The marble floor of Glen valley bank clicked with the heels of tellers, marching back and forth with notes, writs and so forth. It was a quiet Monday morning, the only traffic an older couple and a logging man, depositing his profits for the calendar month. Sean Havery looked on with pride at the well-oiled machine he had built, his employees resplendent in pressed white thin striped shirts and navy-blue ties. Their shoes shone despite the dust drawn in and every window sparkled .
He died with a smile on his face.
“Everybody down!” Two masked men entered the building their long coats open over dark suits, two with shotguns swinging around in a scanning arch. Led by one holding a smoking revolver, the other two went to either side of the room, clearing each booth and dragging each person into the center and walking unhurried to the bank manager’s body, leaning down to pull the chain of keys from the man’s belt. Four tellers, the old couple and the builder lay on the cold floor, hands spread as they watched the boots of the two robbers circle. Revolver held aloft, he walked to the vault door and began unlocking it. Moments passed where the only sound was the thunk thunk thunk of vault bars retracting until finally he pulled at the handle and the door opened. He looked inside and chuckled, a low gruff sound. “Looks like we’re in business boys.”
“Actually, I think you’re rather not.”