by Bill Craig
Miss Loretta and her friends in the Black Lives Matter movement were on the street, marching towards Tampa City Hall. The Islamic Brotherhood had infiltrated her followers and they were getting the crowd excited with their chant of ‘Black lives Matter’ as they walked. A few swung out to start smashing car windows and the plate glass windows of stores. Immediately, marchers slipped away and started to loot the stores with the broken windows.
Sirens were sounding as the alarms started going off. That would quickly draw in both the police and the National Guard. Soon, cars were being overturned and set on fire. Molotov cocktails were thrown through plate glass windows and into cars, drawing both police and National Guard troops. The guard troops opened fire, dropping several of the leaders of the march. Now, everyone was in flight or fight mode. Screaming crowds filled the streets. National Guardsmen and Tampa Police were knocked down and trampled by fleeing marchers. The city was in total chaos.
*****
Cristo and his men reached the bank just as the president stepped out and turned to lock the door. Cristo put a pistol to his head and forced the man back inside, locking the door behind them. The alarm had been disabled. Cristo knocked the man out and had one of his men duct tape him to a chair in his office after securing the combination of the vault. Dahmer was left to guard the man while the others went to hit the vault. Two of them men started emptying out the cash drawers behind the counter. Dahmer watched objectively as they did their part.
*****
“They just forced the manager back inside,” Lucy said, watching through a pair of binoculars.
“Did they lock the door behind them?” Moseby asked.
“It looks like it, yeah.”
“Then, we need to get in position to get them when they come out.”
“You did notice that there were six of them, right?”
“Then the odds should be about even,” Moseby shrugged. Lucy rolled her eyes at him, muttering something under her breath. Just then the radio went crazy with calls on the other side of town as all units were directed towards the area of the march that had turned into a major riot. “I hate it when I’m right,” Moseby growled.
“Yeah, me too,” Lucy swore, as she opened her door and stepped out onto the sidewalk cradling the Mossberg 500 with the pistol grip and extended 8 round magazine. Moseby was climbing out the other side with the M-16 in his fists. The olive drab messenger bag was hanging cross-body from his right shoulder to his left hip. They quietly closed the doors of their unmarked vehicle and started down the street towards the bank. They had no idea how long the robbers would be inside.
*****
Royce and Rawlings heard the burst of radio traffic and knew that Moseby and French had been right. Kendall Royce stepped on the gas heading towards the bank that Moseby and French had staked out.
“How much trouble do you think we are driving into?” Casey asked.
“If we survive it, I’ll let you know,” Kendall shot back, as she skidded around a corner.
“Do you mean when we face the bad guys or just the ride over?”
“Both,” Royce flashed her a white-toothed grin.
*****
Cristo looked at his watch. They had been inside for five minutes. By the numbers, they could stay another five before they needed to exit from the bank and get the hell out of the state of Florida. He had spent months planning this job. Sure, losing two men had not been part of the plan, but that was why he had backups in place.
It had been very easy, given the current political climate, to set up a diversion that would draw the police to the opposite side of town. He had witnessed it personally in Ferguson, Missouri. The former president had created so much racial tension that it had been easy to exploit it for personal gain.
For the first time since the early 1960’s, America was primed for a race war. If he ignited it here, so much the better. Cristo realized that there were white supremacist groups all over the United States, and with the advent of Black Lives Matter, it wouldn’t take much to bring either group into conflict with each other.
Cristo really didn’t care about that, however. He was just in it for the money. Enough money to allow him to retire on a south seas island with no extradition treaties with the United States. That was all he wanted.
He didn’t care who he had to kill to accomplish it. He was ready to get away from the killing fields and the hell grounds that he had spent his life in. He was sure that his men were ready as well.
*****
Moseby positioned Lucy behind a van parked two spaces behind the two vehicles that had delivered Cristo and his team. There were two men in the cars, obviously waiting for the men inside. Moseby waved for her to stay in place as he dealt with them. He walked up to the first man and leaned into the window. The wheelman looked up at him. “What the hell do you want?” he demanded. Moseby smiled and drove his fist into the man’s throat, smashing his Adams apple and leaving him to choke on his own blood.
Then, Moseby moved up to the second car and shoved his pistol against the man’s neck. “Give me the keys,” he ordered. The driver pulled out the keys and handed them to him. Moseby slammed the butt of his gun against the man’s temple and sent him to la-la land. He looked back at French and gave her a thumbs up. Lucy acknowledged it.
They both turned as they heard a vehicle skid around the corner. It skidded to a halt and they spotted Royce and Rawlings climbing out. It was good to know that they had back up.
*****
Cristo checked his watch again. They had two minutes left before they had to bug out. His men were doing their part, gathering money and gold from the Federal Reserve Bank. He walked back to the front door of the bank and looked outside. The street was as empty as he had expected. He almost had figured that the cops would have shown up en mass, despite the riot on the other side of town.
Frankly, he was surprised that the streets appeared to be clear. Cristo grinned as he called for his men to finish up. They would be on their way to various tropical paradises within the hour. That was good enough for him.
*****
Across town, the city was in flames, a total war zone as protestors, police, and the National Guard were shooting at each other. Every unit in the city except three were caught up in the nightmare of hell on earth. Captain Luke Stanley and Mario Ramirez were hunkered down behind a police car. Shattered window glass rained down on them from the car they had taken shelter behind.
“Captain, I don’t know about you, but I’m about out of ammo,” Ramirez said.
“Me too. Where the hell is everybody? Call headquarters and see if we can get some back-up and tell them to bring more ammo!” Stanley ordered.
“On it,” Ramirez called back, as he dialed headquarters not really hoping that the call would actually go through. Fire trucks couldn’t even get to the burning buildings because there was too much danger of the firemen getting shot. Flames were starting to blossom in the building behind them. If they didn’t catch a break soon, they would probably die.
The other two patrol cars, the Rover and the one stationed at the other bank were arriving just as Cristo and his men were coming out the doors. As soon as they saw the cops, they opened fire, shredding the two arriving cars with full-automatic weapons fire.
Chapter Thirteen
Moseby yelled as he saw the two cars turned into Swiss cheese by the auto fire. He stood raising the muzzle of the M-16 and squeezed the trigger. The weapon was set on full auto and a blazing stream of 5.56 tumblers shattered the glass in the front of the bank. Two of the robbers hit the ground blood spraying from their wounds. Moseby fired out the magazine.
He buttoned the empty out and slammed a full one home. He lifted the rifle to his shoulder again and was about to resume firing when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He dropped into a crouch as he turned, just to find Casey Rawlings behind him.
“Cool it, Moseby. You nailed two. So, don’t waste more ammo until you have a target,” Casey told him.
“I get that but wasting shots without a target is not going to make sure that the guys inside the bank pay for what they have done,” Casey said soothingly.
*****
“How many went in?” Kendall Royce asked Lucy French.
“Six bad guys, plus the bank manager. He was locking up when they got here,” Lucy replied, not taking her eyes off the front of the bank.
“You guys know that we’re on our own, right?”
“Yeah, we’ve been listening to the radio. Those guys in there? They’re the ones responsible for what’s going on the other side of town.”
“Yeah, I know that, too.”
“So, what is our next move?” Lucy asked. She was worried about Moseby. She had heard his primal scream just before he had opened fire on the men coming out of the bank.
It had happened too quickly for her to even be able to get off a shot. She was, also, surprised when the FBI Agent had joined her. She figured Rawlings must be on the other side with Moseby. She hoped that Rawlings could talk him down from the edge of the abyss.
*****
An armored Humvee skidded around the corner. The machine gun on top spitting out death as it reached the car where Ramirez and Stanley were crouched. A door flew open and both men jumped inside holding empty pistols. Captain Stanley looked at the driver and told him thank you. The man in the passenger seat tossed both men a box of .40 caliber ammunition so that they could reload their pistols and spare magazines as the Humvee quickly zoomed out of the war zone.
*****
Cristo swore as he and the remaining members of his crew slipped back into the bank. They had lost the two replacement shooters, but that just meant more money for the rest of them.
*****
“What’s the plan now, Captain?” Dahmer spat the words at him.
“We have a hostage, and every other member of the police department is tied up on the other side of town. All we have to do is get a good firing angle on the ones outside and after we kill them, we fade away never to be heard from again,” Cristo replied with a smirk.
“You make it sound so easy,” Dahmer said.
“It is that easy. You losing your faith, brother?” Cristo asked him, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Dahmer over the barrel of his rifle.
“Not yet, Captain, but I’m beginning to wonder,” Dahmer said.
“You best keep that wonderin’ to yourself,” Deke Wilson told him.
“I gotta agree with the captain,” Fonesco added. Dahmer looked at the other three men.
“I just want to know where we stand,” Dahmer shrugged.
“I get that,” Cristo grinned evilly.
“So, what do we do now?” Dahmer asked.
“We dig in and look for a back door,” Cristo replied. “Dahmer, you come with me. Deke, Fonesco, you keep an eye on the cops.” Cristo waved for Dahmer to lead the way as they headed towards the back of the bank. Cristo wanted Dahmer in front of him because he no longer trusted the man to have his back. No, Dahmer was now a liability and a big one. He would hesitate if it came to it and get the rest of them caught or killed. Once they were in the back, he would take care of Dahmer once and for all.
*****
Garrett Moseby was furious. Four good men, brother cops, had died because he had hesitated to fire when the men had come out of the bank. Their deaths were on him. The bank robbers were going to die. No if ands, or buts about it. It was personal for him. He didn’t care if it cost him his job or his freedom, those men inside the bank were going to die. One way or another.
“Moseby, where is your head at right now?” Casey Rawlings asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice tight.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t give a damn what you believe. Those men died because they were helping me.”
“They died because they were cops doing their jobs!”
“They should have been on the other side of town dealing with the riots!” Moseby snarled.
“They might have died over there too! You have no way of knowing!” Casey Rawlings yelled back at him.
“You two done with your mating ritual?” Kendall Royce asked, as she and Lucy French joined them.
“Shut up!” Moseby told her, his face tight.
“Chill, Garrett.” Lucy told him.
“Why?” He demanded.
“Because we have some cop-killers to catch,” Lucy shrugged.
“Yeah, I guess there is that.” Moseby said, as he seemed to visibly calm down.
*****
Cristo and Dahmer reached the back of the bank. A thick metal door stood there, one that it would be easy to unlock and slip out of, especially since the cops were only covering the front. Cristo drew his pistol. It had a suppressor screwed into the barrel. He put two rounds in Dahmer’s head and watched his body collapse to the floor.
Now that they had a way out, Cristo reholstered his pistol and walked back to the front of the bank. Once there, he clued the other men into his plan. Both men agreed with it.
Ten minutes later, they were gathered at the back of the bank next to the steel door. “What next, boss?” Deke Wilson asked. He had never liked Dahmer anyway. He had been a whiner.
“First, we set a few traps behind us, and then we get the hell out of here through that door,” Cristo replied.
“How? You find a key we don’t know about?” Fonesco asked, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Sure, it’s called C-4,” Cristo grinned.
“That works for me,” Fonesco grinned back.
“Go rig some stuff to slow the cops down and I’ll rig the door,” Cristo ordered.
*****
On the far side of town, dead bodies and the bodies of the wounded littered the streets as running gun battles between cops, the National Guard, and protestors. Wounded people were crying out for help, as they lay bleeding and broken in the street and on sidewalks. The city of Tampa had been turned into hell. Flames towered into the sky as buildings went up because firefighters couldn’t get to them due to snipers. At city hall, the mayor was pissed!
*****
Moseby moved closer to the front door of the bank and peered inside. Casey Rawlings had moved up behind him. Lucy French and Kendall Royce were approaching from the other side of the door. Moseby looked across at Kendall Royce and Lucy French. “They know we’re coming. So, watch out for traps,” Moseby called.
“Got it,” Royce called back.
“We go on three,” Moseby told her and he started to count. When he reached three, the two teams went in through the wreckage of the glass doors. It was quiet inside the bank. Moseby advanced, his head was on a swivel, eyes roving and cataloging everything he saw. Rawlings was right behind him and Kendall Royce and Lucy were spread out, deeper into the lobby. Moseby led the way towards the back of the bank.
He was the first one to find the bank president. The man was dead in a chair. A hole in his forehead and the wall behind him splattered with blood and brain matter. Apparently, Cristo and his crew had decided that the bank president was no longer needed. His fists clutched the M-16 more tightly, as he pushed forward advancing down the hallway.
Rawlings had moved ahead of him. He saw the flicker of light about ankle high and grabbed her coat collar and yanked her back. The wall in front of them exploded inward in a blast of flame and dust. He dragged her back as gunfire exploded from the other side of the blast, tearing holes in the wall and floor.
“You damn near got us both killed!” He snarled at her.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t see the trip wire,” Casey groaned.
“I did,” Moseby patted her on the shoulder. He stood and moved cautiously past the blast zone. He heard another explosion from deeper in the building. Moseby moved cautiously along the hallway. He spotted another tripwire and stepped over it. He hoped the others would spot i
t, too. He wanted Cristo, wanted him so bad that he could fucking well taste it!
Moseby moved forward. The M-16 was gripped tightly in his fists. Smoke swirled in the hallway. He could smell smoke from a fire ahead. Had the robbers torched the place? It was certainly a possibility and one that he had to give credence to. He continued to advance, prepared to find the worst.
*****
Cristo blew the back door as the first explosion sounded inside the bank. Wilson and Fonesco followed him out the door. It was time to get the hell out of dodge! Fonesco was the last one out the door and it was he who was the first to die as 5.56mm tumblers ripped through his body spraying blood into the alley. Cristo spun and fired a 40mm high explosive grenade through the doorway. He was rewarded with a gout of flames rushing out the door as Cristo and Wilson climbed into the car and quickly skidded out of the parking lot.
*****
Moseby looked back as another explosion ripped through the building. He glanced over his shoulder hoping that it wasn’t Lucy that had tripped the latest trap.
“Everybody okay?” Moseby called back behind him.
“Royce is down,” Lucy called back. Moseby snarled in rage. He had liked Royce even if he hadn’t admitted it. She had proven to be a good egg.
“Be careful!” he called over his shoulder. Moseby moved forward.
“I’m always careful.”
The robbers were gone, but he spotted the van as it rolled out of the alley behind the bank. Moseby lifted the rifle and fired, shattering the rear windshield and then he took off at a run around the corner, trying to keep the van in sight. It fishtailed out into the street and Moseby ran for his car. He dove in, cranked the engine and tore out in hot pursuit. He was not about to let these assholes get away!
Cristo looked back in the rearview mirror. The cop with the M-16 was chasing them. Who the hell was this guy? He put the gas pedal to the floor and the van surged forward. Fonesco turned in his seat and raised his gun, shoving it over the seat and firing at the car behind them. The car swerved out of the way and kept coming. Luckily, there was no traffic on this side of town and the streets were clear because the rioting on the other side of town continued.