Jack sat in his car opposite the bank waiting for it to open. He's all pumped up, his adrenelin at maximum as he fingers the automatic assault rifle in his hand.
At 19 Jack's a real thug with a record of petty crime and petty violence. This will be his biggest job yet. He's 1m 80, with cropped brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. His musclar body showing the 8 hours a week he spends working out.
He's twitching with impatience, they're late opening. Then he sees the guard unlock the doors. He gets out of the car and walks casually over to the bank, passing quickly through the doors, jamming them closed behind him. The guard hardly has time to protest before he's sent crashing to the floor by the butt of the assault rifle.
There's only one counter open and Jack goes straight to it, the assault rifle pointing menacingly at the teller.
"Don't scream! Don't even think of pushing the alarm! These are armour piercing bullets."
"Now open the screen, and put all the money in these bags. Do you understand?"
At 19 Jack's a real thug with a record of petty crime and petty violence. This will be his biggest job yet. He's 1m 80, with cropped brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. His musclar body showing the 8 hours a week he spends working out.
He's twitching with impatience, they're late opening. Then he sees the guard unlock the doors. He gets out of the car and walks casually over to the bank, passing quickly through the doors, jamming them closed behind him. The guard hardly has time to protest before he's sent crashing to the floor by the butt of the assault rifle.
There's only one counter open and Jack goes straight to it, the assault rifle pointing menacingly at the teller.
"Don't scream! Don't even think of pushing the alarm! These are armour piercing bullets."
"Now open the screen, and put all the money in these bags. Do you understand?"
