Chucky and Danese are the first to leave the building. They are strong men and what any fool would call motivated, and they have all they can do to carry the loot. They hoist it into the van and return for more. Chucky is a little miffed with Danese because, though he did save the day by forcing the nervous crew out of the van and into action, he didn’t bring as many satchels and duffels as they could have used, or enough to match the money Chucky gave him. Danese probably gambled it away, Chucky figures.
On the other hand, Chucky says years later, “Who knew there was so much to take?” He has known about the operation for three years, and he has always been certain it would be a good score, but it was not his to make—not without permission. It would be disrespectful, and no doubt suicidal, to act otherwise. He later tells friends that there was so much in those safe deposit boxes, the entire crew could have spent the day trying to empty them, and even then they might not have been able to finish the job.
One of the crew brings out a big green duffle bag crammed with so much loot that he has to drag it. The others who follow do the same. Out of the vault, down the hallway, and out the front door to the sidewalk, where he props it upright against the reopened doors of the van, then bends, lifts, and heaves the bag aboard, sweating and straining.
The dragging and straining and bending and lifting are repeated until all but two of the duffle bags have been muscled aboard. The big van sags under the load. Two remaining satchels go into Byrnes’s Chevrolet Monte Carlo.
The van moves off so the loot can be transferred to the other three cars. There are only minutes left now.
The first man into Bonded Vault is the last man out, so it’s time for Deuce to wrap things up. He turns to his hostages, tells them he has taken Sam Levine’s driver’s license so he’ll know where to find him if they don’t all follow his instructions now.
Deuce was going to just lock everyone in the vault, but Sam Levine said closing the vault door before the programmed end of the business day would trigger the silent alarm, partly a precaution against theft and partly for safety’s sake.
Deuce asks his captives if they need to use the bathroom. The pillowcases all nod quickly and in unison.
“Good,” he says, “’cause you’re all going.”
Then he marches his six captives into a tiny toilet stall adjoining the main office. Deuce squeezes everyone inside, shuts the door, and jams a chair under the doorknob.
He leaves the building quickly but not at a run. Byrnes is sitting in his black Monte Carlo at the curb. The car travels only a short distance when Deuce tells Byrnes the car seems to be dogging it. The front of the vehicle is nosed sharply upward, and its rear bumper is only inches off the roadway.
Byrnes looks at him and says, “It’s all that weight in the trunk. The silver bars are in there.”
“Oh, yeah” Deuce says.
He throws his head back and laughs aloud for the first time all morning.
“The bars of fucking silver are in the trunk!” he screams pounding the dashboard. “I hear ya! I hear ya!”