by Sid K
As their caravan got closer to the building’s parking lot, Saltvyk barked, “Stop the car!”
The driver stopped the car and the cars behind braked hard as they had not anticipated stopping in the middle of the road. The road itself was empty and there were no other cars coming from either way.
Saltvyk pointed towards the parking lot. “Look at that. There are seven cars parked in the there.”
“Well, he has six gunmen as guards,” the driver said.
“Might have some customers,” the gunman in the back seat said.
“Never. He only meets with one customer in one day to maintain secrecy of the customers from each other,” Saltvyk said.
“He is right,” the driver said. “Whenever we have come with Duke to meet him, it is only him and his bodyguards.”
“Besides they park their cars in the back,” Saltvyk said, “to maintain the image of an abandoned warehouse, and they only drive two cars amongst the seven of them.”
“They are not police or they would have markings,” the driver said. “But they could be SPASI. We don’t want to stumble onto them with that automatic we brought with us.”
“I will keep it hidden under my coat,” the back seat gunman said. “That’s why I wore a big coat today, two sizes too big.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. They can’t search him or our cars without a letter of search,” Saltvyk said, “and they are not going to have it premade.”
“Could be another syndicate?” the driver wondered.
“Could be,” Saltvyk said. “We’ll park on the other side and then walk in with our guns drawn. Except for you,” he turned his head back. “You keep that ATR inside your coat till we are certain that they aren’t SPASI detectives.”
“Will do,” he said.
Then they slowly drove up to the warehouse, passed the front and pulled into the empty area on the other side.
Saltvyk and his men slowly walked up to the front door of the warehouse. Saltvyk took out his pistol, as did a few others; the riflemen and the shotgun carriers adjusted their long guns from their shoulders to their hands in an easier firing position. As they got nearer they could hear voices coming from inside and Saltvyk thought he recognized a loud voice. He slowly pushed open the door and walked in with his pistol in his hand.
There was already a crowd of gunmen inside.
“Look who it is?” Shotgun Syk said with a big smile. “Our old friend the Saltvyk.”
“Shotgun Syk, what are you doing here?” Saltvyk asked as his own gunmen poured into the room. Shotgun Syk had brought twenty some men with him and they and Ragfelvyk’s men aimed their rifles, pistols and shotguns at each other. Behind his men, Shotgun Syk was standing near a table with his shotgun leaning on it. The Broker was sitting back on a chair, sweating. After seeing the new arrivals his face lit up. If there was one man that could save him from Syk, it was Saltvyk. Behind the Broker stood six of his bodyguards, their pistols tucked in their suits and coats, outnumbered and helpless, just standing and watching. They were tough and loyal, all six of them, but going against Black Star was not what they had imagined a part of their job.
“You tell me first,” Shotgun Syk said. “I am just here for some information.”
“We may be after the same thing then,” Saltvyk said. “We, too, would like some information.”
They looked at each other warily. All of their men were pointing their guns at each other, only Syk and Saltvyk weren’t. Syk kept his shotgun leaning on the table while Saltvyk’s pistol was aimed downward. It was only a few years back when they were at war and had been in shootouts a couple of times. SPASI had brokered sort of a ‘treaty’ between them and they had marked their turfs. But the old feelings remained; many of the men here had most likely shot at each other during the course of that war. Saltvyk examined the situation: in numbers they were about evenly matched, however the Broker’s bodyguards were a wildcard. He had quickly noticed the guns of Black Star men and did not seen any ATRs, meanwhile his own gunman had taken his ATR automatic out of his coat and was aiming it straight at Syk. However, that was no big advantage in a short-distance gun battle out in open. If they had a decent cover then ATR would definitely had come in handy. He had to be careful, he could inadvertently reignite a war that the bosses did not want and no one here could walk out of alive. Luckily he found out that Syk shared his thoughts.
“We are still at peace, aren’t we?” Shotgun Syk asked.
“The treaty holds,” Saltvyk said. “We didn’t know you fellas were going to be here.”
“Great, because I don’t see either of us winning here, but all of us dying,” Syk said.
Saltvyk nodded and then said, “Syk, let’s talk in private for a minute, in that corner.” He pointed to an empty corner to their left with no one standing close by.
As they walked over to the corner, they turned to their men. They did not want some overeager gunman to start a battle. Saltvyk issued an order, “take it easy men,” and Shotgun Syk nodded his agreement to his side; slowly men from both sides pointed their guns to the ground while they still stared at each other. Syk and Saltvyk started talking in whispers.
“SPASI cracking down hard on you, too?” Saltvyk asked.
“Yeah, some big time detective visited Mr. Barryvk,” Shotgun Syk said. “Why, you too?”
“Maybe it was the same detective who came to meet father,” Saltvyk said, “wanted information about these foreign bank robbers.”
“Same here,” Syk said. “Now who the fuck are these bastards trying to muscle in on both of our turfs. If they weren’t already in SPASI’s crosshairs I would have said let’s team up this one time and bump off those roaches.”
“That would be something,” Saltvyk chuckled. “And they are fools enough to do daylight bank robberies. Now Syk I have a proposal for you.”
“Shoot,” Syk said then laughed. “I don’t mean it that way, but go ahead.”
“Whatever we get out of the Broker, let’s split it in half,” Saltvyk said. “You give SPASI half, we will give the other half. If both of us give them the same information, they will play us off against each other and deny the favor we did them.”
“Right, I get it,” Syk said. “Let’s get something out of him first. He is really going to sweat bullets now that both us will unload on him.”
They walked over to the Broker who was sheepishly eyeing them. A big, rough man in his own right, with a gruff and deep voice and a rude demeanor, wearing an expensive silver watch and a gold chain, with round beady eyes, he was no pushover, but even the Broker was afraid of the big syndicates.
Shotgun Syk walked to the left of the Broker and Saltvyk stood to his right. Both of them simultaneously pointed their weapons at him.
“Things just got a lot worse for you Broker,” Shotgun Syk said, “The only men who could have plausibly saved you from us, the Ragfelvyk’s, want the same information out of you, about those foreign bank robbers.”
“Mr. Barryvk can shut down half of your business,” Saltvyk said. “And Duke can close down the other half. So you better talk now.”
Shotgun Syk physically touched his shotgun barrel to Broker’s side temple and gave a slight shove. “Talk you dumb fucking mute or Saltvyk will be cleaning your brains off his hands.”
Saltvyk guffawed and all the men in the room let loose a rip roaring laughter.
The Broker swallowed hard and composed himself. He took a gulp of water from the glass on his table.
“Take it easy, Shotgun Syk. I will tell you what I know. Just take it easy.”
Saltvyk lowered his pistol and Syk put his shotgun back on his shoulder. Broker took a sigh of relief and sat up straight in the chair. He began talking while staring at the floor in front of him.
“You will understand my reluctance to rat out my customers,” the Broker said. “My business depends on discretion. The only reason anyone would pay my fat commissions is because they can get their hands on goods without anyone els
e knowing about it. If the news gets out that I ratted on even one client, the rest will evaporate like a water drop under hot sun. I bet Mr. Barryvk or Duke would not be happy if I talked about their deals with someone else.”
He looked up at them in turn, but they were listening to him silently. Rest of the gunmen were also standing and hanging onto his every word.
“So about more than a year ago, I get this deal with these Ranxian bank robbers,” he said. “Well, I didn’t know they were bank robbers back then. This rich Ranxian businessman comes to me and wants forty-million stars in currency. He was referred to me by small time underworld dealmakers, like this gambler in Red Beach, a smuggler up north and a car fence in Korrwyn’s Junction. They couldn’t handle such a large amount. However, there is no way I can do that deal either, the most I have done is twelve million stars in foreign currency conversion. Who has that kind of cash lying around? I bet even the King would not be able to come up with forty million in cash quickly.”
He took a gulp from the water glass and waited a few seconds.
“First the amount is too much, second the Ranx currency he was is offering is not very valuable and can’t be easily disposed of,” the Broker said. “I would have to convert it to some other currency and then back to stars to make profit on it. Ranx Nation has mediocre commerce, although I didn’t tell him that, and they barely export anything of value. Who wants their currency?”
“So what did you do with him?” Saltvyk asked.
“Oh, I did the deal alright, but for a much smaller sum—fifteen million stars,” the Broker said, “I charged a hefty commission, biggest I have charged on illegal currency conversion. I am still trying to dispose of the last of the Ranx currency.”
“And just what did you just think those fellas were up to?” Shotgun Syk asked.
“I had no clue they were planning bank robberies,” Broker said. “He was a rich businessman, I had him checked out. No connections to underworld before this deal. I figured he wanted to buy industrial machinery from our country, for his factories and mills and he wanted to import them back to Ranx, but that he wanted to do it without paying customs tax on it to his country. The way to avoid that would be for him to get our currency without any records so he could import machinery in secret. That is what I figured.”
“Who else was with him?” Saltvyk asked.
“A couple of tough guys came with him as his bodyguards,” the Broker said. “Not underworld types, but more like the army types.”
“Those must be the bank robbers,” Saltvyk said. “How did they get into Starfire Nation? Our border checks are supposed to be thorough.”
“Now, I am going to tell you a lot more,” Broker said looking at both of them in turn. “But promise to leave me alone after this.”
“You got it,” Saltvyk said. Shotgun Syk smiled slyly but then nodded.
“They paid off this smuggling racket up north to smuggle in men and automatic rifles,” Broker said. “They also took my help to buy a plot of land down south, more like southwest, even beyond Southstar, but I don’t know for what purpose.”
“Where exactly?” Syk demanded to know.
“I guided them to a land broker,” the Broker said, “a legitimate broker, so I don’t have any contact with him.”
Saltvyk and Shotgun Syk looked at each other for a few moments.
“I think he has told us everything he knows,” Saltvyk said.
“He better have,” Shotgun Syk said.
“Duke will call Mr. Barryvk to discuss splitting up the information,” Saltvyk said. “Don’t have him call SPASI before my father’s call.”
“Count on it,” Syk replied.
Without any further talk, Saltvyk walked back to his men. They slowly went back out first as they were the closest to the door, their guns still drawn and backing to the door, their eyes to Black Star’s men. They got in their cars and headed back down south to the Gold Harbor. Shotgun Syk and his men left right after they heard the cars speed away on the road. They headed north towards the junction that would take them out east. The Broker and his bodyguards gave big sighs of relief and the Broker momentarily collapsed on his desk in exhaustion.
chapter 10 – the house of banks
09/02/958
The personal office of the Constellar Dvyet Zook was on the third floor of the C Constellation building. There was his personal room along with the meeting room and a small reception room. The rooms were painted in metallic gray, bestowing on them an aura of formality and seriousness. Today, the House of Banks was meeting to discuss the recent spate of armed bank robberies. Constellar Dvyet was setting up the projector on the center table just in case anybody decided to give a presentation. Ten chairs were uniformly arranged around the table and another was set at the front; that was his chair as the head of this House.
Dvyet was in his early sixty’s, his hair had all turned white long ago and the wrinkles on his face showed the toll that age and politics had taken on him. His eyes were large and round above a slightly crooked nose. His features and manners were well suited for his high position. He was the Head of the House of Banks, which was responsible for supervising the entire banking industry of the Starfire Nation as well as the money circulation.
The newspapers were having a field day with the bank robberies, and solving the case had become very important for the House. Usually bank robberies were town police matters, but the scale and scope had gotten the attention at the highest level of politics. The bankers as well as the public were paying great attention and the matter had to be resolved as fast as possible.
Just as he finished preparing the projector, there was a knock on his door.
“Come in,” he said.
Constellar Slyntya walked in wearing a purple sweater over a full length black round skirt with a big, black belt around her waist and black high heels. Her hair came down slightly below her shoulders and was wavy and tussled.
“You wanted me to come early?” she asked as she walked in the meeting room. “We have half an hour before the session begins.”
“Yes, take a seat,” he said and himself sat down on his chair up front, opened his bag, took out a folder and placed it in front of him. Slyntya took a chair that was nearly on the opposite end of the table and put her black leather purse on the table.
“Slyntya, I know you were not very keen on being placed on the House of Banks,” Dvyet said, “I just want you to know that it had nothing to do with your originally being from the Karaln Nation. We do not place first term Constellars on Houses that are of strategic importance.”
“I understand that,” she said, “It’s just I would have been a natural fit for the House of Atom since Atomic Science is what I studied and worked in.”
“If you get selected for the second term, I will see to it that you get placed in the House of Atom.”
“Looking forward,” she said with a wide smile.
“But I called you here early to give you your first real work as a political leader,” Dvyet said. “You had told me that you found the regular work of the House of Banks fairly dull and I can understand that for someone who was not in this field. I had been a banker for more than twenty years before I entered politics; I find this work interesting, but that's just me and my past profession. Now I have a task for you that you will find a lot more exciting to supervise, and you are also the perfect match for this role.”
“Something to do with the bank robberies?” she asked.
“Sharp. You guessed right.” Dvyet smiled as he pushed the folder from in front of him across the table to her. “Read through it after today’s meeting—that explains it all. But to summarize, all you have to do is supervise the SPASI detectives investigating this and regularly report to this House on their progress.”
“I like it,” she said with a half-smile opening the folder and flipping through the pages. “But why did you say I was a ‘perfect match’ for this role? I don’t know anything about detective work.”
“I know him well,” she said. “Sthykar and I have dined with his family a few times.”
“That’s why,” Dvyet said. “Sometimes SPASI detectives huff and puff and develop a bad attitude when a Constellar is assigned to supervise them on a case that is politically important. They say they want operational independence and not somebody looking over their shoulder. I understand their point of view, but they are a state department and it is only natural for the state leaders to supervise them.”
“I will get along well with Sayett,” Slyntya said. “I am not someone to pester over petty matters.”
“Good, that’s what I thought. But don’t forget you are the political boss. They have to tell you everything they do and know.”
She nodded in affirmative then put the folder in her purse. A moment later there was a knock on the door and a couple of other members of the House of Banks entered and took their seat. During the next ten minutes, all the rest arrived and they began their discussion of banking matters with a particular focus on the bank robberies.
* * *
Slyntya left the Constellation after an hour-long meeting. She walked over to one of the official cars that ferried the Constellars and climbed in. “To the House of Banks please,” she said.
“Yes, Ma’am.” The driver smiled and nodded before he started the engine.
Slyntya always got smiles and head nods from the Constellar men and drivers were no different. She believed they actually liked chauffeuring her rather than the male Constellars who were older and billowing cigar smoke. These drivers were also all ex-army soldiers and thus doubled as guards. The car went out of the inner and outer gates and then it was a short drive to the House of Banks.
The House of Banks was a seven floor building located within the same general area. It was built with maroon-red stone for its walls with dark-gray sparkling stone for its four corners. The windows had white marble decorations on all four sides of their exterior. It was surrounded by a ten-foot tall steel fence with one single gate for entry and exit. Slyntya got out of the car and walked to the gate. The policeman standing there knew her and let her in without asking for her identification.
