Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

46 ∞ just another job

"You wanted to know exactly what happens," she responded matter-of-factly, lifting her brows at him with a daring glint in her eyes.

He shook his head, tightening his eyes on her—she had the nerve to try provoking him. But she remained unfazed, meeting his gaze straight on as if she knew he was more amused than annoyed.

We're wasting time. He threw a sharp glance around before nudging her to step ahead of him. As they came to the entrance, he flicked his arm and glanced at his new watch: the countdown started in three. He turned his head to look at Pace across the street—one, and at Toni—two, and pushed the door open—three, knowing that Toni and Pace were signaling the count start to Ram, TJ, and Sleek.

Lora entered ahead of him, her eyes on the security guard inside the door—phase two—and Jagg glanced at him as he passed. The guard was staring straight through him as if he weren't there. He kept himself one step behind Lora while she proceeded with her two-pronged interference. He'd been somewhat skeptical about how effectively she could use her choker to target only the alarm system, and the security's radio comms, without disturbing the tellers' computers or the CCTV video surveillance. He could only assume that was exactly what she did since there was no reaction from behind the counter. Then she imposed mental blinkers on the dozen or so hushed customers, tellers, and a couple of personnel on the floor. She did the same to the other two guards. The people would simply continue with what they were doing, without paying the two any notice, as they headed for the customer service manager's desk.

The same woman he'd spoken to yesterday looked up from the client she was attending to, but the questioning recognition was instantly wiped from her face—phase three—and she excused herself and rose. The client remained seated at the desk without comment.

"Take us to security," Lora said quietly and the woman nodded without hesitation.

"Please follow me."

Jagg glanced over his shoulder as he followed through the door—it was uncanny how everything seemed so business-as-usual... A heist like this would normally be a very stressful situation for the people they encountered: being forced into submission by guns and commanding voices. If this continued as planned, then this method would be far better.

They made the woman leave them in front of the door to return to her desk. There was one guard in the room monitoring the security feed that was still working as normal as they entered; he jumped up as the door opened on him. He looked confusedly from the monitors that suddenly switched to static, to Lora and Jagg—his hand reaching for his holster. In the next instant, his hand dropped, and he sank back into the chair with his eyes on the monitors. He would remain unaware like that until his shift changed.

"Where is the recorder?" Jagg asked, pulling on a pair of gloves from his pocket. The man pointed, and Jagg retrieved the tape, then looked at his watch: thirty-five seconds. He returned to the passage where Lora was waiting, her face expressionless.

A door further down flew open with a man rushing out into the passage. "What's going on here? The security feed's down... Who are you?" he added as he saw the two in front of the security room. "The police is on their way; I've already activated the alarm."

"It works not," Lora said evenly, stepping toward the man as he paused and relaxed, his eyes focusing beyond them. Jagg assumed he was the general manager.

"Who has access to the cash vault?" he asked.

"I do," the man answered without batting an eye.

"Take us to it and open it."

"Of course."

Every step continued as planned. As soon as the manager let them into the vault he returned to his normal routine as if nothing was happening.