Chapter 4

Wichita, KS. Saturday, 05:42hrs CDT

 

First National Bank was downtown, the central branch located on the ground floor of a high-rise. Above were the offices of a huge law firm and a related accountant’s firm. The vault containing safety deposit boxes was in the basement. No sewer access. The floor and walls were reinforced. Impenetrable, at least in theory.

Ben pulled the van to the side of the street and parked where they could see the front door of the bank. Lights off, doors locked. Not even the janitor was there—that crew did their thing at night.

A thorough study of schematics had given them a solid plan to get in and out with minimal damage. To them, or bank property.

Time was short. They should move.

“What’s wrong?” Mei stuck her head between the front seats.

Ben climbed out. She stepped onto the sidewalk beside him without making a sound. Then huffed, and ruined any attempt at stealth. “Look, I’m sorry about that whole, ‘sheriff of the world’ thing. I’m still trying to figure this out, and I didn’t know I’d hit a nerve. Sorry.” She danced from one foot to the other while he watched.

“Is that all of it?”

“Well if you’re talking about the ‘father’ thing, I haven’t decided yet.” She bit her lip. “I should never have mentioned it.”

That conversation had taken place a week before. In Ghana. The mission had been completed but with casualties. Children. He’d been as frustrated as she. Mei, however, hadn’t been able to stop herself from demanding to know if he was her father.

Daire stepped out of the van. “You could just ask him for a DNA sample.”

“No,” she called back. “I want to figure it out myself. The old-fashioned way.”

“Okay, Sherlock,” Daire said. “Whatever you say.”

Ben’s lips twitched. The constant was-he or was-he-not her father was like being on a rollercoaster. He’d asked Mei once if she even wanted an answer, though it wasn’t a simple one. His and Mei’s lives were intertwined. Only he and one other person in the world knew exactly how. Ben didn’t want to think about her. Not when they were in the middle of a job.

Mei had said she was learning more about her history, and it wasn’t all good. There were times he hadn’t been able to protect her, something he deeply regretted. If she knew the truth she’d probably be disappointed. Ben wouldn’t blame her. He wasn’t father material.

Mei studied his face. Hair on the back of his neck prickled but not from her attention. The morning air was thick with the coming day’s humidity but held a slight chill, considering they’d just been in Venezuela. Ben zipped up his jacket and used the motion as cover, while he scanned the area around him.

Mei drew her own conclusion. “Someone is watching us.”

Daire scanned the street then looked at Ben. “Should we wait, get the breach set up better? We could create a plumbing problem. Pose as repairmen.”

Shadrach hopped out onto the sidewalk. “That’ll take extra time we don’t have.”

Ben glanced at his second-in-command. “The longer we wait, the longer those agents live with a death sentence over their heads. We have to secure the flash drive.”

He looked both ways again. A lady running with her dog. Early morning traffic. This disquiet had to be about the lingering images from his sleep. That man on the train who’d just…expired where he sat. “Let’s go.”

They crossed the street as a unit, Ben in front. Guns tucked away. The finger was in a bag in his pocket. Everything was fine.

Except the feeling was still there.

He glanced high and to the right. Saw nothing. Did the same to his left. The sun rose beyond the high-rises and cast a yellow glare against the glass windows of the building on the west side of the street. Ben followed the line of the building up to the roof as he walked. Anyone could look out those windows without being seen.

A glint from the roofline caught his attention.

“Go.”

He picked up his pace and started to run. Sniper or not, he didn’t want to risk any of them getting taken out in the street. Ben rounded the side of the building to an alley with an empty dumpster. Even the trash in this part of town was clean. The team was right behind him.

Ben clicked his watch and listened to it ring.

Remy picked up. “Security system has been disarmed.” Her voice came clear through his earpiece. Bluetooth, connected to his watch. Everyone else would hear the conversation over their comms. Ben hardly ever used them, preferring to not have the distraction of a voice in his head.

Shadrach led the way to the entry point, a fire exit door.

“Wait,” Remy said. “I didn’t do it.”

Shadrach froze, one hand about to let them inside. He keyed his radio instead. “What did you say?”

Remy answered, “The system’s down, but it wasn’t me. Someone else cut it.”

“Police?” Ben asked.

“It didn’t trigger the alarm. Whoever they are, they’re good.”

The glint on the roof could have been a lookout. Ben nodded to Shadrach, who stepped inside. If whoever was there wanted the flash drive, they’d have to fight for it.

Daire entered next. Mei stopped beside him. “What are the odds it’s the flash drive they’ve come for?”

Ben shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

The safety deposit boxes were in a separate vault, but he didn’t like the odds this wasn’t a regular robbery. The stairwell was nothing but a concrete choke point. And the only way down. Shadrach reached the bottom then disappeared.

“It’s clear.”

Mei said, “So they’ve come and gone?”

Daire shrugged one shoulder as they raced down the stairs. Where was this faster team? Not in the safety deposit vault.

Ben fried the locks with his watch, slid the box out, and flipped it open. “Empty.”

“They got here first,” Mei said. “They took the flash drive, whoever they are. And how did they get in the safety deposit box?”

“The silent alarm just tripped,” Remy said. “Get out of there now.”

“They played us.” Shadrach slid the box back.

The team raced for the door and out to the mouth of the alley, all the while watching for an ambush that would hit them on the way to the van.

Early morning traffic still flowed. How long before cop cars swarmed the street, sirens and lights going? They had to get out of there before the awkward questions ensued. He walked a fine line between law-abiding and not, usually carrying a couple of IDs on him at any one time. He didn’t like lying to cops.

“Get to the van.” Anyone watching would see them race across the street. It couldn’t be helped.

The three of them sprinted between cars, but Ben hung back at the edge of the building. He looked around the corner and up, where he’d seen the glint.

There it was again.

Whoever was up there was likely connected to the people who had taken the flash drive from the safety deposit box. They could lead him right to it. Or, if Ben’s team had been played, they would get nowhere.

Only someone connected to Eric Tiller would have known about the safety deposit box—whether the flash drive had ever been here or not.

So what was their plan?

Mei glanced back at him. “What are you—”

Daire tugged on her arm. “Keep moving.”

She said something to him, but Ben couldn’t hear it. The glint on the roof was gone now.

He backtracked and found the fire exit of that building. A man emerged, carrying a hard-sided rifle case. He wore jeans and a sweater. Military haircut. The radio on his belt trailed by wire to an earbud in his left ear.

A black and white cop car sped past the mouth of the alley, lights and sirens going. Everything about the guy said, “Expense account.” Whoever hired him had money. Not a low-class band of thieves out for a payday in downtown Wichita. This was a crew of professionals with a man tasked to stay behind and make sure there was no fallout.

So not a trap. Just first come, first served.

The guy glanced both ways and turned the corner. Ben waited. Watched him walk down the sidewalk. Two more cop cars sailed by, but no one paid the guy any attention.

Ben pulled his Colt and thumbed the safety off. He kept the barrel low by his side as he followed.

When he rounded the corner, sure enough the guy was waiting for him. That rifle case was over his shoulder, no visible weapon. “Why are you following me?”

It was risky, confronting your pursuer. Ben respected him for it.

“No trouble,” Ben said, shifting the gun so the man didn’t see it. He had a reporter ID in his wallet. “Just wanna know who you’re with.” He used his best “calm” voice. An attempt to corral any desire this guy might have had to draw and shoot, or simply flee into oncoming traffic. He didn’t need another dead body in his wake, even if he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger.

The man’s brow twitched as he looked around, nonchalant. “Who I’m with?”

“Who hired you. Your name. All the pertinent information.” He glanced at his watch. The connection between Remy and the device was open. He’d be surprised if Remy wasn’t using voice recognition to get an identity on this guy right now.

There was no familial resemblance to Eric Tiller. “What does it matter? Cops are here, job’s over.” His accent was American, no regional trace. “Did you call them?”

Ben didn’t answer stupid questions. “You put a scope on my team. Finger on the trigger. That means you explain to me who you are.”

“Who are you?”

Ben shook his head. “Start talking, or I pull out my fed ID and march you to the cops myself.”

The guy blanched. “Your…what?”

“Tick. Tock.”

“Okay.” He blew out a breath. “I’m Peter. Peter Bayleigh. We were hired to get an item from the safety deposit box in that bank.”

“And you’re all, what? Ex-military?”

“Four of us served together, now we’re a team.”

“Private security?”

Peter shrugged.

“Why are you watching us?”

Tiller had to have tipped them off, but what was the bigger play here? There was no way they’d beat his team here.

Ben could almost feel a red dot on his chest right now, but he had to shake it off. Loose information was the priority. “Who has the flash drive, and where are they?”

Peter lifted his chin. “You aren’t stealing it from us. We got it fair and square, and that money’s ours.”

If they were being paid for the job, then it wasn’t the government who’d hired them. Ben shifted the angle of his Colt again, but the guy didn’t even notice. Peter was too busy reaching for whatever was in his back pocket he didn’t want Ben to know about it.

Ben said, “Where are the others on your team?” Like he didn’t know Peter Bayleigh was about to strike.

“As if I’m gonna tell you.”

The knife flicked open and flew through the air. Ben ducked to the side, and it sailed over his shoulder. The guy was going to have to be quicker than that.

Ben lifted the barrel and squeezed the trigger. It was a lazy move, and he was kind of disappointed in himself, but the round hit the man’s left shoulder. Peter yelped and dropped his gun case to clutch the front entry wound. The bullet buried in the siding behind him.

Ben was going to have to retrieve that before he left.

“What did you do that for?”

Ben closed in. “Where are your friends?”

A breath hissed between his teeth, blood now visible between his fingers. His face contorted. “Fine. I’ll tell you.”