Young Writers Society

Carbrillious Moudane

"Go smoke yourself, boy!" I growled at the new arrival, emphasizing the last word prominently. "We don't want you playing with fires and blowing up our dear boy's toys!" I indicated Rogan with the bottle in my hand, which I proceeded to swirl in a confident manner.
I looked at this Seth. He said he was a gunner, but I couldn't believe my eyes. Walking stick, I thought aloud to myself, he'd better get an intake of proteins. Of course I'd forgotten that I was thin, myself, but I considered myself to be quite fit and appraised the new arrival as out of shape. We might need to work on that if we wanted some mobile artillery.
The new arrival looked quite annoyed at me, and I smirked an acknowledgement of his irritation. Oh, this is going all too well, I laughed to myself.
The second most recent arrival regarded me with disapproving eyes. I ignored it and took a final mouthful from the bottle to empty it. The doorbell rang.

"Mommy, daddy, can we go out somewhere?"

"We are busy, Melane." They always said that. They were always into their work. I was always alone with my grandmother, who loved and supported me while my parents were working.

"Look, grandma, I made a plane." I held up a plane model up to her, smiling at her.

My grandmother smiled at me.

One day, she died of illness. At her funeral, it was just me and the rest of my family. My parents were too busy to come. I cried all night after the funeral. She was the only person I trusted. The only person I could talk to about my interests in aerodynamics.

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Eight years later.

I arrived on the doorstep of the Carmine residence, holding a letter in one of my hands. I rang the doorbell, waiting for a response. I stared down at the letter again, reading the contents in the letter.

"I'm sure you're aware that all of this business is of the utmost importance, so any questions or confirmations should be sent to me as soon as possible. The faster we're all ready, the quicker we can all be in our million-dollar mansions sipping scotch. No one else can know about this, and if this gets taken to the cops, I'll end you- I have my ways.

Yours faithfully
Adrian Carmine"

I sighed softly as I heard a response from the intercom. "Who is this?"

"Melane Kurre, I was told to come here." I put my hands in my pockets as the doors opened. I walked in the door, seeing others in the lobby area.

"Ah, Melane, our wonderful pilot. Come in, come in." I kept walking, seeing the others stare at me. I smirked at the person in the armchair. "Ah, you've heard of me."

"Yes, yes. And Adrian Carmine's the name." Carmine smiled at me.

Everyone who came before me introduced themselves, giving out information about their abilities and more.

I sighed softly, sitting on one of the couches in the lobby.

bob Wayland- Recon

Wayland pulled up in his black '98 Accord, just a block away from the meeting place. He pulled out the keys and sat in silence for a moment, listening to the cars drive by outside of the alley. He stepped out of the car and shut the door, jamming his keys in his black hoodie.

He walked around an abandoned rusty warehouse and stopped when he saw several cars parked in front of another warehouse. The place looked old and unused. The walls were rusty, paint was chipped away on the doors.

Wayland watched as a car was unloaded with lots of high tech gear. There looked to be a couple girls and a couple guys. Wayland spotted Carmine at one moment, a hefty man in business attire, holding a bottle.

There were two ways to go about entering. One: Wayland could walk straight into the place and announce he was their; Two: he could sneak his way their. After all, why not have a little fun. Wayland enjoyed a bit of fun and secrecy. That is why he was hired for the job.

Wayland took the second approach. He walked past the warehouse all the way around to the other side of the building. He looked around and spotted a few broken windows. Those weren't any good. He could cut himself and make noise with them. There was an old metal door but that would probably be too creaky.

He wasn't going to give up this easily though. He continued walking, looking for a stealthy entrance. He spotted another window, this one open to allow air flow, about ten feet up. Wayland was not too tall, but he had great agility. He took a few steps back and got a running start. He pumped his legs as hard as he could and launched himself up. His fingers grasped the opening and slid. Wayland held himself suspended and was able to pull his right arm up.

He pulled himself up with great effort, and looked in. A few crates below would make a loud noise if he dropped on them. Se he slowly twisted around, and lowered himself legs first into the warehouse. Directly in front of him now that he turned around, he saw a group of people talking. There were a few bottles being passed around.

Staying in the shadows of the expansive warehouse Wayland made his way along the edges until his was nearly to the loading dock where everyone else had presumably entered. He opened the door from the inside, rang the intercom, and then stepped back in, grinning as he leaned against the door.

~Ivy Black~

.


"I'm sure you're aware that all of this business is of the utmost importance, so any questions or confirmations should be sent to me as soon as possible. The faster we're all ready, the quicker we can all be in our million-dollar mansions sipping scotch. No one else can know about this, and if this gets taken to the cops, I'll end you- I have my ways.

Yours faithfully
Adrian Carmine"

The note played through my head as I sat idling in my blood red Mustang. It looked as though everyone else had already arrived, meaning I would be the last. Carmine had been in my sights or sometime now, and this is the best way to scope him out and see for myself what's i'd be dealing with if I do decide to kill him. A lot of people would pay a heavy sum to have him killed. He's been very naughty from what I've heard, and he might just be in need of a little punishment. The thought made me smile. Dealing out punishments is sort of my specialty in a way.

Turning the ignition off, I got out and locked the Car, making my way to the ware house. It was oddly quiet, making everything seem a bit eerie, though it suited me just fine. There were usually gangs or something of the sort hanging around doing something illegal, but not here, I guess. Before arriving, i'd done a full check out of the surrounding area to make sure no one was watching us. There wasn't much I could do about the cameras I knew were hidden about, though.

Stepping up to the door, I saw the button there beside it, which was weird, and pressed down. Moments later, I heard a voice call out to me from the other side.

"Who's there?" it asked.

"Ivy Black reporting for duty," I answer.

As the door opens, I step inside and meet the stares of the others waiting in what looks like a lobby. Now that i'm here, we can finally get this party started.

Adrian Carmine

I laid off the drink for a while, even though I insisted my trip was merely a case of undone laces. Why vision became a bit clearer when Melane arrived, and I insisted I could answer the door for one of the final two members of the team; Bob and Ivy. To my surprise (pleasant, fortunately), Wayland, the recon, was actually waiting inside the hall, leaning back against the wall with a smile of self-confidence. "I knew there was a reason I liked the sound of you," I chuckled, shaking his hand heftily.

Ivy arrived almost instantly after, declaring herself as Bob and I answered the door, quite professionally I might add- which was only fitting considering her military background. After hands were shaken and drinks were passed around, I gathered the group inside the office, the faded green walls dimmed as I switched off the lights and flicked on a little projector in the middle of the room. Onto the wall a bright light shone, and the words 'The Grand Heist' stood in solid silver writing.
"Now you are all finally here, it is time that I elaborate on the reason why I summoned you all- I may have been a bit scarce on the details in the letters I wrote to you all." I quickly filled a glass with water, sipped it, and returned to my position in front of the projector. "My name is Adrian Carmine, for those who didn't figure that part out, and my reasons for bringing you all together are very simple, but far from ordinary."
I pushed a button on the remote that I held, and the slide changed to a view of the Global Business Finance Depository, in the heart of New York City. It was a monumental structure, reaching 61 stories tall, with 15 stories sinking beneath the ground.

"This here is our objective, the Global Business Finance Depository, which sits on a fortune of over 200 billion dollars in gold and green. Our objective is, quite simply, to steal from this enormous pool of money and get out alive with as much of it as possible. A feat that is easier said than done, I assure you." The slide flickered across an aged face, with short brown hair and fair skin, narrow-jawed and rigid cheeked. "According to intelligence Cillian," I gestured to him, as he leaned against the wall, " gained, this man- David Atley- is a high-ranking, senior Interpol agent, is tasked with overseeing a transaction between famous business tycoon Leroy Higgins and the GBFD. Little does the government know that the pair are planning to smuggle a large amount of money out of the Depository."

"The guy's a crook himself?" Wayland interrupted.

"Yes, and a cunning one at that. Atley has abused his position of power for many years now, but Interpol have never suspected a thing. Needless to say that he will be a difficult opponent, but with correct planning, brilliant placement and impeccable timing, we may just pull this off. Atley has a taskforce of 150 men, all present in the building and assisting him with this operation- paid off already, so bribery won't work. Since I'm not a expert in the areas you all are, bar few, I've refrained from planning every detail before the heist- that is what we will be doing over the next two days."

I shut off the projector and faced the group. "Each one of you shall take a hefty sum of the loot depending on the degree of help you attributed to the heist, but we may not all escape the Depository alive. With this in mind, I ask you all now: are you in?"

Carbrillious Moudane

I chuckled sneeringly. "Course I'm in. Why take all the trouble to get here and not have some fun. You don't have clearer blueprints, do you?" I took another swig from the bottle in my right hand. It was my second and I was half through.
Carmine looked quizzically at me. "This is the clearest blueprints available." Wayland nodded his assent.
"Well," I drawled, gesturing a mock surrender, "that sure is fine intel we've got."
This brought a sharp rebuke from Wayland, who I immediately began to detest. I shrugged my shoulders and placed a demure face. "Believe me, boy, there has to be a better plan than that!" I gesticulated towards the now dull wall.
"And where might your more "better" plans be?" Wayland retorted in mock respect.
"Fire department." I smiled sardonically.
"This is from the fire department!" He sounded incredulous.
I rolled my eyes. "With that kind of intelligence, I'm sure we'll pull this off just fine!" I signaled 'ok' to the group with my free hand and took another swipe.
"I checked everything on the GBFD. There is no, I repeat, no other plans."
I grinned loudly. "And so where is the architectural plans? All I saw were layout plans specifically for some squat fireman's ease, speaking of which, we could smoke out the employees and go for it masquerading as firemen." I cocked an eyebrow thoughtfully and waved my had like a duck bill. "Or maybe not." I pouted.
Wayland did not bother to reply but snuggled back on his legs. I counted this a victory. One down.
My gaze shifted to Emile. "So Boombaby," I drawled, "any chance your babies can tunnel through to the bottom for us to dig out the gold?"
"No say until we get those architectural plans you spoke of." He replied.
My duck bill came up again. "Depends on lovely Bob. By the way, Crocs, what is our deadline? I'm thinking let Interpol pack the goods and we jump from them simul with the ground stuff."
"Good idea, but we'll need to split in two for that."
"No problem, Crocs, we have a pilot. All we need to do is steal a cargo plane. Mels, dear, you can start a cover as a cargo pilot and we'll have that side of part of the heist perfectly planned." I cocked the eyebrow I hadn't raised before and peered leering lay at Melane.

Amica Kutscher

Cabrillous had introduced some interesting points, his role as the genius of the team was one he played well, with a certain dry wit. Over the somewhat chaotic descent between the men, I butt in. "Surely if we needed clearer blueprints, Cillian would be able to obtain them? That is what he's here for, after all."

"I wasn't able to locate anything like that on the internet, not even with intensive hacking into the GBFD's ethernet. However, it may be possible to obtain some more accurate documents if were able to actually get inside the building before hand."

Adrian's eyes were narrowed with intense thought, but Carbrillious had already understood what was necessary to undertake such a feat- it was clear from his demeanour. "That job would fall under the expertise of Kiara, if we could get her some indentification," he said, finally.

"That would be possible, I already saved the database of staff, along with their hours, rotations and schedules."

"Perfect," I said, "maybe we could kill two birds with one stone, while we're at it- where are we in the planning for automotive transport?"

Carbrillious smiled slyly, a plan clearly formulating in his head. "An amateur at her job like you, Ami, could use with a reduction in heat in the getaway, correct?"

I disliked his tone, "Any professional would prefer to have to deal with as few pursuers as possible."

He chuckled, "Of course, then consider this: if we spark suspicion within the GBFD on whomever miss Sandoval disguises herself as, it may be an investment to use a replica of this person's car in order to split the NYPD into chasing two different suspects."

"That is a brilliant idea, but it would only buy us so much time- if the staff member is innocent, they will pull over and reveal that they possess nothing of importance. But it would still give me a good lead."

Adrian started to smile, "Mears, identify the uniforms used by the cleaning staff in the Depository and order a replica to be delivered here- off a trusted contact of course. Once we have that, we can send Ami, Kiara and you out to the GBFD. If Kiara can smuggle in a router of some kind and wire straight into the Depository's internal mainframe, you may be able to retrieve some better quality blueprints for the building. As well as that, Cillian, you'll need to call up a staff member and tell them they are not required for the day, then look into their insurance details and get hold of the make, colour, and registration of their car. I want this done within the next day, so then Ami can start on the copycat."

"I should be able to do that." The hacker nodded his head.

"So how much exactly would I be taking away in that car?" I asked.

"Nothing," Carbrillious smiled, "both cars will be a diversion. You'll be driving one of the Interpol's vehicles, but when Atley's goons see Kiara's duplicate leave in a car identical to the one Cillian will drive remotely, they'll pursue both. If Emile wires the car to explode when it reaches a stop, that will remove a large portion of the cops when you make the getaway with your take of the loot."

I may not have liked him, but I had to hand it to him- Moudane was good at his job.

Kiara Sandoval

I listened to the conversation as if it wasn't about me. It felt strange to hear my name in the mouths of these men. Sure, I'd been involved with other criminals and I'd heard plans for robberies and "magic tricks" but these people were on a different level, and they all seemed so much older and more experienced then me.

But when I got over the shock and listened to the conversation I began to nod my head. I understood what they were saying, and I knew I could do it. After a while someone turned to me as if to make sure I was paying attention. I nodded quickly and then forced myself to say something even though my voice at first came out like a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again, this time my voice sounded a little bit louder and more confident.

"I'll need good pictures, voice recordings, height and weight measurements, brand of shampoo, everything you can possibly find about whoever I'm supposed to become. But I can do it. Of course I can do it."

"So tell me again, how much money are we looking at by the end of this Grand Heist?" someone asked. I breathed a sigh of relief at the distraction and slid a little further down into the chair. I hoped no one could see how nervous I actually was, or how excited.

I can do this, I repeated to myself, of course I can.