Old Hands

by T.S. Luikart The bank reeked of smoke and fear with a hint of the iron tang of spilt blood as a chaser. Less than a minute into the heist and the plan had already gone to shit. The safe had some fancy new cog-lock courtesy of the Twin-Eagle boys that had shrugged off a bundle of dynamite with ease. The security guards who were meant to be old, fat, and cautious had proved to be recently swapped for young