didn't call back to tell them what she saw because she wasn't sure where the duct went and she didn't want her voice to carry. Instead, George found herself trying to crawl backwards out of a very tiny (very dusty vent). As she neared the end of the vent, she could hear someone talking above the normal frightened murmur that she was used to hearing, and she stayed still, heart in her throat. She couldn't look back to see if anyone was looking at the vent so she just closed her eyes, held her breath and waited it out. And yeah, okay, she prayed a little.
Eventually, though, she heard the sound of the door closing again and the guy who helped put her into the vent whispered that the coast was clear. George kept backing out on arms that suddenly felt a bit rubbery and eventually felt her legs hang out into the air. With the help of Evan and their new friend, she was able to get back down on the floor and dust off her hands and brush the dust off her pants. While they put the vent cover back up, she shook her head. "It's no good," she said, "The vent's blocked up. We'll have to wait it out." Once the cover was secured, she wandered over to sit next to Evan and dig out her Compendium to pass the time.
The next few minutes were spent reading through entries and penning the occasional reply. At one point, of course, she punched Evan lightly on the arm for something he'd written. "I promise," George said, "If we get out of this, you will have all the Chinese food you could ever possibly want to eat." It was maybe a downer that she'd said 'if' they get out of here, which was probably a more accurate indication of how scared she really was.
George was in the middle of writing a response when footsteps approached the door from the outside. Clearly it was the men approaching - probably whoever was just in there while she was in the vent. She glanced up but didn't really think too much of it - she was surprised when she heard Evan mutter "Fuck" since she didn't think it was a big deal. So what if the guy came in and saw them writing in their Compendiums? He'd just figure they were bored or something. George just went on writing like nothing was wrong, which is why she was taken completely by surprised when Evan pulled her into his lap and started kissing her.
When she woke up this morning, George had a very different idea of where her day would be heading. Boring errands, some manual labor, and lo mein - that was the plan. The plan did not involve being held hostage in the basement of a bank, nor did it involve crawling through a vent shaft like some kind of spy. But her plan for the day definitely didn't include making out with Evan Fox. Like, at all. That wasn't even on the agenda for, like, all of 2008. Still, she recovered pretty quickly from her shock and did what any girl would do in such a situation: she started kissing back. She was a bit rusty, sure, since she hadn't been making out with people for a while now - bit it was like riding a bike. Just with more tongue.
"Hey, knock it off you two." The gruff voice of one of their captors is what snapped George back to the reality of their situation and she looked over at the guy, startled and a bit flushed. She muttered a sorry and looked down, apparently embarrassed. The guy gave them a cryptic warning not to get too comfortable, and then he was gone again.
When the door closed, George smacked Evan on the arm. "The hell was that?" she asked, though she kept her voice low and truth be told: she didn't look too mad about it. After that, she went back to finishing whatever she was writing in her Compendium.
Evan had to hold back a grin at the sight of George's fake indignation. "Mr. Yuppie had to tell the guy we were going at it in the back when he came in while you were up there." He shrugged, completely unembarrassed by the display they had just created. "We had to make it look believable." He left out the 'and we sure did' part, because they both knew it was implied.
Truth be told, Evan had come here today expecting manual labor, and good food, with a dose of teasing banter on the side. His plans certainly hadn't included having George's tongue in his mouth, but it was always a welcome addition. He was a guy, after all.
A few hours passed by in a similar fashion, with the pair alternately writing in their compendiums while joking around, and going at it like there was no tomorrow (they had to keep it intense for the sake of realism) every time a gunman checked in. At one point, George jumped him when there was nobody coming because she had thought she heard footsteps. Evan had let that one go at the time, but he sure as hell was going to tease her about it when they got out of this. Yes, that was a when, and not an if, because Evan was an optimist.
But as all good things had to come to an end, Evan and George's fun did as well. It took the robbers about three hours to break into the vault, but once they had their duffel bags packed, it was time for the hostages to be used as human bargaining chips. Cramped and afraid, the hostages weren't moving as fast as the robbers would like, and several of them were shoved up the stairs mercilessly. Evan once again put his arm around George as they brought up the back of the line, but this had much less to do with appearances and more to do with the fact that he didn't want his tiny friend hurt.
The ground floor of the bank was what Evan would describe as a 'proper sight'. There were police barricades outside the glass doors, and the blurry shadows of a crowd gathered behind. Blinding lights shone through the high windows every time helicopters passed. If the robbers were expecting to make it past this many policemen, Evan and George were in trouble. Real trouble.
"Fuck. I think we're screwed, George."
[To Be Continued - dun dun dunnnnnn]