Armored Car Robbery M/M
Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 1:02 am
Hello group first time let me know what ya think.
It was a pretty normal morning as usual. Put on my brown dress shirt, and the weather was nice enough to permit wearing shorts, my lace up work boots with gray socks that I’ve been meaning to wash but still have yet to do so for the past four days. I pulled into my company’s lot and got punched in on the time clock. I got my truck keys and set out on the roads. I had twelve trips for today’s shift. I work for Brinx, an armored car company that delivers to banks, atms, and basically anything that has to deal with money.
I walked in the dark as it’s usually about four am when I start my shift. The first stop is the ATM over on Berry and Grand it’s a nicer neighborhood so I don’t usually worry about being with so much currency at such an odd time of day. The company gun on my holster is also a comfort to me, and yes I’ve been lucky enough to of never had to fire it.
I pulled up to the first stop and grab my keys, making my way around the truck I fumble with the timed latch lock. I always do it’s so old it never works the first time you try it. Punching in my code I finally get the back open and start unloading the first order. It’s a small amount about four boxes full of $20 bills.
I unload my dolly and start placing the boxes on. Locking up and making my way to the ATM vestibule. I walked the dolly halfway to the vestibule when I hear a commotion. Four guys dressed in masks have me surrounded before I’m even able to get inside the building. It all happened in a flash.
They surrounded me with shotguns in hand, I didn’t dare try and go for my firearm. It would of lead to me being splattered on the sidewalk. I tried my hardest to focus my mind on what training had instructed us to do in this situation. I was snapped back to reality when one of the thugs barked out to hold still and not try anything stupid.
I stood perfectly still as I felt one of them unholster my gun and stash it in a bag he was carrying.
“Now you are gonna walk with us over to that alley and follow all our orders. Understand?” He said to me.
I nodded at the gun pressed right to my color bone. I pushed the dolly as instructed to an alley where I saw a car light up in the dark. They popped open the trunk and two started to unload the blocks into the trunk.
I know they won’t get far with them as I have to deactivate the tracker inside the boxes.
“Hold up! Open that shit it may be bugged.” The one holding the gun to me shouted.
“Shit.” I gulp not daring to make my thoughts known aloud.
I see the two men tear open the packages and they see the devices on all the bricks. I’m pushed forward and instructions to deactivate them. I pull out my scanner and do so.
“Good boy.” One says patronizingly.
“Alright let’s stash this dude!” One says.
Before I know it I’m being thrown down to the concrete. They told me to stay still I could feel one binging my legs with something I tried to look over and saw what looked to be rope.
One caught sight of this and kicked me hard in my side. They pulled my arms behind my back and started to wind rope around my wrists. This would have been enough one would think then I hear a squeaking sound down bybmy feet. They’re zip tying my ankles! They did several in varying ways. Across, crossing, talk about over kill. They did the same to my wrists, which hurt like a mother.
Then something odd happened they started unlacing my work boots. One remarked about how pungent my feet were and I could feel my socks being ripped off of my feet. One pulled my head back by the hair which caused and loud audible “Ow!” That was cut off by him jamming my socks into my mouth. He snapped his fingers and another guy ran over with black gaffer tape.
He wrapped my head over and over, so many times I lost count. Then proceeded to cover the rest of my binds with it. I wasn’t getting out of it anytime soon. And that combination of my nasty socks and the layers of tape made my speaking close to mute.
“We gotta stash him man.”
“One last thing.”
I saw him grab the tape and he started to wrap my eyes with it. I was completely in the dark now.
I tried to speak and it was useless. I could hear from the commotion that they opened the dumpster. But I was hit with a familiar foul smell, it wasn’t garbage but the smell of my own sweaty feet. One of these assholes was taping my work boot to my face.
“Fucking sick man” one said.
“Teach this fucker to wash up.”
I felt them lift me and as a team dropped me down inside. The dumpster was thankfully empty. The last thing I heard the lid slam shut and car peel off. And I struggled around inside that container for what felt like hours. I kicked at the sides of the container hoping someone, anyone would hear me.
I lost track of time, and was brought back to reality when I felt myself being lifted. The boot was torn away from my face as was the tape over my eyes. As the tape ripped away I saw the face of my supervisor Adam, and a police officer.
A few weeks have passed and the guys at work still dog me out about it. Pulling pranks like leaving their old boots in my truck tucked under the seat, so I have to search for the smell is coming from. I hope they have as good a sense a humor about it as me if it ever happens to them.
END
It was a pretty normal morning as usual. Put on my brown dress shirt, and the weather was nice enough to permit wearing shorts, my lace up work boots with gray socks that I’ve been meaning to wash but still have yet to do so for the past four days. I pulled into my company’s lot and got punched in on the time clock. I got my truck keys and set out on the roads. I had twelve trips for today’s shift. I work for Brinx, an armored car company that delivers to banks, atms, and basically anything that has to deal with money.
I walked in the dark as it’s usually about four am when I start my shift. The first stop is the ATM over on Berry and Grand it’s a nicer neighborhood so I don’t usually worry about being with so much currency at such an odd time of day. The company gun on my holster is also a comfort to me, and yes I’ve been lucky enough to of never had to fire it.
I pulled up to the first stop and grab my keys, making my way around the truck I fumble with the timed latch lock. I always do it’s so old it never works the first time you try it. Punching in my code I finally get the back open and start unloading the first order. It’s a small amount about four boxes full of $20 bills.
I unload my dolly and start placing the boxes on. Locking up and making my way to the ATM vestibule. I walked the dolly halfway to the vestibule when I hear a commotion. Four guys dressed in masks have me surrounded before I’m even able to get inside the building. It all happened in a flash.
They surrounded me with shotguns in hand, I didn’t dare try and go for my firearm. It would of lead to me being splattered on the sidewalk. I tried my hardest to focus my mind on what training had instructed us to do in this situation. I was snapped back to reality when one of the thugs barked out to hold still and not try anything stupid.
I stood perfectly still as I felt one of them unholster my gun and stash it in a bag he was carrying.
“Now you are gonna walk with us over to that alley and follow all our orders. Understand?” He said to me.
I nodded at the gun pressed right to my color bone. I pushed the dolly as instructed to an alley where I saw a car light up in the dark. They popped open the trunk and two started to unload the blocks into the trunk.
I know they won’t get far with them as I have to deactivate the tracker inside the boxes.
“Hold up! Open that shit it may be bugged.” The one holding the gun to me shouted.
“Shit.” I gulp not daring to make my thoughts known aloud.
I see the two men tear open the packages and they see the devices on all the bricks. I’m pushed forward and instructions to deactivate them. I pull out my scanner and do so.
“Good boy.” One says patronizingly.
“Alright let’s stash this dude!” One says.
Before I know it I’m being thrown down to the concrete. They told me to stay still I could feel one binging my legs with something I tried to look over and saw what looked to be rope.
One caught sight of this and kicked me hard in my side. They pulled my arms behind my back and started to wind rope around my wrists. This would have been enough one would think then I hear a squeaking sound down bybmy feet. They’re zip tying my ankles! They did several in varying ways. Across, crossing, talk about over kill. They did the same to my wrists, which hurt like a mother.
Then something odd happened they started unlacing my work boots. One remarked about how pungent my feet were and I could feel my socks being ripped off of my feet. One pulled my head back by the hair which caused and loud audible “Ow!” That was cut off by him jamming my socks into my mouth. He snapped his fingers and another guy ran over with black gaffer tape.
He wrapped my head over and over, so many times I lost count. Then proceeded to cover the rest of my binds with it. I wasn’t getting out of it anytime soon. And that combination of my nasty socks and the layers of tape made my speaking close to mute.
“We gotta stash him man.”
“One last thing.”
I saw him grab the tape and he started to wrap my eyes with it. I was completely in the dark now.
I tried to speak and it was useless. I could hear from the commotion that they opened the dumpster. But I was hit with a familiar foul smell, it wasn’t garbage but the smell of my own sweaty feet. One of these assholes was taping my work boot to my face.
“Fucking sick man” one said.
“Teach this fucker to wash up.”
I felt them lift me and as a team dropped me down inside. The dumpster was thankfully empty. The last thing I heard the lid slam shut and car peel off. And I struggled around inside that container for what felt like hours. I kicked at the sides of the container hoping someone, anyone would hear me.
I lost track of time, and was brought back to reality when I felt myself being lifted. The boot was torn away from my face as was the tape over my eyes. As the tape ripped away I saw the face of my supervisor Adam, and a police officer.
A few weeks have passed and the guys at work still dog me out about it. Pulling pranks like leaving their old boots in my truck tucked under the seat, so I have to search for the smell is coming from. I hope they have as good a sense a humor about it as me if it ever happens to them.
END