Before starting, let’s clear a few things up. The title of the movie Robin Peter is referenced in the previous chapter, and was supposed to be summarized there, but is summarized under a different title in this one.
But then I gave a whole diatribe about my current living conditions, and I couldn’t go back and edit it, so it serves more of a prologue than anything. Then when it came to describing the movie, too much time had passed to justify tacking it on at the end. Not to mention that when it came to thinking of a title, I thought of a better one. In effect, this is a summary of the movie Robin Peter mentioned in the previous chapter that didn’t describe the movie at all, which is summarized in this chapter with a completely different title that has nothing to do with the movie Heist of Confusion, even though it captures the mood conveyed while watching it.
It couldn’t be simpler!
So with that tenuous explanation out of the way, let’s get on with the show!
The robbers were jubilantly celebrating among the contents of the treasure vault, vast richness beyond what they could imagine. Some were leaving their mark by rolling amidst the wealthy currency, burying themselves within. Only the Ringleader who’d masterminded the whole operation from start to finish without flaw looked disappointed. He looked at the underside of a crate of valuables, seeing the serial numbers etched there and sighed.
“Come on! Aren’t you excited?”
“It’s not what I’m looking for,” the Ringleader spoke in a slow manner ringed with disappointed pain, every word uttered with effort. He normally wouldn’t have come, preferring to remain behind the scenes instead, supervising the caper from a distance. But he had heard certain rumours about this location, and was reluctant to outsource to someone else who would lack his expertise, and was only willing to verify for himself. And the expectations was less than advertised, along the likes of being told, ‘TRY! This new exciting drink! You’ll LOVE it!’, only to find it having the same consistency of dishwater.
“Is the score less than you were expecting?”
“It’s not about the money. It never was. There are some things that money can’t buy.”
“Well, while you’re trying to wrestle with those intangibles, this’ll go a long way to affording those cultivated items that’s always eluded me!”
They made their escape, piling the loot into their packs, bringing what valuables they could carry.
“Now don’t you go blabbing about our involvement!”
“I won’t. I never do.”
The Ringleader watched the batch of thieves go off on their merry way, then went back empty-handed to his place of profession, working as the residential Bank Security Chief. He wrote down the series of faults that was in danger of being breached of the bank that had just been exploited, double-checked the work to make sure nothing had been overlooked and submitted the report to the very institution that had been robbed. It was his job to look for potential holes and weakness in the otherwise impregnable vaults. To road-test his theories, he’d assign various greedy people looking to make a big score.
There was no concern of contradiction or betrayal in his mind. Everything stolen was already insured. Only the stupidest thieves would wind up getting caught hucking around vast reserves of cash where none previously existed, and the stolen money would wind up back in their reserves where they belonged. Furthermore, the banks went to tremendous lengths to cover up any trace of robberies, since it could irreparable harm to their self-image.
Once the thievery had been done, the Security Chief would point out these flaws that should be covered up, necessitating a bigger puzzle to be hacked into. No system was truly foolproof, and his reputation only grew with the ease he found the holes in these safety systems.
The task completed, the Ringleader routinely riffled through the daily stack of incoming mail, the usual assortment of due bills, phishing memos, chain letters, religious screeds, wrong addresses, needless advertising and whatnot. There was always the occasional letter addressed towards the previous employee, even though the retiree hadn’t worked here for years. No amount of explaining was able to convince the nameless sender otherwise. Buried within the batch of letters sent to the past occupant, was the letter he’d been waiting for. Opening the contents revealed an invitation to inspect the security system of a heavily-fortified reserve of valued metals.
“Finally,” a light in his eyes flared, the first flames of motivation that hadn’t been felt in a long time. He’d been sending words of warning that their security was in danger of being compromised for years, and now had finally gotten a response. They could only ignore his insistence and reputation for so long.
It was time to bring his selected roster of thieves back together again.
An invitation was sent out to multiple parties asking for their presence in a private location or risk having their previous associative past infraction known. It was an unusual request - an open voluntary participation verging on coercion, just to listen to a proposal or else.
Once the majority of the invited arrived, grumbling at this forced intimidation tactic, the Mastermind brought his intentions forth.
“My appreciations for coming here. Many of you are no doubt seething with resentment, and for good reason. I wouldn’t have forced my hand if I didn’t think you wouldn’t come. But I confidentially feel you’ll feel differently once I’ve made my intentions known.”
“Get ON with it.”
“Of all the thieves I’ve hired into my employ, you were the only ones smart enough to never get caught. All your accomplices were either foolhardy or greedy, leading to infighting and death.”
This attempt at complimenting did little to assuage the gathered group’s ire. “We were fortunate to get away with what we got. Why would we ever attempt anything that darehardy again?”
“Normally, I would be content to leave you be. But now, I’ve received word of an opening that would be foolish not to take advantage of. I’m inviting you to take part in a scheme unprecedented from any other, walking away with the biggest score.”
“What would that be?”
“...mation.”
Information? That was always something of high quality. Whatever it was, it must be damned important if was being kept a secret. If he’d spoken a little louder, and they’d been listening closer, they might’ve realized that what the Mastermind really said, was ‘Confirmation’.
“I want to confirm something. For the longest time, I’ve had the deep-seated intuition that there’s something in the financial world that has been kept a heavily guarded secret. Something not even the financial wizards are acutely aware of. You’re the only ones I can tell this to. You’re the only ones I can trust.”
At first the Mastermind had gained their irritation, but now he had their attention.
“This heist is both like and unlike my past robberies with one major difference - the acquisition of information. In all our previous robberies, I gave you license to steal whatever you wanted, but to leave the gold reserves alone. This time, I’m giving you permission to steal as much as you want. You can go after any other valuables if you want, but the gold takes first priority. You’re under no obligation to follow my plan. If you opt out, I’ll understand.”
The stunned silence was broken by an outspoken voice. “I can’t believe you’re even seriously considering this! After all these years of relative safety, you ask us back for one last job? I want nothing to do with your scheme! It’s too foolhardy and risky! And furthermore...”
The Mastermind let the Safecracker run his mouth, ranting about all the potential dangers until he’d had his say leaving with a dramatic exit. “Moving on,” the Mastermind continued, not deterred by his absence the least. This was a reoccurring scene. Whenever a new proposal was opened up, the Safecracker would openly express intense resistance against whatever plan was cooked up, and go off to sulk for awhile. Then, once he’d got used to the idea, having examined the details from all angles, he would reluctantly warm over and ask what needed to be done, all previous outbursts forgotten.
“You remember the Goldfinch Filchers, right?” There were murmurs of recollections all around. Who could possibly forget? “A daring gang of thieves who smuggled a hoard of gold sight unseen, hidden in a tanker truck filled with golden turmeric soup. It was ingenious, and I’m jealous I didn’t think of it first. Of course they didn’t account for the sudden shift in weight while turning a sharp corner to avoid a goldfinch and they were apprehended soon after. I didn’t think much of it at first until I was in the presence of gold bars that vaguely smelled of golden turmeric soup. It wasn’t until later that I realized that the bars I was shown came from a completely different bank than the ones the soup thieves stole it from. I spent ages trying to track down the source of the turmeric gold bars without drawing attention to myself, but they must’ve scrubbed the smell away, and I was never able to find it again. I remain convinced that they went to great lengths to hide this.”
By now, more members were getting up to follow the Safecracker’s wake. Did they really come all this way just to hear some crackpot theories? Sensing that he was losing his audience, the Mastermind decided to cut the trail of discovery short and put his sales pitch into play.
“While tracing the whereabouts of the delicious-smelling gold, I became aware of the coincidental transactions occurring between gold reserves. There have been numerous late-night deliveries of heavy unidentified contraband ferried about through multiple shell companies, the sources originating from here, here, here, here and here. All of them centering around a singularly heavily fortified gold reserve. See the connection?”
The departing members’ curiosity slowed them down long enough to sneak a peek at the diagram. They took a look at the map of the highlighted locations, the implications becoming very apparent. There were many who quickly caught on to the fine machineries operating within, and the slower ones who hadn’t, pretended to.
“What we’re going to attempt is something beyond the scope of anything done before. I’ve been asked to investigate the security of the National Gold Vaults.”
“We’re going to rob that place?! Isn’t it supposed to be impregnable?”
“Under normal conditions, yes. My job is to make sure it stays that way. This will be a coordinated group effort concentrated on multiple fronts. Here’re the plans I’ve drawn up for each of you.”
Envelopes addressed to specific assigned individuals were opened and their interior contents examined. There were confused grumblings from the gang upon looking at the blueprints.
“But, this isn’t...”
“Follow the plans as laid out, and everything should be fine.”
“Are you sure you - ”
“Have I ever once steered you wrong?”
The Mastermind further explained the extent of the plans and what the end goal was, which garnered shocked responses from them.
“Is such a thing even possible??”
“That’s what I intend to find out.”
Shortly after the meeting ended, the Safecracker returned, having changed his mind. An envelope with his name on it was handed to him by one of the members who was a close associate.
“Is it not too late to join?”
“You missed a very convincing presentation.”
“If it was that good, maybe you could convince me. Prove that you haven’t been snowed in by that guy’s words.”
The Associate gave a brief summary of the meeting. The Safecracker remained skeptical, remaining silent, only making pointed replies while looking at the contents of his envelope until he suddenly uttered, “You’re talking about the largest pile of gold in history!”
Even though the Mastermind had been asked to investigate the surrounding security, there was still the matter of proper procedure to follow first before he could gain access, and these things took time. While official clearances were being finalized, preparing and executing the plan with his team would take the better part of a year.
Finally, the day came, and all members split up to do their individual tasks while the Investigator went to do his. After going through a lengthy inspection ritual involving frisking and strip-searching to ensure that no suspicious burglary tools were found on his person, he was greeted by the Reserve Manager at the front entrance who acknowledged him lightly.
“As per your request, I’ve been assigned to inspect the security surrounding this place. I understand you have reservations about your preservation?”
“It may seem foolish, but I have reason to believe that there’s threats of an impending robbery. No place can truly be called foolproof. Anybody determined enough can break in anywhere. The most we can do is ensure that any attempts will be made as difficult as possible. There are always holes if you look hard enough.”
“The Reserve Manager is notoriously efficient, but also extremely paranoid. He will randomly check the contents of the vault multiple times a week to ensure nothing’s been taken. We can exploit that weakness to our advantage.”
“You’re certain that there are loopholes that’ve been missed?”
“These are not theoretical transitory figures we’re dealing with here. These are physical objects representing actual value. The loss of a single bar would be disastrous for our reputation and would tarnish the valued gold reserve’s name.”
“Well, walk me through your defenses, and I’ll do my best.”
“We’ve taken every precaution possible. The exterior of the Reserve is guarded by a rotating shift of twenty guards on high alert, hyped up on uppers to keep them awake at all hours.”
At that moment, the Chemist added a laxative to the staff coffee machine.
“The walls are fortified with dense layers of sensitive wiring hidden behind foundational sedimentary rocks using the sturdiest metals possible.
At that moment, the Metallurgist melted the sewer grate using common chemical solvents found at any general store.
“That’s impressive so far, but there’s still the human factor.”
“I’ve taken that in account. Only previously vetted people are allowed access. No one is allowed entry without my explicit permission. You’re the only one I’ve allotted today.”
At that moment, the Handyman hung an ‘Out of Order’ sign in front of the bathroom.
“I’m thinking more about impersonal relationships. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.”
“The exterior guards are perfunctory, but the interior security are intensely loyal to my whims. They’ve all taken vows of secrecy of what goes on here, and are well compensated.”
At that moment, the Jewel Thief flirted with a Guard, distracting attention away from activity occurring out of his sight of vision.
“Word of mouth can get around. Passwords can get reused. Routine checkups become routine.”
“We have the latest up-to-date quantum passwords installed whenever possible. Any newly installed locks are tested by our expert lockpickers to test for weaknesses at every opportunity. And we never use the same manufacturers twice.
At that moment, the Pickpocket lifted the security key, then covertly passed it to the Forger who made a copy, passing it back before the Guard even noticed it was gone.
“We have pressure plates installed to gauge the weight of clients going in and out, which ensures that nothing going over the limit leaves without permission.”
At that moment, the Mechanic used a vise on the base pressure plate, weighing down the incoming weight that would go undetected upon arrival.
“Unoccupied rooms are sucked dry of oxygen. Money doesn’t need air to breathe. The airways go through winding ductworks between multiple finely filtered grates that are cleaned regularly. Not even a rat can crawl through undetected.”
At that moment, the Contortionist crawled through the tightly fitted vents.
“All security staff are familiar with each other, and can pick up on subtle cues unknown to any disguised personnel if there’s any heightened distress. Any suspicious behavior?”
“Nothing’s out of place.”
“You see? Even if somebody tried to get past all these obstacles, they’d still have to contend with the laser-protected, electromagnetic, hermetically sealed, geologically weighed, 3,500,000,000,000,000-random symbol generated digit locked vault door. It only opens once a week via a relayed phone call to an outside location, and I just entered yesterday. And there are thousands of hidden silent alarms that haven’t even been mentioned yet.”
“That’s all very well and good, but there’s still one factor you’ve neglected to take in mind.
“And that would be?”
“An external threat from outside the vault.”
At that moment, an alarm sounded, bathing the room in a red glow.
“Radiation warning. Get everybody out now!”
Everybody was rapidly shunted in rapid file towards the main entrance, when one-third through, the Investigator called out, “Wait! Where did you get your Geiger counters?”
“We got them all wholesale from the same supplier, why?”
“My radiation detector isn’t picking up anything.”
They all looked at the Investigator’s gauge. Sure enough, it wasn’t displaying any clicking sounds.
“Recalibrate them!”
Once the resetting was done, they found to their alarm that the radiation that was supposed to be at high risk had actually been magnified to exaggerated hazardous proportions.
“Get back to the vault!”
“I’m coming with you.”
“We need to verify the security - ”
“I insist. I may notice something you might miss. Besides, any refusal would be a tarnish on my blemishless record. How would it look? A security force refusing admittance to a well-reputed inspector?”
The Reserve Manager was reluctant, but under these conditions, he was in no position to argue. He and his team made their way back the way they came, the going much faster now that all obstacles had been cleared out of the way. All the while, wild thoughts were running through the Reserve Manager’s mind of what could be happening in their absence. Enough time had passed for any number of things to have happened in that small time frame.
By the time they’d retraced their steps back, the Reserve Manager’s breath was ragged and the seemingly tranquil chamber did little to alleviate his stress.
“Well, the vault looks unaffected, but I’m sure the lack of alarms or security notifications are nothing to worry about. I can come back when the vault’s open again. Is next week good?”
“No,” the Reserve Manager vehemently opposed. “We’re opening the vault right now.”
‘Right now’ was something of a misnomer, as the entire process of contacting the Authenticator involved triple checking the phone line to ensure the phone line hadn’t been hacked, waiting for the call to come through, asking for identification at the other end to make sure the Authenticator was who it actually was (even though the familiar requests for ID was verification enough), then made his request.
“I’m going to need you to change the password.” There was a pause for a thought, then, “But don’t give it to me until I’ve verified the contents.”
Convincing the Authenticator that the Reserve Manager was actually who he was, and wasn’t being coerced took the better part of an hour. Then it took another hour to unlatch all the safety measures surrounding the vault door. The Reserve Manager’s anxiety increased every second, his mind racing through all the possible circumventions that could’ve been implemented to bypass his security measures. By the time they opened it a crack wide enough to slide a person through, his compounded anxiety was so high he was the first one in before any security could check beforehand. In his heightened state, a perfunctory check of the interiors was all the verification he needed. A wave of relief washed over him, leaving him weak at the knees.
“Good. Everything’s still here.”
“Was there ever any doubt?”, the Investigator who’d been calmly observing all the previous drama asked, taking a closer look at one of the gold bars. “You said you visited the vault yesterday, and no one else has come in since then?”
“Yes, to verify transfer from one of our branches for safekeeping.”
“That’s what I thought. Why then, does it bear the logo belonging to a completely different branch?”
“We also accept gold bars from other institutions.”
“Then they should be further in instead of near the entrance. Yes, storing valuables from other branches isn’t unheard of. Each gold bar has its own individual fingerprint depending on the purity of separating metals such as copper, zinc, and silver, giving each composition their individual mineral makeup. The chances of a gold bar having the same impurities of equal parts to a million are one in a million. Strange that it has the same fingerprint as the others.”
“Is it not too late to join?”, the Safecracker asked.
“You missed a very convincing presentation.”
“If it was that good, maybe you could convince me. Prove that you haven’t been snowed in by that guy’s words.”
“It’s really quite simple. We were shown a series of late-night transfers operating undercover from gold preserve branches towards this one. Past history has shown multiple instances of trades occurring between them.”
“Yes, that’s normal.”
“The late night deliveries were all from banks containing gold reserves. Making gold transfers into a vault before the place was supposed to be investigated. And yet, we were told not to touch any of the gold.”
“Yeah, that always bugged me. Going to all that trouble and not stealing any of the nationally protected stuff.”
“Unless... that was just for appearances’ sake. To give off the illusion of surplus wealth.”
“I’m not sure I see the connection.”
“Think about it. There’s been numerous mining excavations for precious minerals producing results, even though the remaining reserves were supposed to have dried up long ago. And yet, the amount of discovered gold only continues to grow. Where is all that gold coming from?”
“That’s - ” The Safecracker started to speak, then stopped mid-sentence before any words could form. The Associate watched expectedly, knowing the Safecracker liked solving puzzles, enjoying the facial expressions he made trying to suss out the solution, thoughts tumbling through his head, going through multiple chambers of logic at once until they settled down onto an impossible realization. “You’re talking about the largest pile of gold in history!”
“I’ve been doing some independent research, and some similarities between branches was found. I’ve had various private teams check the vaults from where these gold deposits originated. And do you know what they found?”
All around the world, the selected gang of thieves had made their way, infiltrating numerous high-profile banks. They covertly entered the targeted vaults using various means via their own selected members without anyone noticing and took the vast immensity of the interiors in.
“There’s not as much gold as there should be.”
“Where’d all the gold go?”
“There’s just an IOU in place.”
“This is just a stock photo in front of a camera!”
“These gold bars are just stale cakes!”
“There was far less gold bars than what was recorded in their official entries. You know what I think? I think the integrity of the gold reserve has been compromised.”
With this, the Investigator’s suspicions was vindicated. The world was run on an illusion. Of promises of future profits that never came to fruition. There was only intangible numbers mixed with very few tangible resources that could be touched. And all attempts to verify these figures were daunted.
“I think the world’s finances are involved in a massive gold-laundering operation. Money laundering is basically having money in one place, then switched to another location to make it seem like income is more widespread than there actually is. They’ve simply been money laundering with gold instead, having gold under one account in one place, then transfered to another location with the serial numbers changed. But reshaping the gold alloys takes time, so handling the precious metals is the real reason given for taking their sweet time showing clients their wares when they’re actually moving them.”
“Is such a thing even possible??”
“That’s what I intend to find out. The goal isn’t to rob the Vault itself. The goal is to create a disturbance elsewhere.”
“You’re clearly not in it for the money. What are you hoping to get out of this?”
“Security. Insulation. If I’m right, it’ll shake the foundations of the world for years to come.”
“You must realize that they’re prepared for every eventuality, no matter how absurd.”
“That’s exactly what I’m counting on.”
“Since gold is extremely malleable, it could be easily reshaped in other forms and transferred to multiple locations worldwide where the deposits would be safely secured at specific locations where they would be observed and tallied before being relocated elsewhere. A simple trick that works as long as you’re looking in one place at a time. As long as only a limited number of people don’t observe their gold at the same time. In fact, there’s a lot less gold worldwide than there actually is, and you’ve been shifting gold to make it look like there plenty of gold around. The similarity of the logo between all branches makes it easy to be tweaked with minor revisions via a smelting port that changes the design from one branch to another, all without being noticed. Normally, rebranding the gold bars would’ve been done as soon as possible. But there wasn’t enough time. You never intended for anybody to see the contents of the vault until the rebranding had been made. Have I got it right?”
The Reserve Manager’s silence was all the Investigator needed.
“This seems like the kind of national secret that you would go to any lengths to conceal. Tell you what. How about you make me and my team part of your private cabal? We have the knowhow to prevent this scandal from getting out, and can prevent this from happening again. Otherwise, we reveal this fraud to the world.”
The Reserve Manager took these accusations in stride, his gaze averted to an object held by the Investigator’s side.
“What were you doing with a Geiger counter?”
“I like to be prepared.”
“And you just happened to have one on hand when our radiation detectors failed? Only bringing it out when we were halfway out and not before?” The Reserve Manager thought for a moment. “I have a better idea. I have you taken in for attempting to gain illegal access, blatant blackmail and undermining the world currency.”
“Wait, that’s not how the script’s supposed to go!”
“Get real. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Don’t you care about the integrity of the branch?”
“I already owe too much money to people who already know.”
“I know my rights! I demand a trial!”
“Do you really think you’ll be able to air your grievances in public? Honestly, it’d be a relief if you’d just spill the beans. Then they’d know who to blame.”
“If anything happens to me, my suspicions about this place will become public!”
“You mean the files kept in Account #34BH-N964slbQ^KL at the Keystone branch?”
The Investigator tried and failed to conceal an incredulous expression of, ‘How did you know?’ off his face.
“You think we wouldn’t hire on someone without checking out their history first? We’ve also persuaded the reporters you’ve talked to, to disavow all knowledge of your discoveries. I wouldn’t put much stock in your friends coming to your rescue. They’d be more concerned with saving their own hide. Over time, this incident will blow over, and your attempted attempt at exposure will be little more than a footnote in some dusty forgotten tome lost to history.”
As he watched the Investigator being hauled away by the guards, the Reserve Manager picked up the receiver and contacted the Authenticator for the new password, committing it to memory before closing the vault once more. The confidential vault secure again, he then connected to the bank holding the Investigator’s security box.
“I want you to close the contents of Account #34BH-N964slbQ^KL.”
“It’s empty.”
“That was fast. Now, I want you to take those contents and incinerate them.”
“What contents?”
“Playing dumb already? That’s very proactive if a little premature, but I’m going to need you to make sure that those corroborative pieces of evidence never see the light of day.”
“There’s no evidence.”
“Don’t play around with me! You’re in no position to bargain. I can have you fired from your position and replaced with someone more capable of following simple commands and your reputation scattered to the winds. I have that power.”
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing of the safety deposit box, either inside or out.”
“You said you emptied it!”
“No, I said it was empty. It, and the surrounding deposit boxes. I’ve been trying to explain.”
It turned out that unknown to all, a separate team of bank robbers made their way into the Investigator’s bank whose defenses were ripe for exploits to be patched over later, stealing the plans from his shoddily defended drawer. The Investigator would’ve noticed the missing plans, but was preoccupied by his current project and hadn’t gotten around to it. Using his leaked plans, the thieves executed the caper, emptying as many safety deposit boxes as possible before leaving, unaware of the value of what they’d just purloined. Once the gang counted the loot, they argued in vain trying to decipher the inexplicable conspiracy theory before someone got the bright idea of selling it to a gossip news agency with low scruples for a high price.
It’s so strange to see a loosely biographical movie based on your life generated after the fact. I’d been told I was involved in a bank robber, but was ignorant about the particulars. It was never about the robbery. It was about the discovery. It was for revealing the secret behind the curtain that I was ultimately discredited and locked away. For daring to expose this gold laundering scandal, my crime was deemed so great that they decided to lock me in suspended animation for life... in a minimum security prison.
And yet, they still made a thriller out of it.
There were astounding embellishments and historical inaccuracies mixed with surprising realism that made telling lies from the truth impossible if you hadn’t lived through the events depicted. What most surprised me was how much I agreed with the methods used. Everything the lead did sounded like something I would do or say. But I have no memory of it.
Which leads me to wonder - was I a patsy who agreed with the true ringleader? If so, then the circumstances surrounding my cushy surroundings make more sense.
I just wish I knew who it was.
At this point, does it really matter? Anybody involved in the scandal has long since passed on, and I’m still being punished for something I don’t remember.
I took another look at the poster. The lead didn’t look a thing like me.
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