Every minute we keep this junk in the van we’re rolling the gawl-darned dice, and I wanna get money in our pockets a’fore we get snake-eyes. Now move!”
“Shit,” Jake mumbled under his breath as he pulled on the door handle, “let the nerd drive, suddenly he thinks he’s General George Patton inna fucking desert.”
He hiked out and started flipping through pages in the phone booth’s white pages, his lips still moving and mumbling the whole time.
“Methinks you’re going to want to cool your temper, Mitchell, if you wish us to avoid undue attention.”
“Aw, shuddup Monty. I shoulda never let Jake talk me inta something like this, after what happened last time.”
I waited a second to see if he’d continue. “What do you mean, ‘last time’? Are you referring to our last caper as the Cadre of-”
“No, moron. Not back when we were a bunch’ve snotnosed kids tryin’ to prove we were good as the A-team heroes. I’m talking about six months ago. Jake there drops by- we’ve kept up, off and on, over the years. Anyways, he drops by, and sez to me, ‘Hey, buddy! Get your little freeze gun! I know where some low-level crime guys drop off a million bucks every Tuesday. All I need is someone I can trust to drive the truck when I walk off with the bag of money.’ Well, I’m hard up that month, so I figure: why not? Better that dough is in my pocket paying for my granddaughter’s year in bible college than getting turned around and invested in drugs or worse.
“Well, skinny-ass over there tells me just where to park, tells me to wait with the engine running and the passenger door unlocked and open. He gets out, goes into this run-down bar that looks like it shoulda been condemned back when Hanoi fell. Five minutes later, he comes back out, leadin’ this walking side of beef who’s wearing a leather jacket and got that glazed look in his eye that the security guards had when Jake used to mess their heads up.
“That doesn’t sound unreasonable. Was the money spendable?”
“I’ll never know. Stupid little f...stupid moron didn’t check to see if there was anyone else who might make trouble. Soon as that goon loaded the moneybag in the back seat, I hear someone yell ‘Hey, stop!’ Jake jumps into the back seat, screaming ‘Go! GoGoGoGO!’, and off I go like a bat outta Hades. I’m floorin’ it through this rundown section of the city, praying to God that those mooks are too angry and too stupid to catch a description of my face or Monty’s. They ended up chasing us- and here’s me, trying to drive and blast Winterbeam at the same time to try and ice up the ground behind us without making us crash at the same time.”
“Did they trace the car?”
“Nope. Jake stole it- or, rather, conned someone into giving it to us. He ended up tossing about half the money out the window in wads and bundles to try and make them stop. It worked, but I only walked away with a little over ten grand instead of bein’ set for life. And ever since I’ve been lookin’ over my shoulder, waiting to see if some knuckle-dragger’s gonna come up from behind and tapdance on my windpipe, lookin’ for the missing cash.”
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I waited for a moment. “It would seem you have a number of quandaries here, Mitchell. You seek extra money, and rather than use legitimate means, as I’ve been trying to do, you are taking routes to financial security that are quite dangerous, and in the end, not so secure at all.”
“You got a point, Monty? ‘Cause I’m not gettin’ any younger here, and them rocks’re gonna run out eventually.”
“Not like we have much to do while Jake’s on the errand you conscripted him to. Mitch, I wonder sometimes if you aren’t just a little addicted to the life we left. Most teachers moonlight at a different job when they need extra cash. You put your life at risk stealing from gangsters. Or now, you put your freedom at risk, stealing from regular folks. I have very little to lose, compared to you. You’re risking both family and your professional standing, while I have no connections and my job barely pays above minimum wage.”
“I heard Russ made good money sellin’ his suit to the military. Ain’t they interested in those mechanical eyeballs of yours?” Mitch said.
“Icarus has a much better sense of timing than I do. He sold his soul to the military years ago. Now? How many super-scientists are out there these days? Too many. One cannot swing the proverbial dead cat without hitting a new creation of some frustrated fifteen-year old that blasts lasers. How many pieces of alien technology have fallen into earth’s hands since The One or that little bastard child of his have taken to flying about? No, I took too long, and have to refine my work to far greater performance than that to even hope to compete. I’m a very, very minor player asking for a shot at the brass ring, when all the big leaguers have crowded the field.”
“Well, I guess you got your reasons, and I got mine. All I know is something just mussed-up this plan, big time, and I’m driving around a van with enough stolen goods to get me a thirty-year prison sentence. That’s gonna put anyone on edge just a little.”
Jake had begun hiking back the short distance to the van, waving a page he’d torn from the phone book in the booth.
“Got it,” he said.
“Good,” Mitch mumbled under his breath. “At least he can do something right that doesn’t involve screwing with honest people.”
“Okay, you know what, frosty? I heard that!” Jake suddenly yelled. “You hear me? I heard the shit you were just sayin’, and I want an apology, now!”
“Oh fer the love’a Pete,” Mitch said. “Jake, get in the GeeDee van a’fore I freeze that yapper of yours!”
“No, shitferbrains! Your old girlfriend ain’t here to bail you out, and I’m tired of you and everyone else acting as if you’re all better than me ‘cause of your straight jobs and kids and everything else! Dammit, you say you’re sorry, or maybe I’ll walk away with this and see how far you get without me!”
“Jacob, we’ve got no time right now for any pretty squabbling. Please re-enter the van, so that we may-”
“SHUT THE HELL UP, MONTY!” Jake’s voice went up at least one octave and a few more notches in volume. “I’m fucking well done with your ten-dollar words and you acting like you’re so much smarter than the rest of us. Where’d your fancy words get you, huh? Some minimum-wage job at a desk at night, wearing a uniform that’d be a laugh to any kids flipping burgers for three-an’-a-quarter an hour. Know what I say to th-”
Mitch’s door suddenly burst open, and Mitch launched himself out of his seat, out the door and around the front of the car. His face was calm, but his eyes were glaring and angry.
Jake stopped talking and began to back away in quick, jumpy steps, the torn page never leaving his hand.
“I’ll give you an apology, you skinny little shit,” Mitch mumbled,just loud enough for both Jake and Monty to hear, “attached to the boot I’m gonna put up your skinny little con-man’s ass!”
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TO BE CONTINUED...