Bloody Bank Heist

by Miller, Tim

  Chapter 7

  One week before

  Michael sat as the large Mexican spoke to him. The room was small and stuffy. They left the air conditioning off just to make a point. The two guys standing behind him weren’t much bigger than himself, but both had guns to the back of his head.

  “So did you think being inside would erase your debt to me?” the Mexican asked. His name was Carlos Benavides. He was a high ranking Latin King. Michael had gotten mixed up with them before he got locked up.

  “It wasn’t my fault I got busted. One of your boys snitched,” Michael said.

  “I’m aware of that. But the fact is, you lost $100,000 worth of guns. Now figure that money after ten years with interest. You owe me $300,000.”

  “Jesus Christ! I been working on paying you back, but $300,000?”

  “I didn’t stutter homie. You been out a few months now and never called me. I was starting to feel abandoned,” Carlos said.

  “No man, I was just trying to get things organized. I got a plan though. I think I can get the whole thing. If not, I can get most of it.”

  “And what plan is that?”

  “It complicated, but it will work.”

  “Tell me the plan,” Carlos said.

  “Ok. I’m gonna hit this bank. I got people helping me.”

  “Who?”

  “People.”

  “What people?”

  “Why you gotta know all this?”

  “Because if you’re gonna get me my money back, I want to know how and when. Or my boys here might just have to start cutting off limbs,” Carlos warned.

  “Ok, all right. My sister and her husband. They’re broke and desperate. They’ll do anything. I set it up with them.”

  “You’re gonna hit a bank with a couple of beginners?”

  “They can do it. I been working with them,” Michael said.

  “Won’t they want a cut of the money?”

  “They think they will get a cut, but I’ll take care of it.”

  “And what’re you gonna do?” Carlos asked. “You gonna kill your own family?”

  Michael shifted uncomfortably.

  “Well? Are you?” Carlos asked again, but Michael just looked at the floor. “That’s what I thought. You ain’t got the balls to do that shit.”

  “I’ll get you your money,” Michael insisted.

  “I tell you what. You guys do the robbery. Get me my cash. Then you come see me. I’ll send my crew to do the rest. You won’t even have to get your hands dirty.”

  Michael sat there still looking at the floor.

  “It’s that, or I call and turn The Padre loose on you.”

  “The Padre??” Michael said, looking up.

  “That’s what I said.”

  The Padre was almost a legend on the streets. Some wondered if he even existed. With the stories rolling around about him, Michael hoped that he didn’t. He’d never heard someone threaten to unleash him on anyone. The Padre was short for El Padre de la Muerte, or The Father of Death. He wasn’t just a hit man. Hits were easy and simple. The Padre was called upon for special occasions where just killing a person wasn’t enough.

  He was used in sending a message. Usually that message consisted of the loss of limbs and various other body parts before actually being killed. Michael had heard The Padre hacked his own mother to pieces for burning his dinner. No telling what was actually true or not, or if Carlos was bluffing for that matter. Either way, Michael didn’t want to find out.

  “No need for that man. I got this. We’ll hit the bank, and I’ll call you. You and your guys can do whatever, but you’ll get your money,” Michael said.

  “I know that for sure.”

  “Once I pay you, are we done?” Michael asked.

  “What do you mean done?”

  “I’ve worked for you for a long time. I’ve had this over my head for ten years. Once I pay you, are we even? Can I go do something else?”

  “You get me my three-hundred grand, I don’t give a shit what you do. I won’t want to see your goofy ass again.”

  “Ok,” Michael said. “Just promise me one thing. When your guys take care of them, they’ll do it painless? I don’t want her to suffer.”

  “You have my word. Now get the fuck out of here. You got shit to do. Remember, if I don’t hear from you and that place gets hit, the Padre will be coming for you.”

  Michael stood and walked out. Once he was in his car, he looked up into his mirror. He tried not to think too much of the deal he’d just made. He and Jenny had always been close. Even in prison, she wrote to him, went to visit him and sent him whatever gifts he was allowed to receive. But this was business.

  Sure, he’d made some mistakes, but nothing that he deserved to be dismembered over. At least for Jenny and Darren, they’d go out easy. He never cared much for Darren anyway. The douchebag always looked at him like he thought he was better. Well, Darren is the loser after all. The guy can’t even keep their electric on. After he got back to the apartment, he found Jenny and Darren were there watching TV.

  “Hey,” Jenny said. “You ok? We woke up and you were gone.”

  “Yeah. I had to meet with some guys about some shit that happened before I got locked up.”

  “You’re not mixing it up with the Kings again are you?” she asked.

  “No, no way. That’s actually where I was. They been trying to pull me back in, but I told them I’m done. Time for me to go legit,” Michael said.

  “That is awesome. I’m so proud of you.” She stood and hugged him.

  “Thanks, after this job, we can all retire and be happy.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said. “I was nervous at first, but now that we’ve walked through it, I feel really good about this. Everything is going to be just fine.”

  Chapter 8

  June 10, 2013

  Darren woke up with his head pounding and his shoulders screaming in pain. He looked up to see his arms suspended over his head. Both hands were bound together, hanging over a meat hook. His feet dangled off the ground, plus he was naked. He looked around and saw Jenny hanging from a hook a few feet away from him, and Michael next to her.

  Across the room there was two other women hanging as well. He wasn’t sure if they were alive or not. They were both incredibly skinny, covered in scars and either dead or unconscious. There was a large metal table in the middle of the room covered in bloodstains.

  “What the fuck?” Darren said to no one in particular. “Jen! Are you ok? Jenny!”

  Jenny stirred as she began looking around, trying to figure out where she was and finally recognizing Darren.

  “Darren! What the fuck is going on? Where are we?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Last thing I knew we were in the house.”

  “Shit! That bank manager guy. He got loose and grabbed your shotgun. He knocked you and Michael out and made me help him drag you into his car.”

  “You helped him?”

  “He had me at fucking shotgun point. Even if I did get away, which I could have, he would have killed you and Michael,” she explained.

  “That dude was scared of his own fucking shadow. How’d we end up here?”

  “After he knocked you out, he changed. He wasn’t as big a pussy as he was acting. He was pretty sure of himself.”

  “So what the fuck is this place?”

  A steel door slid open on the far side of the room, and in walked Duncan Kincaid. He had changed out of his suit. He was wearing a set of coveralls and had on a blood stained apron.

  “Well hello,” Duncan said. “I see our new guests are awake.”

  “What the fuck is this?” Darren yelled.

  “Now, there’s no need for shouting. Besides, this room is sound proofed. No one will hear you.”

  “Let us out of here you asshole!” Jenny yelled. “Let us out now!” She began to scream at the top of her lungs. The piercing sound stung Darren’s ears. Duncan began screaming right back. Darre
n thought his head was about to explode. The noise was enough to wake Michael and the other women.

  “What’s going on?” Michael asked. “Where are we?”

  “Apparently our manager isn’t happy with our taking him,” Darren said.

  “I told you not to take a hostage. We should have killed his ass,” Michael said.

  “Will all of you shut up? God, it’s amazing you robbed my bank,” Duncan said. “But let me give you folks an idea of what you’re in for.”

  He turned and grabbed one of the other women off the hook. He lifted her over his shoulder and lay her on the table. She cried and struggled, but he hooked her restraints to an attachment at the end of the table. He grabbed her feet and then he strapped her ankles down.

  “This is Anita. She’s been a guest here for a few weeks. As you can see, I had some fun with her, but I think she’s overstayed her welcome.” He walked to a large table and flipped the tarp off, revealing several crude looking instruments. Anita screamed once she saw the tools. He grabbed a large meat cleaver from the stand and walked back over to the table. As Anita squirmed around, he grabbed her hair, pulling it away from her neck and pressing her head firmly against the table.

  “Now, this can be trickier than it looks in the movies,” he said over her screams.

  “Stop that!” Jenny screamed. “Don’t hurt her! Please!”

  “If I do this right, it won’t hurt at all,” Duncan said as he swung the cleaver chopping into her neck, but only about halfway. Anita coughed and gurgled as blood sprayed onto Duncan’s apron. He took a few more hacks until her head came free. He held the severed head up by the hair. Anita’s face was permanently frozen into a horrific scream.

  “See? In the movies, they always chop it off in one clean swipe. I’ve been doing this a long time. There’s only been a few times I could do that.”

  Jenny threw up, much of it splattering onto her bare breasts. Vomit dripped off her chin as she looked up at Darren.

  “It’s ok baby,” Darren said. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  “You’re not in the best position to be making such promises,” Duncan said.

  “Why are you doing this?” Jenny asked.

  “Why?” Duncan said. “Why? Because it’s fun. That’s why. I mean, the blood, the screaming, and the struggling. Where else do you get a thrill like that?”

  “You’re fucking sick!” Jenny said.

  “Well yeah. That’s what my guidance counselor used to tell me. Oh well. I may be sick, but I’m not the one hanging naked from a meat hook covered in my own vomit.”

  He took Anita’s head and walked over to in front of Jenny. He dug through some things against the wall and set up a tripod in front of her. Once it was set up, he took the head and jammed the neck onto the end of the tripod. As he walked away, Jenny saw the severed head staring at her.

  “There,” he said. “Now you won’t get lonely.”

  He walked back to the table and set the cleaver down. He picked up a couple of knives and began skinning Anita’s body.

  “One thing you’ll find,” Duncan said. “I’m not wasteful. Anita did not die in vain. All of her body will be put to good use. You may have noticed the leather seat covers in my Cadillac. I made those. I made my belt, and I can make lots of other cool things.”

  “You’re a sick fuck!” Darren said. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “I don’t think you will Darren. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’ve got some work to do.” Duncan turned and went back to work on the body. Darren closed his eyes, but he could still hear the squishing sound of her body being cut to pieces.

  Chapter 9

  June 10th, the morning of the robbery

  Michael sat in the car watching his sister and her husband run into the bank. Part of him felt bad for giving them both up to Carlos. Yet he knew what would happen to him if he failed to deliver the money. He looked at his watch. They’d already been in there for a minute.

  As he looked toward the bank, he heard sirens in the distance, several of them. Shit! His heart began to race as he looked back to the bank.

  “Come on!” he said. “Get out of there.”

  He looked at his watch again as the sirens grew louder.

  “Fuck it,” he said as he put the car in drive and pulled away. He pulled onto the interstate and headed to the west side of town. The drive only took a few minutes. When he pulled off the highway, he found the side street before pulling up to the run down home. As he got out, he was greeted by two Mexican gangbangers.

  “What the fuck you want man?” one of them asked.

  “I’m here to see Carlos,” Michael said.

  “Who the fuck are you? Carlos don’t take visitors, bitch.”

  “If he wants his three hundred grand, he’ll see me.”

  “Oh, you’re that dude. Where’s the money?”

  “I need to see him,” Michael said. He looked at the other man who was standing there with his arms crossed. He could see the butt of a handgun down the front of his pants.

  “Hang on,” the other guy said as he stepped inside. A minute later he came back out. “Come in, he’ll see you.”

  Michael walked into the house. It was dirty on the inside and smelled like mildew and burnt toast. He followed the man upstairs and found Carlos sitting in a room getting dressed.

  “Man, its early as fuck,” Carlos said. “Where’s my money, gringo?”

  “There’s been a problem.”

  “The only problem you’re gonna have will be The Padre.”

  “No, I was in the getaway car and I heard the cops so I got out of there. They might have made it out. I just couldn’t get caught. We were gonna go hide out at this little house north of town. Between here and Austin, it’s off the beaten path, all abandoned. They might be there now.”

  “Or the cops could have busted them. If they got out why ain’t you there getting my money?”

  “I wanted you to know what’s going on. I’ll head back out there. You might wanna send some guys behind me. So they can take care of them. Just have them hang back a bit. I’ll signal them when the money is there.”

  “Fuck that. I’ll go myself,” Carlos said. “I’ll follow you.”

  Michael got back into his car as Carlos and a couple of his men climbed into another vehicle. The two cars drove through the city as Michael led them to the house. Once there, Michael sat at the end of the lane. There was a garage attached, so he couldn’t tell if they made it there or not. They would have had to steal a car since he took the getaway car. He listened to the radio on the way there and it said the police hadn’t caught anyone yet. His sister was smart enough not to go home and they didn’t bring their cell phones.

  Carlos pulled up next to him and rolled down the window.

  “They there or what?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to go in and see. If they are here, they’d have stolen a car and parked it in the garage.”

  “Whatever man. Just go get my money,” Carlos said and rolled the window back up. Michael put the car in gear and started down the long lane. He drove slowly and looked to the house for any movement. It all looked quiet from the outside. The car bounced along the lane as he pulled up next to the garage and parked behind it.

  If they were there, he tried to think for a moment how he could come out of this without giving up his sister. He should have gone straight to the house after the robbery, but he panicked. Carlos had guys all over the city. He feared if they caught up to him later, Carlos would really have his head.

  One thing Michael was never great at, was thinking on his feet. Throughout his criminal career, he had always been a solider. If something went wrong, it was difficult for him to adjust. That was how he ended up in jail the last time. Planning wasn’t his strong suit. Even for this robbery, it was his idea, but Darren had done most of the actual planning.

  So as it stood, Carlos had him by the balls. He had no choice but to follow through for him. He could tip Darr
en and Jenny off and see if Darren could find a way out of it. But if that backfired, he would be dead anyway. He climbed out of the car and shut the door. As he headed toward the house, he thought about his hope to come out of this with his life and at least a little of the money.

  If he could do that, he’d get as far away from San Antonio as possible. Not Mexico, everyone runs there. He’d had enough of Mexican’s and Mexican gang members to last two lifetimes. Maybe he’d go to France. There was nothing there for him, other than it was really far away from Texas. Before he could finish the thought he heard the pumping of a shotgun just around the corner.

  Chapter 10

  June 10, 2013

  Darren struggled against his bindings, trying to swing on the hook to see if something would give. His wrists were raw and bloody. Duncan had used standard police handcuffs to bind them over the hooks with. The strain of his wrists, arms and shoulders supporting all his weight was almost too much for him to bear.

  He looked over at Jenny who was staring off into space. The dried vomit was crusted to her chest and her hair was matted to the side of her face. He could barely see Michael behind her. The steel door to the rest of the house was slid halfway open.

  “Baby? Baby are you still with me?” he said to Jenny. She looked around before focusing on him.

  “Hey. Yeah. I’m here. That girl. Did you see what he did to her?”

  “Yes. I did,” Darren said.

  “He put all her flesh in a bucket. Now he’s been cooking her. Can you smell it?”

  “Yes. I can. Don’t pay attention to it.”

  “He left the door cracked on purpose. He’s fucking with us. That sick asshole is in there cooking her like she’s a fucking barbecue!” She was becoming hysterical as she spoke.

  “Jenny! Will you shut the fuck up! He can hear you out there!” Michael said.

  “Jenny,” Darren said. “Stay calm, ok?”

  “He’s gonna eat us. He’s going to chop us to pieces, cook us and eat us, just like he is that girl.”

  “No, he’s not. I won’t let that happen.”