How To Rob A Bank Page #3

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I always keep my end of the deal.

What are you gonna do now?

- I think I just did it.

- Yeah?

Yeah.

Officer DeGepse here.

How're you two holding up?

I'm not holding up anything.

That'd be the guys outside the vault.

Okay, then, what's your status?

I think my status and your status

are the same status.

Sort of stuck in a status.

Still locked in a vault.

Unable to get out.

Surrounded by armed robbers

who would love to get in.

Even if they could get into the

vault, they certainly can't get out...

because they're surrounded by you

who would love to throw them in prison.

Which I don't think

is part of their plan.

That seem about right to you, sir?

F***!

Yeah, that sounds right.

Well, hang in there,

while we continue to try...

to establish communications

with the suspects.

You want help?

Thank you but we have

the matter well in hand.

Do you have their phone number?

No. They usually try

to establish contact with us...

some time around this point.

Maybe you should just call them.

Thank you for your advice...

but we'll have to wait for them

to communicate with us.

- Okay?

- All right...

but if you need the number just

holler and I'll give it to you.

I saw them leaving.

Not anything particular

Not suspicious.

It's just that... he...

What was that?

It's just... he was kind of hot.

Any new developments?

Right.

Hello. DeGepse again.

- Hey, there, what's up?

- You said you have their phone number?

Yes. Yes, sir.

That's affirmative, sir.

You want it now?

Yes. That would be helpful.

- You got a pen, pencil?

- Just give me the number.

Uh, it's 367-9389.

No, no, no. It's 367-9389.

It's a six...

Simon. That's his name?

I asked the same exact question.

I think he's using a fake name.

We're not too worried

about that right now, are we?

I guess not.

Yeah. Anyway, ask for Simon.

Tell him Jinx gave you the number.

I'll do that.

F***.

I saw that.

That is why I got a good look at him.

- Distinguishing features?

- Don't you have something better to do?

He's calling Simon.

Keep him busy for a while.

Good. We can use that time.

So what's the deal?

What's they key to all this?

You know, what is it?

Well, first of all,

it's not keys, it's codes.

That's the deal.

I thought I was getting

the hang of this.

I didn't exactly major

in felony philosophy.

Okay. Well, you see all these

safety deposit boxes.

Each one belongs

to an individual bank customer.

Not the typical sentimental valuables,

love letters, or some kids Play Do art.

This is a central bank.

They hold all the sh*t people

want to keep safe.

The only problem is...

you have to individually break in

to every to box to get the contents.

Well, we've got a choice.

We can try and physically

break into every box...

or we can electronically

break into one box.

Right.

Hey, whoa there. Chatty.

Professor Felony...

giving a master's lock lecture.

You care to elaborate a bit.

- We have our ways.

- And what way would that be?

- Ways.

- Ways? Just ways?

Yeah, I'm feeling

pretty confident now.

- We just got 'em, okay?

- No, it's not okay.

It's not okay at all.

This so solid plan of yours,

it just went south. Didn't it?

I am being held hostage in a vault...

conspiring to do God knows...

what with my captor-slash-you know,

partner. Whatever you are.

I don't what I'm doing. I don't even

know what I'm partners in...

except sharing a locked vault.

Don't "huh" with me. I'm

supposed to be the "huh" guy.

I'm supposed to be the one who's

clueless about how to rob a bank not you.

My end of the deal was to get

your ass out of here. Your alibi.

And, if you haven't noticed...

we're a far cry from two

city blocks out of this mess.

Which just so happens to be the

missing part of your full-proof plan.

In return, you provide a wealth

of criminal knowledge...

from your B.A. degree

in Bachelor of Armed Robbery.

So that's the deal. And if that's not

the deal, then we have no deal.

So, deal with it.

You hungry?

I was stopping to get a bite

and I stopped at the ATM.

My twenty bucks.

Sweetie, you must

be running on fumes by now.

Yeah. I... I am, thank you.

Now, seriously,

where did you get the codes?

Come on. Where did they come from?

Seriously?

Seriously, I don't know.

- How does that work?

- I'm just a hired gun...

The codes were texted to Simon...

and they were beamed to my phone.

Who texted? You mean someone

else sent the codes?

Some guy.

It's all very anonymous these days.

It's the best way to

do business. You know, it's safe.

If you don't know anything about them.

They don't know anything about you.

You can't turn each other in.

We're freelancers. Temps, of sorts.

You sound like you just

answered a help wanted ad.

It's exactly like you answered

a help wanted ad.

Off the Internet actually.

What do you think half those useless

blogs are really about?

You need somebody to do a job...

you need plausible deniability.

You post a topic.

Pre-arranged site.

Seemingly meaningless, random.

You don't think we're a bunch

of disorganized thugs...

in a hideaway, do you?

No, I guess I never really

thought about it.

Exactly. Who's going to monitor the

Duran Duran fan forum chat room...

when there's real crime

out on the streets.

Did you just say Duran Duran?

Yep.

Why not Zepplin?

Everybody Zepplin is a forum

for CIA counter-terrorism.

You gotta be kidding me.

Zepplin are spooks...

and Duran Duran are an eighties,

pretty-boy...

bad ass crime syndicate?

That is just not right.

No, it's absolutely true.

If someone posts "Looking for...

"A View To Kill,"...

that means "Assassin Wanted."

If someone posts

"Are You Hungry Like the Wolf"...

that means hired hands for a bank job.

And so on.

So you're saying Duran Duran...

is at the center of an international

crime syndicate.

I seriously doubt Nick Rhodes or

Simon Le Bon are actually involved...

But it's not a bad place to hide,

now is it?

Did you just say "Simon"?

Yeah, see. I told you.

- This is weird.

- Not really.

I mean, forget about

porn sites and dot coms.

Crime really is what pays.

And the Internet business

is booming.

You just can't buy a stock,

you have to steal it.

Okay, fine. Whatever.

But why Duran Duran?

Why?

Why not? Anyway.

Anyway. Simon gets the codes.

We get in here.

They hold the place down while

I do my computer work.

The boxes are open. We grab and go.

So the guy who sent

the codes gets a cut, huh?

It's almost civil really.

Exchange a few numbers

for a percentage.

It's just a surcharge

of a different name, I guess.

Well, this particular guy

just wanted a PIN number.

PIN number?

All I want to know

is who gave you my number...

That's not important right now.

What's important is the safety

of the people you have inside.

Us safely resolving

this situation.

Whatever.

Jinx gave them up, didn't he?

I'm sorry, I don't know

what you're talking about.

Cut the crap! That little punk

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