Chapter 7: The Not So Smooth Talker
1058 Words
After a weirdly peaceful morning at the café, things started picking up speed again, but not in the way Tony had hoped. The next part of the heist required an expert in, well… subtlety—which, as it turned out, was not Big Joey’s forte.
“We need to get access to the vault’s control room,” Tony said, scanning over the blueprint Maggie had pulled up on her tablet. “And I’m not talking about some lame security guard break-in. I’m talking finesse.”
“You mean like the finesse I showed with the napkin hat?” Big Joey grinned, proud of his previous accomplishment. The napkin was now tucked neatly into his shirt pocket, a memento of the “greatest moment in napkin folding history.”
“No, Joey,” Tony deadpanned, “not like that.”
Maggie put her tablet down, giving Tony her best “let’s not get crazy” look. “Finesse? With you?”
“Hey,” Big Joey protested, “I’m subtle when I need to be. I’m like a ninja… but bigger.”
Tony rubbed his temples, already sensing the storm brewing. “Okay. We need to get into the security room with minimal noise, minimal risk, and definitely no “ninja” moves. This is about control. No one must know we’re there.”
Renee, who had been strangely quiet for the past ten minutes, suddenly perked up. “Wait, I’ve got an idea.”
The crew leaned in. “We’re listening.”
Renee smiled with that mysterious gleam in her eye. “I’ve got a contact—she can get us access to the building’s internal systems. We won’t need to hack anything, just walk in, slip her some cash, and we’ll have clearance. Easy.”
Tony looked at her, eyebrow raised. “And who exactly is this contact? The last time we relied on one of your ‘contacts,’ they turned out to be a clown at a kids’ party.”
“That was one time,” Renee said defensively. “And besides, the clown had useful information. He was, like, informative.”
Tony ignored the jab and gave her a skeptical look. “Alright. But if this goes south, I’m blaming you.”
“I can live with that.”
---
Later that day, the crew found themselves standing outside a sleek office building in downtown, the kind of place where only business moguls, high-powered lawyers, or shady characters really belonged. The windows gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the city skyline like a mirror. It was the kind of place you could easily imagine storing all kinds of top-secret, money-laundering, illegal activity—and coffee machines that could brew gold.
“Alright, guys,” Tony said, “we go in, find Renee’s contact, get the codes, and get out. No funny business.”
Joey, already fidgeting with his jacket, took a deep breath. “You mean, no napkin folding?”
“Exactly.”
They moved inside the building with ease—none of them drawing any attention. Except Joey, of course, who managed to bump into the receptionist’s desk. Twice. “Sorry! Sorry!” he muttered, making it look like a collision was part of the plan. He’d learned that one from a previous incident involving a vending machine.
Renee led them to a private elevator that took them up to a higher floor. She knocked three times on a steel door, and after a moment, it swung open to reveal a woman who looked like she stepped out of a spy movie—tall, serious, and wearing sunglasses indoors.
“Is it her?” Tony whispered to Renee.
“Yep,” Renee said, giving a small nod. “Meet Lana. She's the one who gets things done—quietly.”
Lana gave them a cursory glance, not really interested in any introductions. “You have the money?”
Renee nodded, and Lana stepped aside, allowing them into the small, windowless office. The room had a faint smell of cinnamon and old leather chairs, which was either comforting or suspicious—no one could tell.
"Alright, let's get this over with," Lana said, as she turned to a desk cluttered with papers and a few old-school computers. She didn't waste any time, tapping a few keys on her keyboard, pulling up what looked like a series of security protocols.
“Done,” she said, before Tony could even blink. “You’re in. Don’t make a mess of it.”
Tony was almost impressed. That was easy.
“Thank you,” he said, handing her a thick envelope filled with cash. “You’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”
As the crew turned to leave, Tony paused and turned back to Lana. “One last thing.”
Lana looked up, raising an eyebrow. “What now?”
“Do you happen to know where the casino keeps its high-roller chips? Specifically the ones with… special markings?” Tony asked, trying to keep his tone casual, like they were discussing lunch options.
Lana gave him a deadpan stare. “I might.”
“Would it be a problem if we got our hands on a few?” Tony asked.
“Depends,” she replied, not even breaking a sweat. “Do you plan to burn the place down while you’re at it?”
Tony chuckled. “Not quite, but it’s good to know we’re on the same page.”
With that, they left, and the moment the door closed behind them, Tony couldn’t help but let out a long, relieved sigh. “I don’t know about you guys,” he said, “but I think we just hit the jackpot.”
Joey was practically bouncing. “Is that the same jackpot I was talking about with the napkin hat earlier?”
Tony shot him a look, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. The plan was on track.
That was… until Dez sneezed. Again.
“Bless you,” Renee said sarcastically. “Hope you didn’t just sneeze out the entire heist.”
Dez gave her an apologetic look. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
Tony groaned. “We’re screwed.”
And so it continued, with the crew managing to inch forward despite their best (and worst) efforts.
- Writer
