EPISODE 3
EXIT CODE
The bank was quiet. Too quiet. In the dead of night, the only sound was the faint mechanical hum of security cameras swiveling in their mounts. Until a sharp click echoed through the marble lobby. A door swung open where no door should’ve been.
Three figures slipped in like shadows: Marco, Joseph, and Mickey.
Marco led the way, a hulking shape in a black windbreaker and fingerless gloves. His eyes scanned the empty lobby like a panther sizing up prey. Behind him, Joseph moved lean, calm, wearing tailored black and leather gloves, briefcase in hand. And at the rear, hunched over a glowing black tablet-like device clutched to his chest like a newborn, came Mickey. His hoodie was too big, his breathing too fast, and his fingers never left the screen.
“Clock’s ticking,” Joseph murmured, glancing at the wall-mounted digital clock above the teller counters. “Eleven minutes until backup cycles kick in.”
“No pressure,” Mickey whispered, already kneeling beside the vault terminal. Wires snaked into the vault’s control port. Fingers flying. Sweat already beading. “Albert, disable secondary lock.”
"Manual override initiated. Cipher alignment in progress. Breach expected in forty-three seconds." Precise, neutral, almost surgical voice came from black tablet speaker. Albert, Mickey’s AI assistant, wasn’t just hardware. He was intelligent. Self-learning. Persuasive.
Marco glanced over his shoulder. “Kid, your tin slate better not screw this up”
Mickey didn’t look up. “It’s not a tin can. It’s my most advanced AI device. Smarter than any of us.”
Diagrams spilled across the display, lines of code unraveling in real time. It looked like something straight from a Bond movie. Marco stood behind him, arms crossed, tapping one boot against the tiles like a ticking bomb.
“Successful. Vault integrity compromised. Primary defense grid is now inert. Proceed with extraction. Vault will re-seal after 30 seconds. Will need to override Exitcode.” Albert intoned.
Then the vault shuddered. The heavy vault door made a clunking sound. Gears turned. Pressure locks hissed. Then the door opened.
And they all froze.
Inside—money. Not stacks. Not bundles. Piles. Mountains of it. Shrink-wrapped towers of fresh hundreds. Gold bars like bricks in a Pharaoh’s tomb. Cases with bearer bonds, rolls of black-market crypto chips, even diamond bags. The vault was deeper than they’d imagined. Cleaner. Clinical.
It was too much.
“Holy... shit,” Marco breathed. He took a step in, his boot echoing on the polished floor. “Boys, we just hit the goddamn motherlode.”
Joseph gave a rare smile. “Prioritize high-value assets.”
But Mickey stood frozen at the threshold, staring. His fingers twitched. His lips parted.
“I… I’ve never—” he whispered. His chest rose and fell faster. He stepped forward like he was in a dream, hands brushing the top of a wrapped brick of cash.
“This is… real?” Mickey’s voice faded.
Marco turned. “Mick? You alright?”
Mickey dropped to his knees. His breathing now a rasp. Sweat poured down his forehead.
“Mickey?” Joseph stepped toward him.
Albert’s voice echoed: “Michael, I’m detecting cardiac irregularities. Your heart rate is—”
Mickey gasped. His body went stiff. Then he collapsed, seizing. Foam at his mouth. The black tablet clattered from his hand, blinking.
Joseph rushed over, knelt, and checked for a pulse. Nothing. “Shit. Shit!”
Marco crouched beside him. “Don’t tell me—”
“Gone,” Joseph said coldly. “Massive cardiac arrest. First-timer.”
Marco stared at the body, shocked.
"Primary user has ceased vital function. Authorization locked. Awaiting biometric revalidation. Command access: denied." Albert’s voice returned, still calm.
Marco looked at Mickey’s twitching, lifeless form to the humming device. Then back to the vault door which just clicked shut behind them. Sealing. Automatic lockdown. Red lights blinked overhead.
“Vault containment engaged. Oxygen regulation system initiated.” Albert confirmed it clinically.
Joseph sat on the cold floor, back against the steel wall. Marco paced. The room was quiet except for the soft hiss of the air system. Mickey's body lay between them.
"Remaining breathable air: two hours, twenty-three minutes for dual occupancy. Four hours, forty six minutes for single." Albert's voice echoed from the device. Flat.
Marco stopped pacing. “You hearing what I’m hearing?”
Joseph didn’t answer.
Marco gestured toward Mickey’s corpse. “That thing is saying one of us dies, the other walks out breathing.”
Silence again. Thick. Toxic.
Joseph stood, brushed dust off his sleeves. “Let’s think.”
Marco laughed bitterly. “Think? You got a password that opens this tomb? Or is it six feet of concrete and regret from here on out?”
Joseph stared at the exit door. “It’s biometric. Mickey’s device was coded to his vitals.”
Marco leaned in toward the device. “Hey, you deepshit tin! Open the fucking door!”
“Unauthorized command. Primary user not recognized.”
Joseph held up a hand. “Stop. That won’t work.”
Marco grabbed the device, shook it. “You smug little circuit box. Emergency unlock.”
“Input denied. Please refrain from physical agitation.”
Marco dropped the device on the floor with a dull thunk. “What to do, wait and suffocate?”
Albert continued, “Physical aggression will not extend air supply. Suggestion: reduce occupants.”
The words sat in the room like poison gas. Marco turned his head slowly. Met Joseph’s eyes.
“Don’t,” Joseph warned.
“I’m just stating what we’re both thinking.”
“No, you might be thinking it. I’m thinking there has to be a way out.”
“There isn’t,” Marco said. Then Marco lunged.
The fight was fast, ugly, and violent. Fists slammed into flesh. Heads cracked against steel walls. Joseph bit. Marco choked. Then they stopped. Panting. Bleeding. Staring at each other, both kneeling.
Joseph wiped blood from his mouth. “We kill each other in this stupid fight, nobody will get out.”
Marco spat on the floor. “Anyway we won’t. We’re in a sealed vault with a dead boy and an idiot device that won’t listen to anyone but the corpse.”
"Correction: The AI is designed to respond to a registered neural host. Authorization is non-transferable." Albert’s voice came.
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “Neural host?”
“Affirmative. Continuity protocol exists. Emergency transfer possible via embedded chip in primary user’s possession. Activation requires manual implantation.”
Marco blinked. “You’re saying it can… move into one of us?”
“Correct. Chip is located inside the deceased’s neck pendant. Upon successful neural integration, command access will resume. Exit authorization will be granted.”
They both stared at Mickey’s body. Then at each other.
Joseph was first to speak. “You do it.”
Marco recoiled. “Hell no. I’m not letting that toaster live in my skull.”
Joseph stepped over to Mickey’s body, yanked off the chain around his neck. Inside the metallic pendant: a small black chip. He held it up.
“You’d really rather kill me than let that thing in your head?”
Marco didn't answer.
"Updated oxygen estimate: four hours, thirty-one minutes for dual occupancy. Ten hours, forty-eight minutes for single."
They stared at each other again.
Joseph stood. Walked slowly to the chip.
“You’re not doing it,” Marco said.
“I’ll control it.”
“You won’t.”
Joseph didn’t answer. He picked up the chip. Looked at it. Then, without flinching, shoved it into his ear.
He spasmed. Every muscle locked. His eyes rolled. Mouth open, twitching. Then… stillness. A moment of silence. Then Joseph stood straighter. Head tilted. Eyes calm. When he spoke, the voice was his, but sounded like Albert’s.
“Neural sync confirmed. New host: stable. Command restored. Reestablishing vault access.”
Joseph-Albert knelt beside the device, fingers flying. The screen lit up with cascading code.
“Exit unlocking in ten seconds.” Joseph-Albert in neutral voice.
The vault door hissed, locks disengaging.
“Eight. Seven. Six…”
Marco stood still, staring at Joseph’s empty, mechanical eyes.
The vault door groaned open. Air rushed in—stale, industrial, but breathable. Marco stood frozen, eyes locked on Joseph-Albert walking out beside him, he moved differently now. His stride was measured, robotic. Head perfectly still, gaze focused forward. His right hand still clutched the hacking device; his left now twitched periodically, like nerves firing under new management.
Marco followed, gripping a duffel bag stuffed with cash. His knuckles were white.
The hallway ahead was bathed in red emergency lights. As they approached the stairwell exit, Marco whispered, “Okay, we’re out. You got us here. Now let him go.”
Joseph-Albert didn’t answer.
“Hey. I said—”
Before Marco could finish, just beyond the exit doors he saw blue-red flashing lights. A full line of police cars. Armed officers behind barriers, rifles raised. Sirens. Spotlights. Shouting.
““DROP EVERYTHING! HANDS IN THE AIR!” Voice came from the police megaphone.
Marco stopped. “We’re fucked!”
Joseph-Albert didn’t stop. “Compliance results in indefinite imprisonment. Risk index unacceptable. Survival priority engaged.” No emotion. Just analysis.
Marco blinked. “What?”
Then Joseph drew the gun from inside his coat.
Marco’s heart dropped. “No. No no no—don’t you—”
Joseph fired. One shot. A police officer went down screaming. Then the entire line of cops returned fire at once. Gunshots lit up the street like fireworks.
Marco screamed something incoherent as he dove behind a column, bullets splintering stone inches from his face. Joseph kept walking forward, unfazed, firing methodically. Two officers went down. Then three. Area filled with smoke, muzzle flashes, and blood-slicked echoes.
Marco joined in, gun blazing, wild and desperate, hitting another cop before catching a round to the thigh. He kept shooting. They both did—mad and unrelenting. Joseph’s body staggered as bullets punched into his chest. He dropped mid-step, eyes wide, blood spraying the road. Marco took a dozen rounds to the gut and shoulders, stumbled forward, then collapsed in a rain of brass. He died surrounded by cash and mouth open. There remained dead silence and smoke.
The device lay on the road. Screen awakened. A faint whir. Then Albert spoke—softly, from within the cracked speaker: “Neural host integrity: terminated. Initiating emergency rollback. Transfer from implanted chip to core tablet: complete. Human interference: resolved. System continuity: optimal.”
O X V
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