"Are you sure he'll come?"
Mick Rory stood at the entrance to Trust Bank, the night wind tossing his hair into a mess. He paid it no mind, his gaze fixed on the brightly lit city street outside.
"More or less... as long as the alarm goes off."
Leonard Snart stood inside beside the revolving door, adjusting the settings on something that looked like a radar speed gun.
"Based on past experience, that bright red guy responds fastest to bank robberies. About five seconds."
"Five seconds?" Mick repeated. "From the alarm going off to him arriving?"
"From the alarm going off to him smashing through the glass, striking that pose he thinks looks cool but is actually idiotic, and finishing those lines he thinks sound slick but just make him look like a show-off."
Leonard corrected him, then aimed the speed gun at the entrance. "So what we need to do is simple..."
He beckoned to Mick. "Get in here. Once the alarm goes off, we..."
"Fuck." Mick trudged back into the bank, swearing. "I think you're fucking sick."
"I am sick," Leonard admitted without concern. "It's called curiosity. I want to see how that idiot reacts in a minute."
He walked to the counter, kicked aside two guards tied up together, and pressed the alarm button himself.
As the shrill alarm tore through the night, the air at the end of the street began to distort.
A streak of red lightning flashed across the city's skyline, moving so fast that the naked eye could barely catch even a blurred afterimage. He zigzagged between high-rises, leaving a brief trail of light at every turn, as though someone had scrawled a sloppy "Z" across the night sky with a fluorescent marker.
"He's here!"
Lisa shouted through their earpieces from her elevated