“How many you make out?” Steve asked. “I count eight so far.”
Bridge scanned the compound with his binoculars. “I got twelve.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not trying to breach it.”
“There’s a bunch of cars out there,” Nicole said.
“Yeah, but no telling whose they are. Could be visitors, could be the men that work there.”
Bridge continued looking at the building, trying to find a window to look through. “We just need to hope that one of those cars belongs to Kenny or Dalton.”
There were a few windows in the building, but they were darkly tinted, and seeing inside was difficult. Bridge thought he detected some movement in a couple of them, but seeing who it was was nearly impossible from his vantage point. About ten minutes went by without any movement, except the guards who wandered around from time to time.
“Wait a minute,” Nicole said. “We got movement by the front door.”
They all put their binoculars on the front door, which was now halfway open, though nobody was visible. It had to be opened from the inside.
“Here we go. People coming out.”
They all anxiously looked at the three people exiting the building. Their hopes were quickly dashed, as none of the three were anyone they recognized.
“Well, didn’t figure it’d be that easy anyway,” Steve said. “Would’ve been something if we got it on the first shot.”
“I’m just hoping they weren’t here and gone already,” Bridge said.
“If they were, it’s gonna be hell finding them. By the time we give up here, they’ll have a long head start on us.”
“They’ll be here,” Nicole said.
“What makes you so sure?” Steve asked.
“I can just feel it.”
“Oh no, not that intuition thing again,” Bridge said.
Nicole smiled. “Why not? It’s always worked for me before.”
“It has not. You just got lucky those other times.”
“Jealous again.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You just hate it when I’m right and you’re wrong.”
“I don’t hate it. And for the record, I didn’t say you were wrong about anything, not even here.”
“Well, you’re thinking it.”
“I’m not thinking it.”
“You guys married?” Steve asked.
“No!” Bridge and Nicole both replied in unison.
Steve looked at the two of them, not sure if they were telling the truth about that one. They sure sounded married. Or at least like a couple that had been together for fifty years.
“Oh,” Steve said. “OK.”
Nicole looked at her boyfriend and shook her head.
“What was that for?” Bridge asked.
“You know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“Can we just focus on the bank,” Steve said.
“I am focusing,” Nicole replied.
“You guys do this often?”
“Do what?” Bridge asked.
“Um, you know, like, argue?”
“We’re not arguing.”
“Not even close,” Nicole said.
“Oh,” Steve said. “Sounds like arguing.”
“We’re just expressing our feelings to each other.”
Steve looked confused. “Oh.”
“Having these kinds of discussions with each other helps to keep us loose and on our toes,” Bridge said.
“It does?”
“Yeah. If you’re really serious all the time, with the things you do, you’ll just blow yourself up after a while.”
“That wouldn’t be good.”
“No. So we like to keep things light.”
“Makes sense. Pinnacle One highly regards you. When he informed me you were coming, he said you were one of the best he’s ever seen.”
“Always good to know,” Bridge said.
“How come you’re not still with the agency then?”
“Just got tired. Tired of risking my life and getting shot at, stabbed, poisoned, and blown up.”
“But you’re still here doing the same thing.”
Bridge laughed, appreciating the irony. “Yeah. Funny, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Only thing now is I get to decide what I’m gonna get shot at over instead of someone in a suit in a different country deciding that.”
“Makes sense.”
“And we get paid more,” Nicole said. “Assuming we get paid.”
“You miss it?”
“No,” Bridge said. “Like you said, I’m still in it, just in a different way. I’m like a baseball player who gets traded to a new team. I’m still in the game, just playing for a different organization. Mine.”
“Hey, guys, heads-up,” Nicole said, still monitoring the building. The others quickly took to their binoculars. “Looks like we got another car pulling up.”
“Let’s hope this one belongs to us.”
A few seconds later, one of the car doors opened, and a woman stepped out. They couldn’t yet tell if that was Dalton. Her hair was different, but in their game, hair was an easy change to make. Her back was completely to them, so they couldn’t make out her face. Another door opened up, a man getting out of the passenger seat.
“Is that Kenny?” Steve asked.
Bridge focused in on the man. “That’s not him.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. That’s not him.”
The woman turned around, finally revealing her face. “That’s not Dalton either,” Nicole said.
Steve sighed. “Thought we had something there.”
“Wonder how busy this place gets. I mean, can anyone just waltz right in here or do you need some kind of pass?”
“From what I understand, they set everything up through appointments. I think it’s half-hour intervals. So if you wanna put something in, or take it out, you schedule a half-hour time period to do your business.”
“Smart,” Bridge said. “That way you don’t have people from different groups falling all over each other. It also means there’s no mix-ups.”
“And whoever’s running it, their attention isn’t diverted between two, three, or even four groups of people at once.”
“Yeah. Whoever’s running this operation knows what they’re doing. How long’s this place been in existence?”
“I don’t know for sure. I’ve been here five years, and I heard about it when I first got here. And it was already well established at that point. As far as I can make out, it’s been around a while. Ten, fifteen, maybe even twenty years.”
“You can’t operate something like this for this long without greasing a few palms with people who are high up on the pecking order.”
“We know.”
“Well, if people can only come in at half-hour intervals, then we got some time before the next one,” Nicole said.
They waited a few more hours, with several more people coming and going.
“This place gets more action than a real bank,” Bridge said.
“Almost makes you wonder, doesn't it?” Nicole replied.
“I wonder if you can deposit
