During the five months Drayke had worked in the biggest branch of Allock Bank PLC, he had learned that the more expensive a building looked, the less people noticed the individuals who made it clean.
The floors were always neat, the walls were always sparkling, heck, even the automated teller machines were always spotless, but no one ever remembered who made them that way.
That was advantageous to him.
He stood in the lobby of the bank and looked outside. Short queues here and there could be noticed. It was business as usual. Then he looked around him. There was nothing 'business as usual' about the lobby.
"I'm telling you, this bank is incompetent," a customer fumed at the counter.
The teller facing him tried to calm him down. "Sir, we've checked the records, and the transfer seems to be pen—"
"Nonsense! That's not what they told me at the other branch. Who's in charge of this place?!"
Drayke watched all this, even noticing when a worker left the lobby towards the corridors and came back a minute later. Soon, the Executive Branch Manager stepped into the lobby.
"Finally, someone in charge," the man heaved an angry sigh of relief.
Drayke, though, wasn't focused on that, as he frowned when the manager stepped in. Drayke looked to be in a dilemma, looking at the manager and the intensity of the situation, estimating how long it would take for the manager to resolve it.
In the end, he decided to go towards the corridors.
He gripped his cleaning trolley and turned it towards the corridors, showing surprising strength and control for his lean, 6' 2" build. He momentarily removed one hand from the trolley, then ruffled his scattered jet-black hair.
When he got to the first corridor, he walked down it, intentionally walking on certain paths and areas. He was happy that the afternoon shift cleaners had already signed out — he was the only one left. In about thirty minutes' time, the first evening shift cleaners were supposed to resume.
He reached a door, obviously different from the rest, that read Executive Branch Manager. He moved in a way that could be considered weird towards the door, as if he was avoiding something. Then he paused just before he reached the door.
Then, he started a mental countdown.
'Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six...'
He adjusted his blue latex gloves and dusted his trousers.
'... Five... Four... Three... Two...'
He breathed out a long breath through his mouth.
'One...'
And then everywhere went dark.
He opened the door in front of him and went in, closing it behind him. Then the lights came back on.
He almost instinctively started to rummage through the drawers, until he stopped himself.
'I have to do this according to plan, at least for JD's sake. It wouldn't be nice if I ruined his plan...'
He carefully searched through the drawers, finding cheques, stamps, and other stuff one could find in the drawers of an executive branch manager.
Then, when he checked the last one, he saw red and blue files, similar to the ones on the shelf in the office. He lifted them, and there it was.
The key card to the vault area.
Of course, this wasn't the complete thing needed to access 'everything.' He had, through weeks of stalking and spying, gotten the two-man pins needed for the vault itself.
Now, it remained to execute this.
He took the key card and arranged everything the way he met them. Then, he left the office after pocketing the key card.
Then he walked up the corridor, turned to another corridor, walked down, and went through an unlocked door, which led to a T-junction. He went left and turned right and kept walking down, until he reached a reinforced metallic door, blinking a yellow LED light. It had a card reader and a comically big handle.
He brought out the key card and swiped it at the card reader. The LED light turned green and there was a subtle beep. He pushed the handle and went in.
It was colder inside, he noticed, as he closed the door behind him. He looked ahead and saw the vault five meters away. A crazy smile found its way onto his face.
He walked towards it, his steps looking like he was holding himself from running. He had always been the reckless type, after all, so that was expected.
He reached the vault and paused. He then rolled his left sleeve up. There were tattoos of a sword and a mallet on it. He looked at the buttons and screen on the vault door.
He looked at his left forearm. The numbers 679312 were written there. He typed them in, and the dull grey screen lit up green, then went dull again, only this time, it was a pale yellow.
He rolled up his right sleeve, and the numbers 213976 were written there.
He input them, and the screen lit green and read OPEN.
He used a cleaning agent from his trolley and lightly scrubbed both arms, and in two minutes, the numbers were gone.
He silently thanked JD for reminding him to do that earlier that day.
He straightened his sleeves, and then bent down. He brought out a large trash bag from beneath the trolley.
He opened the safe and in ten minutes, the bag was filled up with cash.
He locked the safe, which needed no pin to do, and put the bag on the trolley. Then he moved out, locked the door, which also needed no pin to do, and left that corridor.
He was heading to the director's office when he saw him going there, so he diverted into the second corridor. He stood there, overhearing the director's phone conversation. He silently prayed for a miracle, because he calculated that if the director left his office now, he would lock it.
"Yes, I am going to attend the meeting... Yes, give me thirty minutes, I'll be there... Alright."
Then he hung up.
Seconds later, he came out and, without locking the door, left towards the toilet area for staff. Quickly, he rushed inside the office, keeping the key card, and then came out.
He went to the lobby to look at the wall clock there.
16:42
He dropped the cart off at the cleaner's room, removing the trash bag. Then, taking the back door of the bank, he disposed of it.
He then signed out for the day.
As he left the bank, he saw a dump truck pull up at the bank, picking the trashcan and putting it in the truck. He smiled as he walked home.
No one would have imagined.
And more importantly, no one knew his real name, nor his real address.
Maybe recklessness wasn't the answer to everything, after all.