Thursday, October 31, 2013

Day 205 - Repeat Offenders - Chapter 5.1 - (1069 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

REPEAT OFFENDERS

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 5.1



The door to the bank opened inwards and the two men stepped in, this time was different and yet exactly the same. They were a man short and that meant a new approach and that the timing would be more critical. Brian was going to have to take physical action, and it was not a prospect he was relishing. The reason he had gone with Michael, why he had accepted the assistance of Ivan via Mike, was so he would not have to go down any of the physical roads.


Yet here he was and it was only a few trips in and all of a sudden the requirement was on him, and it was a situation that required him to act before time ran out. They could only reset so many times before they ran out of window in which to act. Each trip shaved a little more off the start time, and a mess like the one with Ivan just now shaved even more time off the window of opportunity. They needed a bigger stake, two or three more trips to get the diamonds, to expand their cash base would be perfect. They would still need to launder the money, they would still need to find a cover story but at least they would have the cash.


Time was the one luxury that was not available, despite the apparent benefits of a time machine like the one Brian had developed, Brian himself was on a clock to get what he wanted, the chance to change the future. The future was know already, it was written and ready to go but knowing what was coming for himself only complicated matters, it did not make it any easier. As each trip that he took kept him on a time line within his corporeal self, there was a ticking clock on his life that was reducing, albeit with small increments, but time was a messy mistress to be having a careless fling with.


Michael patted Brian on the shoulder and headed across the bank floor to the spot where Nick the Guard was, in the middle of the room in transit as they came through the door. Michael pulled his gun and placed it squarely in the chest of Nick, who froze as soon as he felt the gun, backed up by the cold look in Michaels eyes. That was Brian's cue to act on the slower and less threatening guard by the door, so he stepped forward and raised his own gun to hit the poor unfortunate on the head. While Brian accosted the guard by the door, Mike disarmed Nick and put a pair of handcuffs on him, pulling them out of a pocket, his plan was more detailed now that there were only two of them. The odds, the variables and the tasks required for a two man job meant less time for each step and more care to potential outcomes.


The guard who's name was Simon by his name badge, leaned back and protected his head from the blow, cowering backwards and making a small noise in his throat somewhere between a protestation and fear. In that split second Brian chose not to follow through with the blow to the head, instead he levelled the gun like Mike was doing and waited for Simon to stand up right again and face him, face the barrel of the gun.


Brian was deviating from the plan, he could not bring himself to go through with the violence. He did not want to hit him, he did not want to hurt anyone, regardless of the lack of consequence when the time-lines reset, when the anomaly was reverted and all the after effects ceased to exist. In the first instance he still had to deal violence to someone, something he had trouble picturing. Though if he were honest it was the fact that he could picture it far too well. He could feel the bruising on the skin, the searing heat of being hit in the face, even though it was not his own. If he pummelled, if he used a weapon, something hard and unforgiving to strike with then he could fancy that he would feel the bone connecting. The idea that it could give under the force of the blow, snapping or cracking from his actions. He felt that in his imagination and he could not distance himself from it.


So when Simon flinched, ducked away from the blow with his own hands held up then he felt a relief that he may not have to go through with the plan as it was intended and that he could disable the guard without violence. He blushed in the revelation that he was not going to commit violence, and he smiled at the reprieve. Simon came out from his duck and cover routine to see a man white, nervous and smiling at him, suddenly the attacker had gone from an impending and unavoidable attack to a non threatening and inexperienced assailant.


One who could be fought back against. Simon reached for his own gun, holstered and clipped though it was, as Brian was fiddling with the handcuffs, ready to incapacitate Simon the guard. He was as unprepared for action as Brian was and he fumbled the clasp on his holster, unable to get it free in a smooth motion. In the same time Brian re-assessed his own situation and all of the nerves, the reticence and the empathy he had evaporated as he saw a man, reaching for a gun to shoot him. The preservation instinct kicked in and he lashed out and caught Simon square on the temple, as he had twisted to try and open the dome clasp on his hip.


Simon fell like a sack of potatoes, keeling over with a thud and blood started pouring from the gash left by the butt of the gun.


“You good?” Came the question from Mike who had Nick on the ground, face down and in cuffs with his hands clasped behind his back.


“Yeah.” Brian just stared at Simon, unconscious and bleeding in front of him.


“Brian?”


“I'm good. Really.” Brian made the OK sign with his thumb and finger, misreading the sentiment from Mike.


“The cuffs. He won't stay unconscious forever.” Mike nodded at Simon and that spurred his partner into action.


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