“How much cash?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Whatever you think you’ll need to start a new life in another country. Maybe a couple of hundred thousand for each of us. Maybe a lot more.”
Ray cocked his head. “You think we can really get that much in a single robbery?”
“Probably not,” said Ben. He reached for the salt. “The most I’ve ever taken away in one of these is about two hundred thousand. Only half of that was mine. We might have to pull off a few jobs. But the one I have in mind looks promising. They could have up to a half-million, maybe more.”
“You guys planning on getting rid of the moving truck tonight?” Karen asked.
“Yeah,” said Ben. “We have to move it off the property. I imagine every cop on the West Coast is looking for it by now.”
It was almost midnight. Ray Morris sat behind the wheel of the moving truck, peering up ahead up as he drove the vehicle down the dark road leading back to the main highway. Nervous sweat ran down his forehead and dripped from his armpits. Since he had left the ranch, he had expected to see a police car coming from the other direction any moment, a cruiser that would certainly flip a quick u-turn and begin pursuit. So far, he had seen nothing. He glanced into the rear-view mirror again and saw Ben was still following in his Ford van about a hundred feet back.
Ray stopped at the crossroad to the main highway and looked both ways. No one was in sight. He turned right and drove north for a short distance, and then pulled over to the side of the road, shutting down the motor and lights. He slid quickly across the bench seat and jumped out on the passenger side.
Ben was already stopped and had thrown open the passenger door on the van. Morris sprinted for it and hopped in, slamming the door shut.
“Hang on,” said Ben. He floored the accelerator and whipped the van around hard, tires squealing. They headed back for the turnoff road to the ranch.
“That was easy enough,” said Ray. He buckled his seat belt.
“No problem. When the cops find that truck, maybe they’ll think you headed back up north.”
“You think so?”
Ben laughed. “I don’t know, man. I just said that to make you feel better.”
“Well, it’s not funny and I don’t feel any better.”
They reached the turnoff road and slowed for the turn. Ben flipped the turn signal switch and waited for a car to pass that was coming from the opposite direction. As it approached, both men saw it was a California Highway Patrol cruiser.
“Get down!” Ben said.
Ray unsnapped his seat belt and leaned over as the police car zipped past.
Ben made the turn and pulled away. As he did, he saw the patrol car pulling over to the side of the road behind the moving truck. “Ah, shit,” he said.
“What?”
“He pulled off to check the moving truck. Okay, there’s a built-in storage box in the back of this thing. You’d better get inside it. He might come after us.”
Ray went to the back of the van and lifted up the wooden cover of the storage box. He climbed inside, but sat upright and held the cover open. “Hope you don’t mind if I keep this coffin open unless he comes back.”
“Sure, Ray. Just relax. We’ll be back at the ranch in fifteen minutes.”
“Do me a favor,” said Ray. “Don’t tell me to relax.”
“Sorry,” said Ben. “I know you must be...ah, crap...that cop, he’s...”
“I see it,” said Ray. “He’s coming after us.”
Blue flashing lights suddenly lit up the interior of the van. “Damn,” said Ben, “that was quick. He must have seen the dust we left when we did that u-turn on the shoulder.”
“Fuck!”
“Get down in there and be quiet,” said Ben. “I’ll handle this.”
Ray did as he was told, scrunching himself down into the storage box and pulling the lid closed. In the darkness, he could feel the van slowing down and pulling over to the side of the road. He perked up his ears and tried to listen. He heard the crunch of gravel under the tires, and then it was silent as Ben shut off the engine.
Ray strained harder to listen. His hand drifted to the Beretta stuck in his belt. A moment later, he moved his hand away from the gun and tried to slow his breathing. His heart banged in his chest like a jackhammer.
He heard voices. One was Ben’s, the other, a deeper one, was the cop’s voice.
Bang!
The van started up and pulled away from the shoulder with the tires squealing. Ray was thrown against the side of the box. He pushed up the lid. “What the fuck, man? What’s going on?”
Ben had both hands on the wheel, but in one of them, he held a large automatic. “Get up here!” he yelled.
Ray crawled from the box and leaped into his seat. They were speeding up the road, already going almost seventy miles an hour. “Did you just shoot that cop?” he shouted. “What the fuck are you doing, man?”
Ben was grim. He stared straight ahead. “Yeah, I shot him, Ray. Right in the fucking face with this forty-five. He’s dead as a doornail, I’ll guarantee you that.”
“Why the hell did you have to shoot him?” Ray shouted. He snapped on his seat belt. “I thought you said you could handle it!”
“I did handle it. Why do you think he came after us, Ray? He saw all that dust settling around the truck from when we flipped our u-turn. He knew right away we were the ones who dumped it there on the side of the road. So I had to shoot him.”
“Well, we’ve had it now,” said Ray. “When the cops pull you over, they always read off your license plate to the dispatcher before they even get out of their car. When they find his body, they’re going to know who you are and right where to find you when they run your plate. That was fucking stupid!”
Ben looked over and shook his head. “They won’t find out shit, Ray. I stole this van from a parking lot in Eureka a few days ago. I was planning to use it on my next bank job. Just means I can’t use it anymore. And we’ll have to dump it somewhere and make sure we get rid of any fingerprints. So we burn it.”
Ray said nothing. He suddenly realized that throwing in with his former sergeant was no longer a choice. That choice had been forced upon him now, and whatever road he was on would be the road he would travel no matter where it led.
Ben pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the ranch house. Tucking his gun under his belt, he slapped Ray on the shoulder. “Come on. We have to dump this van. I’ll take my truck and you follow me in the van. I know a place up in the woods where we can set it on fire and leave it.”
Ray ignored him. “You’re fucking crazy,” he said.
Ben grabbed Ray by his coat and shook him. “You want to get caught? We don’t have a lot of time here before the cops start crawling the roads. Slide over here and I’ll go get the truck!” He left the keys in the ignition and climbed out of the van, slamming the door.
Ray watched indifferently as Ben walked over to a newer Ford pickup truck and got inside. The engine fired up, and at that moment, Karen walked out onto the front porch.
“What’s going on?” she said loudly. “You guys leaving again?”
Ray jumped out of the van. “That fucking idiot just killed a state patrolman!”
“What?”
He thrust a finger at the Ford truck. “Ben just shot some cop in the face. Left him dead right in the middle of the fucking road!” He pulled out his Beretta and strode up to the driver’s side of the Ford pickup. “Get the hell out!” he shouted, pointing the pistol. “And leave that goddamn gun on the dash or I’ll blow your head off!”
“Ray!” Karen shouted. “What are you doing?”
“Shut up, Karen!”
Ben laid his gun on top of the dashboard and hopped out of the truck. He put his hands on his hips. “So what do you want to do now, Ray? You want to shoot me? Go ahead. I don’t give a fuck.”
“I ought to,” said Ray, his voice shaking.
Karen ran up and forced herself bet
ween the two men. “What the hell is going on with you two?” She looked at Ben. “Did you really kill a cop?”
“I had to,” he said. “There wasn’t any choice.”
Karen’s mouth dropped open. She turned to Ray, and then reached up and pushed his gun hand down. “Put that away! What the hell happened?”
“We got pulled over,” said Ray. “He made me hide in the back of the van and then when this cop walks up to the door, he blows him away just like that.”
“He was onto us, Ray. I saw him pulling his gun the second he got out of his fucking car!”
“Did you have to kill him in cold blood like that?”
“Maybe you think I should have tried to take him prisoner like you did with that state cop? Or tried to take away his gun? It would have been the same ending, either him or us!” Ben stepped closer. “You want to go to prison for the rest of your life, Ray? Maybe Karen, too? Fine. Go turn yourself in then. Otherwise, quit whining and let’s get rid of that van before the cops come sniffing around.” He reached over and snatched the Beretta from Ray’s hand. He flicked the safety on and handed it back. “By morning, the cops will be doing house-to-house stops at every place along this road. That van should not be here when they do. We have to ditch it. Now.”
Ray Morris stuck the Beretta back into his waistband. “Let’s go, then. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I still think you didn’t have to shoot him like that. You’re a fucking maniac.” He pushed his way past Ben and got into the van.
A thought crossed his mind. What the hell have I gotten us into?
As she watched the two men drive away in their separate vehicles, Karen realized that the life she and Ray had known was gone forever. It would never be the same again. She sat down on the porch with fear as cold as ice running through her veins.
Chapter 4
It was early morning when two police cars pulled into the driveway at the ranch house. Four grim-faced officers walked up to the porch with their hands resting on their gun holsters. One knocked firmly at the door.
Ben Cummings went to the door and opened it. “Hello, officers. What can I do for you?”
A tall, beefy cop gave him the once-over. “Good morning, sir. May I ask your name, please?”
“Ben Cummings. What’s this all about?”
“Do you have some identification?”
He took out his wallet and held it out to the cop.
“Take your identification out for me please.”
He slipped out his drivers’ license and gave it to the cop. “What’s this about?”
“I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind. I’m Sergeant David Ackerman from the California Highway Patrol. Did you see or hear anything unusual last night?”
“No, officer. Is there something wrong?”
“A police officer was shot last night.” He pointed back to the main road. “It happened about seven miles west of here, near Highway 101.”
“Jesus,” said Ben. “Is he going to be all right?”
“He’s dead. Are you sure you didn’t see or hear anything? Maybe a car racing past here around midnight, anything at all?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you mind if we take a look around?”
Ben opened the door wider and stepped aside. “No, of course not.” At the same time, he mentally gauged his chances of taking out all four cops with the BAR leaning against the wall just inside the kitchen. Not bad odds, he thought, but it will leave one hell of a mess.
Just then, a call squawked out from the radio on the cop’s belt. “One Mary sixteen,” a female voice said, “suspect vehicle located on Forest Service road 2026. Sixteen miles east of Highway 101. CHP units are in route. Forest Service personnel are on site and investigating.”
“Oh, shit!” said the cop. He turned to the others. “Let’s get up there. That’s got to be it.” He looked at Ben Cummings. “We’ll be in touch if we need to talk to you.” He touched his hat. “Thanks for your cooperation.”
“No problem, officer,” said Ben. As the cops ran back to their cars, he called out after them, “I hope you catch the guy!”
One of them waved back at him and the two police cars threw dust tearing their way down the driveway and back to the main road.
Ben closed the door. “You can come out now!” he yelled.
Ray and Karen emerged cautiously from the back bedroom. Ray was holding his Beretta at his side. “I think it’s time we found ourselves another place to stay,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Ben, “but not quite yet. Not until we hit that bank in Eureka, come this Friday. I don’t think those cops will be back. But we’re in the shit now, that’s for sure. Are you two in or out?”
“We’ve talked about it,” said Ray. “We’re with you. But we still don’t like what you did to that cop out there on the road.”
Ben threw up his hands. “You think I enjoyed doing that? Stop blaming me! It’s your goddamn fault I had to shoot him!”
“Why is it my fault?”
“Because that moving truck was yours. And you came here in it. And it was the hottest vehicle in three states, that’s why. That cop had the whole thing figured out from the second he hit his lights. It was bad luck for him that he came along just as we were leaving. If he had come past a minute later, he never would have seen us and I wouldn’t have had to shoot him.”
Ray stared at the floor. “I know that. I just don’t like the idea of killing cops, that’s all. We’re fucked now. You know that, right?”
“Stop whining. They haven’t caught us yet. I did what I had to do to save our asses. Now we have to make our move and try to get out of the country. And soon. And since I had to kill that cop, this makes it even tougher because every other cop on the West Coast will be out in force looking for us.” Ben paused, and then spoke in a softer tone. “So what do you guys want to do? Are you in or out on this whole deal? I mean for real.”
“We’re in,” said Karen.
“Yeah, we’re in,” said Ray. “If we had any other choice, I’d take it. But that’s all gone now.”
“Okay. Let’s get to work, then. You ever shoot a gun before, Karen?”
“Sure,” she said. “I used to have a twenty-two pistol I took to a gun range up in Portland. Ray and I went there a lot.”
“Good. I have a different weapon in mind for you. Something lightweight, but with more stopping power than a twenty-two. Let’s all go out to the barn.”
“As long as you don’t expect me to shoot anyone, of course,” she added.
Ben said nothing and headed for the door. This would be easier without a woman along, he thought. She’s definitely the weak link.
Up in the special loft, Ben threw open one of the closet doors with the weapons and began dropping them onto a nearby table, where they thudded heavily and lay still. “Okay. Everyone needs to carry at least two pistols from now on and pack extra magazines for both of them.” He handed Karen a small pistol in an equally small black holster. “This is your backup,” he said. “It’s a .380 Smith and Wesson automatic.” He took it out and pulled back the slide. “You cock it like this. Here’s the safety...see it?”
Karen hefted the gun in her hand. “Not that heavy,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s not too bad.” He took out a Velcro band from his pocket. “This goes through the slot on the back of the holster. You secure it around your ankle. Go ahead and try it.”
As she pulled up her jeans to fasten the holster, Ben picked up a large stainless steel automatic and laid it in Morris’ hand. “I’m sure you’ve seen one of these before,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Ray, examining it briefly.
“It’s an oldie but a goodie. That Beretta 9 you’re packing right now holds a lot of rounds, and this Smith and Wesson only holds eight, but this one will knock down anything that moves at twenty-five yards or less. It’s a Model 4506 with night sights and special grips.” He took out a leather shoulder holster from the closet and threw it to R
ay. “You’ve got a leather case on one side that holds two extra magazines. I already put the magazines in there for you. It’s a solid crossover rig. I want to you start wearing this every minute you’re awake. You can stash that Beretta in your waistband.”
Ray slipped the crossover rig over his shoulders as if he was putting on a jacket and fastened it in place. Ben tossed him a box of pistol shells and he began loading both the gun and the two extra magazines. When he was finished, he tucked the heavy pistol into the holster under his armpit and fastened the snap.
“How’s it feel?” asked Ben.
“Good,” said Ray.
“Put a coat on and no one will even know you’re packing it,” said Ben. “And I want you to carry a third gun, too. I know it’s a bit of a load packing three, but you’ll get used to it.” He searched around inside the gun cabinet until he found a small pistol. “Since you like Berettas, how about this one?”
Ray examined the tiny automatic, which was smaller than his hand. “This is nice,” he said. “What is it?”
“Beretta PX-4 subcompact, nine millimeter. Believe it or not, that little jewel holds thirteen rounds.”
“No way.”
“Pop the mag and see for yourself.”
Ray pushed the release and dropped the magazine into his hand. He took a quick look and then snapped the magazine back into the gun. “Impressive,” he said.
“It’s a short-range thing of beauty,” said Ben. He went over to another closet against the far wall of the loft and threw it open. “Now it’s time to familiarize you with the real stuff,” he said.
He handed Karen a small MP-5 submachine gun. “This one’s been used by security forces at Heathrow Airport in London,” he said. “Be careful. Once you pull the trigger, it empties out thirty rounds in less than three seconds. Hardly any kick to it at all. Just point it at the target and spray. You see this switch on the side?”
“Yes.” She weighed it in her hands. “It’s not that heavy.”
“It’s empty right now. Weighs about nine pounds fully loaded,” said Ben. “Three settings on the switch. Automatic, single-shot, and safety. ‘S’ is safe. ‘E’ is single-shot. ‘F’ is fully automatic. Keep the switch on safety unless you’re ready to pull the trigger.”
Revenge Story Page 5
