The three oath-bound underwear-clad conspirators cautiously made their way through the dark imposing recesses of the Maklai Provincial Bank. The weak light from the torch cast angular shadows along the walls. The ordinary became sinister, the familiar warped and distorted, angular and threatening. A fork of lightning streaked momentarily across the blackened sky. The blaze of light flashed through the open door behind them at the end of the building. For an instant the inside of the bank was brightly lit, exposing their criminality, and their fear. As quickly as it had been taken from them, the menacing darkness of the dimly torch-lit hallway returned.
A colossal roll of thunder roared from the sky, close above, shaking the floor and rattling the windows in their frames. The attack on their frayed nerves increased the rapid beating of their hearts, hearts that were failing to hide the anxieties they desperately needed to suppress. There was a moment of calm. Gradually the monotonous drone of the steady rain on the roof above them and in the compound of the bank regained its place as the dominant noise that surrounded them. They let the soft familiar sound provide comfort and form part of the blanket of darkness in which they sought protection. A little of their courage returned and they cautiously resumed their journey, creeping through the still, empty corridor.
Kheng was glad that the torch light was so dim. The three of them were less likely to be seen by anyone who happened to be passing outside as they stalked their way through the bank. Similarly, the gentle drumming of the rain on the roof above and the ground outside formed a protective cloak around them. It would cover any noise they might make, but also discourage any towns-people from venturing out and, by chance, spotting their movements inside the bank. Back in the village, during his childhood, it was well known that at times of rain the likelihood of thieves roaming amongst them increased.
As a boy, his grandfather had told him tales about bad men who lurked in the shadows, waiting for the storm to dull the senses of their victims and provide these bad men cover for their movements. On stormy nights, Kheng had lain on the floor in the room where he would sleep. The downpours would bombard the corrugated tin roof above while Kheng listened attentively through the din for any suspicious movement outside in the compound. It was a lesson that had served him well in the army in later years. The sound of rainfall was not only cover for thieves. Now the tables were turned as he was the one enjoying the cover that the storm provided.
The Feiquon Heist Description:
“Three people, three problems, one solution.
That’s why the three of us have to rob this bank.
What’s more, we have to do it tonight.”
The colossal roll of thunder that roared from the night sky, close above, shaking the floor and rattling the windows in their frames did nothing to steady Kheng’s frayed nerves or suppress his increasing anxiety as he cautiously led his co-conspirators through the dark corridors of the Maklai Provincial bank.
Still, once they’d made it through to the safe room, all they had to do was take the money that they needed and make their way back out. It was a simple plan, and would solve the ever-growing burden of problems that had been forming since old Papa Han had passed away.
It had never occurred to Kheng that his co-conspirators might have some very different ideas of their own about how the robbery should eventually play out. He was even less aware that he was far from alone in his attempts to capitalise on the evolving circumstances of recent weeks.
Deciding to plan a heist of the provincial bank in a sleepy backwater town in South East Asia wasn’t going to be the straightforward solution that Kheng had imagined, even if he did have the advantage of being the bank’s longest-serving night guard.
