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The Clockwork Heist

There was no moon in the sky, but from the glow of the streetlights I could clearly make out the figure standing in front of Reynold's Trust and Savings: a Clockwork Sentinel. It was a Model 8, top of the line. The blasted thing stood motionless at the base of the stairs leading up to the entryway, as if ready to pounce at the slightest hint of wrong doing.

With that clockwork on duty, the bank was impenetrable. It was over nine feet in height. The right arm was a .45 caliber Gatling Gun, belt fed and capable of spitting out over 100 rounds a minute. The left arm ended in a large claw that would make even old Captain Hook envious.

That wasn't all. The pistons powering the legs could propel the sentinel faster than a locomotive and over a two-story building. Even the eyes were fixed with some sort of telescopic lenses capable of picking out a hummingbird from over a thousand yards. Not to mention, the whole thing was encased in an industrial steel exoskeleton making it impenetrable to conventional weapons.

It was enough to make the fiercest desperado west of the Pecos tremble in his boots. I moved past the clockwork quickly and worked my pick in the door lock. An instant later, I was in Reynold's Trust and Savings. Good that the bank clerk in charge of winding the thing was on vacation.

Story by:

Matthew J. Barbour

20 December 2013