Lucy Hale pulled her car into the bank parking lot and rushed inside before even thinking that she hadn't locked her door. Lucy looked back before deciding to just leave it, but as she turned toward the long line staring back at her she suddenly wished she hadn't decided to leave it be.
Lucy took a spot in line and waited. Five minutes has passed and the line had barely moved, and for Lucy those five minutes seemed like an eternity. Lucy looked at the clock anxiously and bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. She had to get back to the school before her lunch break was over.
"What is taking so long?" Lucy seethed to herself as she looked toward the front of the line. She laid eyes on the teller who appeared to be openly flirting with the man at the window. The man had to be twice her age, he had on what Lucy could only describe as a "dad" outfit.
As the man left the teller's window with a big smile on his face Lucy again looked at the clock and only two more minutes had passed. The line finally sped up a bit more as another teller opened her window right next to the stunning brunette.
As Lucy finally made it to the teller's window she looked up at the beautiful redhead and smiled.
"Hey JoAnna, whose the new girl?" Lucy asked. JoAnna blushed slightly as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Um, that's Shay, college intern from L.A. What can I do for you Luce?" JoAnna asked as she typed up Lucy's info on her computer.
"Just making the withdrawal for my vacation." Lucy said handing JoAnna her info.
"Hey yeah, I can't believe you are doing that. Cancun for Spring Break?" JoAnna said.
"You only live once." Lucy said as she told JoAnna the amount of money she was looking to take out, she looked over at Shay. Lucy shook her head because she could have sworn she saw Shay winking at her.
* * * * * * * * * *
Frank Sheene hated having to do errands, and he especially hated having to do errands that involved standing in line. And it didn't help that the customer in front of him, and all the others who'd gone, were all functionally retarded... how long did it take to put money in for goodness' sake?!
Still, at least his mother wasn't around to tell him to stop fidgeting. Plus the teller he would eventually be dealing with was GORGEOUS - a sloe-eyed coffee-coloured honey. And looking around at some of the other customers, he could tell there were others in the same boat; sighing at numbnuts in the queue who didn't understand the concept of "identification required," rolling their eyes when people made hefty deposits with one-dollar bills, looking at the clock, wondering when the fuck he was going to be able to get the cash in and get out of here.
Frank's eyes skimmed past the door as he looked around the bank floor in boredom. And they would have just kept skimming had the door not opened, letting in sunlight and a pair of long, long legs, going up and up and covered from just above the knee by some lovely silky red material that did an excellent job of clinging to the thighs. Above that was a white top, which was slit open in the front and giving some inches of awesome cleavage an airing. The owner of the legs and the chest had a lovely, slightly anxious face with an inviting little mole on it, framed with stunning blonde hair.
Frank suddenly felt A LOT less bored. And so did all the males in the bank who weren't gay, the ones who weren't with their wives, the ones who *were* with their wives...
...and the guards.
Whatever else was said about Mike and John, they were always alert. Nothing got by them. Especially nothing of a hot female variety (Mike was a happily married man, John on the rebound, but both had enjoyed some one-handed sex with the new teller as an inspiration). So they both noted the new customer as they did with all the new arrivals.
"Nice," Mike said just loud enough for John to hear, as the blonde looked in her expensive-looking handbag and searched a little, a worried expression on her face.
"Might be a little high maintenance," John pointed out.
"You gotta make the effort - eyes on the prize..."
Both guards soon had their eyes on the prize all right, when the leggy blonde hesitantly approached them; it was almost as if she was apologizing. Their standard "No trouble at all" response wouldn't be a lie in this case.
"Welcome to the San Francisco Union Bank," Mike said, willing himself to not look at the young woman's breasts.
"Is there anything we can do for you, miss?" John asked, flitting back and forth between her eyes and her legs. "We're here to help."
"Well... yes," the blonde replied with pleading eyes. "I came to make a withdrawal for a friend of mine, but just when I got in I found I'd forgotten to bring his ID, and I need to call him and I can't do it from my cellphone because I need to charge it so it's at home, so..."
"You can use mine," both guards said together a little TOO eagerly.
"Oh, thank you!" she said, shaking each man by the hand in turn and accepting Mike's phone. "I don't know what I'd have done if I hadn't gotten the money out - he would've killed me..."
"I can't imagine any man staying mad at you for long, miss," Mike chuckled.
"This'll only take a moment," she smiled. "Thank you again." And she walked away, talking into the phone as both guards (and most of the men in the bank) studied the motion of her perfect ass.
After a few moments they returned to studying her front as she came back, handed Mike the phone - and kissed both him and John.
"You're welcome," the guards both said, an instant before both collapsed.
"... and Bingo was his name," Blake Lively said softly (but loudly enough for it to go from the earpiece linked to the box hooked onto her back under the dress to the van outside) through her drug-dosed lips.
It was showtime.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Good girl,” Grace Park said, watching as the alluring image of Blake Lively came into view on the security cameras - and immediately turned towards the guards, her face never quite getting on camera. “They’ll never ID her on just that little bit of chin and her cleavage.”
“I don’t know, her cleavage seems pretty memorable to me,” Jaime Pressly joked as she checked the load on her gun.
“Tell me about it,” Emma Roberts muttered quietly.
Grace didn’t really pay attention to the other girls, her fingers flying over her keyboard as she started to hack into the Bank’s camera systems. It wasn’t THAT hard, but the timing was important. She needed to get those cameras off before Blake was spotted and before anyone else entered. At the same time, however, she had to make sure the guards weren’t looking directly at their monitors, because there’d be a VERY visible distortion when Grace hacked in. Their eyes had to be elsewhere - like on Blake’s fantastic ass.
“She’s talking to guards,” Roselyn Sanchez said from the front passenger seat of the van. “That Chica is making even the gay boys think about bedding her.”
“Just let me know when she gets a phone,” Grace said. She was just about there - only two more commands to enter-
“She’s got one,” Roselyn reported. “Holding it up to her ear now.”
“Fuck, that was fast,” Grace said. She slammed in the last line of code needed, and her computer came alive, slicing in a static shot on all the cameras of whatever they were filming that second. If either of the guards looked at the cameras before Blake could take them out, the whole gig could be up before it even started. “Cameras fixed,” Grace reported.
“Move it, Foxy,” Jaime said, smacking Megan on the back of the head. “Get us in gear!”
“Not until we hear from Blake,” Roselyn snapped.
“It’s going to take 30 seconds to get the van up to the front door-!” Jaime started to argue, but Grace cut them off.
“Shut up!” she shouted, pulling her earbud closer to her ear, as if that would help.
"... and Bingo was his name," Blake’s voice came in loud and clear.
“MOVE!” Roselyn and Jaime cried at once - everyone had an earpiece. Megan squealed the tires of the van as she floored it, getting the lumber black beast across the parking lot well under 30 seconds. The breaks squealed in protest as she brought them to a stop in front of the bank, and Roselyn, Jaime, and Emma all jumped out, already pulling their masks down over their faces.
“... and Bingo was his name?” Grace asked as Megan pulled the van away from the bank just as quickly as she’d pulled it up. “Who the hell thought THAT was a good code phrase?”
“Blake wasn't hired for her mind, okay? Just run the computers, Nerd Girl,” Megan said, parking the van as innocently as possible across the street from the bank itself.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lucy, whose queue was closest to the guards, was about to be served by JoAnna when the guards collapsed; other than Blake, she was just about the closest. The small brunette looked at the redheaded teller in shock and raced over to the men, concerned and puzzled at the actions of the tall blonde who'd been talking to them...
"What is WRONG with -- " she started, and got no further. Blake had turned away from the men, and was sporting a big smile. And a smaller Beretta, aimed right at Lucy.
"Nothing wrong here, miss," she said politely to the wide-eyed young teacher. "Get back in the line."
Lucy stared at the stunner and the gun, her frozen stance broken an instant later by a gunshot from the entrance; she, the customers and the tellers whirled around. Behind her desk, JoAnna was shocked; behind hers, Shay just LOOKED shocked.
"Didja not hear Legs McBlondie there?" called the jumpsuit-clad blonde who'd just fired into the ceiling, flanked by a similarly-clad Latina woman and a teenage girl dressed likewise, carrying two large bags. "She said there's nothing wrong here!"
"We're just your robbers for the morning," Blake said, smiling at them as she relieved the sleeping guards of their guns and joined her comrades, handing one each to Roselyn and Jaime.
"Whoo! You know me so well!" the blonde cackled with a wink, and made to slap Blake's ass in delight - before Miss Lively shot her a Rhona-worthy "Don't even think it" look. Jaime settled for tucking the other gun in her waistband.
JoAnna eyed the other tellers nervously; they had all been trained not to try to be a hero in these kinds of situations, just to trigger a silent alarm they all had. But she was genuinely too afraid to even try and tap it. And the new girl was trembling... "Just keep calm, Shay," she told her. "Play ball and things'll be okay."
"All of you start eating tile like the guys over there!" Jaime shouted. Frank, who'd also noticed how scared Shay looked, and the other customers immediately lay down, most of them with their heads pressed against the floor and doing their best possum impression. But Frank was eyeing each robber - this was like something out of a movie... being in a bank robbed by a bunch of full-on gun-toting hotties (they were all wearing masks, but their bodies and the fact that the foxy blonde was one of them meant they all HAD to have something special under their hoods). There was something about a woman with a gun that really got to him... but there was something about Blake with a gun that was itching at him in particular. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was something.
Frank sneaked another look at the beautiful new teller; what a sweet girl she'd been to the customers before him. The redhead was nice, but that new girl...
Behind the counter, JoAnna squeezed Shay's hand reassuringly and nodded with a nervous half-smile. The teller nodded back, mentally screaming as she saw JoAnna's right foot edge away from her slightly, press down on a panel, and edge back.
"Nothing to worry about," the redhead whispered.
"Now I don't think any of you really wants to be killed for money," Roselyn said as Emma went up to the first teller, opened the lighter bag, held it up to the man with one hand and pointed her gun with the other. "So give generously."
"Please?" Emma added with a smile, which became even more real when the banknotes started flowing in. The girl continued to make her withdrawals along each till, studiously avoiding glancing over to Shay. "And we take coins as well; toll charges are such a pisser these days."
Roselyn had an eye on Jaime as much as on the customers; the guards were no problem because Blake's kiss had been known to keep men out of action for hours (it had not been the first time she'd used that kind of "lipstick"), but Jaime... a very different kettle of fish. She looked like the people in the bank were one big shooting gallery, and even Rhona's threats could only keep a loose cannon like her in control for so long. Roselyn wished that she shared Blake's Drew Barrymore-type dislike of guns; even though the tall blonde was keeping her area covered under her barrel, it was wavering slightly more than the other two. At least her real weapon was in full force; Roselyn noted with amusement that more than a few of the men in the crowd were fixed on various parts of Blake's lively anatomy.
"Thank you and good morning," Emma cooed, taking JoAnna's cash before turning her attention to Shay. "Fill 'er up. You've all been so good so far, don't ruin it."
Shay, hoping her eyes didn't betray how she felt on seeing Emma smiling up at her, rapidly emptied her till. Emma nodded, zipped up the bag and kept the gun on the teller.
"But you got what you wanted!" JoAnna protested, and shut up as Jaime directly targeted her.
"We got *some* of what we wanted." Roselyn pointed out. "The bonanza's down in the vault."
"And YOU get to show me," Emma added, aiming her gun directly between Shay's eyes. "C'mon, we haven't got all day."
"She only just started here... I'll go," JoAnna pleaded, to the surprise of Shay and all the other members. The idea of someone else stepping in to save the "innocent" had never occurred to any of them.
"She made her choice, bitch, and if you don't want us to go from robbery to murder SHUT YOUR ASS UP!" Jaime shouted, saying what Emma wasn't entirely sure she could've.
Shay gave the shaken and now silent JoAnna a grateful look and walked out from behind the desk, Emma's gun on her all the way. "Look after this for me," the latter said, putting the full bag on the floor and shoving it over to Blake, who picked it up with her free hand, not taking her eyes off the cowering customers for a second. "And as for you, tall, dark and foxy - give me the guided tour. Try anything down there and..."
"OK," Shay replied, swallowing. The teller and the armed robber walked towards the back, making their way down the stairs.
"Keep the rest of them occupied," Roselyn told her comrades. "I'm just going to make sure we don't have anyone hidden somewhere thinking about doing a John McClane."
"Believe me, anyone who wants to be a hero is gonna die hard all right," Jaime cackled. "Make that die EASY..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Hayden was sweating over the build up for the evening news; the staff had joked that all the presenters had to do was be able to read the prompters and get the makeup right. That wasn't true; it was about 80%.
Still, as she munched on her M&Ms in the ladies' room Hayden wished Troian was here; if she had been manning the cameras on the set, it would've helped her be as calm inside as she looked outside. It was also too bad she didn't smoke; the building was a no smoking zone, but anything would have helped. She hadn't been so nervous since that time she'd appeared on the cover of "San Francisco" as "The Golden State's Sexiest Reporter."
Hayden was back at her desk, glad that she was about to break for an early lunch, when her phone went off; relieved that it was her cellphone and not an inside line, she answered without glancing at the screen. "Hi there!"
"Hayden?" asked a nervous voice.
"Hey there! What can I do for you?"
"Something's going on around the Union Bank..."
"Really? What kind of something?"
"The kind of something where people keep going in and no one comes out."
Hayden put two and two together and came up with Breaking News. And Ashley couldn't do it because she was out for another story as part of her "Million Dollar Memories" series about San Franciscans' best days of their lives ("People eat that shit up," Ashley had told her)... of course, it might be a hoax, but if it was at least it would get her out of the building.
"How long now?"
"Close to fifteen minutes... think it's something?"
"It might be... can you give me your number?"
One written-down number and a warning to those in the know to watch out for a call from her down at the Bank later, Hayden had gotten a mobile unit and was on the way. This was another reason she missed Troian; Hayden had had experience doing her own camera work, but not much. Still, once she'd gotten to frame it and stood in the right place, and remembered to turn on the mike, she should be okay...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Something's going on around the Union Bank..."
Sitting in her car, Ashley Benson dropped the act and laughed to herself in her own voice.
* * * * * * * * * *
Roselyn saw Emma and Shay head down to the vaults, dropping the hostage act as soon as they were out of sight of the others. Roselyn followed them around the corner, but she stopped at the single locked door that was the manager’s office.
“Grace, you’re sure the cameras are off?” she asked, eyeing the camera rather blatantly pointed at the office door.
“Absolutely,” Grace’s voice came back in Roselyn’s earpiece. “If you’re standing in front of it right now, all that’s being recorded is the same static image of the door that’s been playing half the morning already. You’re clear.”
“This better be worth it,” Roselyn muttered, trying the door handle. Locked, for sure, but that had never stopped Roselyn before. She could’ve just used her gun to shoot the lock, but the longer things went without gunshots, the better, so she pulled an automatic lock pick out of her pocket and crammed the thing into the doorknob. Auto lock picks basically destroyed locks in the process of vibrating the tumblers open, and there’d be no hiding the fact that SOMEONE had broken into the room when Roselyn was done. Rhona didn’t seem to care about that fact, so Roselyn didn’t either - besides, it was use the auto pick, or waste precious time trying to pick it the old-fashioned way.
It took less than a minute for Roselyn to get into the office, a surprisingly simplistic affair, with no personal touches. Roselyn guessed that with the bank manager only being in on specific days, decorating each office wasn’t a priority. Still, there was a desk with a computer, and that’s all that mattered. Roselyn unzipped the front of her jumpsuit and pulled out the thumb drive as she sat at the desk. It took but a movement of the mouse to get the screen to come alive with a password box. Roselyn quickly found a USB port on the side of the hard drive, plugged in the thumb drive, and sat back.
She hoped like hell this thing would work.
* * * * * * * * * *
Once they were out of sight and heading down the passage to the vault, Shay dropped the hostage act.
"Just thought of another reason I'm glad you're along," Emma laughed, increasing her pace but being careful not to shake up the bag too much. "You can get the goodies high up in the vault."
It was true; Shay towered over the teenage safecracker (she was taller than Rhona as well, and in fact Blake - curse her soft, silky hide - was the only member of the gang who literally looked down on her). They were at the door of the vault; a standard thick door, with the two handles on the left side, about three feet apart. But Emma had everything she needed - and in the case of the autodial, something she hoped she wouldn't need - with her listening device to get the combo, the autodialling device, and some other little gizmos (like some more bags, the better to put the actual money in).
As Emma studied the door, she felt something was wrong. She had the thrill of the job inside her, but there was something missing... something that she couldn't go ahead without. It definitely wasn't the tools, it wasn't the company, and she had the time to break in thanks to the other gang members... what was it?
Suddenly Emma knew. "Hold on to this for a sec, would you?" she said casually, handing her bag to Shay. Before Shay could ask what was up, Emma quickly pulled her mask off and flung it aside, kicked off her shoes and unzipped her jumpsuit, stepping out of it the second it fell to the floor and kicking it away to join the other things she'd had on.
Standing before Shay stark naked, she grinned and beckoned for her bag. "Now we're ready."
"You... you're..." the teller/mole stammered, gingerly handing Emma the bag.
"What's the matter? You've seen this before. C'mon, we've got a vault to crack..."
Emma studied the lock on the right side, placed exactly in between the two handles; the digital panel said it was about twenty past twelve. "On a timer, you say... Shay, can you take your eyes off my legs please? Thank you."
Wondering how the girl knew where she was looking, Shay put her eyes back on the door.
"The money goes in here at the end of the working day, right?"
"Well, half an hour after it. We have to let out the staff who aren't going to be down here."
"So the door would be on this timer until about 5:30..." Emma put her hand inside her bag.
"You try and get that thing off you'll get the cops on us," Shay pointed out.
"Oh, ye of little faith," the girl smiled, bringing out a heavily-wrapped package, removing the sheets and revealing a small metal disc. "Getting this thing off is the last thing I want to do. Hope you're using an old-fashioned watch..."
Emma placed the magnetised disc directly next to the lock so that they were touching, and both watched as the screen flickered, the numbers scrambling. "Guaranteed to fuck up any circuitry going - a bitch if you're watching 'Pretty Little Liars' or something..."
"I'm a '90210' girl myself," Shay admitted.
"...but just what the doctor ordered for making locks think it's later than it is." Emma plucked the disc away, with the screen now flashing 00:00. "Now, we just punch in the 'right' time with a little extra for leeway..."
She tapped in 17:36 and pressed "set." Then crouching by the large tumbler in the centre of the door, Emma put on her earpiece and started to slowly turn the dials, listening for the clicks. Shay understood - Emma had screwed up the timer inside the vault, but she still needed the combo to open the door. Otherwise, it would have to be autodial. And *that* would set off bells.
Instinctively she took a hold of the upper handle; Emma would be going for the lower one once she'd gotten the six figures in the combo and then they'd both pull the handles downwards, as Emma had specified. On reaching 34 left the girl broke off briefly to give her colleague a thumbs-up with her free hand before starting to turn the tumbler in the opposite direction. One down, five to go...
And 22 right... Emma felt an overwhelming calm as the fingers revealed the last key inside. Not a moment to lose - glancing up at Shay, she grabbed her handle as the teller clutched hers, and both yanked their handles down and pulled.
The door didn't budge.
It was a big door, but both had been pulling with all their might - and if it had been unlocked it would have moved slightly and slowly, and they'd have to put elbow grease in, but it would have moved. They'd been out of sync with the handles; probably just a millisecond, but it was enough to keep them on the wrong side - the one without the money.
Shay gulped nervously, thinking over what Rhona would do if this went wrong; and Emma gritted her teeth, trying not to think what Rhona would do.
"Okay, this is just a little roadblock," the girl said calmly. "Shay, I'm going to need those steady hands of yours..."
"Steady? I screwed up! If I'd done it the exact same time as you-"
"You missed the window, these things happen, forget about it and move on."
"But Rhona trusted me..."
"Your main job was to go in undercover here and give us the layout, and you did that. This here is *my* turf; I don't get in the vault I take the fall, not you." Emma took Shay's lovely face in her hands and looked in her eyes. "You said we'd be a good team here, remember? You still trust me?"
"Yeah," Shay replied, trying not to be nervous. "I trust you."
"I should have given you this before you left for luck..." Emma gave Shay a kiss, and was thrilled to sense the teller relaxing a little, a smile coming to her face. "And if Rhona *does* give you shit, I promise she's not going to get away with it."
Looking into Emma's eyes, Shay saw she meant it. Nodding, she faced the door again. "So... how long's each fuse?"
"Not as long as I'd like," Emma admitted, taking out the eight solid pipes of doom and the adhesive for each one, and handing four of them to Shay - two had slightly longer fuses than the other two - and a lighter. "Light the longer ones first; they're exactly a second longer - they should all go up at the same time. You take care of the far side of the door, I got the handles. This should weaken the fucker; any more would blow the door apart but..."
Shay knew. Any more could blow the VAULT apart. It wasn't that big. "I swear I won't mess this one up..."
Each lady pressed a mass of malleable adhesive glob on their respective targets, carefully placed two nitro-filled tubes on them, and wrapped some more adhesive to keep it in place. They flicked the lighters to life, applied the flame to the tubes - and ran like the devil.
Emma and Shay only just had time to crouch and cover their heads in the far corner before the explosions. Emma never liked to use that stuff - it always worked, but it was loud. And in an enclosed place like this deafening. Worst of all, there was always a risk you could damage the goods...
The report's echos and the smoke still lingering, the two got to their feet, Shay instinctively looking at Emma's body. Even in this situation she couldn't help thinkng about how beautiful it was - and thankfully how unmarked it was; there hadn't been any metal pieces landing near them. As Shay reflected, she heard a wolf-whistle.
"Reading my mind," she sighed.
"We're IN!" Emma laughed, having just whistled at the vault door; it was still in the frame, but the door had been damaged. Enough for it to have the hinges wrecked, and enough to bust the handles. Patting Shay, she eagerly ran to the door and started to pull; Shay rapidly joined her, the two tugging and pulling on the door with their teeth grinding on each other. Knowing they were working against the clock helped them pull harder...
"The more we get, the more cash I can fuck you on when this is over," Emma chuckled as the door finally swung open.
Shay Mitchell suddenly found herself feeling very, very damp.
* * * * * * * * * *
JoAnna Garcia had been through six bank robberies in her career, and this was, by far, the most ambitious. Most bank robberies were done by one person who walked into the bank, handed a note to a teller claiming they had a gun, got whatever money the teller had in the cash drawer - and usually a dye pack or some other form of anti-thievery technology - and then fled before causing too much of a stir. All the other bank robberies JoAnna had ever seen were exactly like that.
This? This was something new. It was like something out of a heist movie or a bad TV show or something. An all-girl robbery crew storming a bank and breaking into the vault? Unheard of. Even having taken out the guards and with most of them wearing masks, they had to know there was no way in hell they could get away with this.
“What’s taking them so fucking long?” the abrasive robber with the mask on asked, looking twitchy.
“How should I know?” the super-sexy blonde who’d started this whole thing by knocking out the guards, replied. “I’ve never tried to crack a bank safe before.”
“Well, they damn well better hurry,” the angry one snorted. “Jailbait and the-”
“And the TELLER she took HOSTAGE?” the blonde cut in, looking over at the other tellers, including JoAnna, who ducked her head back down.
“Whatever,” the angry one said, stepping over towards the customers. She stopped over Lucy Hale, one of the regulars JoAnna knew by name, and glared down at the tiny brunette. “You think they’ll be gone long enough for us to have a little fun?”
The masked girl lifted one foot and placed it directly atop Lucy’s ass, making the tiny girl whimper.
“What are you-” the gorgeous one started to ask.
“Nothing, ‘cept admiring a cute little behind. Relax. Not like I’m going to rape her right here in the bank or something.” The was a very pregnant pause that made JoAnna‘s skin crawl. “Unless, you know, this takes THAT much longer.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Roselyn nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Rhona’s silky, all-too-knowing voice come out of the computer. After plugging in the thumb drive, she’d sat there for a minute or two, watching as a green loading bar had appeared over the log-in screen, and quickly gone about filling up.
Still, hearing Rhona’s voice made Roselyn think a few choice words about her employer before yanking out the thumb drive and getting up out of the chair. Whatever it was Rhona wanted with this computer, it was done now. And, with the heist well underway, Roselyn was suddenly only an escape away from being done with Rhona Mitra and her evil ways.
Images of Alicia and Joshua floated past Roselyn’s eyes as she popped out of the office and headed back into the main lobby of the bank. Somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised to see Jaime Pressly standing there, one foot on the ass of a cute little brunette, waving her gun at all the others, complaining about how long things were taking.
"Take your foot off her butt," Roselyn said in a level voice, reflecting that it would have sounded a strange thing to say to anybody other than Jaime.
"A girl's gotta have a little fun while th-- SHE'S down there loading up," the loose cannon grumbled, holding up under the daggers Roselyn and Blake shot at her as she lifted up the foot. On the floor, Lucy exhaled and shivered; she hadn't counted out this freak actually fucking her right there. Or worse.
"The teller's playing ball," Roselyn announced, taking her place alongside the other members, her gun out. "She'll be back safe and sound, and nobody has to get hurt."
"You always gotta ruin my fun, don't you?" Jaime muttered, never taking her eyes off her section of the crowd for a moment. "And it's San Francisco, they wouldn't mind... would you, kid?"
Lucy stayed quiet, focusing on the floor.
"I asked you a question, girlie!"
"I... I'm with somebody..."
"Does he put it up there? I sure as hell would..."
"We don't all have sex on the brain," Blake snapped.
"Wait, are you and the boss lady twins now? And I wasn't talkin' to you, I was asking the little lady there a question. So how about it, sweetass?" she continued to the frightened young teacher.
"I've never... had it there," Lucy managed to say, wishing that this would just END.
"Too bad. Show me," said Jaime, patting the teacher with her heel. "Up with the dress and down with the panties."
Lucy's fear got added to, by indignation and disgust. "In HERE?"
"No, on Fisherman's Wharf. Show me."
"Leave Lucy alone!" JoAnna shouted. "What's she done to you?"
"I said SHUT UP, RED!" Jaime aimed one of her guns at the teller, and trained the other one on Lucy. "And as for you, you're gonna put on a show for me while we're waiting for them to finish down there..."
"Them?" the teller asked, puzzled. "What are you talking about..."
"You are SO FUCKING DEAD, GIRLIE!" The furious and frustrated Jaime was about to cock her pistol when another was cocked. And aimed at Jaime.
"Put it down, Pressly," Roselyn Sanchez said icily.
"PUT THE GUN DOWN OR I'LL SHOOT YOU MYSELF! We're robbing the bank, we're not murderers!"
"Most of us aren't," Blake said softly.
Jaime glared at JoAnna, who was suddenly very glad that the expression "If looks could kill" was just a saying. "This ain't over," she rasped, and lowered the gun.
"You're still not off the hook. Let's see the rump," she continued to Lucy.
Lucy, moaning to herself in disbelief and shame, started to lift her dress up. Blake, Roselyn and JoAnna had disbelief of their own at Jaime's expression; she looked like dinner was about to be served. And when Lucy's legs were uncovered, with her little behind covered by a pair of dark panties, the dangerous blonde was just about licking her lips.
"Bring out the moon, missy miss."
With her trembling hands, Lucy took hold of the top of her panties and started to pull them down; Frank, who was nearby, really wanted to crane over to take a look for himself. He really did. But with that crazy dyke robber still holding a gun on the girl, she might have shot him just for taking a...
The echo of an explosion went through the bank - it had come from the vault. Lucy let out a shocked shout, and so did other customers; in fact, everybody's attention went there for a second, including Jaime's. And Blake's; the tall, sexy blonde had been particularly startled by the explosion. She hadn't jumped, but she had been so startled that she had accidentally fired her Beretta; luckily it hadn't been aimed at any of the hostages or tellers, and the bullet had gone into the floor near the guards (mercifully not into the guards themselves).
"I told you, I don't like guns..." and that was all she had time to shout; as Blake looked horrified at the area she'd fired into, she was suddenly knocked off balance by a young man flying into her, a hand grabbing the wrist holding the gun as her other hand dropped the bag of loot. The two tumbled to the floor, Blake trying to get a man off her for possibly the first time in her life, Frank grunting as he slammed her gun hand into the tiles, trying to get her to let it go.
Frank saw Blake's hand open and the gun be released, and he darted down to grab it; the rules of the game were about to change. The last thought he had in this life was that he was about to become a hero...
A gunshot rang out and there was another scream, this time from JoAnna as Frank's stilled body fell away from Blake. The horrified blonde looked away from him towards Jaime, her gun smoking - and from the look in her eyes, it was as if she'd just swatted a fly.
Blake Lively had been right. Most of them weren't murderers.
* * * * * * * * * *
Emma Roberts and Shay Mitchell had no idea when they'd get the word to clear out, but until then they were busy concentrating on shoving the contents of the shelves into their respective bags as fast as they could. Well, Emma was; Shay, on the other side of the vault, couldn't help glancing over to her colleague, drinking in her beauty. Especially when she dropped a choice bundle or two and bent down to get the loot.
But Shay never stopped getting her side of the vault inside her bag; the greenbacks kept rolling in there, and they were getting pretty heavy. Neither of them had a precise idea of how much they'd gotten, but a haul of about $4-5 million minimum wasn't out of the question. If they managed enough they could even have upwards of a million each; as she kept scooping, her mind was full of visions of Emma gently kissing her on loads of $20 bills.
An instant later, it was filled with Roselyn shouting "IT'S RUSH HOUR!"
Shay and Emma glanced at each other, grabbed their bags, hurriedly zipped them shut and started out as fast as they could. Emma didn't stop to grab her jumpsuit, and Shay didn't remind her.
* * * * * * * * * *
Hayden had considered calling the number the woman had given her, but that might be risky if she was inside the bank; better to wait for when the crisis had passed before tracking down the lady who'd tipped her off. But there was someone she certainly COULD call.
"Hi, Roger... okay, Mr. Zucker, you got me... I'm cooling my heels near the Union Bank. It's usually pretty busy running up to lunchtime, but no one's been coming out for a while. The woman who tipped me off... I didn't get her name because she said she couldn't hang around for long, so I think she could be a hostage. I'm going to get a little closer and report back then... Live from the scene? You bet!"
Hayden hung up and started up the idling mobile unit, looking for a good place to set up... JACKPOT! The primo real estate, right across the road from the Bank, and just one van near.
The blonde pixie beamed as she turned the engine off and got out. With enough room for them to move and plenty of time before high noon plus a chance to help the media, persuading the occupants to wait a little further along wouldn't be a problem...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Houston, we have a problem," Grace Park muttered, furrowing her brow at what she was hearing through the headphones.
"Tell me about it," Megan Fox replied, glancing out the window.
"Wait, are we talking about the same thing? Because *I'm* talking about the police dispatchers."
Megan's stomach did a little somersault. Ever since the others had gone into the bank everything had been fine - okay, they'd heard Jaime's gunshot, but nothing else since then except for a slight tremor; Megan figured that was just a warning. But...
"Someone in there tripped a silent alarm, and the dispatcher just sent word for the nearest squad car to come over and have a look-see. We got one thing on our side - they've been delayed by some kind of fight in the street..."
"Rhona?" Megan asked with a sardonic smirk.
"She's got long tentacles but she's not God. I think we just got lucky, but once that's settled they'll be here like THAT," Grace said with a snap of the fingers. "But what's on your mind, Foxy?"
"We got company," the tattooed car expert said tersely, jerking a thumb out the window.
Peering around Megan, Grace saw a small blonde heading towards the van, looking as perky as could be. And that was just her breasts. Grace was relieved - at least it wasn't a meter maid or some other cop. She started thinking furiously for a cover story in case the girl - who looked a lot like that hot girl on Channel 7 - wasn't just wanting change or something.
"Hi!" the tiny blonde said as soon as she got to the window.
"Hi yourself, stranger," Megan replied, managing to put on a smile.
"Waiting for anyone?"
"Actually, yeah," Grace answered casually, still wondering where she'd seen the gorgeous thing before. "We're picking up some casual workers in a few minutes to ferry them to Monterey home base."
"Work in Monterey? Nice gig. They running late?"
"Should be here in ten minutes..."
"That should be enough time."
"Huh?" asked Megan and Grace.
"See, there's something going on around here - I heard about it a few minutes ago - and when it breaks loose I could be the first one to get it on air, so..."
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!" Grace suddenly yelled, making Megan jump. "I KNOW YOU! I thought you looked familiar - you're that Hayden Pantene from Channel 7! You've got clips all over the net - man, I *love* watching you when I'm in SanFran..."
"It's Panettiere, but thank you," Hayden smiled. "Anyway, this place is the best point for me to set up, so if you'd just move down a few feet..."
"Believe me, we wish we could," Megan said, "but our boss is really picky. She said we have to stay right here, so we gotta stay. Sorry."
Hayden laid on the puppy-dog eyes. "Please...? It'll only be for a few minutes, I swear. I did check around before settling on this one and it's PERFECT."
"Welllll... if you gave me a kiss..." Grace said teasingly, and was secretly delighted to see Hayden's eyes fail to fall.
"Maybe later. Not while I'm on duty," the reporter replied coyly. "But it would be my pleasure to mention your business on air... what is it again?"
Oh crap. "Er... it's Kono and Kamekona Inc.," Grace flustered. "Finest casual agency in Montecito."
"You said Monterey," Hayden pointed out.
"Yeah, that's right - I get them confused sometimes..."
"Good thing I'm driving then," Megan chuckled. "C'mon, Hayden, cut us some slack - you can cover the bank just as well from there..."
Megan and Hayden watched the blood drain from each other's faces as they realised what she'd just said. Out of the several business places on the other side of the street, like a mall and a supermarket, Megan had mentioned the bank... which Hayden hadn't. And they both knew it.