The Sound of Money

by James Haresign

work. The entire plan had way too many ifs attached to it. Especially with the phone call I received next.

  As soon as I answered the phone I knew I was in trouble.

  “Taylor, I want to know exactly what's going on,” Assistant Director Caldwell's Portland accent barked out of the speaker.

  Caldwell did manage to stay quiet throughout the whole explanation, once it was done, however, “So you're having a stab in the dark here?”

  “I'm not sure what else we can expect to do, sir. We have no leads on who, and the only Power we can identify as having any abilities close to this is White Noise. Though that really is simply sound generation, and he's been spotted operating on the east coast just last week. We're having to put together theories and see how they hold up.”

  “See how they hold up? Taylor, if your theories are wrong then that means another bank has its vault emptied.”

  “Yes sir, that is the unfortunate truth about it. But if we are wrong we'll at least have more of an idea what to do next.” I hated myself for saying it as it left my mouth. It was a ridiculous stance to take. I wanted this guy, and I wanted him in Seattle.

  “What about the Raven angle? From your reports it seems this has been entirely forgotten when the Power theory got raised. You do realise that the two aren't exclusive?”

  I was quite aware of the theory that Raven was so good because he was a Power. I'm not sure I bought it though. “The vibrations discounts Raven, nothing else. Quantum Labs have confirmed it's all the exact same frequency and no equipment at any of the banks would create that.”

  “I'll be landing in an hour. I want everything laid out when I get there. We'll see what you've missed.”

  It was no surprise he'd taken special interest in this case. If we didn't stop him his home town looked to be next. Well, that is if our theory of him building up to Seattle was totally off the money. If that turned out to be the way, I'd be lucky if Caldwell even kept me on the case, never mind lead agent.

  As I started to collect the files for the Assistant Director to go over, a siren started to sound in the main office. I looked through the glass wall to see what the hell was going on and spotted Durham just reaching my door. She spun in and grinned at me.

  “We've got a hit. The Bank of Columbia's sensors just tripped.”

  As I leaped out my chair, grabbed my jacket and sprinted for the door I had a grin on my face too. We'd actually been right.

  Durham and I arrived there in less than ten minutes. Lincoln and Brundell were already waiting for us at the staging area we'd claimed a few doors down. Brundell had actually been the agent on shift watching the place.

  “Not a great deal to report so far. It took seven minutes from the outside wall sensors being triggered for the money to start disappearing. We've got SWAT all stacked up to go. Just waiting on your word.”

  I nodded and turned to the wall of screens showing the various feeds from the bank's cameras. Just as before, the bricks of money were vanishing from their place. The SWAT team were stationed on either side of the door. The plan was that once the device locking the suspect in the room was activated, the door would be opened and SWAT would form a human wall. Quantum Labs assured us that whoever this was wouldn't be able to pass through human tissue. I hoped they were right - the last thing I needed was for everything to go right at this stage only for him to get away. Especially with Caldwell arriving in forty five minutes.

  I looked at the technician sitting by the activation for the resonator device and gave him the go ahead. I was holding my breath as the switch was thrown.

  My jaw nearly hit the floor as the device worked even better than expected. Suddenly, right next to the pile of money, was a man holding a duffel bag full of cash.

  Going against everything we were expecting, the suspect wasn't wearing the typical bodysuit and mask that you see Powers wearing on Fox News. This guy looked like any kid off the street, blue jeans and a grey hoodie. He at least had the decency to have the hood up. However, when he appeared he looked straight at the camera, clearly shocked by this change in his luck, and we could see his face quite clearly. He seemed young. Early twenties, possibly even late teens. The press were going to have a field day that someone so young had pulled off such spectacular robberies.

  The vault door swung open and SWAT started to form their human wall, guns raising towards the kid.

  He didn't give them a chance to react though, his arm swung in an arc, the faint hum we heard before suddenly increased in volume to deafening levels. The enhanced microphones nearly blew our speakers. The SWAT team were all bowled over onto their backs as if hit by something. The kid wasted no time and bolted for the door, leaping over them and headed for the bank's main door. The one SWAT officer not part of the human line stopped clutching his ears and started to raise his gun, but got a bag full of cash to the face.

  I stopped watching the screens and made for the door. As I leaped down the stairs I swore to myself for not planning more. We'd been so caught up on the fact he could walk through walls and appear invisible to cameras we'd not thought about him having any other powers that might help him escape. We had no marked cars surrounding the place. No cops nearby. It had been the device worked or it didn't. I could hear the others right behind me. Brundell was barking into a phone for backup.

  I crashed through the door and as I looked to the Bank of Columbia, I saw the kid running straight for us. He must have spotted me too, as he immediately cut right down a side street.

  I was after him straight away. As I made it to the side street he was nearly at the other end. The kid was fast. Probably too fast. I hoped he didn't have the steam to keep that pace up.

  He was across the road as I made it to the end of the side street. Without even looking I ran in front of the traffic. I couldn't let him get away. Tyres screeched, and a small crunch. I glanced back as Lincoln pushed himself off a car hood unhurt. I heard Brundell identify us as FBI. Drivers shouted back. I didn't care. I was across and the kid was starting to slow down. I had him. He ducked into another alley. As I slammed into the wall trying to turn too fast I pulled up my gun and screamed. “FBI. Freeze.”

  To my astonishment the kid did exactly that, hands in the air, the works. We filtered in and surrounded him.

  Brundell went forward with his cuffs, pulling an arm down as I started to read him his rights. Then we heard a voice.

  “I don't think so.” From the other end of the alley was another guy that looked like he'd been watching way too many movies; full length black trenchcoat and sunglasses. It was ridiculous.

  “FBI business. Move along.” Lincoln instructed him. The guy seemed to smile. With our attention on the new arrival, the kid swung at Brundell. His fist seemed to hum through the air. The punch connected and Brundell collapsed to the ground, far too limply for him to be awake. It didn't look like that strong of a hit, must be the kid's abilities again. As I shifted my attention back to the kid a flash went off in front of me like someone had held a camera right next to my eye to take a picture. Gunshots started to go off as I blinked my eyes clear. Not our guns either. This was something bigger, a .45 maybe?

  Vision started to clear, and what I thought was just blur turned out to be two people now stood where there had just been one. Alongside our suspect now was the guy from the other end of the alleyway, and more importantly a bright silver Desert Eagle that had just taken out Durham and Lincoln.

  I started to raise my gun, but the kid in the hoodie raised his arm, and pointed his fist straight at me. Suddenly it felt like I'd been hit by a freight train. My arm erupted in pain. As I hit the wall five feet behind me so did my lower back. It looked like that had taken a lot out of the kid. The one who appeared out of thin air caught him and with his gun in his spare hand, plugged a SWAT officer as he came round the corner.

  My right arm and lower back felt horrific. I tried to move but the arm wouldn't respond. My legs wouldn't either but there didn't seem to be any pain there. Maybe they were just trapp
ed.

  Ignoring the pain, I reached out and grabbed hold of my gun. Ignore the pain. Raised it. I can do this one handed. I just need to keep it steady. Neither of them were looking at me. Hardly surprising. Come on, even left handed I can keep a gun steadier than this. I aimed for the one in black. He was going to pay for killing my team. I squeezed the trigger, the gun flew upwards. My left arm totally unused to dealing with the recoil.

  I got a scream from the Matrix reject for my trouble. He stumbled forward, a hand clutching his side. There was another bright flash and he was gone. The gun now seemed to weigh a tonne, but clenching my teeth against the protest of my arm I swung it at the kid.

  “Freeze,” I managed.

  He started to raise his arms at me again. I pulled the trigger, brickwork exploded near his head. I tried to act like that was what I had intended.

  “Don't. The next one will be aimed at your head.”

  His arms lowered. I held the ten tonne weight up, keeping the gun straight at him. The world was getting extremely hazy, but I had to keep myself up. I was aware of a dumpster next to me, I'd have leaned against if it wasn't for the white hot pain in my arm. I vaguely heard sirens, then the rushing of bodies into the alleyway. Shouts of “Jesus” and even some retching. The last thing I remember was Caldwell saying to me he'd get me to