Title: Bank Job 4 - Assault and Battery
Rating: PG-13 for Violence, Language
Pairings: Carina & Sarah, Charah
Summary: Carina and Sarah are still robbing that bank. It’s probably going a little too well.
Complete: The chapter is at about 50% as of time of posting
Length: 506 words
26 APRIL 2006
FIRST PERSIAN GULF BANK
Sarah pushed the unfortunate Mr. Faisal forward, grateful that they’d picked a time when most of the bank’s employees were fetching lunch. Even as she did so, a thousand thoughts whirled through her mind. Was Chuck’s encryption package, the one that piggy-backed off of a transfer and overwrote them out of the surveillance tapes, working? Had the bank discovered it yet? How close were they to getting caught? And, most importantly of all, why the hell was Carina behaving?
She knew her friend. By now, Carina should have tried to jeopardize the mission at least three times.
But the redhead moved along behind her, still looking every bit the wealthy heiress as Sarah propelled the bank employee forward. She even had a gloved hand clutching the brim of her hat, the better to hide from the security cameras with, Sarah knew. Carina believed in the principle of You show me yours, I’ll show you mine, which meant that until Sarah revealed Chuck’s identity—something that was never gonna happen, if Sarah had anything to say about it—Carina was keeping a firm lid on her own identity. It didn’t bother Sarah in the slightest.
“The—the security deposit boxes are this way,” Mr. Faisal said, a stammer in his voice, pointing when they reached an intersection in the hallway. “If you will follow me—”
“Nice try, Solnyshko,” Sarah said, adjusting her grip on his shoulder as Carina snickered at the nickname. “Safety deposit boxes are the other way. March.”
Mr. Faisal sighed, seemingly resigned to his fate. Sarah didn’t blame him, given that the photo they’d shown him was rather explicit. His father-in-law, by all rights, was supposed to be something of a tyrant, to say nothing of his wife. Sarah didn’t envy him the dressing-downs he’d be facing after this whole incident.
They made it to the room with the safety deposit boxes without incident, much to Sarah’s relief, down long, marble-lined corridors. Every echo made her want to cringe, but they passed nobody and soon, Mr. Faisal was fumbling for the keypad, cursing in Arabic under his breath as Carina and Sarah watched him.
The light above the panel flashed green. Sarah didn’t relax; Carina likely didn’t either.
“After you,” Carina said, smirking at Sarah.
Sarah knew that smirk too well to fall for it. “Why don’t we go in together?” she asked in Russian. Mr. Faisal looked from one to the other, sweat dripping from his forehead, and Carina laughed, tossing her head back just slightly (but not enough so that her face was visible to the cameras).
As she stepped through the door alongside Carina, pushing Mr. Faisal in front of her, Sarah caught a glimpse of a monitor down the hallway. There was a smiley face emoticon on it. Chuck was still watching over them.