xp_logs | Sanguinicity - Breaking the Bank

The move on the bank starts, with Farouk and Jake setting things in motion.

“Ah, Herr Colakoglu. It is so good to see you again. Plus pass my best wishes along to your lovely wife.” Schlosser had been up and out of his office the second Farouk had come through the door. His research team had finally put together a complete dossier on him – aided by Doug’s clever manipulation of the bank’s internet connection and some carefully placed articles and pages off Google – and he had finally seen the scope of Colakoglu’s shadowy ‘empire’. It was clear to him that the safety deposit boxes and the initial investment amounts were merely tests for much larger investments; ones that Schlosser was not about to lose.

Farouk squinted suspiciously at the little Swiss strengthening the off-putting visage of the bloodshot eyes and the unhealthy pallor. He swiveled his head mechanically toward his companion and questioningly muttered something in Turkish, before turning his glare back on Schlosser. "You say what about wife?! I break feet!" He brandished his cane commandingly in the general direction of nothing in particular and started toward the door. "Leave now! Box room in different bank!"

All warfare is based on deception. None more so than the shadow wars of the modern age. Yet the suspicious nature and ingrained wariness of the Swiss banker industry were still a thing of proverbs, even now as they were slowly losing their place at the top of the mountain. There would be a reckoning, of course, even apart from the tense conversation Farouk already sustained with the leadership of the X-Force. But it did not take LeBeau long to have seen the advantages of the audible called by the professor. The scope of misdirection that Amahl's new cover allowed, far outweighed the last minutes scrambling to support his new identity. Not an opinion shared by Cypher, as it happened, but true nevertheless.

Schlosser's decision-making loop has been hopelessly clogged - his client's personal phobias, questionable personal hygiene, his stereotypical jealously, shady past and openly suspicious nature - all competed to make detached and rational analysis of his behavior almost impossible. Put together with the compressed time-frame and the pressure on the bank to hang onto the account... Schlosser's universe narrowed rapidly and considerably, locking the normally shrewd man into a tunnel vision that long ago excluded security concerns.

"Herr Colakolgu, please! I meant no offense, and I sincerely apologize if any was taken. I most certainly should have had a Turkish speaking representative here. It was an unconscionable oversight on my behalf. Please let me fix this for you." He cast an imploring look over at Farouk's assistant, which had Sarah's face.

Of course, one of the drawbacks to this plan was that Turkish was not one of the languages that Jake actually spoke. Still that's what practice was for, and he'd spent enough time that morning pacing the hotel room wearing Sarah's figure to be comfortable with her voice and body language. Jake-as-Sarah shook his head at Schlosser with feigned exasperation, then quickly stepped between the door and the departing Farouk, leaning in to apparently have a hushed conversation, perhaps to try to get him to reconsider.

Jake watched Schlosser over Farouk's shoulder, looking for signs of eavesdropping. Not that he would be able to make any of the conversation, anyways. The low tones that would barely carry past their huddle weren't actually any intelligible language anyways, however much it might sound like a rushed, whispered dialog. The real conversation was being sent telepathically between them. He's just about desperate. Give him about another...twenty seconds, I'd say Jake thought, Then you can 'reconsider,' and we'll at least look at their boxes.

With a truly monumental force of will Faoruk refrained from thinking very loudly what he thought about getting pointers about his timing from children, instead barking out an uninterrupted string of Turkish curses, that conveniently overrode Jake's attempts to speak. Eventually he sighed, the put-upon sound of terminally weary man hounded by the universe, and turned back toward Schlosser, snapping his fingers imperiously.

Reaching toward the case promptly produced by Jake, Amahl pulled out a glittering construction of gold and diamonds. "Present," He explained gruffly and emitted a horrifying cackle that - as Schlosser eventually realized - was supposed to be a knowing we-are-all-men-of-the-world-here chuckle. Farouk confirmed his deduction by absently dropping his hand on Jake's ass and patting it with a sense of ownership and long familiarity.

"Not for wife," He confided amiably and favored the banker with a long, slow wink. "No tell, yes? Privacy, yes? Or I break feeeeeet!" He paused momentarily then cackled again, presumably to let the little Swiss man know that he was joking now.

"Of course, sir. Discretion is our middle name." he assured them, waving them along to the safety deposit vault.

At the pat, Jake stiffened, pasting on his my-boss-is-a-complete-lecher-but-he-pays-well smile. He waited for the others to start, then followed along behind them, the high heels clacking against the bare floor. I may drive this shoe through your temple after we're done, he sent the thought after Farouk.

Professor just grunted in indifferent response. If the headache currently blooming somewhere above his left ear didn't dissipate, Amahl might just let him. He really missed his 'medication.' Alas, the snuff box as peremptorily confiscated by Wanda immediately after the first recon and he had no chance to procure a replacement. Shivers and aches had already began.

Farouk shook his head and tried to re-focus on the task at hand as he entered the vault. Another guard - predictably enough. Also competent and utterly humorless-looking.

Yes, this definitely had high likelihood of getting bloody...
Oh, well.

He nodded at Jake, grimacing approvingly as the jewelry box was passed over to Schlosser.

"Exquisite work, sir. Your taste is impeccable." Schlosser said, giving the box to the guard, who did a quick once over to ensure it only contained the necklace. With ceremony, he unlocked one of the boxes and placed the jewelry box inside. "And there you are." He passed the key and a receipt to Jake.

Jake slipped the key and receipt into his folder and pulled out a notepad in their place He crossed off two items on the list with exaggerated completion before returning the notepad, then turned his attention back to 'Herr Colakoglu.' "Shall I call the driver to come around, Sir?"

Farouk, bent at waist in a seemingly intent attempt to examine the safety deposit box design for any glaring flaws, grunted and waved irritably at Jake. The vague gesture could be interpreted either as his assent to the suggestion or order to go away not not bother him. Thankfully there was a simple response that would accommodate both scenarios.

Jake rolled his eyes at Farouk then gave Schlosser a nod before leaving the room. He started toward the building's exit, then as if an after thought paused in the hallway, making a specific show of looking for the restroom. As if spotting the sign, he changed direction, headed there instead, already fixing the image of his next persona in his mind. The moment he was in the restroom, he hurried to the stall, triggering the shift to "Greta" and pulling out the security guard's uniform. I'm out, he sent back toward Farouk. The car should be there as planned. Wish us luck.

Amanda and Wanda kill the power at the bank.

The small room, with only a single access point and carefully sealed under tons of concrete, was all but impossible to break into, unless you could somehow just appear there. Even then, it was all but impossible to teleport into an area you’d never seen before, but Cammie’s delivery of the fetish in her access to the area shone magically like a flare, providing a point of reference. X-Force’s plan was exactly that, as Wanda waited by the area with a magical totem in one hand and a cellphone in the other, until confirmation came through that Amanda was inside.

Without Wanda and her 'beacon', Amanda would never have been able to pin the room down in a million years. Zurich was old and sleepy and the bank building one of the newer ones downtown. But to their combined senses, the fetish glowed as bright as a welding torch. There was still the chance of merging with a desk, but it was a chance she had to take - with a breath that was more mental than physical, Amanda let herself drop out of the city and into the room, winding up actually sitting on top of a cabinet.

"Thanks a bunch, you cranky old bugger," she muttered to herself, jumping lightly down and pausing to see if her presence had been noticed. So far, so good - she dug her phone out of her jacket and hit Wanda's number.

"I take it you do not have a file protruding from your chest," Wanda responded almost immediately, dropping the totem into a pocket and making sure it was zipped up nice and tight. There was nothing like leaving evidence at the scene of the crime, even if no one might know what it actually was.

"Don't give this senile old bastard of a city any ideas," came Amanda's reply. "There's a lot of switches here - let me make sure I'm not tripping the fire alarm or anything."

Wanda snorted. "I do appreciate it. You have the advantage of teleporting away while I would have to, as they say, hoof it on my own power. I would give you a hand, so to speak, but from my end there are far too many lines tied together for me to safely tell you which one you should pull."

"It's Switzerland. They're really organised. There's labels on everything here." There was a pause and then a soft 'click'. "That's the alarm. Count me down and I'll get the lights."

Cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she did as she was asked - ironically, while watching a Swiss made wristwatch count down. "Now," Wanda said after a moment of silence. "Hit the lights now."

There was another series of clicks as Amanda flipped the power switches, several in each hand, plunging the room into darkness. "Well, that's something I didn't think of," she muttered as she took a step backward from the bank of switches and barked her shin. Using her phone to illuminate her way, she paused to centre herself. "I'm ready to 'port out, Wanda. You gonna be fine getting back?"

"Oh, I think I'll manage," Wanda reassured her. "What's a walk away from a bank being plunged into darkness, anyway? Besides ..." She patted her pocket with the totem almost fondly. "If I have need of a hand, I think you should still be able to hone in on almost as soon as I call for help. Will this sleepy, grumpy city of yours give you any trouble when you try to get out?"

"With the amount I've been syncing with it this week, I should be fine. Just like a walk in the park with Grandad."