PART 1: THE BILL OF HEALTH JOB -- Calculations
While The Payday Chronicles film franchise portrayed impersonation as a game of latex masks and quick changes, Cassidy lived the reality of its demanding craft.
First, the crew needed a detailed 3D scan of the mark, with every nuance and detail of the face captured. Social media eased the task a great deal – a visit to the target’s Nexodus account often provided every image they needed – but it didn’t provide everything. A flexible mask with unique materials had to be manufactured and designed specifically for the wearer.
Constructing a single mask took at least twenty-four hours, and even then, the disguise wasn’t yet ready. Makeup artistry and hours with an assistant were required to complete the illusion.
The cost of a quality replication was steep, reaching into the thousands. To further compound the challenge, true impersonation required a myriad of skills: mimicking vocal nuances, replicating speech patterns, and emulating mannerisms. It was a tactic beyond ordinary reach.
Unfortunately for Obsidian Financial Holdings, Cassidy, motivated by her newest client’s predicament, had the skills necessary to pull off such a feat.
She stomped into the bank, her black pumps clicking on the polished marble floor. Her navy pantsuit hugged her every curve and swished with every step, drawing attention to her and the leather briefcase she clutched. The collar of her crisp white blouse, which she had tucked into her trousers, framed her neck with the elegance of a swan.
She hid her long red hair beneath a plain brown wig she styled into an updo while a sleek mask colored to match a light olive complexion concealed her striking beauty. Anybody who paid her any mind wouldn’t see Cassidy Cain, the Cain heiress and corporate ambassador. Instead, they saw Gianna Rizzo, the private investigator.
“Good morning,” the bank teller said as Cassidy approached the counter. “Welcome to Obsidian Financial Holdings. How may I assist you today?”
“Bring me Reginald Banks at once. Notify him that Gianna Rizzo requires his attention this instant.”
The teller nodded before informing her to wait in a nearby privacy booth.
Once she approached, the automatic glass slid open, revealing a plush interior with a soft, cream-colored carpet.
Cassidy placed the briefcase on the desk at the booth's center, popped open the clasps, and pulled out a manila envelope.
The sliding glass whooshed open, snagging her attention.
A short, fair-skinned banker shuffled in, his round belly straining against his suit jacket. His jet-black curly mustache, carefully waxed and styled, seemed to quiver with every breath.
“Ah, Miss Rizzo!” Mr. Banks said with a cheery voice. “It’s a joyous occasion to see you again! What business do you have with me today?”
Cassidy’s fingers twitched as a familiar tingle washed through her. With a quick flick of the wrist, she opened the folder and retrieved a business card made of heavy, high-quality cardstock. The image of a red fox face and a single fox tail was emblazoned in the center and offset the black background.
Mr. Banks’ eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“I received this in the mail today,” Cassidy said.
“A-Are you pulling my leg?”
“I’m not one for jests. Or incompetence. If I find that my box has been breached—”
“Breached?!” He snorted. “That’s preposterous! You can’t just waltz into the vault like it’s your house!”
Cassidy smacked her palm on the wooden table, cracking the air. “Then I demand an explanation for the existence of this letter!”
She flipped over the card, revealing silver text written in a cursive script.
I hope this message finds you well, Miss Rizzo. I am writing to inform you that the safety deposit box you kept in Obsidian Financial Holdings is now in my possession. You may ask how this is possible. I can only offer you this: there’s a reason they call me The Grandmaster of Theft.
I shall be in contact with you in a couple of days. Do not attempt to contact the authorities, for they will only interfere with our exchange.
I look forward to doing business with you.
“T-This must be a hoax!” Mr. Banks blurted. “The bank's safeguards are flawless!”
“You can't expect me to take your word for it. Show me my box at once.”
“Miss Rizzo, I assure you that your safety deposit box is in the safest place in the world! Our security measures are second to none – not even The Amity Mansion! We're always ahead of any criminal mind.”
“You are testing my patience,” Cassidy said, her voice simmering. “I demand access to my box this instant. I suggest you comply.”
“We’ll need to verify—”
“You know who I am! Lead me to the vault, now!”
“C-Certainly, Miss Rizzo! Follow me, please!”
Her breath caught in her throat. His crumbling was not something she had accounted for… Kakaz! Was he truly oblivious? Or was this some sort of clever ruse to ensnare her? It would be the latter if she were in his place. After all, breaking out of the vault would be a daunting task.
Does he even have a reason to suspect me?
She had ensured her guise as Gianna was beyond reproach. And he hadn’t shown any signs of being wise to her deception. In fact, he would’ve pressed for a signature were he uncertain!
A jolt shot through Cassidy’s body and bulged her eyes. The problem wasn’t his suspicion! Rather, his lack of suspicion resulted in her accidentally performing a social engineering trick!
When he requested verification, she feigned impatience. Impatience, unfortunately, was an effective tool for undermining some people’s commitment to security protocols. When faced with such pressure, people usually fell into one of three categories: flustered unease, cooperative or indifferent compliance, or complete stonewalling.
Evidently, Mr. Banks belonged to the first group.
Cassidy gritted her teeth. He had nevertheless made accomplishing her goal more difficult.
If, or more accurately when, Gianna Rizzo inspected her safety deposit box, she’d likely discover that it had been tampered with. Uncovering that would result in an investigation of what occurred. An inquiry would place Mr. Banks’ actions that day under a magnifying glass, likely resulting in him being fired for failing to adhere to protocol. Obsidian Financials could even use him as a scapegoat for the robbery. Either way, he’d be collateral damage.
An image from her last operation, The Sowing Tomorrow Gala Job two months prior, tore through Cassidy’s thoughts. A homeless man, someone she never knew and never would know, lay lifeless against a cold, indifferent wall, his body slumped to the left. A crescent gash stretched across his neck and seeped down a stream of thick crimson.
Her chest constricted as she pushed away the memory. No more casualties, she thought. She’d need to engineer a solution that wouldn’t undermine the mission.
As Cassidy pondered how to protect him, Mr. Banks reminded her of the protocol that the vault was to be accessed only with an escort. Then, he made a request, which a mocha-skinned guard answered.
The man was hired muscle personified.
His chest was like an iron shield, and his shoulders stretched the fabric of his navy-blue uniform. His thick neck supported a chiseled, square head, and his clean-shaven jawline was as sharp as a blade.
Crossing him would be unwise, Cassidy reasoned as his stern, brown eyes scrutinized her.
Mr. Banks introduced the man as Gary Ford. Cassidy offered a brief, polite nod to Mr. Ford, and then, following Mr. Banks' lead, the trio descended the stairway.
“While I understand your concern,” Mr. Banks said as they walked, “trust me when I say your possessions are in good hands. We have cameras everywhere and sensors that can detect the slightest movement. And our vaults! Impenetrable, I tell you! We have reinforced steel walls and state-of-the-art locks that cannot be picked by any thieves. Of course, we also have a security team trained to handle any situation. Thieves quake at the mere thought of robbing this vault!”
Cassidy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They did indeed have impressive security measures, but they were moot so long as she didn’t engage with them directly. “Are you not worried you are underestimating The Grandmaster and her clever tactics?"
“Hogwash! She may think she’s the grand poobah of thieves, but that doesn’t mean she’s any different from the rest of ‘em. There isn’t anything she can do to break into this place.”
Cassidy sealed her eyes before sucking in a deep breath, holding it in, and exhaling. Did she have to go out of her way for him? Watching his confidence crumble would be a delight… What’s more, he had made his own bed. Why not allow him to lie in it?
Because he’s in this predicament due to my actions, her conscience said.
She couldn’t afford to not care about his plight. There was no justice in advancing her cause at the cost of a civilian. Such actions were for common criminals, not protectors of her stature. She was The Grandmaster of Theft, the noble thief. Her actions wouldn’t always be legal, but she had to ensure they were always just.
Even when it tested her patience.
Upon arriving at the security door, Mr. Banks and Mr. Ford produced their access cards. Mr. Banks first swiped his card across the sensor, and the door light went from red to yellow. Then the guard swiped his and the light turned green. The door clicked open.
They entered a small, white room without any decorations or visible features besides a sophisticated camera embedded within the wall above the door to the vault. Mr. Banks stated that Gianna Rizzo would be entering the vault today, and after a moment, the thick vault door hissed and clanked open.
An air conditioning system pumped cool air throughout the bank vault’s interior while LED panels emitted a pale light that cast a cool glow on metallic walls. The boxes were arranged in neat rows, each seemingly identical to the next. They occupied most of the narrow room. The one space they didn’t was to the left of the entrance, where a cubicle constructed with steel panels resided. A privacy screen made of dark grey fabric hung from the metal frame.
Cassidy’s heart raced as she marched through the vault. Now or never, she thought as she approached the box with a metal plate labeled 077. She placed the briefcase down and, from within it, retrieved a copy of Gianna’s vault key she had made based on a photo.
The tiny silver key slid into the narrow keyhole of the safety deposit box. The lock disengaged with a barely audible click, and the door swung open on its hinges.
Cassidy reached inside and found a small box. With a gentle tug, the box slid out, revealing a smooth surface unmarred by any features.
This might prove interesting, she mused as she traced along the edges. She caught a subtle catch, and with a click, the box lid popped open.
A flash drive with a keypad was inside, nestled in a velvet cushion. The sturdy metallic casing was cool, and its sleek surface reflected the faint light from the LED panels above.
“It seems The Grandmaster’s words were baseless after all,” Cassidy said. “Nevertheless, I will keep this in my possession as insurance.”
“Out of the bank?” Mr. Banks flailed his arms and shook his head. “No, no, no! You must keep it here, Miss Rizzo. This is the safest place you'll find. The Grandmaster is just trying to shake your confidence in us.”
Cassidy stifled a smirk. It seemed the gears in his brain were finally turning. Moreover, she had to give credit where credit was due; that wasn’t a terrible deduction. If only he had been that cautious initially…
Her eyes widened as her thoughts clicked into place. She could achieve her goal and ensure his safety in a single brushstroke! It was so simple! So simple that the corners of her mouth twitched before she swallowed the laugh that threatened to escape.
“It is you who has shaken my confidence,” Cassidy said, “not The Grandmaster.”
“M-Me?!” Mr. Banks cried out. “How?!? What did I do?!”
“You did not exercise the caution and attention to detail required of your position. You never once verified my identity.”
“But… you’re clearly you!”
“A true professional would have been able to complete the task under any circumstance. You didn’t meet my expectations.”
Her words struck Mr. Banks like a bulldozer knocking down a wall. He stood there, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes as large as saucers. His body was still as if frozen in place, and his arms hung limply at his side.
Stellar, Cassidy thought. Everything was falling into place perfectly. “I will see to it that your superiors are made aware of this.”
Mr. Banks’ forehead was slick with sweat, which he wiped with the back of his sleeve. “Please,” he whispered, “have a heart. I’m just a lowly banker who made one mistake. I swear, it won’t happen again. And I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.” He licked his lips, and his eyes darted around the room, avoiding her gaze. “Just give me a chance.”
“Even if I were to consider forgiving you, don’t forget that there are others present who are aware of your transgressions.”
Cassidy gestured towards Mr. Ford, but the hulking man remained a statue.
Mr. Banks spun around and lowered his head. “Spare me, I beg you.”
Cassidy bit back a smirk while the next steps to her scheme unfolded in her mind.
Mr. Ford would surely insist otherwise, as was his duty to the bank. Once he did, she could step in with her masterstroke: Honestly, I didn’t actually plan to report him.
Her comment would definitely take Banks and Ford by surprise, after which she’d clarify.
A man whose stumbled once and learned from it becomes inherently more cautious and useful. Mr. Banks, etch this stumble into your soul and let it guide your actions henceforth.
Mr. Banks would surely agree to that. And Mr. Ford would find it sensible to forgive this fault regardless of what his inner world was ruled by. If he was emotionally inclined, he wouldn’t punish a small error harshly. If he was logically driven, he’d see the value in retaining an employee who learned from his mistake.
Either way, she’d finesse Mr. Banks out of trouble.
“You don’t need to grovel,” Mr. Ford said, his voice soft. “I ain’t gonna make a fuss.”
Pardon?! Cassidy bristled.
Mr. Banks popped his head up. “R-really?!”
“We all have our moments,” Mr. Ford said. “Miss Rizzo, we’re all human here. Cut the guy some slack.”
Cassidy flickered with quick blinks. But my strategy…
All the effort in plotting that strategic marvel, only to see him bow out before the show even started…
Oh well. Unexpected luck isn’t something to bemoan.
“…We must attend to the overlooked verification before I depart,” Cassidy said. “It is imperative that we conceal any evidence if we intend to keep this confidential.”
With a relieved voice, Mr. Banks said, “Oh, thank you, Miss Rizzo!”
“Additionally,” Cassidy said, “I shall be taking my flash drive with me. It is my personal property, and I have the authority to handle it as I deem appropriate.”
“Very well,” Mr. Banks said, “if that’s your decision.”
The rest was child’s play. First, she flawlessly recreated Gianna’s signature on the sheet that confirmed she was taking something out. After that, they returned to the earlier verification. Again, Cassidy supplied a forged ID and Gianna’s code, which was simple because the crew had hacked the bank servers. Once everything was complete, she exited the building with her head held high and entered an almost unremarkable black sedan nestled among many other vehicles. The one difference was the dimmed windows.
“Made it in and out without causing a scene for once,” her bodyguard and right-hand man Wynn said, his bronze complexion harmonizing with his slicked-back, crow-black hair. He wore frameless sunglasses with rounded rectangular lenses that covered his difficult-to-discern face. “Guess miracles can happen.”
“I don’t create chaos,” Cassidy said, her voice smooth and melodic. “I simply thrive in it.”
“Yeah, yeah. You find anything worthwhile in the box?”
“Just a trinket that could potentially change the game, no big deal.”
She snapped a picture of the flash drive with her phone and texted Crow. Do you recognize this?
CipherTech’s Gen 3 DataDrive, Crow replied. Super high-security stuff. You gotta punch in the right code to get it to open. But, and this is a big but, make too many wrong attempts, and boom, all the data's toast.
What’s the trick to opening it?
Pluck out the internal storage, jam it into a compatible SSD, and run my cracker program. It’ll cough up the passcode. Pop the internal storage back into its original drive, and you're all set.
Cassidy granted herself a smirk. Dr. Landon Billings – her actual target – would be within her reach in record time.
Marc, MARC ?!
Hm?
I got to say, that was an interesting beginning. Just a simple heist with mind-games.
Thanks for the chapter.
The con is back on! :D I'm hoping I can top Confessions with this one.