Episode 06: The Great Marrow Lago Heist
Character and Citizenry content brought to you by Azurbala Broadcasting System. None of these words are our own. We post what we want, when we want, from who we want. Mostly from people with interesting stories. This story is based on actual events. Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Job #17: The Great Marrow Lago Heist
Location: Marrow Lago Casino
Goal: Clear the Vault
Plan: Create a diversion inside the casino while clearing the vault
Crew: “Mr. A” - Driver, “Mr. E” - Con Artist, “Ms. I” - Hacker, “Mr. O” - Grease Man, “Mr. U” - Thief, “Ms. Y” - Explosives.
“I want to knock off Marrow Lago Casino.” The unsavory character across from me had just slid into my Cafe Azur VIP booth, displacing some of the smoke.
“Don’t we all,” I responded without looking up.
“But does anyone else have the floor plans?” Unsavory slid a manila envelope over to me.
Unsavory character in a VIP booth at Cafe Azur.
I was intrigued, but knew this wasn’t the best place to chat. I had a suite where we could talk in private so I told him to meet me at the Balagio in one hour and slid him a spare key to the room. When he attempted to take back the plans, I stopped him with a hiss, “These stay with me.”
Exactly one hour later the door to my private suite swung open. Turns out the guy was braver than he looked. As if letting out air for the first time since I’d last seen him, he blurted out, “Do we got a deal?”
“If you’re asking if I have a solution to your problem, then the answer is ‘yes.’ But there’s no deal until we discuss compensation.” He asked me my rate. I told him my standard terms were 25% of the loot, 0% of the responsibility if they fail. He countered with 15% and we settled on 20%. Told him he'd need a team of six good souls. A grease man, a hacker, a driver, a con man, a bomb man and a thief. He said he’d be the thief. I said I’d take care of the rest. We shook hands and he left. It always seems easy when you’re touching palms.
Two weeks before the heist, I met with the team. At Azurbala Sushi we discussed the details of the plan while enjoying a great meal. We kept things light, jovial, chitter chatter, code, slang, stuff no one else should understand. But there was still one thing bugging me. So in a quieter moment when everyone was snout deep in their food, I asked the crew, “Why Marrow Lago?” Without a breathe in between, all six in unison looked up and responded, “Revenge!”
Richard Surmount was proficient at attracting enemies.
Everyone knows Richard Surmount, the owner of Marrow Lago, was a greedy, arrogant, narcissistic old man with many enemies in Azurbala. That meant revenge against him personally was a likely motive and attacking his wallet would be the ultimate punishment. It added up, using the source of his power against him.
A week before the heist, Mr. U, aware of Marrow Lago’s abnormal policy to replace cards only twice a month, started playing at the balajack tables daily, strategically marking each card so by a week after the last card change, he wouldn’t be able to lose unless he wanted to. Mr. U thought this part was entirely too easy.
Mr. A sat in the driver’s seat of an armored truck custom built by Azurbala Auto. Next to him sat Ms. I, who was hacking into the casino’s security system. She distorted cameras, randomly setting off alarms to trick security into thinking the tech was malfunctioning. “This is going to be fun,” mumbled Mr. A through a mouthful of a donut from the Baker. He liked to eat while on recon.
In a secluded cave deep in the jungle, Belon Beslar’s actual architectural plans of Marrow Lago Casino sat on a table surrounded by parts obtained from the Bala Smuggler and some useful items from Acme Weapons. Ms. Y’s skillfully constructed mini explosives and EMPs were stacked here and there. Mr. O was bravely by her side as he embarked on a week long diet of only Balarade.
Mr. E stumbled through the casino, a whiskey in one hand. A cigar dangled from his mouth as he threw down large bets. Emotionless, seemingly unaware of any of the outcomes, he quickly and easily gained the reputation as an out of touch lush with way too much money to lose. Everything was falling into place.
The morning of the heist, we met in the Sprawls at the Azurbala Bakery. Spirits were high and our stomachs full. Knowing the baker’s hatred for books, we had left behind bogus flyers about book clubs there the night before. “Have fun on your wild goose chase Deputy Pederson,” I joked to the group.
Mr. E, Mr. O and Ms. Y rented bikes from Arnie's Bala Bike Rentals and rode to the casino while Ms. I hopped into the armored vehicle, Mr. A waiting for her in the driver’s seat. Bikes were parked next to the oversized Marrow Lago sign, each member of the team entering the casino from separate directions.
Inside the lights were muted, slots were spinning, drinks were flowing and the fresh air was pumping. Mr. U was quietly counting cards at the balajack table as Mr. E stumbled around in a “drunken stupor” making sure his presence was felt.
Mr. O entered by scaling the side of the building like an orangutan gracefully climbing a tree. Back in the truck, Ms. I temporarily killed the power to the basement exhaust system as Mr. O hit the roof. A noticeably slimmer Mr. O squeezed into the ducting and shimmied down to the basement. The balarade had worked. What an easy solution.
Ms. Y expertly lined one side of the base of the Marrow Lago sign with explosives returning to the armored truck once the bombs were set in place. The larger than life sign sat guarded the parking lot like a fat cheshire cat using so much Marrow to charge it that it was almost criminal in its ostentatiousness. Ms. Y smoked while she waited for her cue to trigger the bombs.
Scratching the back of his head, Mr. U signaled to Mr. E that the deck was favorable. Mr. E stumbled over. The dealer rolled his eyes expecting an irrational bet from the lush. Mr. E unsurprisingly bet big and this time…he won!! “Winner, winner, chicken dinner!!” yellslurs Mr. E.
Mr. O was in the basement outside the vault door. He’d placed the EMPs just so to ensure knocking out power to the casino while allowing him access to the vault undetected. As he waited for Ms. Y to set off the EMPs, he practiced his favorite positions he’d learned from Azur Yoga. Stretching is a deceptively easy way to stay alert when on a heist.
While the rest were taking care of business, Ms. I started snooping around Richard Surmounts private server looking for any dirt on the old man and hit the mother load. “Holy Shit!!” Full of excitement, she downloaded the files to share with the Azurian Times, ABC Azurbala and Azurbala News once the heist was over.
Meanwhile, excitement was also growing back at the balajack table.
Meanwhile, excitement was also growing back at the balajack table.
Mr. E was on an insane winning streak, drawing the attention of both customers and employees—customers cheered in excitement with each win while the employees scrutinized every move trying to reveal the scam.
The deck was turning cold so even though they were both being watched closely, Mr. U rubbed his eye in the planned signal to inform Mr. E to leave the table. Caught up in his roleplaying, Mr. E didn’t notice and went all in on the next hand. Mr. U coughed to get his attention, but that didn’t work either so he gently kicked the table. Mr. E, laughing and talking loudly while waiving his arms, missed that signal too, but the dealer didn’t and made a signal of his own to call over the pit boss. Security showed up a moment later to back up the pit boss when he asked almost amused, “Are you boys working together?”
Richard Surmount was alerted to the cheaters on the floor and showed up flanked by a couple of heavies of his own. The old man had a reputation for enjoying witnessing violence against “cheaters” so Mr. U and Mr. E were quickly escorted away from the table and led through the casino toward the casino’s “back room.”
“Lights out,” Ms. I squealed with joy as Ms. Y triggered the EMPs. Suddenly, the whole casino went dark. Chaos ensued and Mr. U and Mr. E were able to slip away in the confusion escaping out the back door unnoticed, arriving moments later at the armored truck out of breath.
Bolt cutters took out a lock as Mr. O, adjusting his night vision goggles, shook his head and entered the vault filled ceiling to floor with bags of money. “This motherfucker used one padlock!! A single lock to protect his entire fortune.”
Surmount was furious. With the power out, he was vulnerable. “Either this power failure is the work of Lady Vo, or this casino is under attack! When I get my hands on whoever’s responsible….” Just then, the lights taken out by the EMPs suddenly came back on. Ms. I, clicking between surveillence cameras caught Surmount and his team approaching an oversized and gaudy portrait of the old man hanging on the wall next to his office. Cursing the entire time, Richard moved the painting revealing a hidden elevator. When the doors opened, he and his men got in and headed down toward the underground tunnel that housed his safe room.
Back at the entrance to the vault, Mr. O was combining equal parts of ground up Syndicate Fire Bomb candy from the Azur Chariot Candy Company with diopcide from the Diopcide Dealer, adding a touch of marrow. The dangerous substance could melt metal and he poured the mixture over a grate in the floor to access an entrance to the tunnel.
Ms. Y smiled as her finger hovered over the trigger mechanism. “I love the smell of napalm in the evening.” And…boom. The truck shook as the Marrow Lago sign tumbled over to reveal another hidden and fortified entryway to the tunnel.
Mr. O tossed the bags of money down the hole one by one until all the bags had been removed from the vault and then he climbed down finding a large cart waiting for him below. “This cart is rather convenient, must be how Big Dick funnels money out of the Casino to avoid paying taxes,” Mr. O mumbled to himself as he loaded the cart. “Of course now he’s going to be able to deduct a biiiiggggg loss.”
Mr. O pushed the cart down a long and dark tunnel arriving at the large beam of light shinning through the hole created by the earlier explosion. “Hey you guys!!!” Mr. O screamed as he heaved bags of money through the hole to his crew above.
“Ding!” The doors of the elevator opened. There had been an odd shake while they were riding down. “You feel that?” Richard had asked his team.
Surmount’s head guard thought he did, and after doing a little recon returned to say that the tunnel had been breached and it looked like someone was still inside.
Surmount found his vault had been emptied of everything.
Mr. U and Mr. E retrieved each bag tossed up from the hole and heaved them into the back of the truck. Ms. I and Ms. Y set about organizing them inside the truck while Mr. A in the drivers seat, ready to go, asked “How many more?”
“About 10 more,” responded Mr. U.
“Intruder halt!” a guard screamed down the tunnel. “Get down on the ground with your hands behind your head.” No one listened. He looked back at his team adding, “Looks like some guys tossing bags out of the tunnel.”
Richard’s eyes lit up as he bellowed, “My fucking money!!”
“Fuck, they’re here!!” screamed Mr. O as he tossed up the remaining bags. 5, 4, 3, 2. Mr. U started up through the hole as Mr. O swung the last bag on his back and followed suit. Mr. U reached back into the hole to help him up, Mr. O jumped up to grab his hand, when suddenly, “Oh shit!!”
A guard who’d grabbed the foot of Mr. O before he could be pulled out of the tunnel was holding on tight as Mr. O unsuccessfully tried to kick his way free. The guard would not let go, so Mr. O wiggled his feet out of his shoes as he handed up the last bag, but the guard just grabbed for his ankles making it impossible to escape.
Mr. E threw the last bag into the truck, signaled for Mr. A to drive off, and returned to the hole to help Mr. O out as he continued to struggle to get free. Once Mr. O was able to dump the remaining Syndicate Fire Bomb powder into the guard’s face, he quickly freed himself from his grip.
Shoeless Mr. O, Mr. U and Mr. E jumped on their bikes and rode as quickly as they could, without arising suspicion, to their secret stash spot in the Sprawls. As the truck crew waited for the cyclists to join them, Ms. I sent a copy of the files from Richard’s servers to all the news agencies. An anonymous email address, a couple of clicks, and it was off. Easy. “Looks like Edokan will be getting a new prisoner tonight,” she laughed.
Within an hour of the news breaking on all the wire services, a significantly poorer Richard Surmount was rounded up and sent to Edokan Prison. He eventually received a life sentence of hard labor for his crimes, but soon after he was sentenced he disappeared. Most think he died. It’s rather easy to die in the prison. But no one really knows for sure.
