by Andrew Weis
Everyone kicked my ass since I got here. It’d be nice if it led to a better place for me.
“Boy, Dad, and I thought I was a dreamer,” I said, smirking.
“Humans generally disregard dreamers. That’s counter-productive since humans in positions of power work off someone’s dream. You possess strong dream abilities that you don’t know how to harness as a useful tool. But, you will one day. You’re one blessed young girl, Jessa Roscoe.”
“I don’t understand how I’d use that power, but it’s for nothing if I fail tomorrow.”
Dad stepped to the bedroom window. He squinted as he looked outside at the few stars that shined enough to break through the light pollution of the city. His chest heaved as he took a deep breath.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you on this ARV any longer.”
My heart froze and my mouth felt dry as cotton.
“What? Why not?”
“The Powers informed me that your progress on your ARV along with breaking its terms made them watch you closer.”
“If they’ve been watching me, then they’ve seen me do nothing but fight through each day and do everything I can to keep Daniel safe. Until last night, we had things under control, then someone took him,” I said.
“Do you know who?”
I removed my ponytail binding and shook out my hair. While my brain fought to answer Dad’s question, I scratched at my scalp as if fleas infested it.
“I wasn’t there, okay? But Nemo and Nero saw it,” I said.
“Okay, relax. What happened?”
“They described some kind of circular wavy ring. What kind of angel moves out of a thing like that?”
Dad’s brow wrinkled and pouted his lip while he thought.
“That sounds a lot like a time window. Some archangels have abilities granted to them through divine endorsement.”
At the library in Hali, I read about time windows but one case I read where a human named John Harrod was allowed to time travel seemed impossible to believe.
“Time windows?” I asked. “I can’t deal with any time travel crap; my brain’s ready to explode as it is. Ellis is the only archangel I know and whether or not he has anything to do with the Book of Ancients is debatable,” I said in frustration. “I’m taking all the hits here and for what? Jail time?”
“Jessa, please.”
“Look, I know the Powers are mad at me and my promotion is long gone. So, why should they help me anymore? The more I think about it, the more I think I’m being played.”
“Jessa, look at things from their side. The Book of Ancients is the most important text in all existence. Time windows or not, they won’t take risks of any kind when it comes to its safety.”
It seemed I had few allies in Hali these days. I knew I was overwhelmed and at times felt sorry for myself. Maybe this was the kick in the butt I needed.
“So, is Hali in lockdown?” I asked. “We know a dominion is involved, so shouldn’t they talk to the one who approved the permission? That angel has to know something.”
Dad turned and tapped his lip. He took occasional glances at me as if he were formulating a plan.
“Jessa, think. Who wants what at this stage in the game? Is anything missing?”
“I’ve been a ghost for a couple years. I can’t think of anything an angel would want in Daniel’s bedroom.”
“It might help to think about the last events of your life as a human. Try remembering as much as you can.”
That day royally sucked. The memories were too depressing to relive. Time spent in the Outer Edge would cure me of that problem.
“I can’t remember anything, Dad.”
Dad looked around as if making sure nobody else was in the room.
“Keep trying. The answer is written there somewhere,” Dad said under his breath.
“We’re alone, Dad.”
“I know,” he said in a softer tone. “But you did something that day that forced other angels into action. So, the sooner you remember, the better.”
“I remember Coz shooting at me, the train running over me. There was that stupid dog at Double N too.”
“What dog?”
I still felt the vice-like compression of that mutt’s jaws as it chomped on my leg.
“I dropped off the GTO to get a new exhaust. That’s when their watchdog clamped onto my leg.”
“Okay. Remember this conversation. It’ll help you.”
Dad vanished and once again I was alone. That day was the black hole of my life. Daniel never got his book back and, holy crap! A glimmer of hope lit up inside me. I headed down the porch steps and went over a plan in my head. I decided I’d keep my little field trip to myself and sought my GTO. Even though two years had passed, I hoped the car was still at Double N.
Chapter 31
AFTER SPEAKING WITH my dad, I tried rationalizing the best possible outcome of the upcoming Fed robbery. My nervousness at the state track finals was nothing compared to the bricks that metaphorically filled my panties at this moment.
My thoughts couldn’t waver from the undelivered note in Daniel’s book. Dad’s parting advice, the way he said it, hooked me. He was a little deliberate, but he taught me a precious lesson on how to pay attention to the subtle manner in which angels communicated with each other.
I arrived at Double N and there weren’t any white GTOs in the back lot. A sinking feeling bear-hugged my heart. I stayed inrepped while I scouted the property then ventured inside through the back wall.
Reggie’s testing area stood abandoned. The blue plastic barrels still remained on the floor. The chemical smell of fresh car paint along with a variety of petroleum products filled the air.
Many cars stood in various states of assembly. Some cars were in primer coats of white, gray or dark red while others rested on lifts with front ends or tires removed.
One car on a lift in the far corner caught my eye. It was my GTO. My jaw dropped upon seeing the gutted interior. If Daniel’s book was there once, it wasn’t anymore.
I dashed to the front window at the sound of a strong engine and saw the red Chevelle coming towards the shop. Short-tempered voices from one of the upstairs offices grew louder.
Even though I was inrepped, a red 1963 Corvette split-window coupe on jack stands served as added cover; I couldn’t be too careful anymore. Tyrone and Ellis emerged from the office with cocky smiles. I shuffled over to a black mid-1960s GMC pickup truck and watched as they came down the stairs.
“Are you sure Coz can stay cool on his own? If he kills anyone, I’ll scrap this whole thing,” Ellis said.
“Don’t worry about Coz. He’ll stay in line,” Tyrone said.
“He’s got less than an hour, so where the hell is he? The armored trucks are on a GPS system. Once the truck gets here, we’ll only have a couple minutes to get back on the road before any alerts go off at the Fed dock master’s desk.”
Tyrone nodded but didn’t look confident.
“Something wrong?” Ellis asked.
“Daytime jobs make me nervous,” Tyrone said. “There’ll be guards and people everywhere. One slipup, and we’re screwed.”
I wondered how long it took the oatmeal called Tyrone’s brain to come to that conclusion.
“Relax. The Loop thins out after 5:00. When civilians see guns, they’ll scatter like frightened mice.”
“What about the guards? The Fed is a fortress.”
“Don’t worry about the guards. If you follow the plan, you’ll be able to walk out with a four-hundred pound skid of bundled bills.”
Tyrone nodded as a large grin cracked his face.
“Damn, that sounds like a lot of money,” Tyrone said.
“It is a lot, but don’t panic,” Ellis said. “Act like you’re supposed to be there. That’ll keep unnecessary attention away from you.”
“What if someone asks questions we can’t answer?”
“I’ll take care of them.”
“Cool.”
“Everyone else ready?”
“Yeah. Nemo and Nero are back on track. They were spending too much time with Jessa, but they told me they scratched her from the lineup.”
Ellis didn’t flinch.
“I’d be happier if she wasn’t in the picture at all. Can you have her taken out?” Ellis asked.
“Iced? Yeah, sure.”
“Not now, but after everything is done. Her blundering might still work for us.”
“You got it. Coz will do her clean. Did you find what you needed at Daniel’s house?”
My ears perked. I looked over the GMC pickup truck’s hood and spied Ellis.
“No,” Ellis said. “I had to take care of those no good bouncers, but they didn’t know it was me.”
“What’s so important that you’re turning the city upside-down? First it was the silent bomb formula, and now you got a new thing that’s MIA. We’re about to become rich men,” Tyrone said.
“Never mind. You concentrate on the Fed. There’s still a chance Daniel might have it.”
“What’s he got?”
Ellis’s eyes glowed red with anger. “A note.”
I ducked behind the truck and thought. If tripping up Ellis’s master plan wasn’t possible, I could at least irritate him enough into making a mistake. With Coz on his way to get the armored truck, I’d make sure he didn’t hurt anyone.
Chapter 32
I TOOK TO the skies in search of Coz’s Chevelle. After a quick scan of the streets, I spotted his car in an alley a couple blocks from Continental Savings. I hovered over the bank, then saw an armored truck approach from down the street.
Like clockwork, Coz sauntered toward the bank. He lit a cigarette while he observed the armored truck cruise to the bank.
From a rooftop across the street from Continental Savings, I watched the proceedings. Hijacking an armored truck with all these people around was a stupid idea.
When Coz hooked up with Tyrone, he changed for the absolute worst. It was right around the time his brother died, that like a light switch, Coz changed. I gravitated to Daniel, which was another dagger shoved into Coz’s heart.
The armored truck’s squealing brakes snapped my concentration and cut into my ears. The truck was right on time. I watched the mule climb out of the passenger side and trot to the truck’s back door. The box man inside the truck handed a satchel to the mule, then yanked the door closed. While the mule and the driver hustled into the bank, the driver scanned the area in all directions.
Coz stood, observing the truck from the doorway of Hanky’s Burgers, a favorite local burger place, holding a takeout bag. When he saw the mule and the driver emerge from the bank, he dropped his takeout bag, then timed his pace to meet the mule at the truck.
The mule got back to the truck and handed the satchel to the box man. The mule opened the passenger side door when, in a flash, Coz rushed up and shoved a small gun into the mule’s back. No human could move that fast, which convinced me that Coz wasn’t exactly human. I followed the truck as it headed to Double N.
The truck entered through the main garage door of Double N Performance. Still inrepped, I ducked behind a 1962 Chevy El Camino masked-off for painting while I listened in on the conversation.
Nemo and Nero stood at the back of the armored truck. Coz strutted to the truck, then pounded on the back door, ordering the box man to open the door. Two of Tyrone’s thugs held the driver and courier at gunpoint.
Moments later, the truck’s back door swung open. The box man sat inside with his hands raised. Coz yanked out the box man and shoved him beside the other captured guards.
“Lose the uniforms,” Tyrone said. The guards eyed each other while fury built on Tyrone’s face. “Strip, bitches!”
The guards took off their bulletproof vests and stripped down to their underwear. Reggie and another thug came down the steps from the upstairs offices. Reggie gripped a satchel that dragged his shoulder down and put him in an out-of-kilter stance.
“Got everything?” Tyrone asked.
“One of the detonators is missing,” Reggie said.
Tyrone removed a small device from his vest pocket then flashed a stupid arrogant smile as he waved it.
“You mean this one?” Tyrone asked.
“I’d be careful with that if I was you,” Reggie said.
“Nero.”
Nero unshouldered his satchel, removed a dog collar with Reggie’s explosives attached to it and wrapped it around Reggie’s neck. Like putting a candle on a cupcake, Nero stuck a blasting cap in the clay.
“Are you out of your mind, T?” Reggie said as Nero strapped on the collar.
“If we clear, you lose the necklace,” Tyrone said.
Coz gathered the uniforms.
“Get dressed. The rest of you get into the truck. The clock ain’t stopping.”
“What about them?” Coz said as he waved his gun at the guards standing in their underwear.
“Lock them in the oven. They won’t hurt nobody in there.”
Nemo and Nero motioned the guards into the industrial paint oven large enough to fit a big-ass 1950s Cadillac limo and closed the door. I watched Nemo lock the door, then unlock it. Curious. The door remained cracked open, but nobody seemed to notice.
Coz jogged back to a storage room while Nemo, Nero and Reggie climbed into the armored truck. Tyrone scanned the shop.
“Coz, where you at?” Tyrone shouted.
Coz returned with Daniel struggling in his grip.
“We ain’t got time for babysitting, Coz.”
“He’s a gift from, uh, a friend. He bagged him in case Reggie develops last minute amnesia,” Coz said.
Tyrone nodded as Coz put Daniel into the back of the truck with the others. Coz and Tyrone climbed into the truck cab and started the engine. A thug opened the garage door, and the armored truck was on its way to the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago.
While inrepped, I stepped around the masked-off El Camino and stepped to the oven. While I glided the door open, the thug by the garage door grew curious of the self-opening oven door and came for a closer look.
In my blue field of vision, I threw my elbow up into the thug’s jaw, which knocked him cold. I still didn’t understand how I could hit someone while inrepped. The guards poked their heads out of the oven and scanned the empty shop. I darted through the ceiling to catch up with the truck. They weren’t losing me this time.
Chapter 33
AFTER THE TERRORIST attacks on September 11, the government spent billions of dollars beefing up security at its most valuable properties. The Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago was no exception. Hi-tech barricades and video equipment on either end of the bank’s block-long alley, along with armed guards with automatic weapons, protected the bank’s main vault access point.
If Coz or Tyrone thought they’d walk into the bank and declare a holdup, they’d only get themselves killed. The first step toward the basement vaults was with an authorized armored truck. Tyrone had that part figured out.
Tyrone’s armored truck approached the Fed’s gated entry barricade. In a couple seconds, the steel barricade pillars lowered into the ground. The truck entered, made a three-point turn and backed to an opening overhead dock door.
Two security guards wearing bulletproof vests and carrying military rifles stepped out. Two more guards circled the truck and slid mirrors underneath it before waving an all clear to someone inside the enclosed dock. Tyrone nodded at the guard, who guided the truck into the enclosed dock. Once the truck cleared the doorway, the guards retreated inside, and the dock’s garage door lowered rapidly. They were in.
While still inrepped, I stepped through the overhead door to the docking space where the truck parked between eight-foot tall concrete walls to further isolate each truck. The armored truck’s diesel engine shut off and halted the noxious exhaust from smothering everyone.
The dock space was like a basement, cool and damp from all the surroun
ding concrete. LED lighting made the dock as bright as day. Armed guards stood everywhere. Boy, they looked bored.
I stayed half-embedded in one of the dividing walls with my eyes clearing the concrete divider to observe Tyrone and Coz. The possibility that Ellis might be around encouraged me to stay in the shadows.
Tyrone and Coz jumped out of the truck and made their way up the steep steel steps to the dock. The dock guards stationed at each bay kept a close eye on Tyrone.
Inside a bulletproof booth, the dock master, a silver-haired government employee lifer with tufts of silver locks curling up over the edges of his dark blue cap, coldly eyed Tyrone and Coz as they approached. I swooped inside the booth and squatted beside the dock master. Even though I was inrepped, other inrepped angels could see me if they looked for me.
The dock master leaned forward against the bulletproof glass, then spoke through a patch of tiny holes so small a pencil couldn’t pass through them.
“Manifest,” the dock master said in a droll governmental drone as he pushed a sliding steel drawer under the glass window toward Tyrone.
Tyrone placed his clipboard into the metal drawer box. The dock master then pulled it forward. The dock master scanned a barcode on the bottom of the manifest page. He clacked a few keys on his computer keyboard and waited for the results to appear on the screen. He looked over the papers on Tyrone’s clipboard, then the screen flashed minutes and seconds in red LED lights.
“You’re twelve minutes late. You also drove off route,” the dock master said, peering at Tyrone.
“Yeah, freight train,” Tyrone said. “I didn’t want to be a sitting duck in that neighborhood so I kept moving.”
The dock master leered at Tyrone. He seemed to wait for Tyrone to flinch or maybe offer more information. He looked back at his computer. Coz slid his hand along his belt toward his sidearm when Tyrone covered Coz’s hand.
The dock master made notations on the manifest, put the clipboard back into the sliding drawer and shoved it back toward Tyrone with a statement-making slam.