The helicopter decended onto the roof, and the man jumped off, landing ungracefully with a THUMP.
He was closely followed by another, a new man. He was tanned and comparatively enormous to the first, with bulging, almost unrealistic muscles.
"This is the place, right?" he spoke with a thick Australian accent.
"Yup," said the first. "Got the cargo? He asked in an all of a sudden hushed voice.
The thin man peered out.
"Yup. £30,000," he replied.
"Thirty thousand?! What have they been doing, robbing a bank?" Julie whispered.
"Looks like it," said Tom, pointing to a bundle of black hanging out of the fat man's pocket. "That must be the mask."
"We have to tell someone!"
"Not yet. Right now it's too risky."
The thin man pulled out a large, bulging sack.
"Right here, safe and sound."
"Heh heh... Wonderful. Mr. Pitch will be delighted."
"Mr Pitch? Is he their evil boss or something?" Julie hissed.
"No... Mr Pitch is a businessman, and my dad's arch-nemesis. Unless..."
Tom looked at Julie, alarmed.
"He's been struggling with finances recently, so maybe he's hiring people to rob the bank for him... "
"But that's not buisiness! That's... well, robbery!"
Tom paused, thinking of his next move.
"First off, we try and escape," he hissed, nudging her. "That's our main priority."
"But the men...!"
"We'll tell someone. Later. Right now we have to get out."
Julie could feel her own mind trying to fight against his reasoning; but instead, reluctantly, she let him gently pull her arm away from safety and into the battlefield.
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