Showing posts with label front. Show all posts
Showing posts with label front. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2026

Microstory 2584: Renata Rushes up to Match her Mother’s Stride as They Escape the Bank

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Renata rushes up to match her mother’s stride as they escape the bank. To be fair, she’s the one lugging this heavy thing around. They slip out the backdoor, and head for a black sedan. It’s not the car that Libera drove up with, and it has its own driver, which suggests that she was planning to make off with the device the whole time. But Renata is not going to confront her about this, because right now, they have a job to do. “How are you moving this fast?” she questions.
“You can move just as fast, dear, if not faster,” Libera replies as she ducks into the backseat, and uses hand gestures to urge her daughter to join her quickly. The car speeds off.
“Because I’m a robot?” Renata questions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ren. You’re not a robot.”
“Where to, Madam?” the driver asked.
“Lightwood Safehouse,” Libera answers. A codename, no doubt.
They sit in silence for a moment.
“Don’t you have questions?” Libera poses.
“Did dad know?” Renata responds.
“No.”
“Did you get me into the NSD in the first place, or did you just get me the job at the bank?”
Libera doesn’t speak right away. “I never wanted this life for you, until you grew up. Well, I still didn’t necessarily want it, but I could see that it would be a great fit for you. You’re resourceful, intelligent, and you learn fast.”
“A little too fast,” Renata mumbles under her breath.
“What was that?”
“You thought my job would be safe? You really didn’t know about this thingamajig, and all the other stuff there?”
“I knew there were other things there, but they were supposed to be outdated, outmoded, obsolete, legacy innovations,” she says, almost amusingly repetitively.
“Why does the NSD keep an offsite bank for asset storage? Why aren’t they just stored somewhere in the basement of one of their own facilities.”
“It is an NSD facility. You’re asking why they use it as a front. It’s simple, really. The kind of activity you see at a dark storage site is the same as you’ll see at a normal bank. Strong locks, high security, enhanced surveillance, regular armored vehicles, loading and unloading. It’s unremarkable. You see that kind of thing at a bank, you shrug it off. You see it at a pet store, or a non-descript office building, you start asking questions. It’s not hard to track suspicious activity when you have enough data. That’s what NSD analysts do. They look through footage of our competing nations, and find clues based on atypical or unanticipated behavioral patterns at the city scale.”
“That’s why we’re doing this,” Renata says, making the connection. “We’re generating a narrative by exhibiting a pattern that our enemies are expecting. They were looking for people to walk out of that bank with purpose, carefully carrying a black duffel bag like this one. That’s why that truck has been following us since we left.”
“Nice spot, and that’s exactly right. They were predicting that we would try to sneak out the back with the asset to be as discreet as possible. We’re putting on a show, and clearly they’re watching on the edge of their seats.”
Renata sighs, and looks through the driver’s side window again at the truck that has been tailing them. “I wonder how the boys are doing.”
“We can’t know. Communicating with them would compromise the gambit.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have any more questions for me about my experience with the Division?”
“I don’t think I need your answers,” Renata starts to explain. “You can’t give me the specifics about your missions, and I’m already putting the pieces together in my head. A missed dance recital here, a hidden safe in your home office there. It all makes sense now. There’s not much I need to know that I can’t figure out on my own.”
Libera smiles. “This is why I got you the job at the bank, and why my superiors agreed to it. They wanted to keep an eye on you, yes. I wanted you to be fulfilled, yes. But the most important point is that, if I didn’t help you stay with us, you might go lend your services to someone else. It would be annoying if you wasted your time on the Domestic Affairs Bureau, or the local police, but truthfully, they were worried about you defecting to another country, or something. The bank was supposed to be fairly uneventful, but still engaging, since safety and security would be at the top of your priorities at all times. So while you weren’t expected to get into any fist fights or standoffs, it would still feel like work that matters. And it did matter. All banks serve a purpose. You’re not supposed to know what’s in the deposit boxes, whether you work at a front, or not.”
“I’m not mad. I understand your position. Like I was saying, this explains everything. I’m actually kind of relieved. You weren’t a bad mother...” She can’t believe she’s saying this. “...you’re a hero. If I could think of one decent reason to neglect your child, it would be to protect the whole country. How can I argue with that?”
Libera is smiling even wider now. “You continue to surprise me.”
Renata chuckles, then clocks the truck again. It’s getting closer, which means it might make a move soon. Their driver knows what he’s doing, so she’s not worried. More silence for a few minutes. “Did they really think I would defect?”
“Well, they didn’t think you would run off to Sclovo, or something, but maybe one of our strong allies, like Elbis or Pindor.”
“Well...I should be flattered.”
I would.”
“They’re getting closer, ma’am,” the driver interjects.
“I see that. Scooch over,” she says to Renata. Once the space between them is clear, she turns the armrest down, and places her hand on the panel behind it. It glows in the shape of a hand as it checks her biometrics. The panel slides away so Libera can pull a rifle out. “Are you ready?”
“No.” Renata takes out a gun for herself. “But that hasn’t stopped me yet.”

Friday, January 9, 2026

Microstory 2580: Renata Arrives at Work for Her First Day as Assistant Branch Manager

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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.”