The Job

The group stared at the map in front of them.

“So, we come in through the backdoors, right?” G asked. “Because that's smart, right?”

“No, it's stupid.” C berated at G before directing his finger towards the map of the jewelry store. “That's exactly what they expect. Our best bet is through the front.”

“So basically you're telling me we're just going to go ahead and bust down the doors of a fucking jewerly store? Great job, General George S fucking Patton. I couldn't have thought better myself.”

J, who sat himself calmly near the side of the room, raised his hand, yet didn't ask for permission to speak. “If we're going through the obvious way, we'll need some good gear in case things get messy. What did we get from the shipment?”

C turned toward J and smiled. “I was hoping someone would ask that.” He proceeded to turn towards the darker corner of the room, and procured a suitcase. He laid it on the table he was giving the lecture from, and opened it for all to see.

“AK-47SUs. Three of them, for each of you. Complete with suppressors and a nice, black paint job.”

G, J, and L (who spent most of his time doing god knows what in the back), got out from their seats to look at the guns. “Well, well, well-” G told under his breath, picking up one of the guns. It had a fine finish – smooth, yet solid grip. The iron sights were small, yet excellent. “-I might have to change my opinion about this after all.”

L, however, looked disappointed. “Please remind me, what's the take on this again?”

“One million.” C replied.

L changed his glance from the guns to C. “Are you telling me we bought SMGs for a god damn one mil take? Will we even make a fucking profit out of this?”

C sighed, disappointed in L's obvious lack of fate. “Well, the guns are around $250, plus another $80 for the suppressor. I bought an additional five magazines for you all to use, which adds up to around $1445-”

“Wait, how the fuck did you get them for that cheap?”

C shrugged his head, a smug smile placed back on his face. “This is America, land of the free and the home of the brave. There's always ways to get things at an affordable price.”

Once the three were associated with their guns, C went back to the drawing board to give them a quick summary of the job.

“Alright, when you go in, you want to start by waving your gun around. Get them scared. The guards probably won't give you too much of a problem, speaking that I doubt they'd defend anyone giving them shit wages. You will need one guy watching both the handler and the extra people, if there are any.”

“G, you're a smooth talker, how about you do it?” J butted in. G grinned and shrugged.

“I guess I am.”

“Alright, G,” C continued, “Make sure to keep your eyes on the handler. If they go for the alarm, kill them, no other choices. If their finger does get the silent alarm before your bullet goes into their brain, though, we'll have a 20 minute window until the cops arrive. The thing you'll really need to focus on though, is the people. If they call 911, I'll give it to you plain and simple – you're fucked.”

“So you're saying I should go around with a little baggy saying 'Oh, we'll need to borrow your phones for a second just put them in here'?”

“No, because it will take to long. If one gets it out, shoot either the phone or them. Your choice. Just remember to give them a warning first.”

L gave a slight chuckle at the comment. “Glad to see we still have some morals.”

11:20 AM. Monday.

The white van pulled up to the side of the street. As expected, the small corridor shopping plaza that fit Romanoff's Jewerly store was empty.

“Who the fuck names a store 'Romanoff's Jewerly'?” J gave a second to ask. No one bothered answering.

As the getaway driver pulled out, the tuxedo wearing, SMG carrying robbers by the codenames J, G, and L entered the premise. Before the outside guard noticed, L shot him in the head with a single bullet, then rushed towards him to make sure his fall was light. The sound out of the barrel came a subtle twig snap – no one noticed.

On the count of three, J and G busted down the doors of the store, waving their guns in the air. L brought in a sizable duffel bag, as he and J began smashing the glass and pouring jewerly in. As they had hoped, there was no alarm attached to any of the glass.

G watched the group of people huddled into a corner. Besides the handler, who held her hands behind her head, there was only three people in the entire store – a mother and her five year old daughter, and another man who seemed to take no relation to the other two.

“Listen,” G began, “If I see a single one of you fucking get out your phones, I'll make sure you don't need to call anyone for a very, very long time. You understand me?”

The mother began sniffling, and the man stood frozen, nodding. The employee held no response, and simply continued holding her hands above her head.

G pointed the gun at the handler's direction. “You, back away from the fucking alarm, now!”

At the opposite end of the room, J, still smashing glass, gave a short chuckle. “What did I tell ya? Smooth talker supreme.”

L continued to push the jewelry into the duffel bag, until something that was off, came to his attention.

“Wait, where the fuck are the other guards?”

G turned around towards him. “You're right. There's always more than one guard, city regulations.”

While G was still turned, the handler came closer, her hands still above her head. “Well, actually,” she began, “t-the guards are on a lunch break.”

G turned back towards her and the huddled group. “Lunch break? So you're telling me-”

“They're coming here,” J stopped breaking the glass to say. It would be obvious on the outside for the guards to tell there's been a robbery, and from there they would be able to get police backup. G looked out the window towards the exits of the plaza, looking for any sign of guards. While he did this, the auburn-haired employee swooped down into the alarm button.

Just as G had taken notice, he fired two shots that punctured the worker's chest, causing her limp body to knock back and shatter a glass case behind her. Panicking, G vaulted over the counter to find that the button underneath it was flashing red.

“Fuck! She pulled the alarm!” he shouted, running back to the entrance. The cries of the child echoed throughout the store, as J and L began to rush.

“Alright, we need to get out of here in ten minutes!” J yelled, as he smashed the remaining glass. After they finished, L got out the disposable cellphone he prepared for the heist, quickly dialing a number.

“Getaway, we need pickup. Okay. Alright, we'll be there,” He ended the call, then tore the phone in half and put it in the duffel bag. “Outside, near the boutique.”

“Is he fucking crazy? The boutique is on the main road!” J yelled, the child still crying.

“He says he'll be there before anyone else gets a chance to notice. Come on, we got a van to catch.”

As the three got outside, they left the cool fragrance of the jewery store into the dark, now raining plaza. They moved down the plaza, shielding the bag from the rain with their suits.

They nearing got to Burough avenue before a noise caught there attention.

“Shit, sirens!” G yelled out, recognizing the noise first. The team cut the corner, where they found the white van waiting for them. Before they were able to enter unnoticed, a blaring police car came from around the corner and stopped in it's tracks.

Before the officers were able to assess the situation, L fired a single bullet into the front window, hitting the driver and causing his nose to rip, spreading it in all directions. He fell on the wheel, causing the horn to go on.

While his partner was checking to see if his buddy was still alive, the group got in the van, L closing the doors behind them. As the driver stepped on the gas, the van escaped into the darkness of the city.

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