After they had cleaned all the tables and swept the floor, Yoongi gestured Taehyung to follow him behind the counter and out the backdoor into the small backyard. In fifteen minutes they had to be at Namjoon's.
"You have a Kawasaki ninja?" the younger asked amazed.
"Yeah, bought it after the last job." He handed the crimson the second helmet and put on his own. "You comin'?"
With wide eyes and a big grin, the mathematician put on his helmet and climbed on the machine, slinging his arms around him. He started the engine and slowly rolled out of the backyard and onto the street. When he let the gear-shift snap a little harder, the 128 PS kicked in and the machine jumped forward. He could feel Taehyung laugh behind him, and he smiled satisfied. When he had seen the other crying in the stall, he had been confused. Why would his lovely redhead cry? But when the other had asked him what he was for him, he kind of had understood. All the girls he normally did not notice, because he was caught up in solving a problem or talking to his friend, must have made him realize something. What exactly that was, he did not know. But judging from the question the younger had surprised him with, it had something to do with his habit of just doing one-night-stands. Maybe he had come to realize that his loneliness could not be eliminated with frivolous and diverting hookups.
Well, for now, he wanted and needed him to be happy. And what better way was there to forget about shit than speeding through the city on a motor bike?
Ten minutes later, he had taken some twists to stretch their drive, they came to stand in front of the programmer's apartment block. He stopped the motor and propped the vehicle up on the stator, getting off his helmet. Shaking his head, he made the blond strands fall back into place and turned around to the younger.
"This was awesome!" the crimson blurted out when he had gotten off his helmet.
"Well, after this job you can buy one of those, too."
He went over to the keypad and pressed the buttons for Namjoon's apartment. After some seconds he heard the buzzer and pushed open the door.
"You comin'?" he asked the still staring mathematician, making the younger pop out of his thoughts.
"Sure," the latter answered and followed him to the elevator.
When the doors opened, Namjoon already waited for them in the doorframe, gesturing them to come in.
"Get dressed," the programmer ordered and pointed over to the coffee table with the two neat stacks of clothes.
"Do we have special names for the mission?" the crimson asked curious while he stripped off his clothes.
"I wanted to discuss this, too," Namjoon replied and pulled the black turtleneck over his head, "It might feel a little strange, but I'd suggest using different names, just in case I miss anything in terms of the security system."
"I've always worked with nicknames," the oldest told them, "Sometimes it simply was our profession, but mostly I was called Suga."
"Okay," Taehyung said exited, "Then Namjoon will be brain and I'll be V."
"V?" the elders asked synchronously, turning around to the youngest.
"For our victory," the crimson grinned and made a peace sign.
Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and fixed the watch around his arm over the sleeve. If their youngest needed the feeling to be in a movie, he would be the last one to object. On his first job he had felt like that, too. It had been a project under Zico, who had also given him the name Suga, justifying it with his white as sugar skin. Having The King call him sugar had been nothing he had appreciated, but the name stuck with him. Back then, it had been a private safe of someone Zico had wanted gone, but after a few more jobs the barista had become independent and had worked with everyone who consulted him. With the budget of three robberies he had bought the café next to campus and had started as barista to launder the money of his jobs. Yes, Zico had taught him much illegal shit. But he still did not know why The King had this special liking in him. It had always made things easier for him. Well, as easy as it could be for a fourteen-year-old on the dark streets of Seoul.
"Okay," the programmer stopped his nostalgic thoughts, "I'll take my laptop, Taehyung will take the electric cutter and Min has his cracking tools. Come over with me."
In the second room the black-haired handed them two black backpacks with said tools and grabbed a slim, rectangular one that obviously held a laptop. He took three keycards with belt-straps out of one of the many segments of the shelf-wall and handed one to each member.
"This are the jackets we'll wear in the car," the programmer explained when he got three gray jackets from another spot. He unfolded one to show them the mold removal company logo on the chest and back.
"We'll come from the port as mold removal and drive back as mold removal. You got the track in your head, Tae?" He turned towards the crimson.
"Yes, Sir!" said man replied and saluted.
"Good, then let's go!"
They stowed the gloves and hats inside the cargos' pockets and headed to the door. On the way out, Namjoon threw a blue bomber jacket over his shoulders and put on a white cap. Yoongi copied him and grabbed his black leather jacket. Better not to look like a squat team. In the cellar they strolled over to Namjoon's family car and jumped in. It was eight in the evening on the spot.
"Perfect," Namjoon uttered and turned the key.
Yoongi looked at the backseat to see Taehyung plugging in his headset. The boy seemed quite calm considering the situation. Only his wide pupils showed his excitement. With a satisfied expression he turned back to look out of the front window.
After one and a half hour they parked in front of the well-known concrete building, and Yoongi got out of the car to open the heavy metal doors. Like always, they would park Namjoon's car inside.
The other two jumped out, and they got the backpacks out of the trunk and went over to the Ssangyong. The barista opened the trunk and checked the content. The load lifter and plank were already inside as well as the belts for securing the load. Namjoon and him had added a thick net between the driver's cabin and the hold to prevent getting smashed by 675 kilograms in case the driver had to jump the brakes. The net did not cover the whole back. They had left two small gaps on every side, so the two who would secure the load did not have to jump out and go around the car again, but simply had to close the trunk from inside and then crawl to the front.
"Time for the make-up," he heard the black-haired and closed the trunk to go around to the driver's door.
Taehyung opened the small box with the black color and started smearing the thick cream onto the programmer's lower face. With fast movements he covered the taller man's nose, cheeks, chin and mouth in paint. Then he turned around to the blond, gesturing him to come closer. With knowing fingers, the youngest painted his face, too, and handed him the bowl when he was done.
"Would you help me, hyung?"
The blond smiled and dipped his thumb into the cream. Carefully, he applied the color to the crimson's face. When he reached his lips, he tried his best to not get distracted, but he was overly aware of the soft skin under his fingertip. The eyes that scanned his every move attentively did not change this to the better. An annoyed sigh left his lips. By now, he should be used to getting baffled in front of the younger, but it hit him every time like the first time. When he let go of the other's face, he instantly missed the touch. This had to stop, at least for now.
He went over to the shelfs to get an old towel and clean his fingers. Now was the time for cracking, not for daydreaming. Coming back to the car, he handed the towel to the younger and climbed inside the van to sit in the middle, his ass on the cold floor, his legs on both sides of the black box and his back against the net. Unfortunately, the Ssangyong just had two seats in the front. He placed his backpack behind the passenger's seat and waited for the others to join him. A moment later, he heard Namjoon's voice telling the crimson to get in. The latter gave him an amused smile when he climbed from the driver's side over to the passenger's seat.
"Gimme your bag!" the blond demanded and placed said thing behind the driver's seat.
When the programmer jumped in he put his laptop on the mathematician's lap and grabbed for something inside the door. When he turned around to them, he held three white paper masks, one could buy everywhere.
"Put the masks on to cover the black faces and hide your hair under the black hats. Red and blond is a little too showy," he instructed.
His two teammates obeyed, and when everyone was prepped and the switch on the black box was on, the programmer started the engine and drove outside. After Taehyung had closed the doors, they headed off to the city.
When they reached the blind spot, Namjoon slowed down and hit the button to change the license plates while Yoongi pushed the switch to change the van's color back to black. They stripped off the jackets and paper masks and stowed them in the bags on the backside of the two seats.
"Okay, the play is on. Concentration!" the programmer uttered and accelerated.
The backstreet was empty when they reached the bank. It was perfect.
"Wait!" Namjoon shouted when Taehyung tried to grab the door handle, "I first have to disable the cameras."
"Disable?" the crimson asked disbelieving, "Won't they know when their screens turn black?"
"I prepped a program that'll make them loop," the programmer explained and slipped on his gloves. He took the laptop out and started tapping on the keyboard. For one minute the air inside the van was filled with clicking sounds and a nerve-racking tension.
"Now! Get the planks out and move the lifter!" the tallest instructed and jumped out of the car, making his teammates let out the air they had held in.
The two put on their gloves and climbed out, too, to open the trunk and get out the planks. Carefully, they moved the load lifter from the trunk to the upper stairs. While they were prepping the hardware, Namjoon squatted in front of the backdoor, continuing to let his fingers fly over the keys.
Yoongi and Taehyung watched him impatiently when they were done. The younger jumped from one foot to the other as if he was warming up for a sprint.
"Okay, we're safe," the black-haired mumbled and got up, closing his laptop and shoving it into the backpack, which he had put in front of his chest instead of carrying it like normal people would. Better access, the blond thought. Namjoon must have played this through inside his head hundreds of times until perfection.
The programmer put on his hat and pulled on the keycard to open the door. When the keypad turned green, they all let out a sound of relieve. They were in. Namjoon held the door open while Yoongi maneuvered the load lifter to follow Taehyung inside the building. Determined and swift, the youngest led them through the monotone hallways like he lived here. After three more card-secured doors they finally stood in front of the giant, silver vault door.
"This is impressive!" Taehyung blurted, "I saw it on the screens, but standing in front of it in real life is so much more intimidating."
"Yeah, whatever," the barista growled and pushed him aside to get access to the lock. He opened the backpack and got out The Tec's special item. Careful not to damage the sensitive tool, he pulled off the cap.
The crimson laughed, "What is that, hyung? A stethoscope?"
Well, Taehyung was not that far from it, but calling it a stethoscope was an understatement. It was a super sensitive head with three hydraulic suction cups, which would hold the tool in place, and a headset. This equipment would let him hear the sounds of the mechanic lock through the ten centimeters of steel. The Tec was an artist when it came to toys like this.
"With this thing you can hear stones breathe. So, shut the fuck up, so I can do my job!"
Pressing his lips together, the crimson stepped back and gave him space to work. The next minutes would be sweat and concentration. And this time he had no neuroenhancer, that sharpened his perception. Gently, he took the little number disc between his index and thumb and started to rotate it. Slowly he wandered over the numbers waiting for the satisfying click when the first little metal disc would lock with its piston. And there it was, barely audible but clear enough to separate it from background noise. He went back to zero and turned the disk in the other direction. When he cracked vaults, everything around him seemed to fade away until there was only him and the door. It was close to what one could call a peaceful moment, was like meditating. The realization of his tense muscles and the drops of sweat that ran down his temples came after he was done. For now, he was inside his private bubble. When the last click had found its way into his ears, he let go of the number disk and grabbed the wheel, spinning it fast.
"See! Your master," he growled with a smug smile.
The other two awoke from their rigidity.
"V, prep the cutter!" Namjoon instructed. The sound of the nickname made the blond twitch. Though he was used to using other names, it felt strange with the guys.
Nevertheless, the crimson got on his knees and assembled the tool like they had practiced. When Yoongi swung open the heavy door, another gate blocked the way. He took his card and placed it on the reader. A satisfying peep echoed through the wide hallway and the pad went green. Namjoon followed him inside and they started propping the palette on the load lifter. After they were done, the youngest started cutting the ends that lapped over.
Yoongi ignored the shrill noise and looked around.
"Come with me," he heard the black-haired and felt a hand around his shoulder that pulled him over to another stack of bills. "Pack as much of the 50 000 Won bills inside your bag as you can."
Ah, so that's the reason for the big bag. He had been wondering about the size of his backpack. His tool would have fit into his cargo's pocket. He started grabbing the big, foiled bundles of yellow bills.
"Beloved Yinsu," he mumbled and studied the picture of the woman. Maybe, if he had had a mother like Yinsu, he would not stand here today stealing stacks of money with her face. But now it was much too late to regret his past. The future took form inside his head.
When he went over to the shelfs with the loose bundles, Namjoon grabbed his wrist.
"Not those, they're most likely marked."
"Marked?"
The programmer stepped in front of the shelf and ran his hands over the bundles. Randomly he chose two, at least that was what it looked like. Then, he stepped over to a wall and suddenly smashed the two bundles between his palms.
"What the fuck!" the barista shouted, shocked by the sudden clap.
"Take a close look at the wall," the programmer told him, pointing at the free space.
Curious, he came closer and examined the white space. Amazed, he realized there were little dotes of fresh color, shimmering in a soft purple.
"What is this?" he asked and turned around to the programmer.
The latter took one bundle and skipped through the bills until he found what he had been searching for. Between the thin paper stuck a little bag of color, that had obviously burst from the impact, covering all the bills.
"It explodes under light pressure," the black-haired explained, "It's a safety measure in terms of corrupt staff. One would lift a bundle rather than a stack."
Impressed, Yoongi looked up to the programmer. Even he, a professional safecracker, had not known this shit. Fortunately, he had never tried to steal those. Marked money was useless.
In the next moment it became soothingly quiet and the two tuned around to the crimson.
"I'm done," the latter said and began to disassemble the cutter.
Namjoon pulled a tape measure from one of his pockets and went around the palette. Better safe than sorry. If anything had been wrong with the calculation, they could at least leave with some money under their arms.
"Perfect, let's get out," the programmer announced and grabbed the lifter to maneuver it out into the hallway.
His teammates followed him and Yoongi closed the inner door and finally the vault door, stirring the wheel back and turning the number disk.
Namjoon and Taehyung had already reached the end of the wide but short hallway when the deafening sound of an alarm went off.
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