Stone added, “And the fact is most stores here don’t close at noon on Saturdays.”
“Almost none of them,” said the teller. “I used to be in retail. Weekends are where the money is made and rent gets paid.”
The other teller said testily, “But what does that matter? They broke into the bank. They’re robbing us! Why are we wasting time talking about pop-outs and construction crap?”
“You’re right,” said Stone. “I was just curious. Just try to remain calm. I believe this will all be over soon.”
The young teller glared at him. “Right, with us dead or not?”
“Hopefully not,” replied Stone.
He and Robie moved away from the two women and sat together in a far corner.
Robie said, “So that’s where the tools come in. They cut into the shaft and they have a direct way up and into another floor without anyone being able to see them work.”
Stone nodded. “Perhaps all the way to the penthouse.”
“Quite the security flaw if that’s true.”
Stone said, “Well, I don’t suppose anyone thought someone would break into a bank in order to do so. But now we know why it was the bank. They could work unseen, as you said.” He glanced at Robie. “Very observant of you. Shane would be proud.”
“I wonder what your friends are doing?” asked Robie, ignoring this comment.
“Exactly what they need to be doing. I don’t think I can risk calling them again.”
“I wonder why they haven’t brought the bank manager back.”
“I doubt we will see him back.”
“Hostage for their escape?”
Stone said, “Possibly. Or some other type of insurance.”
“And when they go up the shaft?”
“They’ll have to leave someone here to guard us.”
“But the odds will be more in our favor, then. Fewer guns to deal with. There are only four of them total. Divide and conquer, right?”
“Yes.” He looked at Robie. “Are you up to it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean switching assignments midstream like that.”
“I’m up for it,” Robie said quietly. “Though I have no idea what assignment you’re referring to.”
“Good to hear. It will be soon, I think. Very soon.” Stone glanced at his watch.
“And their escape plan?”
“If they have one.”
“They don’t look like jihadists to me.”
“I never thought they were.”
“So they have to have an escape plan.”
“Yes, but it just might not look like one.”
“I’m not following.”
“And I’m not sure what I mean exactly,” admitted Stone. “Only I doubt they’re exiting the way they came in.”
“How do you want to work this, then?” asked Robie.
“I think we’ll know when the time is right. The question will be, do they leave one or two men behind?”
“Depending on how they’re going to attack the target they might need three, which just leaves one with us.”
“But they also might simply need one to attack the target.”
“I would assume the target would have some type of security. You can’t just go in solo on that.”
Stone looked at him, amused. “Surely that hasn’t been your experience? I would imagine you go in solo on every job you do. Just as I did.”
To this Robie said nothing.
“No,” continued Stone. “They might just send one. But if they do, the means of the attack will have to be overwhelming.”
“With one guy you’re not simply talking about a gun.”
“No.”
“You’re talking an explosive or something along those lines.”
“Yes, I absolutely am. You don’t do something as elaborate as this and execute with a whimper. Whatever or whoever their target is, it’s important enough to justify everything they’re doing.”
“So they’ll be willing to die for it,” said Robie.
“And we’ll have to be willing to match them on that,” replied Stone. “Otherwise, they probably win.”
CHAPTER 8
Harry and Reuben passed the bank, each giving it just a brief glance, and continued, turning down the corridor to the restrooms and service area adjacent to the bank.
They found an orange pylon with a CLOSED sign attached to it in a janitorial closet in the restroom and set it out by the door to the men’s room.
Harry knelt down next to the wall on the bank side of the restroom. He opened his duffel and took out a listening device. He attached it to the wall, inserting the other end in his right ear.
He listened for a few seconds and then glanced up at Reuben. “Sawing. And hammers. Hand tools it sounds like.”
“Don’t use those sorts of tools on a bank vault,” said Reuben.
“No, you don’t. I think Oliver’s theory is right. They’re using the bank to get to somewhere else in the building. Maybe the residences. You saw who’s there. The VP has to be the target.”
“I think so too. But we don’t know which residence it is. And until Annabelle checks back in we’re running blind. We need more information if we’re going to have a real shot at stopping this.”
“Maybe we should call in the FBI, Reuben. I mean, it is the VP after all. If this gets beyond us and we haven’t told anyone? They might throw us all in prison and forget we’re there.”
“They might. But though we’re few in number I’ll take the Camel Club over all the suits at Hoover. What about you?”
Harry slowly nodded. “Agreed.”
“Good. Now let’s beef up our intel so we can kick these suckers’ asses.”
Reuben called Caleb and told him where to meet. He clicked off. “Let’s go, Harry,” he said.
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
They met Caleb in front of the mall’s administrative office, which was now closed. It was also located down a service corridor. Admin offices generated no revenue and were thus relegated to the cheap, retail-unusable space in the mall.
Reuben eyed the door and the lock. “Looks to be alarmed,” he said.
Harry nodded and started searching in his bag while Caleb said, “Annabelle hasn’t called yet from the event.”
“She will, once she gets the lay of the land,” replied Reuben. “She’s the real deal. We all know that. Con the pope, that girl could.”
“Actually, she probably has,” added Caleb drily. “I’ve yet to meet the man who is impervious to her charms.”
Reuben eyed him critically. “Really? Would that include you, Caleb? If memory serves correctly, you spent quite a bit of time in a large van with our gal in a very isolated area where innumerable opportunities might exist to test your theory.”
Caleb sputtered, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not that sort.”
“What sort?”
“I’m a gentleman. I would never take advantage of a female professional colleague like that.”
Reuben chuckled. “As if you could. She’d kick your butt all the way to Jefferson’s library at Monticello.”
Caleb’s features swelled with indignation. “What do you need me up here for?” he asked. “I presume you have some plan that requires my participation.”
Reuben said, “You presume right. You have to cover our six. I need you to go to the end of the corridor. Anybody starts to come down this way you have to distract them and give us a heads-up. And then keep that up until we can make a clean getaway. Improvise when you have to.”
Caleb looked incredulous. “Really? Is that all? Do you want me to kung fu them too?”
“Do you know kung fu?” asked Reuben pointedly.
“Right now I wish I did!” Caleb spun on his heel and marched back down the hall.
Reuben’s amused gaze followed Caleb down the hall. But when he looked at Harry his features turned serious. “We don’t have much time.”
“I know,” said Harry.
“You can break in there, right?”
“If I can break into the Pentagon, Reuben, I think I can manage an office in the mall.”
* * *
Annabelle sipped a glass of wine and surveyed the room. There were about fifty people that she could see in the luxurious penthouse apartment. They were clearly all well-to-do and connected and many seemed to know one another. She followed Bob around a bit and listened in on some conversations, but then used a potty break excuse to go off on her own.
She was looking everywhere for Alex Ford but didn’t see him. The vice president must be in another room of the apartment. Maybe one had to pay for the privilege of being in such august company in addition to what they’d ponied up already. Plus, a photo op would probably set one back another five grand. Politics for the people, she thought.
She grabbed another glass of wine and continued her stroll. She nodded and smiled at people as she went, but her gaze kept roaming. The views out the windows were spectacular, but that was not the way they would be coming. The bank was down below. How they would get from there to here she didn’t know. But she assumed they had found a way. Otherwise why would they have invaded the bank at all?
She took out her cell phone and tried calling Alex, but he didn’t pick up. He wouldn’t, she assumed, while he was on duty. But if she could just find him and tell him what was going on…
“Hey, Annabelle!”
She turned to see Bob standing there with some people for her to meet. She smiled politely and turned to the group. But even her rock-hard nerves were starting to crumble a bit. She had to find Alex and warn him. And she could sense time was running out.
CHAPTER 9
Caleb paced nervously in front of the intersection of the main hallway and the corridor leading to the mall offices. He was hoping with all his might that no one would happen along this way. He figured his odds were good. There were no stores around here. It was just dead space in the mall on a Saturday afternoon.
He pulled his phone and texted Reuben. The message was brief.
Hurry up!
Just as he put the phone away, he looked up. His mouth became dry and he gave an involuntarily shudder.
It was a mall cop headed directly his way.
As the beefy man in the dark blue uniform with squeaky belt and shoes approached, Caleb attempted a smile.
“Hello,” he said as the man drew closer.
The man looked at him suspiciously. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Help?” said Caleb in a shaky voice. “No, I’m fine. Just…just waiting on some friends.”
“Up here?” The guard made a show of looking around at the empty space.
“Y-yes,” said Caleb, stammering slightly. “We, I mean they, don’t really know the area. I suggested meeting here, you know, just for—it gets crowded downstairs.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I don’t like crowds.”
The guard looked even more suspicious. It didn’t help when Caleb gave a nervous glance down the corridor leading to the mall offices.
“Can I see some ID?” asked the guard.
“ID?” asked Caleb shrilly.
“Yes, ID,” said the guard, drawing closer. His hand went up and rested on the butt of his holstered gun.
“Cer-certainly, Officer. Do I call you Officer?”
“Sir, the ID, please.”
“But I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Then you should have no problem showing me some ID. If it checks out we can all go on our way. How’s that sound?”
“But the Fourth Amendment guarantees protection against unreasonable searches and seizures,” said Caleb desperately.
“I’m neither searching nor seizing, sir, and you’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”
“I’m sorry, I truly am.” Caleb could see the cop was definitely suspicious now. He suddenly brightened. “I saw Paul Blart: Mall Cop with Kevin James,” Caleb said conversationally as he reached inside his jacket for his wallet. “Delightful movie. Very funny. Not an Oscar-caliber film, of course, but quite crowd-pleasing.”
The guard did not look pleased by this at all. “Blart was a moron. I’m not a moron. I served twenty-five years with the metro police.”
Caleb looked horrified. “No, of course not. I didn’t mean to suggest—”
His phone vibrated. As he drew out his wallet and handed his ID to the cop he glanced at the screen.
We’re done, coming out. Coast clear?
Caleb looked up at the cop, who was studying his ID, then quickly thumbed his response. One minute and then hit it.
“Sir,” said the cop. “I’d like you to come—”
Before he could finish, Caleb started holding his chest and gasping for breath.
“I-I-I think I’m having a pa-pa-panic attack. Ca-can’t ca—catch my breath.”
He started to collapse. The cop caught him and supported him. “Just hold on, sir. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
Caleb pointed to the elevator bank. “Fr-fresh air. Need—outside…quick.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m going to call an ambulance too.”
Caleb drew a painful, shuddering breath. “Out-out…side. Hurry.”
The guard helped Caleb to the elevator and inside. The doors closed behind them and the car started down.
Five seconds later Harry and Reuben appeared in the main hall. Under Harry’s arm was a set of building plans.
“Where’s Caleb?” asked Harry.
“Probably gone off to a bookstore,” grumbled Reuben. “If there’re any left in this place. Come on, we’re running out of time.”
* * *
The door to the interior room opened and Adam Chase stood there, gun in hand. “We are just about done here,” he said. “And then all of you get to go on with your lives. Unless you give us problems.” He looked at Stone and Robie when he said this.
“No problems,” said Stone.
Another man appeared next to Chase. He held a machine pistol in his right hand. His face was, like Chase’s, covered with a ski mask.
Chase looked at him and then indicated Stone and Robie.
“Watch them closely,” said Chase, and the other man nodded. “Any problems at all, just take them out.”
Chase left and the other man put his back against the door, his gaze scanning the room.
* * *
In the bank lobby there was a hole in the drywall at the location of the pop-out. The studs had been sawn apart and some concrete blocks broken through, creating an opening large enough for a man to get past.
Chase and his three associates had clambered through the hole and were now staring up the exposed shaft that was framed in by steel beams for the once proposed elevator bank.
It was dark, of course, which was why they had night optics. They slipped the lenses down over their faces and powered them up.
Chase hefted a backpack over his shoulders. His colleagues did the same. They strung sturdy nylon climbing ropes around their waists and then coupled them using D-links. Then they each picked a section of wall, gripped one of the steel beams, and started to climb. The beams were close enough together that they made good progress. On the lower floors the shaft was formed by concrete blocks, but on the upper floors it was only drywall and studs. Each of them moved expertly, gaining a firm purchase with hands and feet on the beams before hoisting themselves higher. At this pace they would be at their destination very soon.
* * *
Harry and Reuben were back in the men’s room, the blueprints for the mall and the bank branch laid out on the floor. Harry had quickly studied them and then pointed out the optimal egress. He made his living breaking into places far more secure than even a bank. He pointed to a section of wall next to the row of sinks.
“I think there is the best spot. We have to assume they’ll have the hostages in the interior room there.” He pointed to that area on the blueprints. “Right behind this wall is the bath
room in the bank. They did it that way so they could use the same plumbing from this restroom. Saves time and money.”
“Right,” said Reuben, studying the plans. “But there’ll be sentries, Harry. We have to account for that.”
“I know. That’s why I brought this.” He pulled from his knapsack what looked like a handheld wand that TSA personnel would use at airport security, except that it had a small screen on the handle. “Thermal imager,” he explained.
He moved it up and down in front of the wall and then checked the readout screen.
“It’s clear right now.”
“Well, let’s hope nobody with a gun has to take a pee in the next few minutes,” said Reuben.
Harry drew out a saw from his duffel and began, as quietly as possible, to cut through the drywall.
CHAPTER 10
Stone studied the guard in the ski mask, and the man looked back at Stone.
Finally, the man said, “You got a problem?”
Stone said, “How did you draw the short straw? Are you the junior guy on the team?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Short straw?”
The other hostages looked on nervously as Stone leaned back against the wall with Robie tethered to him.
“Short straw. Surely you understand the concept. They left you here. They left you behind.”
“Important job,” countered the man. “Guarding all of you.”
“Not really. Better to have killed us, drugged us, or tied us up so well we couldn’t escape. Why waste someone? You’re a small team. Why divide your manpower that way?”
“Why don’t you shut up, old man?”
“You should have at least asked for backup,” said Robie.
The man snorted. “Backup? I’ve got an auto pistol. All of you are tied together. You take a step toward me, you’re dead. Why do I need backup?”
“For unforeseen things,” said Stone. “But apparently your mission leader didn’t care about that. About you, I mean. Expendable.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Bullseye: Willl Robie / Camel Club Short Story Page 4
