“It was supposed to be easy. A quick smash and grab, in and out before anyone knew they were there, and then it was off to paradise with more money than they could spend in a lifetime. Hell, two lifetimes! Shoulda known nothing was ever that easy…”
Six convicts.
One helluva score.
What could possibly go wrong?
Originally published on the Quest of Evolution by Joseph Nassise.
Every con needs a Face. Someone to handle the marks, to put them at ease with a quick smile and some friendly banter; make them think that everything will turn out just fine, don’t worry, be happy, never mind that their gut was telling them that they were looking at a wolf in sheep’s clothing even if their eyes weren’t making the connection.
The Face was a vital part of any smash-and-grab crew and Marco took their position on the team very seriously. Their soft features and gentle tone disarmed even the most suspicious individuals, allowing even their prison tattoos to be overlooked by their targets. The sheep had a bad habit of wanting to think well of the people around them, they knew, and they ruthlessly used that to their advantage, all while smiling and chatting away. Appearances can be deceiving was a lesson most often learned the hard way.
This morning Marco was dressed in a loose fitting button-down shirt, casual slacks, and comfortable shoes. Nothing that would call undo attention or be easy to remember when the dust had settled. Their shirt was even buttoned all the way up, partially hiding the tattoo on their neck. The manager, Mr. Duarte, didn’t like it being visible anyway. Said it scared the customers.
Weren’t they going to be surprised?
Marco had been playing the part of a temporary staffer sent over from the employment agency for the past two weeks, learning the routine, watching how things were done. They played the role of the social butterfly perfectly, making friends with everyone, their charm and easy manner hiding the important questions amidst the innocuous ones, leaving no one the wiser.
Standing across the street from their destination, they took a moment to pin their name tag to their shirt – the one that read Marco followed by They/Them underneath the name in big white letters – and then plastered their ever present smile back on their face, ready for another shift in that bastion of finance and corporate greed.
The wolf was back among the sheep and they were growing hungry.
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