Twenty minutes before GoonStorm was set to breach, Kurt stood in the lobby of the First and Central Bank, searching for his target. The lobby was spacious, with high ceilings and hanging light fixtures illuminating the large, open building. Directly down a handful of steps and to the left of the entrance was the teller’s area, a long wooden counter broken up into several cubicles tucked away behind a wall of bulletproof glass. To the right was a customer lounge and several loan officer’s desks. Against the back wall was the bank manager’s office, its large glass wall giving a fine view of the entire lobby.
Kurt stepped quickly, trying to avoid the NPCs tucked away behind desks as he moved towards the back wall. He casually ducked any NPCs he thought might be employees who could identify him, using a convoluted path to reach the rear of the bank, and hiding several times as someone would pass him. Frustration at how long it took him to get through the lobby set in quickly, but he played it safe and sneaky, glancing at his map to stay out of view. He used the cubicles and waiting areas, blending in with the crush of customers as he meandered his way across the marble lobby. The manager was not in his office, so Kurt entered, moving towards the rear of the office into a private washroom. While waiting, he brought up Jimmy’s page on his friends list and thumbed the call button.
As he entered the call, the loud whirring chatter of heavy machinery could be heard in the background and Jimmy had to shout to be heard. “You in place?”
Wincing at the sound, Kurt peeked out of the bathroom. “Yes, but I don’t have the manager yet. I’m hiding in his bathroom.”
A burst of laughter overrode the sound of the machine they were using to cut through the wall downstairs. “Yeah, he’s in there. Hiding in the bathroom, yeah. Yep, super pro place to hide, he knows. Hang on . . . no, just join the call, would you?”
A moment later, Gadot’s voice sounded in his ear. “GoonStorm breaches in five minutes. You better find the manager before then.”
“Well, I mean yeah. I really didn’t have a plan for if he wasn’t in here. Can’t just go wandering around — oh, here he comes.” Kurt closed the door and waited as the sounds of his call with Jimmy and Gadot faded into the background.
“Thank you, Francine, that will be all,” the manager said from his desk, before turning and moving towards the bathroom. Kurt smiled before scrambling to get to the side of the door as it swung open.
A light whack to the back of the head with the butt of his handgun sprawled the manager out on the floor of the bathroom, leaving Kurt standing in the doorway, peeking across the lobby. No one seemed to have noticed the minor commotion, to his relief, and he began the process of zip-tying his prisoner’s hands and feet. After rummaging through the manager’s pockets for his keyring, Kurt left the NPC on the floor, before closing the door and moving back out into the office to sit behind the desk.
Murmuring to avoid anyone over-hearing him, Kurt scanned the lobby. “I have him knocked out in the bathroom. If GoonStorm doesn’t go delving, they should miss him. How long does a knockout like that usually last?”
“Uh, variable. Should be fine.” Jimmy shouted in his ear to be heard over the constant equipment noise in the background. “We’re almost done here. We’ll be in the basement and waiting when you hit the vault.”
Gadot broke in, her own voice raised to be heard. “Keep this line open. We need to hear everything. If you screw up, this op is blown, so be convincing.” She paused before adding in a snide tone, “No pressure.”
Kurt sat behind the manager’s desk and watched his operational timer tick down, nerves growing thinner as the time slipped away. He felt compelled to just run more than once but kept calm by reminding himself that his friends were counting on him. Getting shot would hurt but letting Jimmy down because of a little anticipatory anxiety was a vastly more unpleasant thought.
As the timer ticked away, the machine noise in his ear died abruptly, replaced by Gadot’s voice. “We’re in. Good luck, Kurt.”
Managing to keep his nerves out of his voice, Kurt replied cheerfully. “You too.” He took a deep breath and blew it out of his cheeks as his timer reached zero. “Yeah. It’s gonna be fun.”
Nothing happened. He scowled, surveying the lobby again. Tellers were busy helping customers, loan officers smiled and shook hands, offering clients seats and assuring those waiting that it wouldn’t be long. Just when Kurt began to doubt the GoonStorm crew, a scream sounded from outside and the ground rumbled lightly underfoot.
Kurt stood and buttoned his suit jacket, his eyes going wide as an M60A3 tank burst through the opposite wall into the lobby, sending rubble and shattered glass skidding across the floor. In the half-second before the screaming began in earnest, the tank’s turret slid calmly to the side and belched fire, blasting a hole in the bulletproof glass wall separating the lobby from the tellers.
As chaos broke out, Kurt paid close attention to the NPCs, noting how they responded. GoonStorm players and NPCs began to pour through the still-crumbling hole in the entrance wall, recognizable by their uniforms and helmets. The majority of them wore light blue and grey digital camouflage outfits, with tactical pants and armored vests. They were armed with military rifles, an assortment of shotguns, and various handguns, all shouting and pointing at civilian NPCs as they stormed into the lobby.
A high-pitched roar sounded as a squad of GoonStorm soldiers on matching blue digital camouflage 2008 Honda CRF dirt bikes entered the lobby, bouncing down the handful of steps and spreading out, pointing handguns and small SMGs while shouting at the NPCs. Shoving their way through the underlings, a four-man squad marched directly towards Kurt, pointing weapons and shouting at civilian NPCs and GoonStorm players alike. They wore the standard GoonStorm outfits, but each held unique weapons. As they approached, Kurt stepped forward and made a show of locking his door with shaking hands and wide eyes.
A man wielding two matte-black Glock handguns stepped up to Kurt’s office door and calmly tapped on the glass. “Really?” His face was obscured by a black tactical balaclava, but the amusement in his voice was obvious. Kurt backed away, his hands in the air above his head. He didn’t have to do much acting to nail the terrified expression expected of him.
“Open. The. Door.” The man with the dual handguns spoke calmly, but with an annoyed malice in his voice as his teammates spread out around him and took up defensive positions.
One of them carried a monstrous light machine gun with lime green spray paint splatters along its frame and box magazine. He sprayed the door with automatic fire. It shattered and fell to pieces. Shouldering past the leader, he fired a burst into the ceiling above Kurt. White dust and broken ceiling tiles rained down all around him.
Kurt dropped to his knees with a small scream, looking firmly at the carpet as the leader of the four-man squad approached him. Jimmy snickered in his ear before wisely muting himself.
“Please! Just don’t hurt anyone!” Kurt shouted in a shaking voice, hoping he was convincing. He needn’t have worried, as the leader simply grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him to his feet.
“C’mon, old buddy old pal, off we go.” He led Kurt out of the office, walking away from the scene of chaos spreading out in the lobby. GoonStorm players were running rampant over the NPCs, shouting and pointing weapons to make them stay on the ground. The occasional gunfire would sound as they popped off rounds over their heads or into the ground. Hoots and hollering accompanied laughter as some of them rummaged through the teller drawers. As Kurt watched, one young man stepped onto a teller’s desk and tilted his arm to take a picture of himself with his wrist phone while sticking out his tongue and grotesquely posing with his rifle between his legs. Over it all, the tank sat in its crumbling doorway, turret moving every few seconds.
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Kurt was hustled down a hallway, through a security checkpoint now manned by GoonStorm thugs standing over the remains of blue-shirted security guards. They held heavily modified AK47 rifles in a ready position, clearly well-trained in their aspect of the heist. The metal detector went off as Kurt passed through it directly ahead of the small group, but none of his handlers seemed to notice or care. They kept to their forced march, moving down a set of wide concrete stairs and through a tiled hallway. A simple security door stood before them at the end of the hallway, and the leader of the four-man squad shoved Kurt as he released him.
“Why’d he lock the door?” said a man who carried a long-barreled marksman rifle and wore dark sunglasses under his helmet. He eyed the hallway they had come through suspiciously.
A man carrying a street-sweeper shotgun frowned, turning to face his companion. “What do you mean?”
“He locked the door up there. I’ve never seen him do that before. The manager always goes for the panic button under the desk.” He glanced back at Kurt, who fumbled with the keyring as he looked for the correct key while trying not to panic.
“Shut up, you’re messing him all up. Look how nervous he is, he can’t even figure out the keys.” The leader turned and shrugged at the marksman. “They scramble the NPCs every week, Kevin. He does new stuff all the time.” He noticed Kurt looking at him out of the corner of his eye and raised one of the handguns, mimicking the action of shooting him.
Kurt whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, fumbling at the keys again. The man with the shotgun stepped forward and snatched the keyring from his hand. After picking through it for a moment, he handed it back with a key extended, shaking his head.
“Stop scaring the NPC, guys. We’re on the clock here.” The leader put his hands on his hips in a mock display of authoritarian anger. “We have to get the haul out of here before those morons upstairs get bored and start killing civvies again.”
The key turned easily in the door and Kurt swung it open, going stiff as the leader slipped a casual arm around his throat and pointed a gun over his shoulder. As the door opened, half a dozen security guards began shouting for the heisters to drop their guns. The heist crew did not comply.
The handgun in front of Kurt erupted, spitting out eight rounds in a quick, staccato burst. Kurt’s eyes went wide as he watched the scene unfold. The heisters spread out and made quick work of the security guards stationed in front of the vault door. They attacked simultaneously, their leader using Kurt as a human shield to prevent any counterattacks. Within a few seconds all the guards were down.
The man with the shotgun stepped forward, dropping a large backpack on the ground in front of them. As he took items out of it, each member of the crew moved to a defensive position in the small lobby. The area was a glorified waiting room, with a set of comfortable looking benches against the wall near the exit and an ornate wooden desk near the vault door. A handful of pleasant pictures hung on the walls, and a series of green leafy plants helped raise the mood of the room overall. The marksman shoved a wooden desk between the vault and the doorway, resting his rifle against it while dropping to one knee. The Goon with the LMG stood lazily near the door, leaning against the wall with a yawn. The leader shoved Kurt up against the wall next to the vault, before turning to inspect the guards’ remaining gear piles for any potential loot.
He kicked aside a handgun, clucking his disapproval. “Never any good loot in here anymore.”
“They drop nine-mills. They’ve always dropped nine-mills.” His shotgun set aside, the technician set about the process of emptying his backpack.
Kurt was left more or less to himself, so he watched the man work. He began to assemble what looked like a welding kit. Within a few seconds, he had a small gas tank set next to a hearty-looking battery pack. Both were connected to a small red handle that ignited with a bright flare. Turning to the vault’s locking mechanism with a smile, the GoonStorm technician pressed the plasma cutter into the glass security screen meant for a handprint. Kurt suppressed his scowl at the nonsensical vault cracking method, remembering to keep to his cover. He made a point of cowering when the leader turned back to look at him but eyed the man’s Glock handguns with a clear sense of greed.
“Waiting on your signal.” Gadot’s voice in his ear was barely a whisper, and Kurt knew better than to respond.
A few minutes ticked by, the heist crew showing varying degrees of boredom and occasionally checking in over their coms with the rest of the operation. The leader began a countdown, starting at ten and dropping down to one. As he reached zero, an alarm went off overhead.
The technician cursed under his breath as the vault door made a series of loud clunks and swung slightly open. He heaved against the door, swinging the circular chunk of metal outwards. The leader patted him on the shoulder with a Glock as he walked past him towards Kurt. “Damn close this time. You’ll get it next week for sure. Right, topside team, you heard the dinner bell. Pigs are on their way, prepare for defense and extraction.”
Kurt risked a glance at his wrist while the leader grabbed him by the back of the neck, leading him towards the inner security door. His display confirmed that he was now part of a four bar heat, and he turned his attention back to the door in front of him. It was a floor-to-ceiling metal cage, with a lock set in the middle of a doorway. The technician stopped him and took the keyring from his shaking hands once more, picking the correct key and returning it with a polite smile. As Kurt moved to open the lock, he looked inside the cage to see four large bundles of cash wrapped in plastic sitting on a long metal table in the middle of the room.
The door swung open and Kurt stepped back quickly, raising his hands above his head again. “Okay, okay. It’s open. Just please don’t hurt me.”
“Moving up.” Gadot’s low growl in his ear was strangely reassuring as his heart rate increased. Glancing out the doorway behind them, he saw a brief flash of movement as Gadot crossed the hallway in a crouch. She was dressed in all black, with a crimson handkerchief tied across her mouth. Her hair was done up in a ponytail on top of her head, a red plastic clip holding it in place.
“In position.” Jimmy clicked back into their coms from the other side of the doorway. “Neck, armpit, and groin all count as critical hit points. Don’t risk the helmets blocking you.”
The GoonStorm heist crew had moved into the vault, ignoring Kurt as they unrolled four long duffle bags and began loading the cash into them. He reached into his new holster, removing the Maxim 9 and keeping it low behind his back. As they zipped up the last of the money bags, he stepped into the vault.
“Hey, guys,” he said calmly, noticing which of the crew had their hands full as he took another step into the vault. “You probably should have listened to Kevin.”
Kurt raised his handgun and shot Kevin in the groin. He adjusted his aim and shot the leader in the neck, turning to fire wildly at the technician as he raised his shotgun from the table. The technician went down in a hail of suppressed bullets while the final heist member struggled to lift his LMG with the duffle bag in his way. Kurt shook his head and casually shot the man in the throat while moving around the table.
A noisy series of alerts came through his wrist phone, as the display fired itself up in spite of having the skill notifications turned off. While he looked at it, an item deposited itself in his pocket, a subtle change in weight.
Class Unlocked
Infiltrator
Good at getting into places they are not permitted; the Infiltrator can be a powerful ally.
While the Infiltrator class is equipped, a bonus percentage equal to five ranks is applied to each of the following skills:
Cartography, Disguise, Liar, Planning, and Stealth.
Specialty services, clothing, and weaponry have been unlocked for purchase and use. Lock Picking is 25% faster with this class equipped.
Reaching into his pocket, Kurt produced a thin, silver business card holder. Moving the top lid caused it to swivel open in his hand and deposit a single card, deeply embossed. The card was jet black and inked in silver, displaying his name and class prominently across the front.
Mr. Kurtis
Infiltrator
He looked back through the vault door as Jimmy came up alongside him, hefting his newly modified shotgun. It sported a length of tube underneath the barrel that Kurt assumed was an extended magazine, painted with a spitfire’s grinning shark visage. He wore a metal tactical facemask, covering all of his face apart from two eyeholes, leaving Kurt unable to see his expression as he bent over the fallen player’s machine gun, though he was reasonably certain he knew what it looked like.
“Oohooo! Free M60. Don’t mind if I do.” He bent and collected the large gun, slinging his shotgun around to the small of his back as he hefted his new weapon. “What’s that?” Jimmy asked, looking in Kurt’s hand.
Kurt showed the card to Jimmy with a smug smile. As Jimmy inspected it, his face contorted. “A class on your second day. Really?” Exasperation dripped from the last word.
Gadot backed into the vault, focusing her large SMG on the doorway as she went. She walked past the players’ gear, now sitting atop small piles of silver dust. “Get the bags — we need to leave!”
Remembering his purpose, Jimmy quickly hefted two of the cash bags, one over each shoulder and moved back to the doorway to defend them, his new LMG trained down the hallway. “This fucker just got a class on his second day.”
As Gadot set down her SMG on the table she got one of the bags arranged across her back. Kurt scanned her gun, a Heckler and Koch UMP45. It sported a bulky suppressor and a double magazine link. She lifted it and gave him an impatient look, motioning towards the hallway they had come in from. “Congratulations! Can we leave now?”
