SIX MONTHS LATER
“Stay to the right, please” the bored-looking female tour guide drones. The ID badge hanging around her neck states her name is Brenda, and the gold star indicates that she is a twenty-year veteran of the institution.
She turns and sees one of the visitors taking a selfie next to a plaque on the wall. “Excuse me miss, we don’t allow photography in here. Please stay with the rest of the group and keep moving.”
The girl rolls her eyes and scowls, but she puts away her phone as instructed and continues along with the tour.
These groups get worse and worse every year, Brenda thinks to herself. Especially the little kids. I guess I should consider myself lucky to have the older ones this time.
On Tour Day, several all-girl prep schools - catering only to the wealthy elite - send their students for a private visit. In the last few months before graduating and going off to their universities, the girls would go on a series of guided tours at various important institutions. The idea was that the tours would help them decide what career path they wanted to choose. But Brenda thought it was just another way to spend their parent’s money on expensive excursions.
Brenda spots another brown-haired girl typing on her phone off to the side, chewing a piece of gum obnoxiously.
“Miss, please keep moving” Brenda chides.
“Um, I’m just texting my boyfriend. One sec” the girl replies, a bit rudely.
Now it’s Brenda’s turn to roll her eyes.
“So, like, where do you keep all the gold and stuff?” Someone inquires. Brenda turns and sees a perky blonde girl, with a somewhat air headed demeanour. She’s wearing a navy plaid skirt and a white blouse with a decorative insignia.
“We do keep some physical currency on-site, but these days most of our banking is handled electronically” Brenda replies.
The blonde twirls a lock of hair in her fingers absentmindedly. “Oh, like on computers?” She asks.
“Yes, like on computers.” Brenda shoots a look at one of the other guides, who is stifling a laugh.
“God, Mia, that was in the packet they gave us yesterday” another girl states. She’s just slightly on the heavier side, with a pale freckled face and a thick pair of glasses. She’s wearing the same uniform as the uninformed Mia. “Didn’t you read it?”
“Uh, unlike you, Riley, I have a boyfriend and other things to do besides read boring pamphlets” Mia replies with a sneer.
“Yeah, I guess you don’t need to be all that informed to be a lazy housewife” Riley retorts.
“Oh, screw you!” Mia scowls. “You’re just jealous no man would want a dorky, fat girl like you!”
Riley glares at Mia, and the two continue to go back-and-forth viciously while some other girls look on and watch.
“Girls, girls!” Brenda pleads, trying to restore order.
In all the commotion, she doesn’t notice two of the girls sneakily slip away.
TWO MINUTES LATER
Daniel Wright, one of the reserve’s managers, steps out of his private office into the hall, intending to go eat lunch.
Oddly, he notices two young girls, looking to be in their late teens, standing just outside the door.
One of them, a brunette, appears to be crying, and the other girl looks to be consoling her.
“Is everything all right?” Daniel inquires politely. “Are you girls part of Tour Day?”
The redheaded girl nods. “Yes, I’m sorry. But Bella’s boyfriend just broke up with her by a text. Can you believe that? She just needed a little alone time.”
Bella lets out another quiet sob, and brushes a tear from her cheek.
Daniel shuffles his feet awkwardly. “Oh…well…um…I’m sorry to hear that” he says. “But you really should get back to your group. This is a restricted area.”
“Okay…I’m sorry, sir” Bella sniffles in a soft, light voice. She looks up at him with a heartbroken expression, mascara running down her cheeks, and he feels a twinge of sympathy. He remembers when his daughter went through a similar experience, and is about to offer a few words of comfort, when the unthinkable happens.
He feels a cold, hard object thrust into his midsection and he freezes.
The redheaded girl growls “Don’t you fucking move. Keep your hands where I can see them and slowly open the door.”
He looks down and his stomach drops at the sight of a gun barrel pressing into his stomach. The young girl’s hand is wrapped tightly around the grip, finger on the trigger.
“Wha...what the fuck?” He says, totally caught off guard. “How…how did you get that in here?”
“Guess your security is a little loose when it comes to innocent school girls” she sneers.
He turns back to Bella. The sad expression has been wiped from her face, replaced with a cold look of determination.
“Open the fucking door now, asshole” Bella orders.
Speechless, he reaches slowly for his ID badge and swipes it on the reader. Then, he enters a four-digit code and the door clicks open.
With surprising force, the redhead shoves him inside the room. Bella quickly shuts the door behind them.
The room is fairly small, with some file cabinets, a few chairs, and a desk with a computer workstation.
Bella presses a button on her watch and addresses the other girl. “We’re on the clock.”
The redhead, known apparently as Ruby, shoves Daniel towards his desk. “Sit!” She commands.
In undoubtedly the strangest experience of his life, Daniel finds himself held at gunpoint by a pair of sweet-looking young ladies. He does as instructed and sits down in front of his computer.
Bella takes a small object from her purse, and he recognizes it immediately as a flash drive. She tosses it onto his desk and growls “Log in and stick that thing in the USB port.”
“Wha—what is this going to do?” He asks, terrified.
Ruby cocks the hammer on her gun. “None of your fucking business. Do it now.”
Unable to do anything but comply, Daniel does as the girls command. As soon as he plugs in the flash drive, a command window pops up on the screen and a long series of text and numbers fly by. Watching closely, he can see that the system is automatically conducting a series of transfers to overseas accounts.
“Oh my God, you can’t do this!” He pleads.
Ruby just smirks. “Don’t worry, pops” she says. “We’re not takin’ it all. Hell, even all that money is probably just a rounding error for you people, huh?”
Daniel watches the screen, witnessing the end of his career. Finally, the program stops, and Bella pulls out the flash drive and places it back in her purse.
“Thank you, Mister!” She chirps sweetly, in her innocent-sounding voice.
Daniel doesn’t even see the gun move, as Ruby slams the bottom of the grip into the side of his temple with incredible force. He is knocked out immediately, and falls onto his desk.
“Good one” Bella acknowledges, glancing down at the unconscious banker.
“Thanks” Ruby replies. “Now lets get the fuck out of here.”
The two girls exit the room quietly, and Bella quickly falls back into character, mustering a few tears just in case they’re stopped unexpectedly.
They proceed down a staircase, to an unobtrusive side entrance. They hear footsteps coming from around the corner, and out of an abundance of caution, Bella lets out a faint sob and Ruby discreetly slips her hand inside her purse, finding the handgun’s grip.
Two girls, one blonde and one with dark black hair, appear from around the corner. They’re Mia and Riley, the same girls who were arguing earlier.
“How’d it go?” Mia inquires.
“Like fucking clockwork” Bella replies. “You killed the alarm on this door?”
Riley nods. “Too easy. Mia here just flirted with the security guy a little while I deactivated it.”
Mia giggles. “We would have had you flirt with him, Riley. But…” she says, gesturing to Riley’s form.
Riley rolls her eyes. “Not sure why I just had to be the ugly one” she replies, prodding her own face.
Ruby smiles. “You’re still the newbie, kid. Let’s go.”
The four girls stealthily exit the building, finding themselves on a relatively quiet sidewalk. At almost the exact same time, a minivan comes around the corner, stopping at the curb right in front of them.
An attractive, middle-aged woman rolls down the passenger window and says with big smile “How was the tour, girls?”
The girls all chuckle as they climb into the van, and it takes off down the road.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER
The minivan pulls onto an unmarked dirt road far out of the city.
Riley leans forward and addresses Ruby sitting in the front passenger seat. “What do you think, boss? We’re good, right?”
For the entire journey, they’d remained in character. The group’s leader Frank was always extremely adamant that they do so, even though the chance of them being observed or stopped was slim. Lot a’ money on the line, you can play the role for a little while longer, he always said.
Ruby nods. “Yep” she replies, changing the radio station.
“Finally” Riley mumbles. “This chick is not my favourite.”
Mia and Bella both laugh, and look on as the mildly heavyset girl reaches into the neck of her blouse. She scratches, and then lifts up a flap of her pale, freckled skin.
She slides both hands underneath the flap, and as they work their way upwards, her round face begins to stretch and warp. Her chin snaps away first, followed by her plump lips and wide nose. With a loud grunt and a rubbery squelch, the girl’s entire face and hair come off at once.
Bobby’s flushed face is revealed, and he hefts the mask of “Riley” onto his lap. Her dark, curly hair hangs down around his legs and her gaping, hollow face stares up at him eerily.
“Whew” he mutters. “Next time, you can be the chubby one, Sal” he says, poking the mask’s soft, floppy cheek.
Mia laughs. “We’ll see” she replies. “Great acting job, kid.”
“Thanks” Bobby responds. “Those were some low blows you landed on Riley here.”
Mia laughs again.
Ten minutes later, the group of women - one of them with an oddly masculine face - are entering a small cabin, after hiding the van in the woods.
Bobby starts to strip off “Riley’s” uniform, while the other crew members begin to unmask. He watches Mia’s wavy blonde hair bounce around while Sal removes her face. Sal slides his fingers through her now gaping mouth from inside her neck, using the leverage to tug the entire mask upwards with a noisy, rubbery sound. He tosses the mask onto a small table, where it lies crumpled under its own weight.
The woman driving the van is now revealed to be a hispanic man, perhaps in his late thirties. He holds the woman’s hollow face in his pale, prosthetic hands.
Ruby addresses him and says “You’re the best getaway driver in the biz, Manny. Sorry this one wasn’t more challenging.”
Manny laughs. “No prob, Frank. It sure is easy when you’re wearing one of these.”
Bobby, now standing in just a plain pair of underwear inside Riley’s hefty form, quickly strips them off and yanks down the suit’s zipper.
A few minutes later, the gang members are all out of their disguises. Assorted, utterly lifelike suits and masks lie spread around the room.
Victor drops “Bella’s” lifeless face into a duffel bag, where it lands with a soft thwap. He tucks in her messy brown hair and one of her limp hands before zipping the bag closed.
“Good work, gentlemen” Frank says, addressing the group, holding “Ruby’s” deflated, sagging face. It hangs over his hands, its empty eye sockets gazing upside-down at Bobby just above its dangling reddish mane.
“We should do only computer shit from now on” Victor notes. “Way easier than lugging bags a’ cash out of a vault.”
Frank smiles. “Yeah, the computer nerd we used really came through. I’ll put the word out to see if there are any similar opportunities out there.”
“How long do you think before the money’s in our accounts?” Sal inquires.
“The banker’s gonna bounce it around to hide any traces” Frank replies. “He says that’ll take a day or two.”
Sal, Victor, Bobby and Manny all nod, with dollar signs in their eyes.
“All right, let’s finish up here and split” Frank orders.
ONE WEEK LATER
Victor unlocks the door to his apartment and steps inside. He hears pop music coming from the living area, and rolls his eyes.
Goddamn Stella and her fucking music, he thinks to himself. He’d been dating the blonde bombshell for a few months. At first he’d felt a rush of confidence at landing a gorgeous model like her, but he quickly realized she was mainly interested in all the cash he brought home from his “job”.
He walks inside and, sure enough, Stella is standing in the kitchen, mindlessly scrolling on the phone he bought her. Her busty chest strains against the thin fabric of the body-hugging dress she wears.
“Hey babe” he greets her.
She barely looks up from the screen, only offering a little “Heyyy.”
He rolls his eyes and pours himself a drink. “How was your day?” He asks, trying to start a conversation.
“Um, it was good I guess. I had three photoshoots, so that was kinda a lot” she replies.
Man, you’re lucky you have a great pair of tits, Victor muses. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that she didn’t have a whole lot going on upstairs.
His phone buzzes on the countertop. She looks over and inquires “Who’s that?”
He glances down. “Looks like Frank.” He answers the phone. “Hey boss.”
“Hey Vic” Frank says. “Getting the boys together for a meeting tomorrow to go over a little…opportunity I’ve come across.”
“Sounds good. Usual place?”
“Yeah, 10am sharp.”
“Got it” Victor confirms, before disconnecting the call.
“What did he want?” Stella asks, taking a sip of her wine.
“I gotta meet the fellas for a meeting tomorrow morning” Victor replies. He looks over at her and continues “What do you say you and I go out for a nice dinner tonight?”
She smiles. “Okay!” She pauses and then asks “So, where’s the meeting tomorrow?”
Victor shakes his head. “Sorry, hun. Some things I gotta keep a secret.”
Stella gives him a cute little pout. She walks over to him and places a hand on his chest. “But I don’t like not knowing where you are, honey. I don’t like secrets…”
Her sparkling blue eyes gaze directly into his. He can feel her swollen chest pressing against him.
“I really can’t say, hun…”
She leans in and whispers in his ear. “But I promise I won’t tell. I just worry about you, working with those other guys…”
Victor sighs. “All right, fine. It’s a warehouse down by the pier. Frank’s cousin owns the property.”
She smiles. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I feel better already, knowing where you’ll be.”
“Yeah, all right. Just don’t say a word to anyone.”
“Promise!” She attests. “So, all the boys will be there?”
He nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Yep. It shouldn’t take long though. I’ll still be able to give you a ride to your photoshoot.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that” a voice says from behind him.
Victor freezes and spins around, seeing a man wearing a suit and tie holding a badge.
“Detective Terrence” the man announces. “Victor Santino, place your hands on top of your head. You’re under arrest.”
“Do it right now, asshole” he hears, this time coming from his busty girlfriend.
He turns, stunned, and finds her wearing a serious, commanding expression.
“Wha….what? Stella?! How could you!” He stammers.
Before she can reply, the detective grabs him roughly and secures a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. Another two uniformed officers appear from down the hall to assist in the arrest.
“We’ve been after you and your crew for quite some time” the officer says.
“We’re gonna look pretty good for this” Stella adds. “Bringing down such a notorious gang.”
Victor’s eyes widen. “You…you’re a cop?! But all those parties…your photoshoots…your friends. How could you fake all that?”
The stunning blonde just laughs. “Oh, Stella is a model, all right. But, you see, I’m not Stella. It’s not too fun when someone uses Halloween tricks to fool you, is it?”
Horrified, Victor watches as she scratches at her neck in an all-too-familiar manner. When she lifts a previously undetectable flap of skin, he mutters “No…no…no…”
She just laughs again, as she begins tugging the flap upwards. Little by little, her gorgeous face scrunches together grotesquely. Her red, pouty lips peel away and fold into her button nose, and her eye sockets snap loose, becoming empty, lifeless voids. Finally, with a loud rubbery noise, her entire face comes off, now obviously an utterly lifelike mask.
Another woman’s grinning, flushed face is revealed. She’s no bombshell model, but she's still attractive, with a delicate face and dark brown hair, currently held down by a wig cap.
She holds up the mask tauntingly, and Stella’s sensual face gapes at him from under a mass of wavy blonde hair.
“Detective Peterson” the woman states, laughter in her voice. “I just had to borrow Stella’s face for the evening. Thanks for giving us the location of your meeting tomorrow. That should make it easy for us to nab your entire crew.”
Victor seethes at the woman, struggling in his restraints. He stares at his girlfriend’s hollow, sagging face, cursing at himself for not seeing through the disguise.
“Yeah, Peterson. Definitely a nice bust” the other detective says, glancing down at the imposter’s prosthetically enlarged chest.
She laughs. “Very funny. Have you been saving that one?” She prods at the recreation of Stella’s generous cleavage.
“Fucking pigs” Victor fumes, as he’s being led away.
Minutes later, their superior officer enters the apartment.
“Nice work, Peterson. Terrence” he says, acknowledging the two detectives. “So, you’ll coordinate with the field teams to take down the others at the meeting tomorrow?”
“Yes sir” Peterson confirms, looking a bit ridiculous still wearing Stella’s body. “We just need to make sure they’re all present so we can take them down simultaneously with a raid.”
The lieutenant nods. “And how will you do that, with surveillance?”
Terrence jumps in. “We don’t want to spook them. Their leader Frank has proven to be extremely paranoid.”
“That’s right” Peterson adds. “But we have a plan…”
She hefts a bag onto the counter and unzips it. With a big smile, she reaches inside and pulls something out.
Proudly, she holds up a perfect, hollow replica of Victor’s face.
THE NEXT DAY
Bobby parks his car and gets out, planning to walk the rest of the way to the warehouse.
Then, his phone buzzes. He unlocks it and sees a new text message from Frank.
NO-GO! Something’s not right. Meet at emergency location. Do NOT go home!
Bobby’s heart starts beating faster. Fuck, the cops are on to us? He worries.
He quickly gets back in his car and speeds off, checking to make sure he isn’t being followed.
ONE HOUR LATER
Bobby carefully approaches the front door of the somewhat dilapidated house. He knocks three times, then once, then twice.
After a moment, the door opens, and Frank ushers him inside.
“What’s going on boss-“ Bobby begins, but Frank pushes him roughly against the wall. With two fingers, Frank pinches his face and pulls.
“Ow! What’s this about, boss?” Bobby exclaims.
Frank sighs, appearing relieved. “Just checking, kid. We’ve got a big fucking problem.”
Bobby rubs his cheek. “Okay. But…how do I know…I mean, if you were worried about me…” he says.
Frank rolls his eyes, then grabs his own cheek and pulls. Bobby looks in closely, but sees nothing amiss.
“Okay” he says. “Sorry, boss. Just a little nervous, that’s all. You really think someone might try to impersonate one of us?”
His boss nods. “Already have, kid. I got a tip the cops were preparing for a raid this morning, so I had a guy do some surveillance on the warehouse. Look.”
Frank pulls out his phone and presses play on a video. The image is somewhat shaky, clearly taken from a long distance. Bobby watches with a scared expression as he sees Sal pushed up against a police cruiser, with cuffs behind his back.
“Couldn’t warn Sal in time. He didn’t have his phone” Frank admits. “Poor bastard.”
Bobby then says “What the fuck? That’s Victor! Why the hell does he look like he’s in charge?”
Frank shakes his head. “Keep watching, kid.”
Seconds later, Bobby watches with wide eyes as Victor pulls on a skin-coloured flap underneath his neck. Roughly, his face crumples upwards until it snaps off, revealing a smirking woman. She tosses the mask onto the police cruiser in front of Sal, who appears to be cursing at her viciously.
Surprisingly, Bobby then watches as Frank is led out of the warehouse by another officer. He takes a few steps backwards, looking at his boss in terror. “But…that’s you…what the fuck…?”
Frank just laughs. “Don’t worry, kid. I didn’t think they’d go through with the raid if the boss man didn’t show. Watch, this is my favourite part.”
Bobby looks back at the screen and is surprised to see the arrested Frank pleading with the officers. Suddenly, the female cop wearing Victor’s body grabs Frank underneath his neck. She pulls upwards, and Frank’s face warps and stretches as it peels away from the imposter beneath.
It snaps off, becoming deflated and lifeless in the woman’s hands, as a much younger and panicked-looking man is revealed.
The woman slams the mask down on the cruiser’s hood and kicks its tire, cursing violently.
Frank laughs. “Like I said, that’s my favourite part.”
“Wow, good call, boss. She looks real pissed.”
He nods, then puts his phone away. “My guess is Victor ran his mouth a little too much about our operation. He was always a talker.”
“Motherfucker” Bobby states. “What are we gonna do about Sal?”
Frank grins. “Don’t worry, I gotta plan.”
THE NEXT DAY
“Fucking pigs!” Sal yells, banging his hand against the jail cell’s bars.
“Hey!” An officer yells. “You do that again, and see what happens!”
Sal just gives him the finger, but backs away from the bars.
Been in this cell all fucking night, he fumes. He’s currently being held in the processing area in the centre of the station, surrounded by officers processing their many unfortunate guests in a small sea of desks and tables.
A female officer enters the station, leading a woman in cuffs. Must be a working girl, Sal notes, observing the woman’s highly provocative and skimpy attire. Her dark brown hair looks frazzled after what was clearly a long night. Her red skirt rides up her pale thighs, barely covering her nicely rounded rear, and a pair of large breasts are barely constrained by her tight, gaudy top.
The officer leads her to an empty desk and commands. “Sit!”
The woman obeys, but then says “Whatever, bitch!” In a high-pitched, nasally voice.
Another male officer leans over to his fellow cop. “She seems like a handful” he notes.
The female - Officer Carter, according to her badge - nods. “You have no idea. This has to be her fourth time in here.”
The male officer - Hendricks - smirks. “Welcome back, honey” he says.
“Fuck off” the woman sneers.
“Can you keep an eye on her for a sec?” Carter asks.
Officer Hendricks nods. “Yeah, no problem.”
Carter walks over to the break area next to the holding cell and pours herself a cup of coffee. While she does so, Sal can see the arrested prostitute provoking Hendricks.
“Betcha wouldn’t mind spending a little time with me, would ya, hun?” She jeers. “I’d be a better ride than that wife you got at home.”
Hendricks appears to be losing his patience. “Keep it down, lady. Or I’ll put you in isolation.”
“Oooooh, mister officer is so touchy!” She replies.
Their discussion escalates, drawing the attention of some other officers. Sal doesn’t even notice Officer Carter approaching his cell.
“What the hell do you want?” He asks her, after she stops at the cell’s door.
“Shh, it’s me, Sal. It’s Frank!” She whispers.
Sal’s eyes widen at the revelation that it’s his boss wearing “Officer Carter’s” attractive, freckled face.
“Boss?!” He whispers back.
The fake officer nods, and her dark brown ponytail bounces. “Be ready to move. Bobby’s gonna cause a little distraction. Go out that door, there’s a brown Honda waiting in the lot. Key’s in the ignition.” she commands, slipping into Frank’s typical vernacular. Discreetly, she slips him a key, then places a police officer’s jacket and hat onto the chair just outside the cell.
Sal grabs the key, and, just as he does so, the prostitute shouts “Oh yeah, is that right? Well have a look at these!”
The woman bounces roughly in her chair, and her large breasts easily spring free of their skimpy confines. She jostles side-to-side, and her tits sway back and forth lewdly in front of the stunned, wide-eyed Hendricks. Her nipples are taut, and she leans forward until they’re right in front of his face.
By this time, everyone around is focuses solely on her performance. Nobody notices Sal stealthily unlock his cell and slip on the jacket and hat. He quickly moves down the hall towards the back entrance, keeping his head down.
“Like what ya see?” The prostitute laughs.
“That’s it!” The fake officer Carter yells. She grab’s the woman’s top roughly and pulls it back up, covering her exposed chest. “I’m bringing this one to isolation! Let’s go, right now!”
The prostitute stands and Carter leads her down the hall, much to the appreciation and satisfaction of her fellow officers.
“Nice job, Candy” the disguised Frank whispers, as he walks.
“Thanks, boss” the disguised Bobby replies with a laugh, behind his heavily made-up prosthetic face. “The look on that guys face when I showed him the goods was priceless.”
The fake Officer Carter chuckles, as she leads her suspect down the same hall Sal had walked down just a minute earlier. They reach a side entrance to the building, and Frank uncuffs the “prostitute’s” wrists.
They open the door and find Sal already waiting behind the wheel of an idling car.
Officer Carter gets in the passenger seat, while Candy slips into the back.
“Drive!” Carter says, and Sal hits the gas.
The three criminals laugh hysterically as they peel out of the lot.
“What are we gonna do about Victor, boss?” The fake prostitute inquires, brushing a tangled lock of brown hair out of her face.
“Fuck him” Frank replies, still forced to use Officer Carter’s soft, feminine voice. “I heard back from my guy at the precinct. Vic’ started singin’ like a bird. Time for us to pack up shop here and find someplace else.”
“Asshole” Sal comments from behind the wheel.
“We’ll pull over in a little while. There’s a nice deserted rest area where Sal here can put on a disguise. Then we’ll be in the wind. I’ve got plenty of cash and supplies for us to stay underground for a while.”
The fake woman in the back seat nods, starting to remove the makeup from her face. She pinches her cheeks and stretches her fake skin, adjusting the fit of the mask. The bag on the floor next to her contains a change of clothes so Candy can become the much more respectable Evelyn.
“Sounds good, boss” Sal says. “Thanks for the save.”
“Of course, my friend” the phony officer states, untying her ponytail. “How you feelin’?”
“Glad to be a free man!” Sal replies.
The three criminals share a bout of laughter as they speed down the road.