It’s intimidating in every way.
Trust us, it promises,your money is safe here.
We enter.
Gleaming white tiles and arched, vaulted ceilings continue the impressive display.
Sterling points out a thick door on the west side of the hall.“Tegan will be down that corridor, with bank management.”
He explains how the offices upstairs are only accessible via a separate entrance, in case of emergency.It allows this part of the bank to be locked down without affecting regular operation.
“God forbid anyone take a few minutes off while there’s a robbery.”
The curl of his smile feels like a victory.
There’s a fresco on the floor, surrounded by Latin, and I’m sad to say I don’t remember a word of it.
The foyer is vast, tellers lined up behind an ornate brass counter that runs the length of the longest wall.Every employee is dressed to impress.Every surface shines.
This is who you want to trust with your valuables.
This is who Cox trusts.
It’s also, hopefully, where we’ll discover his secrets.
For midday on a Monday, it’s busier than I expected.There’s at least fifty people here.Sterling lets me lead, keeping distance between us, but the feel of him at my back is assuring.
I’m asked to wait, and at twelve on the dot, I watch Tegan cross the floor to greet me.
“Hi, Mia, is it?Lovely to meet you.”
Her fine blonde hair falls perfectly straight along her collarbone, and there isn’t a wrinkle to be seen in her uniform.She meets my gaze easily and smiles freely.She looks more like someone who would offer cookies at a bake sale, not a mastermind.
“Thank you so much for making time for me.”
Tegan smiles.“Of course.”
She gestures in the direction of the offices, and I can’t risk a look at Sterling, but I can see him hovering in my peripheral vision.
Then gunshots pierce through the quiet.
“Everyone on the ground—now!”
A second round of gunfire makes his point.We all drop.
Eight armed men, dressed head to toe in black, burst through the front entrance.
A hulking guy in a tight sweater drags in the guard from outside and throws him to the ground before barricading the door.The guard is pale as his hands and feet are tied.
His radio is ripped from him.
It shatters loudly on the floor.Someone screams.
On the floor beside him are the other two guards, already knocked out.
Another round of shots goes off.
“Empty your pockets!Bags on the ground!”
