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Overanalyzing Anime
Blog Owner & Lead Writer
Dexter was starting to get impatient as he sat outside the National Bank waiting in the car. His men were supposed to have been out two minutes ago, and every minute – no, second – mattered when attempting to pull off a heist of this magnitude.
Especially in this city.
Dexter wasn’t all that worried, though. He had made sure to account for any fuck ups that might occur and, for the moment, they were still within his parameters.. but they were definitely pushing it. He gave them four additional minutes and at this point they had already blown through half of that. Four minutes from now the police would show up and they will have needed to be long gone. Well, regardless of whether or not they came out in the next two – now, one minute, thirty four seconds – he would be long gone.
No point in them all getting caught, right?
But he wouldn’t have to leave them behind because he knew they’d get here. Yeah, they may be running later than he was comfortable with, but that was a part of the job. This wasn’t something simple like a home invasion or robbing a local gas station – his men were currently infiltrating a national bank and stealing close to a twenty million dollars. This had required weeks of planning and calculating, and even then, there were bound to be unforeseen variables that would change the game.
The first obstacle came in the form of the Security Guard, Chuck. Dexter had spent several days over the last few weeks visiting this bank and chit chatting with Chuck about all manner of things. Dexter knew how old he was, where he proposed to his wife, how his son moved to Star City after he’d gotten out of the military, how his Rottweiler was sick, and how he had prided himself on his perfect attendance for the last fifteen years.
Dexter had taken special note of that last part.
However, for whatever reason, when Dexter and his crew pulled up to the bank, Dexter noticed that Chuck – the over the hill, pot-bellied security guard – had been replaced by some twenty something hulking dude who looked like he was itching to be a hero.
It’s shit like that that really pissed Dexter off. Chuck wouldn’t have put up a fight, but if the gunshot Dexter had heard three minutes ago was any indication, “Mr. Hero” might not have been so compliant.
It didn’t matter, though. What’s one dead security officer versus twenty million dollars?
Dexter heard shouting to his right as his three accomplice - H, O, and K - came sprinting out of the bank. Dexter didn’t know their real names, nor did he need to. He just needed to know that they could properly execute their mission, and as he peered at his watch, taking note of the time again, he wondered if he had made a mistake.
None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that they got in the car within the next thirty seconds; with only twenty meters separating Dexter’s car from the bank, he figured that should be more than enough time. And it would have been, as long as they made a straight line for the car.
But H apparently had other plans in mind. Dexter watched as his accomplice pivoted, turning to face the bank once again as the others continued their dash towards the car. He aimed his gun at the door and let loose a barrage of bullets that eviscerated the glass doors, causing shards of glass to rain onto the ground.
Dexter wondered if they had been followed – if there was, perhaps, extra security that they hadn’t accounted for. But that didn’t make any sense. Dexter and O had done their homework – extensively. There was absolutely no way there was any extra security that they didn’t already know about. So, why fire the bullets?
Ten seconds later, once H had emptied his clip, Dexter could have sworn that he heard laughing followed by a, “that ‘oughta teach you not to mess with us!”
By this point O had jumped in the passenger seat of the car and K was diving in the back, sliding over so that he sat in the seat directly behind Dexter.
“What the hell is he doing?” O said, his voice muffled by the mask covering his face.
“Being a fucking idiot,” K chimed in, “first he shoots the damn guard and now he wants to just let loose on the whole damn bank? Pinche pendejo.”
Another ten seconds passed and H was now on route to the car. Dexter released the emergency break, but kept his foot on the break. He wanted to leave, but H had thirty three percent of the money on his back and, barring any more acts of stupidity, he was going to make it.
And he did. With an entire three seconds to spare.
Dexter watched as the top of his body entered the car; he then released the brake and slammed on the gas. The car roared to life and the door shut behind H as he landed in K’s lap.
“Well shit!” H yelled.
“Get off me idiota!” K hollered as he pushed H off of him.
“What the fuck were you thinking back there, man?” O said as he removed his mask, revealing his bearded face. His dark, black skin was covered in sweat.
“What d’ya mean?” H replied as he removed his own, revealing a vexatious grin, “I was seein’ to it that we weren’t followed n’ such.”
“You were being a damn fool!”
“Quit yer bitchin, bro,” H replied, making sure he emphasized the last word in a way that served to mock O.
“You wasted time, pendejo,” K said, his mask now off. He took the palm of his hand and wiped the sweat from his forehead and pushed his black hair from his face, “you knew how important it was that we give D time and you went and wasted it on, what? Scaring some women and children?”
“Not to mention you killed that fucking guard,” O added.
H scoffed, “That guard was tryin’ to be a hero. There’s no hero’s in this damn city.”
“No, but there’s a fucking vigilante.” K said.
That shut everyone up. Finally.
Dexter made it a habit of not opening his mouth while driving. He found that engaging in meaningless conversations – such as who held who up and who got killed – only served as distractions. He would be sure to give them all a piece of my mind – especially H – once they had arrived at the safe house. But now? Now he needed to focus.
It was only a matter of time before he showed up.
He was the reason Dexter had agreed to this final heist in the first place. Dexter had done more than enough jobs at this point that he could purchase an island and live out the rest of his life in uninterrupted bliss. No, he was doing this because he wanted to tell people that he came to this city and stole twenty million dollars. No one would ever believe him, but that wouldn’t stop him from spending the rest of his life telling everyone this story.
The sound of sirens behind them made O shout, “shit, they’re gaining on us!”
But in actuality, they weren’t. They had simply rounded the corner and ended up on their tail. Dexter had taken notice of them when they drove through that intersection, but he wasn’t worried. They might be on their tail for a moment, but with Dexter wielding the full power of his Dodge Charger – which he had painstakingly equipped with a retrofitted supercharged 6.2 liter V8 engine – they didn’t stand a chance of keeping up.
“Well I’m sure a few bullets’ll slow ‘em down,” H said as he loaded up his FN F2000 assault rifle – ready to let loose another volley of bullets.
“No, pendejo,” K said pushing H’s gun back down, “those hunks a’ junk wished they could keep up with this bad boy. Just let D do his thing.”
Dexter bobbed and weaved through the evening traffic, which was lighter than usual given the upcoming holiday weekend. Most of the cities denizens had packed it up – heading to Central City and Coast City in an effort to relax for a change. No one ever came to thiscity for the holidays.
“Are we sure that he’s not gonna show up?” O asked, his deep voice full of worry.
“Don’t be such a pussy, bro,” H emphasized again, “its too early for him to pop up. They can’t even shine that whatchacallit yet.”
“That’s not the only way to get a hold of him, dumbass.” O retorted.
“Maybe we just focus less on him and more on trying to get the hell out of dodge before any of it matters.” K chimed in.
Dexter liked that idea. He would have liked it even more if they had shut the hell up.
A few lights ahead of him, Dexter saw two police cruisers racing towards him – more than ready to ram into his beautiful, crimson charger. As if he’d let them lay a scratch on Big Red. He took a millisecond to scan the intersection – he was approaching Lantern Drive. It would add about thirty seconds to his timing, but it would be worth it. There was one car approaching the intersection, but by the look of the driver – a middle aged woman who was scanning the intersection, both her hands on the steering wheel – he assumed she would be smart enough – but more importantly, attentive enough – to slam on the break as he drove through.
While driving had a lot to do with skill, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that, at times, luck was just as crucial.
Dexter dashed into the intersection and could hear his accomplices shouting out all manner of fearful profanities – he tuned it out. He slung the car around the corner and, much to his delight, the woman slammed on her brakes, allowing him to continue down Lantern Drive towards their destination.
“That was fucking nuts, man!” K yelled, his reaction something between terrified and exhilarated, “I can’t believe she didn’t hit us!”
“Don’t get us fuggin’ killed, D!” H hollered.
Dexter fought back the urge to tell him to go fuck himself and instead chose to focus on the road, and the ever setting sun.
It would take them approximately ten more minutes to get to their safehouse and, by then, the sun will have almost completely set. Even now the street lights had begun to emit a dull glow as Dexter passed them by.
Dexter figured that, by now, hewould have shown up. He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt a tinge of disappointment that he wouldn’t get the opportunity to test his mettle against the self-appointed protector of the city. The police of this city were an absolute joke. He had, seemingly, lost them at this point; there wasn’t a red or blue light in sight.
Not a single one..
“Something isn’t right,” K said, as if having red Dexter’s mind.
Something wasn’t right. Dexter was good, but he wasn’t so good that he should have out run the cops just yet. This wasn’t Dexter and his crew escaping so much as it was the police giving up.
“This is it,” O chimed in, “This has got to be it. Oh shit, oh shit. He’s coming.”
H scoffed, “He’s not fuggin’ coming. Bet that asshole is out somewhere on vacation like the rest of this damn city. Even ol’ whatshisface has gotta take a day off every now and then.”
Dexter was annoyed with how fundamentally idiotic H sounded. If it wouldn’t have distracted him from driving he’d have happily put a bullet through his head right then and there. But that would have to wait until after all of this was over. For now, Dexter needed to focus. Hewas out there somewhere. It was only a matter of time before he showed his face.
“Where are you?” Dexter murmured to himself as he sped down the road, which was growing ever darker with each passing second. The sky above them was a perfect miscellany of colors, with the darker ones slowly overpowering what little light remained.
Only four minutes from the hideout.
Three.
Two.
Still no sign of him.
Dexter felt worried, but he convinced himself that it was just nerves. If he was really going to show up, he would have done it already. They had been driving around the city for over fifteen minutes. Hisresponse time was faster than that – even if the sun was still out. Hemay be known as the creature of the night, but Dexter had still imagined he would have shown up.
It was a shame, really.
A shame that, as Dexter rounded the corner, now only approximately sixty seconds away from their hideout; now completely sure that tonight would not be the night he would face off against the so-called “Dark Knight” of this city; now ready to spend the rest of his life relaxing in a city for nicer than Gotham, that he appeared.
Dexter, for the first time since they left the bank slammed on his brakes and came to a complete stop.
It was him.
It was really him.
It was..
“Batman!” O shouted, “it’s the fucking Batman!”
To be continued.
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