The city thrummed with life, the midday sun gleaming off glass skyscrapers and casting long shadows over the bustling streets below. Horns blared in traffic jams, street vendors shouted their wares, and pedestrians weaved around each other, too preoccupied with their routines to notice what was about to erupt in their midst.
Inside a quaint café across from the imposing facade of Wellsbridge Bank, Crimson, the leader, stirred his coffee slowly, his eyes fixed on the bank's front entrance. His reflection in the window revealed the sharp lines of his jaw, but his knuckles, white against the porcelain cup, betrayed the tension simmering beneath his calm exterior.
"Azure, how's it looking from your end?" Crimson muttered into the small mic hidden under his jacket collar.
Azure, the strategist, sat on a park bench across the street, his face buried in a newspaper. He barely moved as he replied, his voice even. "Crowd's normal. No sign of police activity. Just the usual distractions. Lilac's ready in the car."
Crimson gave a small nod, setting down his cup. "Good. Tell Jet to move. We're burning daylight."
At the corner, Lilac, the driver, leaned casually against a sleek black sedan. Her hand drummed a steady rhythm on the hood, though her eyes scanned the surroundings with hawk-like focus. When her earpiece crackled to life, she smirked. "You hear that, Jet? It's go-time. Try not to scare anyone just yet."
Jet, the bruiser, stepped through the bank's heavy glass doors, dressed in a courier uniform with a fake delivery ID clipped to his chest. The hulking man pushed a cart loaded with inconspicuous cardboard boxes, his movements deliberate but non-threatening.
The security guard at the desk barely spared him a glance. "What's that for?"
"Supplies for the upstairs offices," Jet said, his voice gruff but uninterested. The guard waved him through, his eyes already drifting back to his phone.
As Jet disappeared down the hallway toward the restricted area, Crimson crossed the street, the heels of his boots clicking softly against the pavement. Azure folded his newspaper and followed, slipping into step beside him.
"Everyone in position?" Crimson asked under his breath.
Azure glanced over his shoulder briefly. "Amber says she's got the system on a loop. Cameras are blind, alarms are hers. Vault's all Ivory's problem now."
Inside the van parked a block away, Amber, the hacker, tapped furiously at her laptop. Her dyed orange hair glowed in the dim light of the van, and her lips curled into a triumphant grin as lines of code scrolled across the screen. "I'm not a miracle worker. If Ivory screws this up, it's on her."
Crimson and Azure stepped into the bank's lobby, their faces calm but their eyes sharp. Gold, the wildcard, was already inside, standing at the counter and chatting animatedly with a bank teller. Beside him, Ivory, the vault specialist, played along, pretending to be an annoyed customer arguing over a payment discrepancy.
At Crimson's subtle nod, Gold's tone shifted mid-sentence. "And you know what else? This is all just a waste of time." He turned abruptly, pulling a pistol from his waistband and firing a single shot into the air.
The crack of the gunshot was deafening, silencing the room instantly.
"Everyone on the ground! Now!" Crimson barked, his voice cutting through the stunned silence.
Screams erupted as customers and staff dove for cover. Gold vaulted over the counter, grabbing the startled teller by the arm and dragging her out into the open. "Don't try anything stupid, sweetheart, and you'll make it home for dinner."
Jet reappeared from the hallway, his imposing frame blocking the main entrance as he trained his weapon on the crowd. "Phones on the floor! Hands where I can see them!"
Azure, moving with practiced calm, closed the blinds on the large front windows before stepping behind the hostages to tie their hands with zip ties. Crimson stepped to the middle of the room, his weapon steady in his grip.
"You're all going to cooperate," he said, his voice dangerously smooth. "This isn't about you. We're here for the bank's money, not yours. Follow instructions, and this will be over before you know it."
Amber's voice crackled in his earpiece. "You're on the clock, Crimson. Vault access is open, but I can only keep the alarms down for another ten minutes."
"Ivory," Crimson called, jerking his head toward the hallway. "You're up."
Ivory moved quickly, a tool kit slung over her shoulder as she headed toward the vault. Gold leaned casually against the counter, his gun trained lazily on the hostages. "You know," he said, flashing a grin, "for a midday robbery, this crowd's a little stiff. Lighten up, folks. It's not like we're actually going to hurt you."
"Gold," Azure snapped, his eyes narrowing. "Stop talking."
At the vault, Ivory crouched in front of the vault, her fingers flying over the intricate mechanisms. "This isn't the system Amber described," she muttered. "They've upgraded."
"Can you handle it?" Crimson demanded through the comms.
Ivory exhaled sharply, sweat beading on her forehead. "I'll need time."
A sudden commotion in the lobby drew Crimson's attention. A middle-aged woman in the corner began hyperventilating, her frantic movements catching Jet's attention.
"Hey!" he growled, stepping toward her.
Before he could calm her down, she bolted, sprinting for the exit. Jet lunged to stop her, but it was too late—she hit the emergency alarm button near the door.
The shriek of the alarm filled the air.
Amber's panicked voice crackled in Crimson's ear. "The system's been tripped. We've got company incoming!"
Crimson's jaw clenched as he barked orders. "Lock it down. Azure, secure the hostages. Jet, guard the entrance. Lilac, stay ready for extraction."
The robbery had barely begun, and already, the plan was falling apart.