by John Locke
I have to save Rachel, but I have nothing to work with.
She picks up on my expression. Her eyes grow wide with terror. Wait, I think. The truck!
I jump into the cab of Rachel’s truck, roll down both windows, and fire it up. These things aren’t built for speed, and it takes me most of the parking lot to get above twenty miles an hour. By then, I am closing in on the far wall quickly. I make a hairpin turn and manage to miss the wall. But that’s not what I’m hoping for. I’m trying to flip the truck onto its side. I get the truck turned around and head back in the direction we’d started in, only now I am up to thirty. I cut the steering wheel, trying to jackknife the cargo area. Two of the wheels come up slightly, but the truck rocks back into place.
Damn!
I turn again, heading back to the far wall. I cut the wheel sharply one way and then the other. Finally, the truck lurches. I slam on the brake, and it continues pitching over onto its side. While bracing myself for the impact, I pray Rachel will survive the crash.
The truck rests on the driver’s side with the passenger side straight up. I grab the shotgun from under the seat, push it through the open window, and climb out after it. I jump to the parking lot floor, grab the shotgun, and run to the back of the truck to make sure Rachel is alive.
She is!
I motion her to make her way to the back of the truck. She does. I motion her to stay there. Then I walk back to the side where the bottom of the truck is exposed and find the check valve. I pump a shell into the chamber, back up a few yards, and fire into the valve at an angle, hoping not to catch any shrapnel from the ricochet. The valve blows open. I take a deep breath. Rachel is safe.
I turn my attention to Sam. He’s lying on the floor unconscious. But at least he’s lying at the far side of the check valve. I know I don’t have enough time to flip his truck. I pump another round into the shotgun, climb under the truck, place the barrel against the check valve, and wedge the shotgun into place.
I can only think of one way to pull the trigger without getting seriously injured or killed from the shell rebound.
I remove my belt and wedge the buckle under the trigger. It doesn’t quite reach the side of the truck, which means it’s still too dangerous. I take off my pants, tie one leg around the belt, and hold on to the end of the other pant leg. I climb onto the narrow ledge on the side of the truck and pull the pant leg as hard as I can.
The shotgun fires.
I jump down and climb under the truck to inspect my work. And see a nice-sized hole where the check valve used to be.
If Sam is still alive, he’ll be okay soon.
I leave my belt but grab my pants, climb into Sam’s truck, buckle up, and head for the garage door at full speed, which is about thirty. But it’s enough to break through, and within minutes, I’m in the control room with my pants on. Since the containers were built to open from the very back, neither has suffered any damage. I press a button on the console and pop them both open. Then I walk back to check on my girlfriend and her husband.
Chapter 40
Sam is closer, so I start with him. I climb into the cubicle and hoist him out. He is unconscious but breathing, so I lay him out on the floor and go to get Rachel. She meets me halfway, and we do that movie thing where we run to each other from opposite directions and embrace when we meet. She actually squeals and jumps into my arms, and I think of Lula and Sailor in Wild at Heart.
By the time we get back to the room where I’d set Sam down, he is gone.
I know where he’ll be.
Rachel and I continue to the control room where I’d gone moments earlier to set them free. Sam is so out of it he is fairly swooning, but he sits at the computer, trying to track the money.
When Rachel and I approach, he gives her a withering look. She stiffens and leans into my side.
“I love him, Sam. You’re just going to have to deal with it,” Rachel says.
Sam ignores the remark, proving he’d rather lose Rachel than the money.
“Nothing makes sense,” he says. “My Web site’s totally trashed. I see the money in an account, but it’s an account I’ve never seen. I keep trying to access the funds, but the screen remains unchanged.”
“That’s Lou Kelly’s bank account,” I say. “The screen is locked on it.”
“So you’ve lost your money,” he says, “which means I’ve lost mine.”
“Kevin,” Rachel says, “I’d rather have you than twenty-five million any day!”
“For the love of God,” Sam says, rolling his eyes.
Rachel is about to respond, and if she’d had the chance, I would have expected some cussing to pass her lips. But she sees what we all see on one of the security monitors: someone approaching the front door.
Lou Kelly comes in first, followed closely by Callie. Lou’s arms are behind his back, which tells me Callie has twist-tied his wrists with plastic.
“It’s Karen!” Sam says.
Rachel’s back seems to arch. “I don’t want her here!” she says.
“Relax,” I say. “She’s bringing Lou back.”
“Could be a trap,” Sam says. “He’s twice her size. What’re the chances she got the drop on him?”
“A hundred percent,” I say. “Lou’s a good hand, but he’s older and partially paralyzed on his left side. Callie knows that.”
Sam sets his jaw.
I say, “Tread lightly, Sam. Callie will fuck you up.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not old or paralyzed,” he says.
We watch them on the bank of monitors. Callie nudges Lou into the hallway. Lou isn’t fighting her over it. As they’re about to enter the war room where we stand watching them, I say, “Be nice. Both of you.”
“But, Kevin,” Rachel whines.
“I mean it. You and Callie are going to be friends.”
“Fat chance,” Rachel says. “Fucking whore.”
“For once, we agree,” Sam says.
I give Rachel a look that makes her wince. She says, “Sorry, Kevin. I’ll try.”
“See that you do.”
Lou and Callie approach.
“Lou,” I say.
“Donovan.”
After a moment of us looking at each other, I say, “What was that all about, Lou?”
He presses his lips together tightly, then opens them, and takes a breath. “Ah, shit, Donovan. I can’t explain it. I would have bet I was a better person than that.”
I nod.
Lou says, “By the way, that was incredible.”
“My escape?”
“Looked like the old days, back in Europe. I should have left sooner, but I just had to watch, you know? It was like watching a movie.”
“Like Rambo or something?”
“Yeah. Like that.”
“The critics panned those shows,” I say. “But they were entertaining.”
“Sly’s one-dimensional,” Lou says. “But if a guy’s entertaining enough, one dimension’s all you need.”
I pause. “About the money …”
“I want to make it right,” Lou says. “I know things will never be the same between us, but I want to put the finances back like they were. Let me go and I’ll transfer the full three to your account.”
“Before the heist, I started with two-fifty of my own,” I say.
“I thought that was part of the three,” Lou says.
“Nope. Same with Victor. We both had two-fifty in. We get that back first, then the split.”
“If I knew that, I would have tried to shoot you!” Lou says.
“Lucky me.”
He chuckles.
Sam and Rachel look at Callie. Callie puts her hand out to Rachel. Rachel looks at me. I nod. Rachel approaches Callie and embraces her. “I’m sorry I called you a whore,” she says.
Callie bristles. “You probably should have kept that remark to yourself.”
“Well, you did sleep with her husband,” I say.
Callie says, “We can get past
that.” She smiles at me and says, “You’ve got your hands full with this one.”
Sam says, “Hey, Karen, how about a quick fuck before you hit the road?”
I kneel down and lift Sam’s head off the floor so he won’t choke on his own blood. Lou hands me his jacket, and I stuff it under Sam’s head.
To Callie, Rachel says, “What did you hit him with? I never saw you move a muscle.”
Callie looks at her but says nothing. Rachel steps slightly behind me to make herself less of a target—just in case.
Lou says to Rachel, “You can see why I surrendered so easily.”
“Lou,” I say again. “About the money …”
Chapter 41
Lou says, “I can put it back. Three point two-five billion. Take me thirty seconds. But I need your word.”
One of Sam’s fingers starts twitching.
“That’s a good sign,” I say.
Callie says, “You have a reason to want him alive? Because the only way I can get the stench off me is to end the memory.”
“I might have a use for him,” I say.
Callie cocks her head at me. “My understanding was Sam wasn’t coming out of the cage alive.”
“Look at him,” I say. “Guy’s lost his wife, his job. Don’t you think he’s been through enough?”
Callie gives me a puzzled look. In front of my chest, where Rachel can’t see, I point my thumb toward myself and move it slightly to indicate Rachel. Callie picks up on it and nods.
“Fine,” she says. “We’ll keep him alive then.”
“I might have a use for him,” I repeat.
“He’s got a mouth on him, though,” Callie says.
“I think you solved that problem already.”
To Lou, I say, “We’ve been through a lot, and like you said before, I’m running out of friends. We can’t work together anymore, but I’m willing to let you walk out of here and build a life.”
“Thank you, Donovan. I’ll transfer the money as soon as I get some distance between us,” he says.
“I’ll trust you to do it,” I say.
We shake hands.
He hesitates.
“I have your word on this, right?” he says.
“You do.”
He looks at Callie. “Are we going to have a problem?”
She looks at me and then back at Lou. “I guess not. Looks like everyone gets a free pass today.”
“Thanks, guys,” Lou says. “Old times, huh?”
“Old times,” I say.
“Uh … if it’s not too much trouble …” Lou says.
With a quickness to rival Jimmy Squint, Callie produces a knife. She cuts him loose from his plastic twist ties, and Lou walks away.
Rachel says, “You trust that guy to wire three billion to your account?”
I laugh. “I think if he had the money he would.”
“He doesn’t have the money?” Callie says.
Sam is still unconscious, but his arm is jerking in a strange motion above his chest, as though he were swatting flies in slow motion.
I say, “Remember how I told Sam to enter my code last?”
Callie nods.
“As you know, Victor is a computer genius too. He’s been working with Sam’s Web site for months. He couldn’t access the accounts without the names, but he reset all the data parameters. All the funds went to the last account entered.”
“But Lou said he personally put the money in his account,” Rachel says.
“This computer had nothing to do with the accounts,” I say. “That’s why Sam couldn’t make it work a few minutes ago. Lou was inputting data directly onto Victor’s computer screen, not the bank’s. We wouldn’t have trusted anyone with nine billion dollars and a keystroke. Not even Lou Kelly.”
“So he never saw the money at all,” Callie says. “The nine billion was just a made-up number?”
I nod. “It’s a close estimate. We won’t know how much there is until I access my account. That’s where the money is.”
“Victor trusts you to do the right thing?” Callie says.
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I would,” she says. “You may be a killer, but you’re not a crook.”
From behind me, Rachel pipes up. “Kevin is not a killer. He’s the nicest man I know.”
Callie says, “You poor thing.”
I kneel back down and check Sam’s pulse. To Rachel, I say, “He’s going to be all right. You want to go home now?”
She looks puzzled. “You mean we get to keep the house?”
I smile. “To pack some clothes. We’re going on vacation.”
“What about my job?”
“You’re quitting.”
“But—”
“Come here a sec. I want to show you something.”
I sit at the computer, log into the Citizen’s Bank Web page, and type in an account number. Rachel’s name comes up.
“That’s my name,” she says. “But I don’t bank there.”
“I opened this account for you,” I say, pulling up her balance. “Check it out.”
“Twenty-five million dollars?”
I nod.
“Oh … my … God!”
She starts dancing around the room, hopping up and down and squealing like a banshee with her first orgasm. While she does that, I access my account and check the last deposit.
“Nine billion seven hundred million and change,” I say.
“Nice haul,” Callie says.
“You and Eva have plans for spending it?”
“Not yet. We’ll kick back and enjoy our life awhile.”
“How many years can she perform?”
“Solo trapeze? If she stays injury free, one, maybe two more years.”
“She won’t stay on after she gets demoted?”
Callie smiles. “She won’t need to, now.”
Rachel’s pirouette ends. She kisses my cheek and says, “I love you, Kevin.”
“Does that mean you’ll vacation with me?”
“Can I bring my sex toys?”
“That’s my girl!”
Sam starts coming to.
“Will he be okay?” Rachel asks.
“I think so. Just to be safe, I’ll have Callie take him to a hospital.”
“Thanks, Callie,” Rachel says.
“My pleasure,” Callie says, sweetly.
Then she and I exchange a knowing look.