Late at night and with the Rally over, the town hall looked forlorn. Both glass-fronted bulletin boards outside had been emptied of notices, and a padlocked chain connected the twin ten-foot doors. I leaned against the wooden rail that bordered the hall’s veranda. Soon I saw the headlights of Daryll’s GMC Yukon approaching. It double-parked in the angled spaces on the far side of the lawn. Daryll and Rigoberto got out and made their way along the flagstone path. Daryll’s limp had improved. He wore layers of flannel shirts over jeans, and heavy work boots with steel caps to protect his toes.
Rigo was more streamlined in Nike gel-soles and running gear, a black compression shirt, and shorts, as if it weren’t fifty degrees out. His short sleeves revealed a mural of tattoos, including a faded blue one on his forearm. The outline of a badge. He also wore a wedding ring, which hadn’t been on his hand at the card game.
“You two the advance guard?” I said.
“We’re early,” Rigo said, stopping at the bottom of the veranda stairs. “Captain Fain told us you let the skinheads get away.”
“Captain Fain needs to get his head clear. He said he wanted the drugs secured. They’re secured.”
“So you say.” Daryll crossed the veranda to sit on the railing opposite me. “How do we know you won’t sell them yourself?”
“You don’t. Just like I don’t know whether all the money you guys rip off from HaverCorp ends up with the Rally or in your own pockets.”
“Check that,” said Rigoberto, raising his chin. “You damn near accusing us of stealing from brothers. That’ll get your ass kicked all over this yard.”
“A crusader.” I turned to Daryll. “You, too?”
“You know it. The general’s righteous.”
The righteous fight. Protect the Ranger at your side, defend those who can’t defend themselves. An ethos founded far more on the people you loved than on abstract concepts like patriotism or democracy. That attitude made the job—the direct and calculated killing of the enemy—possible. Believe in it, and you stood a better chance of returning home mentally and morally intact. I had believed.
Rigo and Daryll and maybe the rest of them bought into that same philosophy for the Rally. If it served the mission and the men, their actions were justified.
I pointed at Rigo’s badge tattoo. “Cop?”
“I was, before the Army. Maybe again someday.” He cocked his head to one side. “What’s your job?”
“Still figuring that out,” I said.
“Don’t throw in with us expecting to get rich,” Daryll said. “The general gives us a cut to pay our bills, but that ain’t what this game’s about.”
“So what’s in it for you, besides charity? Do you miss the action?”
“Some,” Rigoberto said. “How can you not miss what you’re the best at?”
I almost laughed. Way to turn the question around, Rigo. I’d been wrestling with that same question ever since I’d returned to Seattle, even if it was a different kind of action that tempted me.
A Lincoln Town Car pulled in next to the parked Yukon. Fain was driving, Leo and Zeke Caton and General Macomber along for the ride. I didn’t think their team had any hostile inclinations. But my skin prickled at the potential danger anyway.
“Shaw,” Fain said. He took a set of keys from his pocket to remove the padlock and chain, opening the doors into the cavernous space. Leo’s lip was swollen. Damage I’d inflicted, even as his older bruises were finally healing up. I felt a twinge at the sight of the new scab hiding the corner of his mouth.
“I assumed we wouldn’t require Aaron,” the general said to me as our group entered. “I’ve sent him and Schuyler to stay with relatives until we can be assured they’re safe.” He flipped the row of light switches with one hand. The chandeliers high above our heads sparked to dim life, energy-saving bulbs brightening slowly.
“Pulling more information from HaverCorp’s databases won’t change things,” I said, crossing to one of the large tables that had been pushed against the wall. “Help me move this.”
Rigo acted first. He and I carried the table to the center of the floor. The men gathered around it.
“Let’s talk objectives, General,” I said. “Jaeger’s seen me. He knows your son and his wife, and he can probably trace Aaron’s relation to you, given time. We know he’s killed before and he’s promised to do so again.”
Macomber frowned. “I’ve already told you stopping Jaeger is my concern. Or don’t you believe me, Shaw?”
“I believe you. But I also think eleven million dollars is enough to dazzle anybody. Enough to prop up your Rally for years.”
“Go on.”
“I don’t give a shit if you get the money or not. My priority is stopping Jaeger before he murders the guards or anyone else. I think we can do that. Maybe the Rally gets rich, too. But if you want my help you’ll have to put Jaeger first, even if it means losing a chance at the cash.”
Macomber met my gaze for a long moment, then looked around the table at Fain and the others. “I want your opinions, men. Jaeger’s a threat, but Aaron and Schuyler are safe from him now. Don’t let that influence you.”
“Eleven million could do a lot of good, sir,” Fain said.
“My thought exactly,” Zeke Caton said. “Can’t we hit the truck and track Jaeger down after?”
Rigo was already shaking his head. “Then the Nazi fucks will pick another cash truck from the list. We can’t guess which. Those guards will be just as dead.”
“That could work for us, too,” Daryll said. “Picking another truck, I mean, not killing guards. We nail Jaeger. If we miss out on the money this time, we’ve got a lot of other trucks on that list.”
“Not carrying millions,” said Fain, “but it’s a good option. I can get behind it. Pak, we haven’t heard from you.”
Leo spared me a glance before he answered.
“We go for Jaeger,” Leo said, “and I won’t vote on the other. This is my last jump with the Rally.”
Every one of them had an immediate response. Daryll and Zeke swore, and Rigo folded his arms. Macomber took a deep inhalation that communicated a similarly fathomless disappointment. Fain simply stared.
“What’s that shit about?” said Zeke.
“Pak. We need you,” Fain said.
Daryll bumped Leo’s shoulder with a ham-sized fist. “Come on, man.”
“This may be our last such mission, regardless,” said Macomber, defusing the unexpected tension. “Let’s make it count. Shaw, we’re agreed that Jaeger is our primary target. What do you have in mind?”
I took a map from my pocket, unfolded it, and spread it out on the table. The map had been in one of the seat pockets of the Dodge since Dono’s time, long before mobile apps had made it a relic. Some of the streets it listed were years out of date. Still, it would illustrate my idea.
“Fuckin’ Antiques Roadshow,” Daryll said, touching a crease where the paper had split.
“Seattle,” the general said, reviewing it. “And those lines you’ve drawn . . . the route of the bank truck.”
I nodded, pointing to the far edge of the map. “The Federal Reserve branch is all the way down here in Renton. But the Prime Banks on its route are all in Seattle proper. Starting on Rainier Ave, working northward through the city, and then back south for the second half.”
“You want to throw in with us?” Zeke said. “’Cause we can handle things just fine without some cherry getting in our way.”
I gestured to the inked lines of the route. The lines forming a closed and randomly spiky shape like a piece of abstract art. “Tell me where you’d hit the truck.”
“First stop,” Zeke said without hesitation, tapping the first dot on Rainier. “When all the money’s still in the truck.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s run the numbers. The armored truck is scheduled to roll up on its first stop at eight-fifty in the morning, right before the bank opens. That’s rush hour on a five-lane thoroughfare. Not quite bumper-to-bumper, not on Rainier, but plenty of movement. Lots of eyes on you. Cops cruise the central district arteries about every thirteen minutes, on average. Traffic cameras at many intersections, too. Eleven million dollars in fifty-dollar bills weighs about four hundred and fifty pounds, in sixteen different bags if we assume one bag for each bank branch that day. So a rough guess is that you’ll be exposed between four and five minutes while you ride up, secure the guards, open the truck, unload, and exfil. Meanwhile, everybody on the street with a cell phone will be live-streaming the show.”
They were silent, and staring. I caught the hint of a smirk on Leo’s face.
“How the hell do you know all that?” Fain said.
Zeke recovered enough to sneer. “He’s bullshitting us.”
Leo scratched his head bemusedly. “If Van says it, it’s solid.”
“You suddenly on his side now?” Zeke said.
“Always was,” Leo said. Fain frowned.
“Shit, I’m convinced,” Rigoberto said. “Forget the Rainier branch.”
“You’ve made your point, Shaw,” said Macomber. “We haven’t done the recon. Not yet.”
“There’s more,” I said. “You don’t know where Jaeger is going to make his play, either. If he gets to the armored truck before you, you’re screwed and the guards are dead. If you get the money first, Jaeger misses his chance but he’s still running around free.”
“Not acceptable,” said Macomber.
“And if you both try for the truck at the same time . . .” I shook my head. “Bloodbath.”
“Do you know where he’s gonna be?” Rigo said. Honestly asking, without the sarcastic tone of Zeke’s.
“Forget predicting the future,” I said, “or taking the money before Jaeger is neutralized. We should hijack the armored truck instead. Two of us will replace the guards. We deliver any drops ourselves. And when Jaeger makes his move, we catch that son of a bitch right in between us.”
“You’re including yourself in this plan?” Macomber said, breaking the stunned silence.
“I am.”
“How do you intend to take over the truck without anyone noticing?” he said. “Much less stand in for the guards.”
“Pretending to be the hopper is the easy part. I know enough about the procedure for making money drops to fake it. No bank will think twice about a guard delivering the expected amount of cash. But I won’t have to play that game for long, if at all. Jaeger will have the same bright idea as Zeke, to hit the truck early in the day. More money for him. As for how to boost the truck, let me worry about that.”
“That move might protect the guards,” Leo said. “It won’t protect you if Jaeger shoots first.”
“I’ll be ready for him.”
“And maybe I should cover your six, Sarge.”
I looked at Leo. “Thanks.”
“It would be better if we could figure where Jaeger will strike,” Fain said, following the inked lines of the route with his finger, “and be waiting there.”
“He’ll have to hit the truck when its doors are open,” I said. “That’s the only time the truck is vulnerable. Stopping it on the street between the banks would leave him with a giant safe he can’t crack. I’ll case the banks on the route tomorrow and pick the likeliest branches.”
“I hope you have as much experience as you imply,” Macomber said. “We’re risking a lot on your word.”
“I wasn’t always a soldier.” I turned to Fain. “I can show you a picture of Jaeger from his fake license. If your team is rolling just ahead of the truck, you might be able to spot and intercept him before the truck even comes close.”
The general smoothed a crease in the map as he mused. “Jaeger had three of his men at the house, Aaron said. John will have five with him, counting Shaw.”
“Four who are mobile,” said Fain.
“I can still drive,” Daryll said, shifting on his broken foot.
“Those aren’t odds I like,” Macomber said, “not with nonlethal weapons. Jaeger might enlist more men.”
“A compromise, sir,” Fain said. “We go with M4 carbines with under-barrel grenade launchers attached. The guns give us the intimidation factor and live rounds in case we need them. The launchers will have sponge grenades if we have to take Jaeger’s men down hard.”
Hard was the right word. A sponge grenade wasn’t nearly as benign as it sounded, a foam-rubber bullet the size of a plum that could rupture a spleen or shatter a jaw at fifty yards. At closer range, it could kill.
The general grimaced. “That’s a single-shot weapon.”
“Ideally we won’t need to use even that,” said Fain. “And we’ll also have the bigger launchers, the Milkors.”
“These are city streets,” I said. “How will you hide the guns?”
Fain raised an eyebrow. “You worry about the truck. I’ll deal with the arms.”
I didn’t love the idea of Fain’s team rolling into Seattle with assault weapons and 5.56mm rounds. But it would be pointless to argue against it, not to mention hypocritical. Against Jaeger and his pack of rabid dogs, I would have lethal measures as my backup, too.
“What about the money?” Zeke said to me.
“Once Jaeger’s bagged and tagged? I walk away. The rest is up to you.”
“Really. You don’t want any part of eleven million bucks.”
Fain came around the table to stand in front of me. “Our team’s down one man, Shaw. We need you to help cover us. Four minutes in the open, you said.”
“Which is why I’m telling you to nail Jaeger and get the hell out. Forget the cash.”
“You’d leave brothers in the field?”
“It isn’t the field,” I said, “it’s a crime scene. And that’s my specialty.”
“Enough,” said Macomber. “Stop Jaeger. Acquire as much of the cash as you can manage, with the men you have.” He frowned in my direction. “We have arrangements to make and not much time. John, we’ll regroup in the morning.”
“I’m headed to Seattle tonight,” I said. “My arrangements are there.”
“One thing I don’t get,” Rigoberto said as I started folding the map. “We hogtie Jaeger like a Christmas present for the cops. So what? He can just claim he’s an innocent bystander.”
“We’ll leave enough evidence at the scene to send him away for life.”
“Life for robbery?” Rigo frowned.
“For the murder of the HaverCorp guards in Nevada. I’ve got Jaeger’s stolen drugs. And his jacket, and a few items with his fingerprints, including the fake license with his photo on it. One hundred percent chance that asshole is already in the system.” I walked toward the door. “We’re going to frame him for his own crime.”