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Renata arrives at work for her first day as Assistant Branch Manager. It was
a short road to get here, but she had experience as a teller all throughout
college, and successfully completed the accelerated leadership and
management program. She doesn’t even think about the NSD anymore. That’s all
behind her. It happened a year ago. This is a good, solid job, and she loves
the people. This particular branch feels more like a small town bank than a
national chain. There’s a much bigger and nicer branch not too terribly far
from here, and this one doesn’t open until 10:00, for some reason, so
customers typically prefer the new one. She sees a lot of the same people
every day. A couple of elderly people just come in to chat, because they’ve
made friends with the tellers and managers over the years, and they don’t
have much else going on.
As she’s rounding the corner, she looks up at the second story window. The
white lamp is sitting on the sill, proving that the bank is safe to open.
Her manager, Lazar is waiting for her with his usual cup of orange juice.
“How’s the tea?” she asks.
“Little too hot,” he replies. He spotted the white lamp too, and has not
seen anything suspicious this morning. He inserts his key into the lock
while Renata inserts hers. After they hear the third click, he opens the
door, and lets her in. “Especially for this weather,” he adds. That’s not in
the script, but it’s not a signal that anything’s wrong either. “Do you
remember where it is, and what the code is?” he asks.
She’s already walking over to the credenza. She reaches underneath, and
opens the keypad panel. “You think I would forget it one day after
training?” She punches in her code.
“Just checking. I know how stressful it can be. I was as nervous as all hell
the first time I got opening role,” he replies as he’s inputting his own
code on the manager keypad. The alarm is disabled. “Do you hear that?”
Renata perks up her ears. It sounds like a motorcycle, which on its own
would be fine, but it’s blueshifting. “Morning glory.”
“Hit the alarm! I’ll get the security gate!”
Renata runs for the counter, and jumps over it like a tracer. She slams her
hand on the button with just enough time to look up and see the motorcycle
crash through the glass doors before the gate can come down, and plow
straight into Lazar. She’s torn now. Does she escape to the panic room, or
does she try to help her boss? He’s a good guy, and doesn’t deserve this.
He’s the number one reason why their few customers are so loyal. The
motorcyclist probably wasn’t trying to hurt him; he just couldn’t reroute.
He only wants the money, which he can’t get yet. The vault is on a
time-lock, and the registers aren’t filled yet. This was an absolutely
stupid time to rob a bank.
Before Renata can react, the motorcyclist stands up, having barely suffered
a scratch apparently. He leaves his dark helmet on, and looks around to find
his bearings. When he sees Renata, he pulls out a gun, and trains it on her.
It doesn’t look like he’s going to ask any questions. Before he can squeeze
the trigger, though, a shot rings out from outside, and he gets hit in the
arm. He drops the gun. A second man enters the bank. He walks straight for
the motorcyclist, and shoots him in the head without a second thought.
Just because these two weren’t on the same side—or at least not
anymore—doesn’t mean Renata is in the clear. This second guy is not her
hero. He does look familiar to her, though. Who could it be? Or is it just
the adrenaline. Out of options, she holds up her arms, and hopes that he
does have questions for her.
The man holsters his weapon behind his back, and holds his own hands up too.
“Whoa, it’s okay, Miss Granger, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Funny he should say that. Knowing her name implies that he and this other
guy planned to rob the place together, and they had some sort of falling
out, or one of them wanted more than the other. Even so, she must know this
guy. Where would she know him from? “I’ve seen your face,” she points out.
It’s not the smartest thing she could say in this scenario, but it’s the
first thing she thought of.
“Yes,” he agrees. “You know my face. I’m Quidel. Quidel Jesperen. We met at
that train station? With the deadly gas?”
Oh. Right. “They told me you died.”
“They told me the same thing about you. I guess they didn’t want us knowing
that we both still worked for the NSD.”
“I don’t work for the NSD,” she insists.
He looks around at the ceiling. “Don’t you?”
“What are you doing here? What is going on?”
He points over her shoulder. “Some very dangerous things are kept in those
safe deposit boxes. Some chemicals, some weapons...more to the point, some
information. You’ve been keeping an eye on it, apparently without even
knowing it. It’s been discovered. This whole place is compromised. That
silent alarm I’m sure you pushed, it was disabled. Well, it wasn’t really
disabled, but all comms are being blocked; even hardlines.”
This doesn’t make any sense. Renata’s mom helped her get this job after she
decided she wanted to return to banking. It can’t be an NSD front, and if it
was, why would they let her apply, let alone work here? They kicked her out.
They made that incredibly clear a year ago. “I can’t trust you,” she says
simply.
They hear more motorcycles on approach.
“You’re gonna have to trust someone. They want in that safe deposit room,
and if we can’t stop them, they’ll go through us.”
