The Drake

Amber City, a modern city with everything you’d expect out of a normal, American, urban metropolis. There are skyscraping office buildings downtown, shops and other businesses uptown. Suburbs a mere thirty-minute drive away from the rest of the city.

American National, one of many banks found within Amber City, was going to close in thirty minutes, even though there was a long line this Friday afternoon. Many people, mostly businessmen dressed in well-kept shirts and ties, were patiently waiting in line in to make their deposits.

On the rooftop of the building across the street lay a costumed man on his belly. He spied on the bank through a pair of binoculars, careful to keep out of sight. Peering away from the binoculars, he glanced at a marquee down the street displaying the time; it read 4:41 PM.

“Okay, just a little longer and I’ll spring it.”

Looking back into his binoculars, he observed two police officers having coffee at the caf� on the corner. The man put down the binoculars and pulled out a phone from on of the many utility pockets on his person. He dialed a number quickly.

“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

“I’d like to report gang activity on Paper Street and Magnolia Avenue. I think there might be a shooting going down there soon. I saw a few shady figures flashing signs and talking about some ‘action’ going down there. I’d prefer to stay anonymous about this.”

“We’ll send our nearest officers to investigate, thank you for the tip off.”

*Click*

He picked the binoculars back up and returned his gaze to the officers. One of the officers picked up his radio. He got up quickly, put a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and headed toward a patrol car parked on the curb. The other officer followed.

The costumed man checked the marquee again.

“4:48, I guess it’s time.”

He dashed toward the nearest fire escape and jumped down the flights to get to the ground in a dark alley. The officers that were at the caf� zoomed past him in a police car. He waited a few seconds and ran across the street into the bank, pulling out a small remote control from his belt.

“Good afternoon everyone!” he flicked a switch on the remote, “in case you don’t know already, I am The Drake, and today I,” he pressed a button on the remote. The entrance to the bank erupted in flames and became impassable, “am robbing this bank.” He let out a quick chuckle, flicked another switch, and pressed the button again, “oh, and I wouldn’t worry about any silent alarms.” A loud explosion rocked the building from the roof. The lights went dark.

“So, now down to business,” he casually walked through the crowd. Everyone was too shocked to move or speak.

“Everyone on the ground, hands where I can see them.” He said this unenthusiastically, showing that it was clearly a routine procedure for him. “No one has t…” a bold young man ran up to him and tried to punch him in the face. In one swift move, The Drake ducked down, clipped the remote back onto his belt, unsheathed the daggers at his sides, and spun around on one leg, slashing the man’s stomach twice and kicking him to the desk behind him.

The Drake puts his daggers away and pulled out his remote again. “You know, I think Paper Lance said it best,” he walked over to the man, who was gasping for breath on the floor and clutching his stomach with his right hand. He flicked a switch, placed the remote in the man’s left hand, carefully wrapping the man’s fingers around it and placing the thumb on the button, “don’t be a hero.” The Drake kicked the man, forcing him to clench his hands and, inadvertently, pressing the button on the detonator. An explosion knocked out a wall where five people were cowering on the floor, now dead.

“That’s on your head now. You gunna’ stop now?” All the man could do was gasp for air as tears rolled down his face. “Okay, as I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted,” he retrieved his remote from the man, “no one else has to die today. I’m here for the banks money, not yours. I guarantee you, your money is safe, unless you managed to stow away more than six figures, in which case, you probably deserve to have this money taken anyway. No one has to struggle, you can all go about your business after I’m done here, I don’t feel like taking hostages today, that got old last week.”

He walked over to one of the tellers nonchalantly, a young blonde girl who was clearly scared out of her mind. He leaned on the counter and looked directly at the teller, though his mask concealed his entire face except for his eyes.

“Would you kindly open that door over there so I could get to the vault?” She tried her best to keep herself from panicking and opened the door for The Drake.

“Thanks babe,” he slapped her rear. She gasped. “I don’t suppose you could take me over to the vault, too?” She walked slowly to the vault, The Drake following close behind.

“Thanks, you’re a real doll, sugar. Oh, I’d take cover if I were you,” she turned away and started to quickly walk away. He grabbed her arm before she got away, making her scream. “Oh, and if you’re free tonight, how’s about dinner on me? Anywhere you like, not like I can’t afford it.” He let go of her arm and laughed manically as she ran out of the room, hyperventilating.

“Psh, women…” He turned his attention to the vault door, “okay, time to get serious. This door’s about two feet high carbon steel, soo…” He reached for two separate compartments on opposite sides of his costume, pulling a small ball from both pouches, “this should do it!”

He threw both balls simultaneously against the vault door and turned around. A loud ripping sound rang through the air as the contents of the two orbs combined. The Drake turned back around to observe his work. The door had already melted through around the impact spot, and molten iron and smoke were pouring from the edges of the hole.

“It’s so much easier to break down steel than it is to try and cut through it, makes the job that much easier.”

By now, a hole large enough for him to walk through had formed. He slid into the vault, careful not to touch the molten parts. Pulling a large, durable plastic bag from his pouch, he started to fill it exclusively with one hundred dollar bills. By the time the bag was filled, the hole in the vault door had widened considerably. Walking out of the door, he made his way to the upper levels of the bank.

In the lobby, the fire department had opened up an entrance to the bank after putting out the fires in the front and using various excavation tools to move the debris out of the way. While people were being evacuated and treated for burns, police rushed into the building after The Drake.

At the fifth floor, The Drake found a large glass window. He threw a small orb at it. A small concussive blast shattered the glass into the street. He pulled out his remote and flicked a switch at the very bottom.

“Freeze mister!”

The Drake turned around to find a police officer holding a gun to him.

“Ah, I seem to be a bit slower than usually. Shouldn’t you be out arresting protesters or shooting kids or something?”

“Just put your hands in the air and step away from the window, no one has to get hurt.”

“I know, right? I say that every single time I hold up a place, and there’s always that one guy who just HAS to try and fight me. I mean, just look at me,” he turns around quickly, “isn’t this imposing enough? I mean, it’s basically body armor, and everyone thinks they’re gunna be Billy Badass and stop the mean old thief. It gets kind of old.”

“Look sir, I’m sure we can negotiate something for you if you just come peacefully downstairs with me, there’s no way out now.”

“You treat me like I’m some common psychopath, it’s hurtful, really. You should get to know me, I could be a nice guy once you get rid of all your government planted, preconceived notions about me. You probably don’t even know who I am.”

“Okay then, who are you?”

“It’s about time you asked,” he turned around and stepped toward the edge of the window, “I’m The Drake. Gotta go!”

He jumped into the air, gripping the bag of money with his left hand, and pulling a cord on his backpack with his right. Out popped a large hang glider in the shape of a pair of dragon’s wings. He pressed a button on his remote and quickly strapped it back onto his belt. The entire fourth floor of the bank erupted into flames. The force of the blast propelled the hang glider a city block away. Still clinging to the bag, The Drake collapsed the hang glider into the backpack with a second tug of the cord and landed on a rooftop. Using his dagger, he sliced a hole in the bottom of the bag and zigzagged across the rooftops of the local slums, raining money down on the people below. Making his way further uptown, he stopped after a four or so blocks to check his bag.

“Whoops, gotta leave some for me, too.” He took a lighter and brought the flame to the slit in the bag. The bag mended itself.

“Gotta love that Intellifabric.”

He continued dashing across rooftops, eventually dropping down into an alley between two apartment buildings. Bounding off the fire escapes on the sides of the two buildings, he landed gracefully on his feet. In front of him was a man in a large trench coat leaning against a wall, next to him, a rather large briefcase.

“You’re late, I was about to think that this was a set up. Been looking over my shoulder for cops all evening.”

“Please, like I would cooperate with those pigs. Besides, by now I’d figure they’d shoot on site.”

“You run into any on the way?”

“Yeah, the pig had no idea who I was, freaking idiot. My face is probably plastered over the walls of every police station and post office by now next to a five figure bounty.”

“Please, you just another costume now-a-days.”

The Drake took offence.

“Hey, I’m good at what I do.”

“So was Breaker, they got him down by the power plant last week.”

“What, really? Breaker?”

“Yup, got him while he was staking out the lines going to the power stations. They’re probably getting him multiple life.”

“For what, a few blackouts? The guy was inelegant and small time. Me? I’m a full fledged terrorist.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you didn’t hear the interesting part.”

The Drake folded his arms, listening.

“Get this, he managed to last half a minute with Cosmic Man before getting knocked out.”

“Cosmic Man? What the hell does he do?”

“He’s a new super. He can blind people temporarily, has super strength, and he can fly.”

The Drake scoffed, “Supers are so inelegant. No real plan or grace, just bust in and keep using brute force till you win.”

“Hey, it’s working. All the big dealers in the neighborhood have gone deep underground. The liquor stores are open later ‘cause all the small time thieves are shitting they’re pants over the Hawk signal. Hell, I haven’t been able to push half of the crap I used to since Blurr started patrolling around here. What’s the point of a gun when the other guy can outrun a bullet?”

“Well, it just makes us improve ourselves that much more. These supers are just over-hyped hacks, you’ll see.”

“Sure, sure. I suppose you’ll be wanting this too,” the man in the trench coat grabbed a briefcase that was on the ground next to him. He handed it to The Drake, “Extra phosphorus, just like you asked. Oh and my price went up.”

The Drake quickly pulled out a dagger and pinned the man against the wall with the blade against his neck.

“Please don’t tell me you’re gunna try to pull this shit on me.”

“Hey man,” the trench coat wearing man coughed, “business is hurting. I gotta make my money somehow.”

“I’ll pay the price we agreed on, nothing more.”

“Fine, fine. But the next batch is gunna come at a premium.”

“Fair enough,” The Drake drops the man. He counting out money from the bag and hands a stack of cash to the man, “there, twenty grand, don’t spend it all at one place.”

“You know, money wouldn’t be such an issue to you if you’d stop giving it out everywhere.”

“What the hell am I gunna do with a bag full of hundreds? Keeping myself on a budget helps me improve my game.”

“Whatever. Oh and if anyone asks, I just sold a fireworks kit to an enthusiast.”

“That’s your new cover? What happened to me just stealing it off you?”

“Too obvious,” the man started to walk away, “I’m leaving now, don’t wanna stay too long in one place.”

The Drake stuck the briefcase in the bag and climbed up the fire escape to the roof. He ran across rooftops deeper into the slums.

He thought to himself, If I’m going to make a name for myself, I’m going to have to pull off something big, during broad daylight. Soon, everyone’s gunna be talking about The Drake!