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Riley's Fourteen (Short Story)


weeeman27bob

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£150 million.

That’s how much we were set to make that night.

If we pulled it off that was.

It would be the biggest robbery on British soil, with nearly three times as much as the infamous Securitas Depot theft. Not only would it be the biggest heist in the United Kingdom, but it would probably be the biggest in the world. Ever.

So no pressure then.

The year was 2011. London was hosting the first Great Exhibition of the 21st century. What do you mean you don’t know what a Great Exhibition is...?

Well, in the year 2010, the United Nations decided that each country needed to host a Great Exhibition in the next 90 years to promote everything good it stood for. The first country to host one would be drawn out of a hat. A lavish draw was held and in front of all the world’s media, England was drawn out.

One year of preparation later, and the first Great Exhibition was ready. It was full of everything from art to apple pies, jewellery to jams, but most importantly for us, money. In excess of £150 million would be spent over the event. And every single penny of it would flow straight into the vault. So if we wanted any chance of even getting a sniff of the money, we’d need to break into it.

I don’t suppose you know very much about vaults, but this was right at the top. I don’t know if it was the best vault in the world, but it was certainly in the top one. We couldn’t tunnel into it and so we’d have to break into it. With 3ft thick steel doors, motion sensors, lasers and four guards, it would be easier said than done.

It would need a crew of fourteen.

Or as it would come to be known, Riley's fourteen.

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£150 million in wages? Pfft. I wish! I should also probably point out that this will be played on FM10, although it really doesn't make much difference.

What we needed though was a way in. A way in so nobody would suspect it was us. It came through the most British of passions: Football. The Great Exhibition was hosting a small football tournament, open to any amateur team. However, with it being run by the Government, it had a ludicrous entry fee that hardly anyone would pay. Except us.

In the end there were sixteen teams willing to pay the entry fee including ourselves. It would be a simple knockout style tournament with the winners winning the grand prize. The grand prize would be nothing compared to our take though, which was why we needed to lose in the semi finals. But before that we need a squad, which was conveniently limited to fourteen players.

Obviously I was number one.

There was also no question about number two. Ted Jones had been part of every heist I’d ever pulled off. Luckily, he also had some skill as a footballer, and back in the day, was a promising central defender.

We organised a meet up, at a nondescript London café.

“What are we pulling off?”

“ It’s big.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“ The Great Exhibition.”

“ And what are we actually robbing?”

“ I said it was big.”

He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head knowingly.

“We’re going to need a huge crew: Two tigers, an Ella Fitzgerald, a Miss Daisy and two Jethros, a Bruno, two grease monkeys, two heavies and a Renoir”

Well we better get on it then” I replied.

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Thank you for your kind words gentlemen, it means a lot to me.

Numbers one and two of the team would be, without doubt, Ted and myself. He were the brains of the crew, the people that made it tick. The third member of the team was an old favourite of ours. Morgan Wheeler, like his name suggested, was a driver. He’d stuck with us through thick and thin ( but mainly thick), and was a decent right back.

The fourth member of our team was picked up at a nearby speedway circuit. Rhys Bailey was our other Jethro. A fearsome driver who liked nothing more than crunching into other cars. He'd be our other full back.

We found Will O’Connor in the depths of Cyberspace. Admittedly we had no idea who he actually was, but rumour had it he’d be able to pull of the Ella Fitzgerald. He was, however, a scrawny little chap, and so would play mainly as a sub.

Our two wingers both came from the same circus company. Wei Chu and Park Fang were both young acrobats and would be the grease monkeys. They were both aged 21, and their agility would suit them nicely to play as wingers.

Despite my best intentions, we were forced to pick up two Americans to play the tigers. The “tiger” is a criminal ploy in which an attractive man outclass another by his use of women, so named after the infamous golfer. Richard Jennings and Chris Davis were apparently two of the best in the business. Whether their footballing skills would be up to it though, who knows. They’d both play up front or in the centre, where their dashing good looks suited the role to perfection

The Bruno was one of the hardest to find. In contrast to the tigers he was to be a flamboyant homosexual. What his role in the actual crime was, I had no idea, but Ted assured me that it was necessary. You had to laugh at the irony of his name. Frank-Lee Gay was again, not the hardest man in the world, and would be a sub.

A Miss Daisy would normally be the police vehicle itself, but in our case, it would be a Policeman. Or at least someone pretending to be one. Daniel Rowley was a master of disguise and deception. He convinced us he could play in goal, but with his powers, who knows?

The two heavies came next. We picked both of them up from nightclubs in Slough. Neither Kyle Nash nor Sean Porter would have any trouble getting their way. They were both sizeable lads. One would play in defence, partnering Ted, whilst the other would be a midfield enforcer.

Finally we picked up our Renoir, a forger. Marco Picco was Italian by descent but welsh by choice. He was a dab hand at forging anything from passports to voucher coupons. Despite his Italian roots, he wasn’t the best footballer and would be a sub.

So there we had our team. Now we needed to pull it off.

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