Revenge Story Read online

  “Don’t call me ‘captain’. I’m not in the Army anymore. And how the hell do you know all this stuff?” Ray asked. “Are you with the C.I.A. or something?”

  Ben chuckled. “No. But I do have connections with people who know how to do these things professionally. I know a guy up in Seattle who can create solid identities that will pass muster anywhere, but he’s not cheap. We’ll worry about that later. I say we finish our food and then check out the Ray and Karen Show.”

  “Yeah,” said Ray. He groaned. “You mean the TV news. You recorded it.”

  “I figured you’d want to see yourself on television,” said Ben. He winked and smacked Ray on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. I’ll help you out.”

  “Thanks, Ben. I want to ask a question though.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Did you know about our troubles when Karen called you?”

  “I had just heard it on the morning news when she called. No worries. Think I wouldn’t have helped you? Shit, you saved my ass twice in Iraq. I know that.”

  “I don’t want you to get into trouble, that’s all.”

  Ben drained the last of his coffee and headed for the living room. “Let me worry about that, okay?” He switched on the television. “Showtime,” he said.

  Ray followed him out to the living room and took a seat on the couch next to Karen.

  The news was just starting and it began with them.

  “The fugitive couple was last seen at the Mercy Medical Center in Roseburg,” said the newscaster in a deep voice. “They are driving a large U-Haul moving truck.” A license plate number flashed on the screen. “If you see these people, do not approach them yourself. Call 911 immediately. They are considered armed and extremely dangerous.” A picture of Ray dressed in his Army uniform appeared.

  “Oh, shit.” Ray said.

  Ben shut off the television when the news program moved on to another story. “You’re going to have to ditch that moving truck,” he said. “I can follow you out to the main highway after dark. Just dump the thing on the shoulder out there and then I’ll bring you back here. After that, we can figure out what to do.”

  Karen hobbled into the spare bedroom to rest. Ray got up and cracked the door to check on her. She smiled up at him and then pulled the covers over her shoulders and closed her eyes. He shut the door quietly and turned to Ben.

  “Is she sick?” Ben asked.

  “No,” said Ray. “It’s from her miscarriage. The doctor says she’ll be okay in a few days. They had to operate, but the incision’s only an inch wide.”

  Ben went to the front door. “No thanks to that fuckin’ cop,” he said. “Come on outside to the barn, Ray. I want to show you something.”

  They walked out to the second barn, the one without the truck, and Ben led him inside. There were a few stables and the smell of hay and manure, but no animals. “I sold the horses a few months back,” he explained. “Couldn’t afford their feed anymore.” He reached up and pulled down a hinged ladder that led to a loft above the main floor. “Come on up,” he said.

  Up in the loft, Ray saw several portable storage closets built along the outside walls and a dressing table with lights mounted all around the mirror, like the ones actors used in their dressing rooms. “What the hell is all this?” he asked.

  Ben turned to him and smiled. Then he reached up and pulled off his wig and fake beard, laying them on the dressing table. “Surprise,” he said. He was now a man with short blond hair and clean-shaven.

  “What the fuck? Are you an actor or something?” Ray said. “At least I recognize you now.” He picked up the wig, looked at it for a moment, and then dropped it on the dressing table.

  “I’m not an actor, but you’re close,” said Ben. “Get set for a shock, man. I rob banks. I had a partner for a while, but after our last job, he got cold feet. He took his share of the money and left town.”

  “You’re a fucking bank robber?” Ray’s mouth fell open. “Are you crazy? Is this like a joke or something?”

  “No joke, Ray. Don’t worry. I’m not planning to knock off banks as a lifelong career. In fact, one or two more jobs and I can retire.”

  “Why the hell are you robbing banks?” Ray said.

  “Like Willie Sutton once said, that’s where the money is.” Ben sat down on a nearby chair and stared intently at the floor. “This is how it happened. My wife left me a couple of years ago and ran off with my fucking veterinarian, Ray. My vet, for chrissakes! She took everything and then she sold the house we had in Eureka and moved to Florida with him. I was even on the streets for a while. I got tired of it.”

  “You mean you bought this little ranch with...”

  “That’s right. My ex-partner and I hit a branch bank in Crescent City for almost eighty grand. I used my share to put the down payment on this place. Then I used the money from the other jobs to pay it off. It’s mine free and clear now.”

  “Other jobs? How many banks have you robbed?”

  “A few. And they all went off smooth as a baby’s ass.”

  “How many, Ben?”

  “Six.”

  “How long has it been since the last time?”

  “You mean since the last time I hit one?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Almost a year,” said Ben, waving offhandedly. “It’s dangerous to work alone and all you’ll get from robbing a single teller is maybe two or three thousand. It isn’t worth the risk, although lately I’ve considered trying it anyway. I don’t have much money left.”

  “And you’re telling me all this for a reason?” said Ray.

  “How the fuck do you plan to raise enough money to get out of the country? You could try standing on a freeway ramp with a sign and begging for change, but it might take a while that way.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” said Ray.

  Ben stood up and went over to one of the closets against the wall. “You need a lot of money, Ray. At least twenty grand for the passports and enough to live on for a long time. And we’re both in the same boat. I have to get out, too.”

  “You mean leave the country,” Ray said.

  “Yes. And I have a good reason. That ex-partner of mine came out of retirement recently. He’s out there right now pulling more jobs again with someone else. I saw his picture in the newspaper last month from a bank camera shot. If that little weasel gets caught, he will point the cops at me and work a deal with the prosecutor. I can’t take that chance. I’ve got that connection for passports, but I don’t have enough money to buy one yet. Same as you.” He opened one of the closets and stepped back. “But I do have the tools to get all the money we need,” he said, pointing to the contents inside. “Check it out.”

  Ray Morris’ eyes went wide. He saw a row of assault rifles, shotguns, several pistols, and other weapons, mostly military types, stacked neatly in the closet. Along the bottom of the closet were dozens of boxes of ammunition in different calibers. Ray reached inside the closet, picked up one of the rifles, and hefted it. “Where in the hell did you get fully-automatic M-16’s?”

  “Where do you think I got them? I robbed a fucking National Guard armory, that’s how. Over in that other closet is an M-60, an old Vietnam-issue M-79 grenade launcher, and a Browning Automatic Rifle.”

  “You’re nuts,” said Ray. He replaced the M-16 in the closet and took a step back. “No way. I don’t want any part of this. And don’t tell Karen. She will freak out.”

  “You think I’m nuts? You’d better check into the Reality Hotel there, Ray. When the cops show up for a bank alarm, do you think you can just walk out the door and drive off to Happy-Happy Land by pointing a straw and a spitball at them?” Ben laughed. “They carry shotguns and Glocks, and sometimes they come with their own assault rifles. And don’t forget they wear body armor, too. They’ll take your ass down and quick. This is the only way to even things out. I even have a few M-183’s around here.”

  “Satchel charges?”

  “Th
e same.”

  “You’re a fucking criminal. You know that?” Ray said.

  “So are you.”

  “Yeah, Ben. But there’s a difference. I didn’t choose to be one. You did.”

  Ben Cummings raised his palms. “Maybe so. We can argue the finer points of criminal morality all day. But up until now, I haven’t hurt anyone doing it. You, on the other hand, beat the shit out of a state cop and if they catch you, they’ll hang you out to dry for at least twenty years. They also have you on kidnapping, and that’s bad. You’re running out of options.” He sat down and pulled open a drawer at the dressing table. He took out a bottle of scotch and two glasses and poured each of them a drink. “The way I see it,” he said, “you have three choices. You can turn yourself in and throw yourself on the mercy of the court. Or you can go on the run with your fifteen hundred bucks and take your chances.”

  “What’s the third choice?” Ray said, picking up the drink and downing it.

  “You can be a man about it. That’s what. The system screwed you, right? Instead of letting them move up to outright rape, maybe it’s time you gave it right back to them.”

  “I don’t want to kill anyone,” said Ray.

  “Neither do I, buddy. It’s bad for business. But you should prepare yourself for that possibility. Have no illusions, Ray. If you rob banks for a living, there’s always the chance you’ll have to shoot your way out of trouble. And maybe a time will come when you have to decide whether it’s you who ends up dead on the pavement – or them.”

  Ray reached for the bottle to pour himself another drink. “I’ve got to talk to Karen about this first.”

  “I figured. You got enough gas in that moving truck to make it back to the highway later?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. You talk to her today. After it gets dark, we’ll get rid of the truck. Maybe you should go in and talk to her now if she’s awake. I’ll wait out here in the barn for a while.”

  “Tell me what you have in mind first.”

  “Money. A lot of it.”

  “I want to hear the details.”

  “Whatever you say. But first, maybe you’d better to talk to Karen alone. I’ll wait here.”

  Chapter 3

  Karen Morris stared at Ray in shock and sat down on the couch. “He’s robbing banks? And he wants you to help him?”

  Ray sat down next to her and nodded. “Actually, he wants both of us to help. You would be the driver. He offered you a full share, which means we get two-thirds of the proceeds.”

  Karen got up and switched off the television. “And what if I say no? We’re not criminals, Ray. I haven’t stolen anything since I was six years old, and that was when I took a dollar from my mother’s purse. And people sometimes get shot robbing banks, you know.”

  “Well, what the hell do you expect me to do then?” Ray said in a louder voice. “How far do you think we can get on fifteen hundred dollars and no vehicle? Fuck!” He slammed a palm against the arm of the couch. “We’re screwed if they catch us! Our word against that cop’s. Who do you think the jury will believe?”

  Karen sat back on the couch and shook her head. “I don’t know. I have to think about this, Ray. I’ll give you an answer when you two come back from dumping the truck.” She laid her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

  “Look,” said Ray. “I’m not sure I want to get involved either.”

  “Sounds like you do. Maybe we should talk to a lawyer before doing anything crazy. Hear what he says. Maybe it’s not as bad as we think.”

  “We could do that,” said Morris.

  “How many banks has he robbed, anyway?”

  “Six, he said. He’s certainly equipped for it.”

  “What do you mean?” said Karen.

  “He has a converted loft in that second barn where he keeps stuff,” said Ray.

  “What stuff?”

  “Guns. Enough to equip an infantry squad. And a dressing table for putting on disguises.”

  “Oh my God,” said Karen. “Are we safe with him? Do you trust him?”

  Ray put his chin in his hands. “I trust him. We fought side-by-side in Iraq and we saved each other’s lives a couple of times. It was my platoon, but the men were really his, you know. He was my top sergeant.”

  “I remember,” said Karen. “You kept mentioning him in your letters. But look at what he’s doing now. And what about that thing in Fallujah? You said maybe he was shooting civilians there.”

  “He might have,” said Ray. “I never found out for sure. I don’t think that matters now. What’s going on with him now isn’t all his fault I guess. He said his wife left him for the veterinarian and took everything. He has his reasons, and he hasn’t hurt anybody yet,” said Ray. “He says he hasn’t, anyway.”

  Karen shook her head. “So if we do this and get a lot of money, then what?”

  “He knows a guy in Seattle who can get us clean passports. Then we can leave the country and never come back. He wants to get out, too. It’s a long story.”

  “I’ll bet. I have to think,” said Karen. “Until then maybe you should start going through the truck and take out anything we absolutely need before you guys get rid of it. It’s going to be dark in a couple of hours.”

  Ray headed for the door. “Okay.” He started to open it, and then walked back over to her. He took her in his arms and gave her a hug. “I don’t know what we’re going to do yet,” he whispered in her ear, “but I love you. I’m sorry I got us into this mess.”

  “Love you, too,” she whispered back. “It’s not your fault, Ray. But you’d better know what the hell you’re doing.”

  Ray and Ben spent the rest of the afternoon unloading critical items from the truck and moving them into the other barn, the one without a loft full of weapons. As they worked stacking up boxes along the walls, Ben laid out his plan.

  “First National in Eureka,” he said. “I’ve been casing that one. A whole lot of people use that bank between the first and the fifth of every month to cash their paychecks. The bank gets one or two large cash deliveries the first week of the month, and before major holidays.”

  Ray dropped a particularly heavy box into one corner and wiped the sweat from his face. “A lot of banks do that,” he said.

  “Yeah, but most of the people who go to this particular bank with their checks are getting cash for them, not making deposits. Loggers, people like that. So they stock up enough cash to cover them all. And the biggest logging outfit in the area has payday coming this Friday, along with most of the local businesses. Then the bars start filling up. I want to hit that bank on Friday morning, right when they open. Labor Day weekend starts the next day and that bank will be jazzed with cash.”

  “That’s only a couple of days away. How sure are you about all this money?” Ray said.

  “I started doing surveillance on them a few months ago. When the fifth of the month falls on a weekday, an armored car crew takes in six heavy bags just before closing time the day before, so they can cover the cash requests the next day. I figure the Thursday before Labor Day weekend has to be one of their biggest cash deliveries of the year. We hit them on Friday morning.”

  “So why don’t we just take this money from the guards while they’re still outside the bank?”

  Ben jumped down out of the truck. He put an arm around Ray’s shoulder. “Lesson number one rookie. Armored car guards have guns and they will fight you hard for the money. Two of them actually make the delivery into the bank. But they also have a third guard watching from inside the truck who will shoot you to pieces through the gun ports. Bank tellers and branch managers don’t have guns, and they won’t fight you for the money.” He picked up a box from the ground and stacked it up over in the corner, on top of the one Ray had just placed. “In fact, they’re not even allowed to fight you for the money. Insurance rules.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Ray.

  “Now you do,” said Ben. “However, they wi
ll set off the silent alarm the first chance they get. So you can’t spend any more than ninety seconds inside the bank after you throw down on them, because in two minutes, maybe three, the cops are going to be all over the street. Remember that.”

  “You’ve been doing these robberies military-style, haven’t you?” said Ray.

  “Yeah. Remember when we kicked down doors in Iraq looking for weapons or IED’s and we would take over the place while we were searching?”

  “Sure,” said Morris.

  “It’s sort of like that – except you’re looking for money instead.”

  They finished unloading the moving truck just as the sun was going down. When they returned to the house, Karen was busy in the kitchen.

  “I made up some dinner for us,” she said, laying out some hot plates of mashed potatoes and fried hamburger.

  The two men sat down to eat.

  “So you rob banks, is that it Ben?” Karen asked.

  Ben shrugged and dug into his food. “Sure,” he said. “It’s not something I plan on doing forever, though. Are you mad at me about it?”

  Karen sat down with the men and gave both of them a hard eye. “No, but Ray says you want us to help you. I might have a problem with that. I don’t want my husband getting killed robbing banks.”

  Ben laid down his fork. “Look, you two need to work this out on your own. Both of you are in a hell of a lot of trouble as it is. So am I. My ex-partner is out there doing stupid things and he’s going to get caught eventually, I’m sure of it. When he does, he will turn me in for those robberies we did together, just to save his own ass.”

  “What does that have to do with us?” Karen said.

  “We’re all in the same boat,” said Ben. “We need to get out of the States for good or all three of us are going to prison. The only way for us to get out is to put our hands on a large amount of cash.”