I step up to the ATM with Tommy's card in hand, Miguel and Ricky watching from the car. The First Bank of Miami machine glows with an eerie green light against the night sky. It's 11:47 PM according to my watch, and we're the only ones at this corner ATM.
"Let's see what you've got," I mutter, sliding the card into the slot.
The primitive screen flickers to life, requesting the PIN. I punch in 8791, feeling a rush of satisfaction as the machine accepts it. The balance appears: $9,847.
Perfect. Tommy wasn't lying.
I press the withdrawal button and confidently type in $5,000, already imagining the stack of bills that will emerge.
The machine thinks for a moment, then displays:
ERROR: MAXIMUM WITHDRAWAL $100
"What?" I stare at the screen in disbelief.
I try again, this time entering $500.
ERROR: MAXIMUM WITHDRAWAL $100
"Mierda. Welcome to the stone age," I mutter, punching the $100 option in frustration.
The machine whirs and spits out a measly five twenty-dollar bills. I grab them and walk back to the car, sliding into the backseat.
"What's wrong?" Miguel asks, noting my expression.
"Machine only allows $100 withdrawals at a time." I wave the small stack of bills. "This is all it would give me."
Miguel laughs. "What did you expect? It's not like you can just empty someone's account all at once."
"Actually, in the—" I catch myself. "I mean, I thought it would be more convenient."
"Nothing convenient about banking," Miguel says. "You can do ten transactions, then the machine locks you out for 24 hours."
Ricky turns in the passenger seat, grinning. "That's one down, nine to go."
I do the quick math. "Ten times one hundred is a thousand per ATM. We need five different locations to get the full five grand."
Miguel starts the car. "Welcome to your ATM marathon across Miami."
Back at the First National ATM downtown, I feed the card again.
Transaction 2: $100 (Balance: $9,647)
Transaction 3: $100 (Balance: $9,547)
Transaction 4: $100 (Balance: $9,447)
The process is mind-numbingly repetitive. Insert card, enter PIN, select withdrawal, choose $100, take cash, wait for card, repeat.
By transaction 5, Miguel is leaning against the car, smoking a cigarette. As I walk back with another $100, he takes a deep drag and looks at me with unusual intensity.
"Carlos, I need to tell you something..."
"Can it wait? I've got five more transactions to go."
He nods, flicking his cigarette away. "It'll keep. Finish up."
I continue the mechanical process, watching the balance drop by hundreds:
$9,347... $9,247... $9,147...
By the time I finish all ten transactions at the first ATM, it's past midnight. I've got $1,000 in my pocket, and we're driving to our second location.
The Miami Beach ATM on Ocean Drive is surrounded by late-night revelers. My bright pink suit draws stares as I stand at the machine, methodically working through the process again.
After five transactions, my fingers are cramping. Ricky bounces over from the car.
"My turn to play bank robber," he says with boyish enthusiasm, taking the card from me. "I've been watching. Looks easy enough."
I hand him the card. "Be my guest."
While Ricky handles transactions 6-10, I lean against a palm tree, counting our haul. Two thousand dollars so far. Not bad for a night's work, even with the limitations.
Miguel joins me, his face partially hidden in shadow. "You handle yourself well," he says quietly. "Most guys would have lost patience by now."
"Sometimes you just have to work with what you've got."
"Speaking of which..." Miguel glances around to ensure no one's in earshot. "That thing I wanted to tell you. It's about O'Malley."
"The corrupt cop?"
"He's putting pressure on me. Wants more information on Vargas's operation by next week."
I watch Ricky at the ATM, still happily punching buttons. "What kind of information?"
"Anything valuable. The kind of stuff that gets people killed."
Ricky returns with the final stack of twenties, grinning. "That's two grand total, amigos! Where to next?"
ATM on Miracle Mile sits in front of a closed bank. It's nearly 2 AM now, and the streets are empty except for occasional passing cars.
As I start the third round of withdrawals, Miguel continues his confession.
"O'Malley is getting impatient."
Transaction 1: $100 (Balance: $7,847)
"Why not just tell Vargas?" I ask, feeding the card back in.
Miguel laughs bitterly. "And admit I've been informing? He'd kill me himself."
Transaction 2: $100 (Balance: $7,747)
"So what's your plan?"
"That's just it. I don't have one." Miguel runs a hand through his hair. "I'm stuck between O'Malley and Vargas with no way out."
Transaction 3: $100 (Balance: $7,647)
I consider the situation while mechanically continuing the withdrawals. "What if we set them against each other?"
"How?"
"Feed O'Malley information that leads him into a trap. To trouble with Vargas or with the Colombians, or maybe even with the law."
Transaction 4: $100 (Balance: $7,547)
Miguel's eyes widen. "You want to get O'Malley caught in the middle of a gang war?"
"Something like that." I collect another stack of twenties. "But we'd need to be careful. Very careful."
Transaction 5: $100 (Balance: $7,447)
"It's risky," Miguel says, taking over the next few transactions. "But anything better than inaction."
As Miguel works the ATM, Ricky paces nearby, practicing quick-draws with his unloaded revolver.
"What's the holdup?" Ricky calls. "We still got two more ATMs after this one."
"Coming," Miguel replies, finishing the last transaction.
Our total now stands at $3,000, with two more ATMs to go. The night stretches ahead, full of repetitive transactions and the weight of Miguel's dangerous situation.
As we drive toward our fourth ATM location, I stare out the window at 1978 Miami, thinking about the limitations that turned a simple debt return into an all-night ordeal.
The Little Havana ATM is tucked beside a closed panadería. As I work through the familiar routine of card, PIN, withdrawal, I feel Miguel watching me intently.
Transaction 3: $100 (Balance: $6,547)
"I need you to buy a car by Friday," Miguel says suddenly.
I glance at him between transactions. "A car?"
Transaction 4: $100 (Balance: $6,447)
"Follow O'Malley. Might give us crucial information." Miguel leans against the wall beside the ATM. "Find something we can use to flip the table on this bastard."
Transaction 5: $100 (Balance: $6,347)
My mind races with possibilities. With my rewind ability, I could be the perfect surveillance operative.
Transaction 8: $100 (Balance: $6,047)
"What if he spots me?" I ask, pocketing another stack of twenties.
"He doesn't know about you. That's our advantage."
Transaction 10: $100 (Balance: $5,847)
I finish the fourth ATM cycle, counting our haul. Four thousand dollars. One more ATM to go.
The Westchester ATM sits in front of a closed supermarket, the parking lot empty except for our car. As I start the final round of withdrawals, I weigh the risks against the rewards.
Getting involved with a corrupt cop is dangerous. But Miguel greatly helped me.
Transaction 2: $100 (Balance: $5,347)
Transaction 3: $100 (Balance: $5,247)
"I'm in," I decide. "But we need a contingency plan if things go south."
"Already working on it."
Ricky bounces over, fully awake now. "Let me finish up, partners! My fingers are itching for some ATM action!"
I hand him the card and step back, watching as he enthusiastically punches buttons.
"Almost done, partners!" Ricky calls out, mimicking a TV cowboy as he feeds the card in for another transaction.
Miguel moves closer to me. "You sure about this, Carlos? Once we start moving against O'Malley, there's no turning back."
I think about the future I know is coming, like Miami drug wars, the violence that will engulf this city. Maybe this is why I'm here. Not just to survive, but to change things.
"I'm sure," I say, watching Ricky collect the final stack of twenties.
"Five thousand dollars, gentlemen!" Ricky announces, waving the cash triumphantly.
I take the money and the bank card, looking at Miguel. "Mission accomplished!"