The Heist || 𝘩.𝘴.

『11』| 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝙺𝚂

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THE HEIST
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CHAPTER
ELEVEN
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THE
MASKS
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[[ HARRY. ]]

[[ 14 DAYS BEFORE THE HEIST ]]

The five of us stood in the living room of my loft-apartment, where we stood in front of the tall glass mirror that aligned the black painted wall.

I had passed the masks of all colors and all shapes at random to everyone in the room.

"I don't know if I've stressed this enough, so I'm going to tell you all again, and again, the masks are to stay on if and when the authorities linger. It's truly tedious, but it's when the bank is securely locked; that's when the masks can come off to fathom some sort of sanity, not only that, but we'll gain the trust from hostages too." I grumbled, slowly placing the green mask over my face as I tugged the elastic string over my head to secure it.

"What happens to the hostages who put this heist at risk exactly?" Max speculated.

"Either taped at the mouth or obsolete. We'd all surely hope they bite their tongues, or they'd fade away wishing they had. You all should remember this at all times, and it's that there will always be a lingering two percent chance of casualties at risk of facing life or death amongst those hostages." I muttered gravely. "I know it's delving within the depths of darkness we'll have to come to terms with, but if we don't, there's the punctual prospect we'll end up losing one of ours."

"There's no way. There's absolutely no way we're departing, leaving one of ours behind." Carmen aggravated, the thought rattling her to her very cage.

"The probability in percentage for survival. What is it for the team?" Vera inquired in transparent skepticism. It contrasted her headstrong persona from the first day we began mapping out the plan. I sternly looked at her, focusing on the pink haired girl.

"Considering how long we've been preparing for this, it'd be a solid ninety nine point-nine percent. The remaining point-one percent, is for the unexpected we'll have to analyze when D-Day arrives, though that's what it is– a probability, a chance. The more we stress about the pressures that may possibly come forth, the more likely this probability will come to be, so we have to handle this as concisely as possible. Our emotions would render all of us a liability in this situation. I truly don't mean to overstep anyone's boundaries here, though I am certain about one thing, and it's that all of you are capable of transmuting your emotions into determination to reach the end successfully." I looked over at my masked team, and then at our reflections. "Any more questions, now?" I exasperated, as I felt the stress that radiated from every person in this room.

"And what happens when our masks become useless? Let's be real here, if the cops ever end up on the inside, they'll plot to get back in again, whatever the cost." Ace, the intellectual himself, said in all honesty. "They'll be desperate for redemption just as much as we'd all be."

"The art of double crossing, at its finest I presume." Max smirked knowingly.

"Now that's exactly right." I smiled, proud that he had recalled the past conversation we had on this hypothetical scenario about a week ago.

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[[ NOW ]]

"What's the plan, hot shot?" Dixie asked light-heartedly. "I presume you've got this figured out somehow, some way."

Her voice that resembled dripping honey comforted me amidst the tension within the elegant room we stood in. The apprehension that an authoritative agent could be lurking behind these walls was boldened within my head. Though the vents were vast, similar to a maze. It'd surely buy us some time before they'd reach the inside.

"It'd be a lie if I said I didn't." I chuckled. "It's all going to be okay." I said as the hostages had filled the space, probably questionable to what had been going down.

Vera had hauled a sack over to me, nodding once. "Alright, you two. Take one and pass the sack on." She handed me a white mask which contrasted all of the masks of color.

"We'll be camouflaging, attuned to our space this way. As far as the authorities know, the masks we had on previously were uniformed to color and faces of character when they found their way inside. Though as they find their way in–"

"They'll have no choice but to retreat." Dixie grappled with our tactics, her gaze fixated to mine as I nodded steadily.

I had slowly placed the white mask over her face, securing it behind her hair.

"She's clever, this one. I like her." Max chuckled, circling around the room collecting the vibrant masks from Dixie, Vera, and I.

Dixie smiled at him, quite bashfully as she shook her head jokingly.

"Now that we've all started a game of telephone, pass this message around too, for me love. Silence." I whispered into Dixie's ear, my lips slightly brushing the skin behind her ear.

"Mhm." Her breath hitched, completely unwinded. Once she regained her composure, I smiled in sheer amusement.

"Silence." I hear her mutter over to the next hostage across from her. "Pass it on."

The word silence travelled the sea of hostages, and once the last murmur was sounded, the room had filled with silence, the hostages squished onto the third floor with the rest of the team. My eyes wandered the identical white masks on everyone's faces, and then and there, I had felt at ease knowing we'd be safe. Everyone here would be. Momentum was surely in our favor. And in that blissful moment, the foreseeable five had shared glances from every point around the room. I knew we surely felt it too.

This was our victory.

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[[ DETECTIVE BOOKER. ]]

Soft static noise was all I heard from my walkie talkie, sighing when I had ended up impatient.

"Have you reached the inside, Ramirez? You're going to have to plant that body camera very precisely now–over." I pressed the red button on my walkie talkie, speaking into it in a low tone.

"Detective, I'm afraid we have a problem sir–over." He spoke gently, his voice sounding from the device.

"What's the problem? What is it–dammit." I was infuriated to the very brim.

"They must've beaten us to it. We were tagged sir, they knew... Hell, they knew we'd be here." Ramirez had sounded thrown off entirely.

"That's impossible!" I enraged, slamming my fists to the desk, angrily knocking everything off of it to the ground.

"They've changed the masks, sir. A-all of them." Ramirez said stoically, slightly stuttering.

"Clear out, Ramirez." I uttered into the walkie talkie lastly before I threw it down to the desk angrily. "Clear out, and regroup at our campsite. This prodigal mastermind's got to have some weakness. We're going to get to the fucking bottom of this. I want this damn prodigy on the phone now, do you hear me?" I told a police officer beside me.

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