Previously, Zack has a bit of a run-in with an old family friend, Bernard, but the fake audit ruse works like a charm.
The plan was working.
It wasn’t just working, it was really fucking working.
Zack and Sydney drove all around Alberta and Saskatchewan, focusing on towns that were just big enough to have True North Canadian bank branches, and a decent likelihood of having a deposit of foreign cash in their vaults.
Zack worried that the run-in with Bernard would mean an end to Ryan Clements, but every bank they visited afterwards opened their doors and their foreign currency rooms, just like the others. Zack had no idea if Bernard had said anything or not.
Zack and Sydney left Drumheller and went to Hanna, then up to Stettler, and then across to Camrose and Lloydminster. They wound through Saskatchewan, stopping in North Battleford and then south, overnighting in the small town of Elrose, before visiting True North branches in Swift Current, Moose Jaw, and Yorkton. Sydney insisted that they drive through Saskatoon, the “Paris of the Prairies,” just because it was featured in the Tragically Hip song. Zack thought that Saskatchewan was nice enough, but the prairies just seemed to go on forever. It all looked the same.
Each time they visited a bank, their audit wasn’t questioned. Zack walked in, asked some questions and poked around, and then walked out with thousands of dollars. Some managers called the dummy phone extension that Sydney had set up, but when Zack and Sydney said all the right things, they let their guards down.
Zack couldn’t believe it. They were starting to run into space issues in the Corolla, with their baggage and all of the clear bags of foreign cash. Zack was even starting to enjoy the endless fields of green and gold. Sydney estimated that they had about two-hundred thousand dollars.
It was all going so well until they pulled up to Portage la Prairie.
Zack, dressed to the gills as Ryan, waltzed through the glass doors that led into the Portage la Prairie bank. He tugged his trusty carry-on suitcase behind him. He smiled at the first teller that he saw and moved to the front of the empty queue.
“Good morning. My name is Ryan Clements,” Zack flashed his fake badge, “and I’m here to conduct the foreign currency audit.”
The tellers exchanged puzzled looks. The woman he smiled at shook her head and opened her mouth to speak.
Zack held up a hand. “Eleven o’clock? No? Is your bank manager here?”
“Yes. I’ll go get her,” the woman said.
As he waited, Zack watched the weather network on the television that was mounted behind the tellers and drummed his fingers on the counter. The other teller, a middle-aged man refusing to acknowledge that he was balding, tapped on the keys of his computer.
“So, what do you usually do here?” Zack asked. “I’m from Toronto. Corporate HQ.”
The man looked up. He nodded. “Uhh. Without knowing what you’re into, it’s tough to say. I take my kids to the splash park a lot. Golf course is nice. Lots of farming out this way.”
Zack smiled. He still didn’t know shit about golf, the sport actually brought up bad memories of Cory. He also didn’t know anything about kids or farming either, so he just grinned at the man. He stretched to see behind him if the manager was coming.
A woman wearing a bright blue blazer and a matching skirt marched out from behind the teller area. Zack wondered if her office was situated behind the vault—each branch differed a little bit in their layout.
The woman’s heels clicked on the laminate flooring as she walked over to Zack. She held out a hand and smiled, bright red lipstick stained her front teeth. “Chelsea MacDonald, pleased to meet you.”
Zack shook her hand and beamed right back at her. “Great to meet you. I was just speaking with your tellers about the audit today. I had this branch, number…”
“We are branch zero-nine-five.”
Zack chuckled. “Right. I had zero-nine-five slated for foreign currency audit today at eleven. Were you aware?”
Chelsea frowned. “No. Your appearance is a surprise. Who are you?”
Zack laughed. “Right, sorry. I didn’t give you my name. I am Ryan Clements.” Again, he flashed his badge, “one of the head auditors for TNCB. I’m conducting foreign currency audits throughout the prairies as we work towards modernizing how we store and maintain foreign currencies that are outside of the usual suspects.”
Chelsea folded her arms across her chest. She spun and began to walk towards the half-door that separated the foyer from the employee area. “Come with me. You said your name was Ryan?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Zack said, scrambling to yank his carry-on suitcase and follow her.
Zack followed her behind the counter and into her office. He peered down the hallway. Which door was the door to the foreign currency room?
Chelsea stood behind her desk and leaned over her computer. She didn’t sit, but typed into her screen. Zack waited, feeling like he was a kid in trouble scheduled to talk to the principal at school.
“Mmmm. That’s weird,” Chelsea said.
Zack gulped. He shifted his weight and wondered what she was looking at. He pointed and tried to peek around her screen. “Did you check your spam folder? Sometimes these things end up there.”
Chelsea’s lips tightened into a thin line. Zack let out a nervous chuckle.
He waited.
Chelsea clicked the mouse and stood up. “Nothing in the spam folder. You are an employee at TNCB, yes?”
Zack’s heart thundered in his chest. “Yes…”
Chelsea shrugged. “The system does not flag internal emails to be spam. I don’t know what is going on here, but I’m thinking we need to reschedule the audit, at the very least.”
Zack shook his head. He had to convince her that he was Ryan. “I’m so sorry that this has happened. I’m only in town this morning, I’m scheduled to go to Winnipeg this afternoon.”
Chelsea raised her eyebrows. “Okay. Well, you say you worked at corporate headquarters, right?”
Zack drummed his fingers, trying to stay in character as the cocky Ryan Clements. He smiled. “I sure do. Been there for four years.”
The number was arbitrary. If he could have gone back in time, he would have said less. Two would have been a nice number to pick. Unassuming, two.
“Four years? Interesting. I worked at corporate headquarters four years ago. Moved out here three years ago to be closer to my family. I don’t remember you at all. If you are who you say you are, what is the name of the Vice-President of Compliance? She’s a good friend of mine.”
“Oh yeah?” Zack said. She said ‘she’ and Zack’s mind whirled. What was a common name for a middle-aged woman? Claudia? Shirley? There were just so many possibilities.
“If you get it right, I’ll know you are legit, and you can carry out your audit. If you’re wrong, you’ll be out of my fucking bank so fast and hopefully behind bars before you can say sorry.”
Zack nearly pissed his pants. Chelsea was intimidating. He looked behind him and made note of a clear exit, just in case he had to make a run for it.
“Uh, yeah. No problem.” Zack gulped. His heart was galloping and he rubbed sweaty palms on his pants. Was it Amber? Jessica seemed familiar. They had studied the top employees in Presidential and Vice-Presidential positions at True North, and Zack was pretty sure that he remembered Jessica being the Vice-President. Vice-President of something…
Was it an English sounding name? There were also a few names that were from different ethnicities, but Zack couldn’t remember.
“Her name was Jessica. I think,” Zack gambled.
Chelsea’s face went entirely white. She didn’t respond, she just pulled out her phone and tapped on it and put it to her ear. Zack could hear it ring in the silence. “Hey, Param? Yeah. You sitting down? I’ve got something to tell you.” Chelsea pulled the phone away and yelled out to her tellers. “Hey, Steven? Call the RCMP.”
Zack lurched, like he had just about stepped on a snake and rushed out of her office. Chelsea began talking to Param, who must have been the real Vice President of Compliance, all about the fake auditor who visited her branch. Zack didn’t stick around to hear her tell him to get lost.
The bank foyer began to blur as Zack jogged out of the bank. He was hyperventilating and his vision was starting to get spotty. He staggered to the car and threw the suitcase inside.
Sydney was munching on some French fries, her feet up on the dash. “How’d that go?”
Zack slammed the car door. “Bad. Ryan Clements is burned.”
Sydney nearly kicked her fries over as she sat up and turned the key. “Shit! Zack, what the hell?”
Zack shook his head and looked down at his hands. “She knew more about corporate than we did. Called me on it. We’re cooked, Syd.”
Sirens, in the distance.
Sydney heard them and stomped on the gas. “Okay. Fuck. Hold tight, Clyde.”