Crossover Earth '98
A Simple Robbery
by
Scott F. Couchman
Life's a bitch when a plan falls apart.
The punk at the window screamed, "Everybody down! This is a robbery!"
There I was minding my own business when these two punks try to rob my bank. I mean, they just walked in, waited in line to get to the tellers, then shoved shotguns in the employees' faces. No style, no panache, just brute force.
And since I was about to rob it myself, these punks benefit from my skills. I had just cut the lines to the panic buttons and turned off the cameras. Tick and Tock, my hired help, were in place to take this place for all it was worth. I subvocalized to them to act like the other people and lay on the ground.
The punk at the window was screaming for the teller to put the money in a sack. It was sad. I guess it was time for me to make my appearance. I walked over behind the clerk, pushed her blubbering form to the ground and deactivated my chameleon field.
The punk found himself staring at a man in a black body suit, yellow breastplate, yellow face mask with black slits, and yellow elbow length gloves. Well, actually he just glanced at me. He was staring at the hand shotgun I had pointed at his head.
I tried to be polite. I even gave him a suggestion, "I'd recommend that you drop your cannon, there, if you know what's good for you."
The would-be bank robber blew his cool and fired his shotgun at me. I skidded along the freshly polished floor. I could hear the two punks screaming at each other and the people in the bank. Obviously, I wasn't part of their "well laid" plans.
While they were arguing about how deep they were in it, I got back up, wincing at the pain. Shotgun blasts at pointblank range hurt! I ran a quick inventory of my person to make sure I wasn't bleeding or anything, then strode back to the window.
I stopped the punks' arguing by blowing the head clean off of the fool who shot me. Bone, blood and wet, slippery gore sprayed across the customers lying on the floor. The edge my shotgun blast clipped a couple of people. Next time, I have to remember to narrow the choke. Collateral damage was just plain sloppy.
Among the screaming and retching, the second punk just stood there with his mouth open. I took the opportunity to continue my plans.
"Tick, Tock. The plan is still a go. I suggest you carry out your orders." My two flunkies got up from the floor, adjusting their yellow facemasks. The took off their long coats and hopped the counter. Tick and Tock were dressed just like me. If one of them got shot and had to be left behind, the police may never know if they caught the real Saber or not.
As the doppelganger Sabers started gathering the tellers money, I focused my attention back on the monkey wrench to my plans. The punk had managed to shut his mouth and was thinking about whether he could take me or not.
"Drop it or join your friend," I said cordially.
Must be a high school graduate, because he actually laid down the shotgun and lay on the floor, face down. As he started to weave his fingers behind his head I noticed movement from the left by the door. It looked like the senior citizen the bank hired as security was trying to grow a backbone.
I allowed him to raise his pistol before I turned and fired. This time I remembered the choke. His hand and the pistol bore the brunt of the attack. It reminded me that I haven't had a really good hamburger in a long time. He should thank me. Permanent disability pays so much better than ordinary retirement.
"Tick, Tock, let's hurry it up, all this screaming is really starting to give me a headache. And besides, some supposed hero with super hearing is bound to hear the racket we've made here today."
"Yes, sir."
"Almost done, Saber."
I figured I might as well address the crowd, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sorry for the mess and the confusion. You see, these two misguided youths stumbled into my own plan to make a withdrawal from this prominent establishment. Now I couldn't very well let them get away with it.
The noise was down to a soft whimpering. "The plan did not call for the blood I was forced to shed here today. It really was going to be a simple operation, and no one should have gotten hurt.
"So, please," I placed my foot on the neck of the living punk, "leave the major crimes to the professionals." I raised my foot and delivered a precise kick to the punk's neck. He'd probably be out for hours. I hooked my foot under his discarded shotgun and flipped it into my hand, then hung it over my shoulder.
"Now I assume, the rest of you will not try anything heroic like the guard? Good. Tick, Tock, how are we coming?"
Tick replied, "we got everything from the cart, the tellers and the business customers. Tock is gathering what he can out of the vault. You want us to get the valuables from the people now, boss?"
People were starting to go into hysterics. I analyzed the situation and decided we had outstayed our welcome. "No, let’s consider it a gift to these fine people from the amateur robbers. Tell Tock we're leaving."
Tick moved to the front door to lock the door then jam the lock. Tock gathered the bags and moved to the back.
I addressed the crowd, "Thank you for your time, everyone, we will be leaving you now. The communications have been cut and the doors will be sealed. But don't fear, the noise here will surely draw the attention of the authorities."
Tick moved to join Tock and waited for my signal. As I turned to leave, I noticed a lovely young lady sobbing hysterically.
"Miss... Miss?" It takes her a moment to gain the composure to raise her head to me. "As soon as someone let's you out of here, and if you want to save that blouse, I'd highly recommend getting some soda water on that stain. Brains are a bitch to get out of silk."