Chapter 10: The Heist
The next day, Darien practiced opening some Teleric brand locks and rewiring a fake Haeffer security panel. He had the feeling that if he screwed this job he would not have to worry about another one for the rest of his life, and he knew that was a bad thing. Max timed him. By the end of the day Darien knew the skills by heart. It was one hour before he had to leave that Darien started to get nervous. He paced back and forth across his apartment floor and mumbling his alarm procedure over and over to himself. His rat paced with him.
"Easy Fawkes. You're bound to fall through the floor," joked Max.
"Uh? Oh, sorry," Darien sat down on the couch, "It's just that..." he paused.
"...you haven't been on a big job like this in awhile and you're a little nervous. I understand. Remember that time we hit that business up on 37th street? I think I was so nervous that I was sweating for a week before and after!"
"Man, how old were we? Twenty-two, twenty-three? It seems like forever ago."
"I know. Listen pal. Just take it easy. This job we'll be over before you know it. Here read a book."
Max tossed him the copy of The Time Machine that Claire had gotten him for Christmas. Truth be told, Fawkes was nervous, but not about the job. He knew he could handle it, easy. What he was nervous about was that Hobbes and the Keeper would find out. Not that they would tell the Official, but because he would lose the trust with them that had taken two long years to build. He felt like he was disappointing them, like a piece of himself would die whenever he would look at them and lie about his Christmas vacation, and they wouldn't even know. That is what was really bothering him. Not that he would tell Max. There was no way Max would understand. Darien couldn't remember if Max even had friends that weren't involved in some sort of illegal operation. Darien pushed these thoughts aside. He couldn't worry, not right now. He had to concentrate on the night ahead of him. Fawkes decided to start reading The Time Machine. As he started reading through it he realized he was beginning to really enjoy it. All of a sudden, Max woke him from his trance.
"Time to go."
"Already?"
"What do you mean already? You've been reading that damn book for the past forty-five minutes."
"Huh," Darien scratched his head and marked his place.
"Have fun. I'll be leaving here in a few minutes. The other men will drop you off at the park after the job," Max
"Thanks. Uh, bye," Darien gave a little wave and headed out the door.
"Good luck!" Max called out.
Darien closed the door behind him. There was no turning back now.
Darien took an unusual route to get to the base building, just to make sure no one was following him. When he got there, all the other men were in their gear and ready to go. Darien changed into his "uniform" as soon as he arrived. When they were ready to start, Fawkes noticed some different faces and figured they were there for extra security.
The men waited in silence for a few minutes, waiting for someone to give the orders. Finally one of the scientists, Hauke, started addressing the group.
"Alright. Smith, Jones. Make sure the car is warmed up and ready to go. I will radio you when the package is safe and secure. Scott, Barbie, keep a close lookout. Very close. Sommers, Boldger, is our gear ready?"
The two men nodded.
"Arken...Arken...Arken!"
Darien had been looking around the building and not paying too much attention to the little science nerd.
"Oh, sorry. What?"
Hauke sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Are you ready?"
"Ready? Oh yeah. I'm fired up, all set, on my mark. Hey there's the green flag! Let's go, go, go!"
"Right," Hauke rolled his eyes again, "Face masks down gentlemen. We're moving out."
The group of men made their way out of the building. Smith and Jones stayed behind to study the escape route map, and a few of the new faces stayed with them. There was absolutely no talking anymore. Hauke directed everyone with hand signals. The group made their way to the back of the target building and found the outside security panel. Hauke motioned to Darien. It was time for his work to begin. Carefully, Darien unlocked and opened the panel. The inside was exactly what he had thought it would. He double checked the current placement of all the wires to make sure everything was where it should be. After confirming to himself that it all looked normal he began rewiring the circuitry.
'All right, Fawkes. Just take it easy, get through this, and then you can go home and call the cops," he thought, 'NO! Not the cops, HOBBES! You're going to call Hobbes. Yeah, good, old Bobby Hobbes. Now, the blue wire goes into the slot which is parallel to the gray button on the left hand side of the lower right section. Voila! Good, no alarms so far. Now, Take the pale green wire and place it in the upper left corner of the fourth quadrant in the middle. NO! The FIFTH quadrant! The FIFTH one! Come on, man. Pull it together. Okay the pale green wire goes in the upper left corner of the FIFTH quandrant in the middle. Now, take the ends of the black and yellow wires, tie them together, and place them right behind the wiring of the red button in the first quadrant. Bingo! You da man! Who's the man? Oh I believe that would be me. Yes, I am the man!"
Darien closed and relocked the panel. He slowly turned to Hauke and gave the thumbs up. Just then, a figure started coming towards them, with a flashlight.
"Hey! Who's there?" the man yelled out, "Come out of their you little punks or I'll call the police!"
It was an older man, around the Official's age, but much thinner. He was in a jogging suit and was coming closer. All Hauke had to do was look at Scott and Barbie. The two "guards" walked calmly towards the old man. They reached him and immediately knocked him down. The covered his mouth so he could not cry out and then proceeded to unmericilessly beat him. Darien couldn't bear to watch and turned and faced the building wall. It what seemed like an eternity, the old man stopped struggling and stopped breathing. Scott and Barbie dropped his lifeless body on the ground and rejoined the others. Hauke motioned for them to go to the side door. He looked at the obviously shaken up Darien and whispered.
"It's his fault anyway. What kind of guy jogs this time of night anyway?"
Somehow, Darien didn't find that reassuring. Fawkes performed the rest of his tasks without thinking. The situation with old man seemed to take away all his thoughts about what was going on. They made their way over the outside entrance and Hauke handed Darien the key. Sure enough, it worked. They quickly proceeded over to the main office where the main security panel was located. The office was open, just like Max and said it was. Darien made his way inside and with almost unsettling accuracy disabled the main security panel in what seemed like no time at all. He waited a few seconds before addressing his "team mates".
"We're clear," he said with a huge sigh of relief.
"Perfect," said Hauke, "It's off to the seventh floor men. Why don't we take the elevator."
The whole group headed to the main hall, pressed the button, and waited for the elevator to come down. Darien didn't think anymore. He didn't want to. All the life seemed to be drained out of him and became another trained robot of this "Mr. X", as Darien called him. Everything that was happening seemed like it was part of dream. There was one thought that kept popping back into his head: he had let that man die. He had turned his back on him and essentially ignored it. Every time that evil, little thought came into his head, he pushed it out. This was not the time, nor the place, to reflect on what had happened. He would save it for later. The elevator beeped, and the door opened.
"Let's go gentlemen," said Hauke and the whole crew climbed into the unusually small space.
They went up calmly listening to the somewhat annoying elevator music. The three scientists were chatting about their upcoming part in the assignment and Scott and Barbie were chatting about what they had had for dinner the night before. Darien leaned against the wall, sulking in the corner with his arms crossed. He just wanted to get out of there and go home. He had just realized why he had preferred doing solo jobs. The elevator beeped. They were on the seventh floor. They walked in a line down a small corridor and stopped right in front of a thick, steel door labeled 'Room 713'. Darien immediately spotted the Teleric lock adourning the outside. He didn't have to ask. Darien reached into the small backpack he was wearing and pulled out a nice looking, soft case. He carefully opened it and carefully looked at the shining lock-picking tools inside. They were Darien's pride and joy, of thieving that is. He had always washed them after every job to keep them new, and to try and remove any evidence, of course. After making sure all the pieces were accounted for he selected a dinner knife sized tool with a hook on the end, and a wire thin, straight tool. It didn't take very long before he heard the right 'click'. Darien went back into his case and selected another large object with a hook. A few wiggles and bends and 'POP', the lock was off.
"Good job, Arken. Your part is done. Now you rest easy."
"Whatever," Fawkes replied, and he carefully placed his tools back in their case and then secured the case in his backpack. He started to enter the room when Scott stopped him.
"They want you to wait here. You're not allowed to see the 'package'."
Darien shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the opposite wall. Hell, the less he knew, the better. Fifteen minutes later Hauke, Sommers, and Boldger, followed by Scott and Barbie, came running out of the room.
"Five minutes, 48 seconds encounting! Let's move!" Hauke cried.
This time the troupe didn't wait for the elevator, but flew down all seven flights of stairs. In an amazing two minutes and 57 seconds they were back in the main lobby. The men raced out the same door they had used as an entrance and ran outside. When they got outside Darien noticed that the body of the old man was no longer there.
"Uh, hey, guys?"
"There's no time Arken. We've gotta moved," Hauke yelled at him.
"Yeah, but, uh, where's the body?"
"What?"
"The old man. Where's the body?"
"Who cares? Maybe he wasn't dead to begin with. Now let's go. I've already alerted Smith and Jones. They're waiting for us on the other side of the base building. Fastest way is to go right through it. Come on."
The men ran through the base building and were directly in the middle when they heard,
"FEDERAL AGENTS! HANDS IN THE AIR! NOW!"
They were suddenly surround by feds on all sides. Without hesitation the men drew out guns and started firing. The feds fired back. Darien hit the ground, injured. A stray bullet had found its way into his leg somewhere. Another hit him in the shoulder. He reached up with his good arm and felt the warm, sticky blood that was starting to slowly poor out of his shoulder, dangerously close to his heart. He reached down and felt the same warmth and stickiness oozing from his leg.
"Aw crap...," he moaned, "Why didn't I get a gun?"
The gunfire seemed to stop as soon as it had started. Darien looked up and the federal agents subdoing his former "teammates". In a split second there was a fed on his own back, pressing a gun into his head.
"HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE'EM PUNK! NOW! SLIDE'EM UP THERE!"
"Hey, I'm injured man. Can you call an ambulence?" Darien's voice was muffled and stuck behind the floor and his face mask. He was also losing consciousness and couldn't seem to clearly make out the voice that was screaming at him.
"I'LL CALL AN AMBULENCE WHEN I'M GOOD AND READY HOTSHOT. ARE YOU ARMED?"
"No," replied softly, "but I am having trouble breathing."
"YEAH, WELL YOU'RE ALSO BLEEDING ALL OVER THE FLOOR SMART ASS. THESE STAINS ARE NEVER GONNA COME OUT."
"Can...I...turn around...and take off...this mask...so that I...can breathe?" Darien whispered. He was starting to have severe problems with his breathing and was feeling extremely dizzy on top of it. Darien had lost all sense of what was going on around him. All that existed for the moment was Darien, himself, and the on top of him.
"ALRIGHT PUNK. BUT ANY FUNNY STUFF AND YOU'RE GONNA REALLY BE WISHING FOR THAT AMBULENCE."
The man helped Darien turn over and slid off his mask.
"Fawkes?!!"
Darien slowly forced his eyes to focus on the man staring at him. It was Hobbes. Darien coughed.
"Hey partner," he said weakly.
"What the hell are you doing here? Aw hell Fawkes! You're bleeding partner! AMBULENCE! I NEED AN AMBULENCE NOW!!!! Take it easy partner. Breathe in and out. In and out. That's it you're gonna be just fine. And, as soon as your little punk-ass gets healed, I'm gonna kick it again and make you tell me what you're doing here. WHERE'S THAT AMBULENCE??!!!"
"It's on its way sir," someone called out.
"So, how was your...vacation?" Darien mumbled. Hobbes was busy staunching his partner's wounds and making sure Fawkes hadn't been shot anywhere else, but the leg and shoulder. He really wasn't paying attention to what Darien was saying.
"Uh, oh yeah it was fine. IS THAT AMBULENCE HERE YET?" Hobbes screamed again.
"It just pulled up now, sir."
Darien could barely hear the sirens.
"How...did you get...here?" questioned Darien.
"Hmm? Hey, buddy I'll explain everything later, but right now your chariot awaits."
"Hobbes, what about...the quicksilver in my blood stream. If I go to the hospital..." The exertion sent Darien into a coughing fit.
"Hey, there. Take it easy Fawkes. I'll call Claire and tell her what's up, okay? Just enjoy the ride. I'll be following right behind."
Just then, the EMT's came over and loaded Darien onto a stretcher. They took his vitals, quickly patched his wounds and gave him some oxygen. The last thing Darien saw was Hobbes' worried expression. Then, he passed out.
The next day, Darien practiced opening some Teleric brand locks and rewiring a fake Haeffer security panel. He had the feeling that if he screwed this job he would not have to worry about another one for the rest of his life, and he knew that was a bad thing. Max timed him. By the end of the day Darien knew the skills by heart. It was one hour before he had to leave that Darien started to get nervous. He paced back and forth across his apartment floor and mumbling his alarm procedure over and over to himself. His rat paced with him.
"Easy Fawkes. You're bound to fall through the floor," joked Max.
"Uh? Oh, sorry," Darien sat down on the couch, "It's just that..." he paused.
"...you haven't been on a big job like this in awhile and you're a little nervous. I understand. Remember that time we hit that business up on 37th street? I think I was so nervous that I was sweating for a week before and after!"
"Man, how old were we? Twenty-two, twenty-three? It seems like forever ago."
"I know. Listen pal. Just take it easy. This job we'll be over before you know it. Here read a book."
Max tossed him the copy of The Time Machine that Claire had gotten him for Christmas. Truth be told, Fawkes was nervous, but not about the job. He knew he could handle it, easy. What he was nervous about was that Hobbes and the Keeper would find out. Not that they would tell the Official, but because he would lose the trust with them that had taken two long years to build. He felt like he was disappointing them, like a piece of himself would die whenever he would look at them and lie about his Christmas vacation, and they wouldn't even know. That is what was really bothering him. Not that he would tell Max. There was no way Max would understand. Darien couldn't remember if Max even had friends that weren't involved in some sort of illegal operation. Darien pushed these thoughts aside. He couldn't worry, not right now. He had to concentrate on the night ahead of him. Fawkes decided to start reading The Time Machine. As he started reading through it he realized he was beginning to really enjoy it. All of a sudden, Max woke him from his trance.
"Time to go."
"Already?"
"What do you mean already? You've been reading that damn book for the past forty-five minutes."
"Huh," Darien scratched his head and marked his place.
"Have fun. I'll be leaving here in a few minutes. The other men will drop you off at the park after the job," Max
"Thanks. Uh, bye," Darien gave a little wave and headed out the door.
"Good luck!" Max called out.
Darien closed the door behind him. There was no turning back now.
Darien took an unusual route to get to the base building, just to make sure no one was following him. When he got there, all the other men were in their gear and ready to go. Darien changed into his "uniform" as soon as he arrived. When they were ready to start, Fawkes noticed some different faces and figured they were there for extra security.
The men waited in silence for a few minutes, waiting for someone to give the orders. Finally one of the scientists, Hauke, started addressing the group.
"Alright. Smith, Jones. Make sure the car is warmed up and ready to go. I will radio you when the package is safe and secure. Scott, Barbie, keep a close lookout. Very close. Sommers, Boldger, is our gear ready?"
The two men nodded.
"Arken...Arken...Arken!"
Darien had been looking around the building and not paying too much attention to the little science nerd.
"Oh, sorry. What?"
Hauke sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Are you ready?"
"Ready? Oh yeah. I'm fired up, all set, on my mark. Hey there's the green flag! Let's go, go, go!"
"Right," Hauke rolled his eyes again, "Face masks down gentlemen. We're moving out."
The group of men made their way out of the building. Smith and Jones stayed behind to study the escape route map, and a few of the new faces stayed with them. There was absolutely no talking anymore. Hauke directed everyone with hand signals. The group made their way to the back of the target building and found the outside security panel. Hauke motioned to Darien. It was time for his work to begin. Carefully, Darien unlocked and opened the panel. The inside was exactly what he had thought it would. He double checked the current placement of all the wires to make sure everything was where it should be. After confirming to himself that it all looked normal he began rewiring the circuitry.
'All right, Fawkes. Just take it easy, get through this, and then you can go home and call the cops," he thought, 'NO! Not the cops, HOBBES! You're going to call Hobbes. Yeah, good, old Bobby Hobbes. Now, the blue wire goes into the slot which is parallel to the gray button on the left hand side of the lower right section. Voila! Good, no alarms so far. Now, Take the pale green wire and place it in the upper left corner of the fourth quadrant in the middle. NO! The FIFTH quadrant! The FIFTH one! Come on, man. Pull it together. Okay the pale green wire goes in the upper left corner of the FIFTH quandrant in the middle. Now, take the ends of the black and yellow wires, tie them together, and place them right behind the wiring of the red button in the first quadrant. Bingo! You da man! Who's the man? Oh I believe that would be me. Yes, I am the man!"
Darien closed and relocked the panel. He slowly turned to Hauke and gave the thumbs up. Just then, a figure started coming towards them, with a flashlight.
"Hey! Who's there?" the man yelled out, "Come out of their you little punks or I'll call the police!"
It was an older man, around the Official's age, but much thinner. He was in a jogging suit and was coming closer. All Hauke had to do was look at Scott and Barbie. The two "guards" walked calmly towards the old man. They reached him and immediately knocked him down. The covered his mouth so he could not cry out and then proceeded to unmericilessly beat him. Darien couldn't bear to watch and turned and faced the building wall. It what seemed like an eternity, the old man stopped struggling and stopped breathing. Scott and Barbie dropped his lifeless body on the ground and rejoined the others. Hauke motioned for them to go to the side door. He looked at the obviously shaken up Darien and whispered.
"It's his fault anyway. What kind of guy jogs this time of night anyway?"
Somehow, Darien didn't find that reassuring. Fawkes performed the rest of his tasks without thinking. The situation with old man seemed to take away all his thoughts about what was going on. They made their way over the outside entrance and Hauke handed Darien the key. Sure enough, it worked. They quickly proceeded over to the main office where the main security panel was located. The office was open, just like Max and said it was. Darien made his way inside and with almost unsettling accuracy disabled the main security panel in what seemed like no time at all. He waited a few seconds before addressing his "team mates".
"We're clear," he said with a huge sigh of relief.
"Perfect," said Hauke, "It's off to the seventh floor men. Why don't we take the elevator."
The whole group headed to the main hall, pressed the button, and waited for the elevator to come down. Darien didn't think anymore. He didn't want to. All the life seemed to be drained out of him and became another trained robot of this "Mr. X", as Darien called him. Everything that was happening seemed like it was part of dream. There was one thought that kept popping back into his head: he had let that man die. He had turned his back on him and essentially ignored it. Every time that evil, little thought came into his head, he pushed it out. This was not the time, nor the place, to reflect on what had happened. He would save it for later. The elevator beeped, and the door opened.
"Let's go gentlemen," said Hauke and the whole crew climbed into the unusually small space.
They went up calmly listening to the somewhat annoying elevator music. The three scientists were chatting about their upcoming part in the assignment and Scott and Barbie were chatting about what they had had for dinner the night before. Darien leaned against the wall, sulking in the corner with his arms crossed. He just wanted to get out of there and go home. He had just realized why he had preferred doing solo jobs. The elevator beeped. They were on the seventh floor. They walked in a line down a small corridor and stopped right in front of a thick, steel door labeled 'Room 713'. Darien immediately spotted the Teleric lock adourning the outside. He didn't have to ask. Darien reached into the small backpack he was wearing and pulled out a nice looking, soft case. He carefully opened it and carefully looked at the shining lock-picking tools inside. They were Darien's pride and joy, of thieving that is. He had always washed them after every job to keep them new, and to try and remove any evidence, of course. After making sure all the pieces were accounted for he selected a dinner knife sized tool with a hook on the end, and a wire thin, straight tool. It didn't take very long before he heard the right 'click'. Darien went back into his case and selected another large object with a hook. A few wiggles and bends and 'POP', the lock was off.
"Good job, Arken. Your part is done. Now you rest easy."
"Whatever," Fawkes replied, and he carefully placed his tools back in their case and then secured the case in his backpack. He started to enter the room when Scott stopped him.
"They want you to wait here. You're not allowed to see the 'package'."
Darien shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the opposite wall. Hell, the less he knew, the better. Fifteen minutes later Hauke, Sommers, and Boldger, followed by Scott and Barbie, came running out of the room.
"Five minutes, 48 seconds encounting! Let's move!" Hauke cried.
This time the troupe didn't wait for the elevator, but flew down all seven flights of stairs. In an amazing two minutes and 57 seconds they were back in the main lobby. The men raced out the same door they had used as an entrance and ran outside. When they got outside Darien noticed that the body of the old man was no longer there.
"Uh, hey, guys?"
"There's no time Arken. We've gotta moved," Hauke yelled at him.
"Yeah, but, uh, where's the body?"
"What?"
"The old man. Where's the body?"
"Who cares? Maybe he wasn't dead to begin with. Now let's go. I've already alerted Smith and Jones. They're waiting for us on the other side of the base building. Fastest way is to go right through it. Come on."
The men ran through the base building and were directly in the middle when they heard,
"FEDERAL AGENTS! HANDS IN THE AIR! NOW!"
They were suddenly surround by feds on all sides. Without hesitation the men drew out guns and started firing. The feds fired back. Darien hit the ground, injured. A stray bullet had found its way into his leg somewhere. Another hit him in the shoulder. He reached up with his good arm and felt the warm, sticky blood that was starting to slowly poor out of his shoulder, dangerously close to his heart. He reached down and felt the same warmth and stickiness oozing from his leg.
"Aw crap...," he moaned, "Why didn't I get a gun?"
The gunfire seemed to stop as soon as it had started. Darien looked up and the federal agents subdoing his former "teammates". In a split second there was a fed on his own back, pressing a gun into his head.
"HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE'EM PUNK! NOW! SLIDE'EM UP THERE!"
"Hey, I'm injured man. Can you call an ambulence?" Darien's voice was muffled and stuck behind the floor and his face mask. He was also losing consciousness and couldn't seem to clearly make out the voice that was screaming at him.
"I'LL CALL AN AMBULENCE WHEN I'M GOOD AND READY HOTSHOT. ARE YOU ARMED?"
"No," replied softly, "but I am having trouble breathing."
"YEAH, WELL YOU'RE ALSO BLEEDING ALL OVER THE FLOOR SMART ASS. THESE STAINS ARE NEVER GONNA COME OUT."
"Can...I...turn around...and take off...this mask...so that I...can breathe?" Darien whispered. He was starting to have severe problems with his breathing and was feeling extremely dizzy on top of it. Darien had lost all sense of what was going on around him. All that existed for the moment was Darien, himself, and the on top of him.
"ALRIGHT PUNK. BUT ANY FUNNY STUFF AND YOU'RE GONNA REALLY BE WISHING FOR THAT AMBULENCE."
The man helped Darien turn over and slid off his mask.
"Fawkes?!!"
Darien slowly forced his eyes to focus on the man staring at him. It was Hobbes. Darien coughed.
"Hey partner," he said weakly.
"What the hell are you doing here? Aw hell Fawkes! You're bleeding partner! AMBULENCE! I NEED AN AMBULENCE NOW!!!! Take it easy partner. Breathe in and out. In and out. That's it you're gonna be just fine. And, as soon as your little punk-ass gets healed, I'm gonna kick it again and make you tell me what you're doing here. WHERE'S THAT AMBULENCE??!!!"
"It's on its way sir," someone called out.
"So, how was your...vacation?" Darien mumbled. Hobbes was busy staunching his partner's wounds and making sure Fawkes hadn't been shot anywhere else, but the leg and shoulder. He really wasn't paying attention to what Darien was saying.
"Uh, oh yeah it was fine. IS THAT AMBULENCE HERE YET?" Hobbes screamed again.
"It just pulled up now, sir."
Darien could barely hear the sirens.
"How...did you get...here?" questioned Darien.
"Hmm? Hey, buddy I'll explain everything later, but right now your chariot awaits."
"Hobbes, what about...the quicksilver in my blood stream. If I go to the hospital..." The exertion sent Darien into a coughing fit.
"Hey, there. Take it easy Fawkes. I'll call Claire and tell her what's up, okay? Just enjoy the ride. I'll be following right behind."
Just then, the EMT's came over and loaded Darien onto a stretcher. They took his vitals, quickly patched his wounds and gave him some oxygen. The last thing Darien saw was Hobbes' worried expression. Then, he passed out.