The Heist

by Shaun Jeffrey

  “I’m going to check on Frank. Wait here.” He glanced at Caleb, then at Emma, hoping his expression was enough to communicate that she should keep Caleb away.

  The rain pummelled him as he jogged across to where Frank had fallen. When he reached his side, he crouched down and checked for a pulse. “Frank, Frank.”

  There was no reply and although Kurt’s fingers were cold, he did feel a pulse. Knowing he couldn’t do anything to help him other than calling an ambulance, he stood up and ran back to his family.

  “He’s alive.”

  “Well we can’t leave him out here.”

  “We can’t do anything for him and you two are my first priority. All we can do is get somewhere with a signal, and call an ambulance.”

  Emma pursed her lips, gazed across at Frank and nodded. “So which way do we go now?”

  Kurt pulled out the phone and consulted the GPS. Then he pointed across the field. “That way.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Although dampened by the trees, Conner heard a gunshot. He stopped and listened, but when he didn’t hear anything further, he ran in the direction he thought the shot had originated from.

  Presumably Williams had found their quarry.

  Everything seemed to be going wrong, and Conner couldn’t help but blame Armstrong for devising this stupid treasure hunt to find the money. They weren’t kids, and they certainly weren’t fools, but he treated them like both.

  Well, wherever the bastard was, he hoped Armstrong enjoyed the show.

  The uneven ground and natural obstacles slowed his pace, so he hoped he was going in the right direction. Sounds could be deceiving at the best of times.

  The trees up ahead thinned out, and despite the grey skies, more daylight filtered through. Even from a distance Conner observed a body lying on the ground. He slowed his pace, breathing heavily, his gun held out before him.

  “Williams, that you?”

  When nobody answered, he stepped closer, saw blood splattered across the foliage and at least three stab marks in Williams’ chest.

  “Jesus.” Conner crouched down, and although he didn’t expect to find one, he checked for a pulse in Williams’ neck. The man’s pale skin already felt cool and his mouth hung open. Conner searched the body but found both his gun and phone missing.

  “Shit.” Conner stood up straight and looked around. It had been bad enough tracking Vaughn when he was unarmed, but now he had a knife and a gun. Figuring his quarry might be targeting him as he deliberated, Conner dropped back into the trees and consulted the GPS. Although the signal from the satellites became erratic underneath the trees, he picked enough up to place the car park about half an hour away. If Vaughn was as predictable as he hoped, then he and his family would be headed that direction. The shot occurred about five minutes ago, so they couldn’t have much of a head start. He followed in their wake.

  He kept his ears and eyes alert as he crossed the field, but there was no sign of Vaughn. And despite the phone picking up satellites for the GPS, he still didn’t have a signal for making or receiving calls.

  Conner clenched his teeth. He suspected the situation was going to get worse before it got better. A lot worse.

  CHAPTER 19

  Armstrong traversed a path across a rocky hillock that gave him a good view of the landscape. He spotted Vaughn and his family, unmistakable by their bright waterproof coats, as they cut across a field. Behind them he spied Conner. From his position, Conner probably couldn’t see the family, separated from them by a hedge and numerous bushes. The wind teased the leaves of the wood which stretched behind them like a vast green sea.

  The sound of voices caught his attention so he stopped and stepped off the path, melting into the foliage a few feet back. He held his breath, watching and waiting while two people walked by. He wasn’t too concerned as he knew his Ghillie suit would hide him.

  Dressed in raincoats, and with rucksacks strapped to their backs, the man and woman were recognisable as hikers. Unfortunately, they were heading in the same direction as Armstrong. He sighed to himself.

  If Vaughn or his family happened to look across, they would no doubt spot them in their yellow jackets, and he didn’t want any interference.

  Armstrong crept back on the path. The hikers walked about twenty or so feet in front of him. He knew he could open fire and take them out, but the sound of the gunshots would attract attention, and he didn’t want Vaughn and his family veering from their path. He had to do something though. His former squad’s unofficial motto had been Neca eos omnes, which roughly translated from Latin to mean ‘Kill them all’.

  Wise words.

  But he needed to work quickly.

  This high up the wind blew much stronger. It ruffled Armstrong’s camouflaged suit, animating various bits of the foliage, making the fabric seem as though it took on a life of its own. Bracing himself, he crept up behind the couple, withdrawing his 4 inch lock knife from behind his back as he did so. The blade clicked open, the serrated edge catching what little light was available. He liked the feel of the knife. It wasn’t as satisfying as a gun, but the sight of the blade often scared people more. Knives were one of the earliest weapons mankind had invented, and its importance could not be compared, so blades held a special place in his heart. As he launched himself at the couple, it took up a special place in the man’s heart, but this time in a more literal sense.

  Taken by surprise, the man didn’t have time to react. Armstrong pulled him back, making sure the blade went all the way in. He immediately felt warm blood oozing over his fingers and he yanked the blade out and spun the man away, causing him to fall over the edge of the hillock. As the man fell, the woman turned to gawk at him, then she started to scream. Armstrong cut the sound off by slicing her windpipe. The woman clutched at her throat, blood spurting out in a red geyser. She dropped to her knees, staring up at him with terrified, doe eyes before she toppled on her side.

  Armstrong wiped the blade on her hood and kicked her aside before closing the blade and putting the knife back on his belt.

  CHAPTER 20

  “Did you hear that?” Emma asked.

  “Hear what?” Kurt replied.

  “It sounded like a scream.”

  Kurt surveyed their surroundings. He couldn’t see the woods any more as they had travelled too far away, and a hedge on one side restricted his sight in that direction, but he did spot a small hillock composed of grey rocks and foliage. He thought he glimpsed a flash of yellow in his peripheral vision, but when he tried to trace the sight he couldn’t find anything.

  He shrugged. “Probably the wind. Come on, we need to hurry up. How you doing, Caleb?”

  His son nodded. “I’m okay.”

  “Good lad.”

  As he started walking again, the wind and rain buffeted Kurt’s face. His cheeks had grown numb to the cold by now, but the rain kept stinging his eyes and he wiped it away before stuffing his hands back in his pockets.

  His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the gun. He only hoped the damn thing didn’t go off in his pocket. And if he did have to use the weapon, he hoped all he had to do was pull the trigger.

  The face of the man he had killed appeared in his mind. Although he hadn’t been so bothered about it before because his family had been in danger, now the enormity of what he had done started to sink in and he knew the blood on his hands would not be easily scrubbed away. He wondered whether Williams had a family, anyone to mourn his death? Did he have a wife, kids? While the thought he might have left a kid without a Dad pained him, he had to remember Williams was a killer. Even if he hadn’t pressed the button, by association and his actions, he was accountable for helping make orphans and widows out of quite a few people nine months ago. Compared to the justice a court would have meted out, vengeance had been swift and final. No court of appeal for Williams.

  But with another potential killer on their tail, Kurt reined his thoughts in and concentrated on the task at hand, getting his famil
y to safety.

  He glanced back to check nobody was following them and thought he noticed movement on the hillock, but all he saw was a bush blowing in the breeze and small clumps of animated foliage.

  The muddy ground slowed their progress considerably, and in places whole areas had flooded due to the weeks of rain. Kurt’s Goretex boots were getting a good workout, but so far his feet had stayed dry. Caleb was not faring as well as some of the puddles went over his boots, but he didn’t complain, even though his feet must have been soaking. He guessed wet feet paled in comparison to having seen his father kill someone, for which he would no doubt need counselling or something to combat the nightmares Kurt felt sure would haunt him at night.

  The phone’s GPS showed they were now only about ten minutes away from the car park, and Kurt started to feel a little more relaxed. They were going to get out of this okay. The only thing that would relax him more would be a signal so he could call for some backup.

  It still vexed and scared him to think the people he had been searching for had shadowed him all along, or at least this Armstrong had. He still didn’t understand why, unless it was to ascertain whether he was making any inroads with the case, so they could be forewarned of any imminent arrests. But that didn’t explain why they tricked him into this geocaching charade.

  The only explanation he found plausible made the whole thing some sort of game. A sick game, the outcome of which he couldn’t fathom. From what he could tell though he wasn’t the only player, as Armstrong was playing the rest of his crew too. But Williams’ actions demonstrated Kurt and his family were no longer a necessary piece of the puzzle. Having seen the men’s faces meant they could identify them, so they wanted them out of the picture.

  Up ahead they joined a trail that led them over a stile in a hedge. Kurt vaulted over it, a renewed vigour in his step. Despite the rain, he saw the statue in the distance they had visited earlier, peeking out above the trees, and judging by how far away the statue stood, he guessed they must be close to the car.

  “Almost there,” he said.

  Emma nodded, rainwater dripping from the hood of her jacket. Her gait had progressively deteriorated and she held her arm against her stomach as she walked. Kurt helped her over the stile, careful not to aggravate her wound, but she slipped and almost lost her footing, wincing as she jarred her arm. She exhaled through gritted teeth. Kurt grimaced.

  Caleb hopped over behind them. Kurt had never seen his son look so scared or miserable.

  A few minutes later he spotted the roof of the car peeking from behind a low hedge, a gap between which would give them access to the small gravel parking area. He slipped through the opening, grabbing the keys from his pocket as he did so. When he pressed the button to deactivate the central locking, the resultant click was the most welcoming sound he had ever heard.

  “Quick, get in ...” he said, his mouth remaining open as the last word left his lips. His heartbeat increased once more, blood pulsing through his veins, eyes going wide as he stared at the flat tyres.

  Emma must have noticed them too as her good hand went to her mouth.

  Before any of them had time to move, a figure popped up from behind the car, the muzzle of a gun pointed at them.

  CHAPTER 21

  Kurt pushed Emma and Caleb aside. Emma fell on the ground, letting out a small yelp as her shoulder struck the pavement. Caleb skidded but remained upright. Tears filled his eyes.

  Kurt stared at the figure. Recognised him as the bald-headed member of the gang, Rogers. He stood with his hands resting on top of the car, using the roof as a support for the gun. Kurt stared into the barrel, terrified of seeing a brief flash before the bullet struck him down.

  But Rogers didn’t fire. He licked his lips. Wiped rainwater from his forehead.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move.” Rogers enunciated each word, making every one seem to strike as physically as a bullet.

  “Calm down,” Kurt said, holding his hands up in surrender. He considered reaching for the gun in his pocket, but realised he couldn’t grab it in time.

  “Where’s the money? The clue said our money would be at your car.”

  “I don’t know. But put the gun down and we can work this out.”

  “Just tell me where the fuckin’ money is.”

  Emma struggled to her feet. She pulled Caleb behind her with her good arm. Rogers adjusted his aim, pointing the gun at her.

  “Tell me, or she dies.”

  “Look, I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know. The only person who knows is the one who hid the money.”

  “Armstrong,” Rogers snarled.

  Kurt’s heart felt as though it was going to explode out of his chest. He stared at the gun, terrified of seeing Rogers pull the trigger.

  “Think about it,” Kurt said. “How should I have a clue where the money is?”

  “Then you’re no use to me.”

  Kurt waved his hands. “Wait a minute; I think we’re all being used by Armstrong. He’s playing us all.”

  Rogers grimaced, making the crow’s feet around his eyes more pronounced.

  “Think about everything. There’s got to be a reason why he’s doing this.”

  Before Rogers could reply, Conner ran through the gap in the hedge, brandishing his gun.

  “What’s going on?” Conner demanded, puffing slightly.

  “That’s what I want to know,” Rogers said.

  “Well Williams is dead. I presume Vaughn killed him.”

  Rogers glared at Kurt. “Is that right? Did you kill him?”

  Kurt tried to swallow but it felt as though he had a cactus in his throat.

  “Answer me, god damn it.”

  Kurt nodded. No point in lying, especially as he still had blood on his hands.

  Rogers nodded. “Then I guess it means we get his share of the money.”

  “You can do anything you want with me, but please, just let my family go.”

  “Dad!”

  Kurt glanced at his son and his heart broke in two. He had never felt so much love in his life. Tears flooded Caleb’s eyes, mingling with the rain that buffeted his cheeks.

  Conner stepped forwards and grabbed Caleb by the scruff of the neck. He yanked him out of Emma’s hands, making both mother and son scream.

  “Don’t hurt my boy,” she said, dropping to her knees in supplication.

  Conner put the barrel of his gun against Caleb’s head. “I presume you took Williams’ weapons. Slowly take them out and throw them over here.”

  Kurt reached into his pocket and pulled out the gun. He tossed the pistol on the ground, followed by the knife.

  Conner nodded. “Right, let’s get this over with. The clues led here to your car, so open the door.”

  Kurt ran across and opened the doors, then the boot. “There.” He stepped aside.

  “Search it,” Conner said to Rogers.

  The man did as he was asked. After a moment he stood up straight and shrugged. “Nothing. There’s nothing here.” He smashed the butt of his gun onto the roof of the vehicle hard enough to dent it. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  “You and me both,” Conner said.

  “The car was locked,” Kurt said, finding it hard to think clearly when his family were in danger.

  “So?” Rogers snapped.

  “So whatever we’re looking for probably wasn’t inside in the car.”

  “Where else could it be?” Conner asked.

  Kurt dropped to the ground and peered under the car. “There.” He pointed. “Something’s underneath.”

  Rogers got down on his knees and reached for the item. He pulled out a small plastic container and stood up. Without waiting he yanked the lid off and took out a piece of paper that he stared at for a moment.

  “So, what’s the note say?” Conner asked.

  “Another stupid puzzle.”

  “Well read it out.”

  “It’s a crossword.” He held the paper up for inspection, the rain covering it
in splatters. “Says we need to work out the clues and take the first letter of each word to figure out what’s going to happen next, which is composed of three words. A four letter one, then a two letter one, followed by a three.”

  Conner stared at Kurt. “Well let’s get started, and everyone is going to help.”

  Across

  2. inspire

  5. mysterious

  8. compassion

  9. threat

  Down

  1. fool

  3. fruit

  4. pattern or overlay used in graphic arts

  6. chemical element with the symbol Fe

  7. Latin American dance

  Rogers read each clue out and added how many letters they were looking for, and eventually they started to fill the grids. Despite the threat they were facing, Kurt supplied most of the answers. He imagined his brain was working in overdrive and thinking about something else took his mind off their predicament.

  Conner seemed to be getting impatient. He kept clenching his jaw, making veins throb in his temples. Meanwhile Rogers struggled to write on the increasingly soggy paper, swearing loudly when his pen went through the sheet.

  But eventually they cracked the puzzle and came up with nine words.

  Empathy

  Idiot

  Danger

  Enigmatic

  Motivate

  Iron

  Tango

  Orange

  Template

  Rogers read out the first letter of each word: E I D E M I T O T. “It’s just gibberish.”

  “It’s an anagram,” Kurt said. “According to the note, you’re looking for three words. A four letter one, then a two letter one and finally a three letter one.”

  They all started shouting out words: tit, toe, emit, item, die, to, dime, mite, time, it, do.

  “This is useless,” Rogers said. “The clue could say anything.”

  “It has to be a sentence,” Kurt said.