"This piece of crap car. It's a total beater," Syringa grumbled, accelerating through the residential areas. We were practically flying down the narrow path. If someone, say, a child, were to run out, we'd surely hit them. "I hope I can make it through there. How about you, Malu?"
"My head hurts. That bastard really did a number on me."
"He had an impulse," I explained. "Some sort of impulse, seemingly directed at self-strengthening. Something to do with speed."
"He was hopping around like a monkey," Alex nodded. "I saw it."
"Did you put a jammer on the money, in case there's a tracker?" I nodded towards the bag. Instead of answering, Alex raised his hand, holding something with an antenna, similar to a radio. "Syringa, did you finish him off?"
"Yes, of course," she nodded.
Perhaps Syringa misunderstood me. I would have preferred if she hadn't killed the man, although I understood logically that she did the right thing. If he didn't hesitate to exchange fire with us, who's to say he wouldn't have chased us?
In general, everything was supposed to go down without casualties, but to say that I felt remorse... that would be a lie. I still felt the adrenaline rush after the shootout, due to which any feelings about the killing simply dissolved. And if the situation came up again, I'd probably pull the trigger. It's not that I'm cruel, it's just that my mission is to steal money for the person I love. And when the choice falls between sacrificing a stranger or someone I care about, the answer is clear. Plus, the killing would have bothered me a lot more if I hadn't shot a guard, but an unarmed person, for example.
"How about you, Box? Did you get hit hard?" Alex asked.
"It's okay. I'll live."
"What happened?" Malu turned to me. He had a massive bruise spreading under his eye.
"Box caught a few bullets in his vest. In the vest, right?" Alex asked for clarification.
"Yeah. But it's okay. I think I can even run if I try."
"I see... Damn, those bastards..." Malu sighed. "Why did they have to shoot, why this heroism? Couldn't they just hand it over and step aside for their own lives? Why start this worthless crap for someone else's money, probably insured anyway?"
"It's their job," I gave the obvious answer.
"Well, it's their job. We also have a job, so what? Our job is to rob, theirs - to protect. They screwed up, but why continue with the pointless resistance?"
"Not happy about getting punched?" Alex smirked. "Don't you like shooting assholes?"
"That's the point - if they are assholes."
We pulled into the communal garages. The wretched, beaten road we were racing down was peppered with potholes and ramps. We were scraping the bottom of the car, probably sparking, sometimes taking off so much that it took our breath away.
"We should get out of here as soon as possible, before the chopper shows up," Malu muttered, looking out the window and up.
"I'm already going full throttle," Syringa snapped back as if he was accusing her of something.
"Wait, what chopper?" I didn't understand.
"Just a regular one. A police helicopter. They should lift it off, in theory, if it weren't already in the air by that time."
"Great…" I sighed. "Just freaking great."
"What?" Alex looked at me.
"Just that Arrow didn't mention the chopper."
"Maybe he didn't think it was necessary. Figured we'd scram before it arrived," Malu replied from the front seat.
"But what if we don't make it in time, like now? What if the car breaks down and so on? We need to know these things."
"But everything is fine, right?"
"Fine, yeah. But suddenly I've lost faith in Arrow's plans. He left out the most important part."
"He figured it wasn't necessary," he shrugged.
"Believe me, Malu, it's not for him to decide, especially since he's not the one going on the job," I retorted. "He didn't mention that the bank belongs to the house either. And he didn't mention that one of the collectors has an impulse. We would have acted differently, been more careful, or more aggressive. Good thing he didn't blow either Alex's or my head off."
"I also support Box," Syringa chimed in. "We should have been warned about this. And Arrow is just an asshole. He even provided a car that wouldn't start."
"Do you really think he did it on purpose?" Malu smirked.
"But he gave us a shit car. That's a fact. And now we risk trying to escape on someone else's."
We shot out of the garage area, and Syringa instantly hit the brakes. She spun the wheel and sent the car down a slope straight on the ground. We were thrown around, tossed in different directions. Several times, I hit my head hard against the roof, and a sharp pain shot through my chest, like my heart was about to stop.
The car slid off the slope straight onto the road, where, with a heartfelt scrape of the front bumper, barely not tearing it off, it sped off towards the industrial district. Now, we needed to switch the car with the spare one we had hidden there.
"Anyway, we almost got everything," Alex intervened. "Guys, we're a hundred grand richer! So, screw Arrow and these impulse freaks. Screw everything! We have a hundred grand. A hundred. Grand! We can start anew."
"With a hundred grand, you can't really start anew," Malu smirked. "But you can definitely improve life a bit."
"To each their own," I shrugged. "I can definitely start anew, that I can say for sure."
"I wish I needed so little for happiness," Alex sighed.
"As for me, you don't need much for happiness," Syringa replied. "Happiness is in our heads."
"Repeat that, living in a cardboard box on the street," Malu's lips stretched into a smile. "By the way, we're here."
Syringa abruptly turned onto a dirt road, throwing the car into a skid, and we sped into the turn, raising clouds of dust and scattering stones. Without reducing speed, scratching the bottom of the car on the ground at each bump, we drove to a small abandoned factory complex.
"At last…" Syringa exhaled. "Guys, don't keep a lady waiting!"
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She jumped out, grabbed the bag, and switched to another car that was already there.
As for us, we got out, brought one of the jerry cans to the stolen car, doused the entire cabin with gasoline, and then set it on fire. The main cause of all troubles in such cases is DNA. Even the smallest trace can easily lead the police to you later. So, if there's a chance to burn something, better burn it.
All these tricks with scattering hair and fake DNA work very poorly, and the particularly persistent can easily find what they need. As far as I know, for example, Malu has already been caught by the police, so it's quite possible that there's already a dossier on him. And if they find him, finding us will just be a matter of technique.
"Eh, it's burning nicely," sighed Syringa as we moved to another car. "You know, guys, I haven't told you yet, but I like fire."
"Was I the only one hoping she would say she loved us?" Alex looked around at us.
"Honestly... yes," Malu nodded.
"It sounded like she meant to say that," I agreed.
"Oh, you love-starved guys," she snorted, stepped on the gas, raising clouds of dust and leaving the burning car behind. "If it's that important to you, fine. Alright, guys, I really am glad that you're with me."
She said the last words with a smile. A warm smile that melted our hearts. But of course, they couldn't just...
"Will you do the three of us?" Alex immediately asked.
"Alex, fuck off!" Syringa instantly snapped.
"Seriously, Ali, that's too much," Malu grimaced, earning her grateful smile. "Besides, you already have a girlfriend. Syringa will do the two of us."
"You son of a bitch, Malu! You are such a jerk!" Syringa shrieked while Malu and Alex high-fived with satisfied smiles. "I won't do anyone! What I'll do for sure - punch you in the face, you bastards!"
In a fit of rage, she floored the accelerator, and we were literally pressed into the backs of the seats. We were just flying along the abandoned dirt road, leaving the industrial complex area and raising clouds of dust behind us. The car took off on bumps, we were thrown sideways in turns, and I, with my heart stopping, feeling some crazy desire to go faster, watched as we flew along the road.
"Faster, Syringa. Go even faster!" Alex was clearly enjoying her driving. Even though we were being thrown into the air.
But I must say, it was really fun. Racing down the road at full speed, taking off on bumps so that you literally lift off the seat, and hitting your head on the roof. Drifting around corners, barely, just barely, passing by the edge. It was like a roller coaster, and if it weren't for the pain in my chest, which constantly shot through me, I could have really enjoyed this wild ride.
We made it to the forest. In winter, the once lively, densely overgrown place had turned into a literal dead, bald forest with bare gray tree trunks, spanning for miles. It looked like a set decoration for some movie featuring cursed woods - gray and faceless. Absolutely empty. We drove further in, where a small abandoned airfield was located, which used to belong to the military but now only served as a reminder of Manchuria's war past. In principle, aside from the runway, nothing else remained here.
Syringa's hatchback, almost like an old friend, was waiting there. She slammed on the brakes so hard at the end that we were thrown forward, and the car skidded sideways on the road. We spun around on the concrete, almost flipping over, but ultimately came to a safe stop.
"Well, you little bastards, anyone else wants to say something to me?" she cast a stern glance at us.
"You drive so cool," I managed to smile. "I'd say all the guys I know are nervously smoking in the corner compared to your driving."
Syringa smiled.
"You forgot to mention that none of these guys have a car," Alex smirked, and her smile faded instantly.
"Damn, Ali... You upset her," I sighed. "Still, Syringa, I'm sure you could show most men a thing or two behind the wheel."
With that, I groaned like an old man as I crawled out of the car. Just as I was almost out, I heard Syringa's voice:
"See! Did you hear that, pup?!"
The cool, clean air was invigorating. I felt more alive than ever before. It's amazing how motivating death can be when it passes by you. I won't lie and say that my life flashed before my eyes or that I thought I was dying. Nothing of the sort. I didn't even think about it at the time.
It's just that now, I'm overwhelmed with the realization of how close I came to catching a bullet. Close to my own death.
I took a deep breath, feeling the pain of inhaling, and started to undress. I wanted to see what my chest looked like.
"I told you the body armor would come in handy," Malu emerged from the car.
"And you were right. Thanks for that," I nodded, removing my down jacket and then the bulletproof vest. Then my sweatshirt, T-shirt, and...
"Hmm... it's not so bad," Malu examined my fat-ridden chest. "You've got some bruises, but that seems to be about it. Seems like your fat might have saved you from more tragic consequences. By the way, Box, aren't you afraid you'll have to start wearing a bra soon?"
"I'll borrow one from my sisters," I dismissed, examining my chest.
A few ordinary bruises, as if someone had been punching my chest. Two of them had even merged into one. But no horrific contusions, no audible crunch of ribs broken by a bullet, no dents or anything like that. I got away with it, one could say.
"Oh, a striptease from Box," Alex smirked, crawling out of the car. "So, should we open the bag?"
"There might be ink inside that could spray all over it," Malu eyed the bag doubtfully.
"If there's ink, it's in a large suitcase, which, in theory, should be inside this bag," I explained. "Or there's another bag inside it."
"So, it's just an external bag?" Alex clarified.
"Yes."
"Okay..." He cautiously opened the bag as if expecting it to detonate at any moment. "Yeah, listen, there's another bag inside. A large canvas one."
Alex pulled out a greenish tarpaulin bag with iron clasps on top, which closed like old wallets. Here, they were sealed with ordinary paper and a signature.
"There might be ink inside this one, by the way," I noted. "So…"
"So we'll just cut the bottom and be done with it," Malu shrugged and headed toward Syringa's hatchback.
"Grab my jacket while you're at it, please!" I called after him. After all, it was December outside, and I was rather chilly standing there.
We did as Malu suggested - cut the bottom of the bag. As it turned out, there was no ink inside. However, when we checked the stacks of money, we found a dummy one. It looked like all the others. However, we didn’t just check them for no reason either. So when Malu spread the bills in the middle, he saw that inside this stack, there was a hollow space. A little beacon was hidden there. Unlike in the movies, it didn't flash and had no antenna or anything distinctive. Just a regular plastic box.
"Here's the bug," Alex pulled it out and tossed it in his hand. "What should we do with it?"
"Break it. Let's continue checking," Malu nodded toward the pile of money.
There were supposed to be sixty packs here originally. Each pack should have ten thousand, sixty such packs in total. However, we counted eighty packs here. Plus, five turned out to be dummies.
And looking at this...
"So... how much per person will that be, Box?" Alex asked, eyeing the pile of money.
"Per person... um... well..." I needed time to approximately calculate how much each of us would get. "Well, Arrow's share will be two hundred and forty thousand."
"How much?!" Syringa was horrified. "Two hundred and forty?!"
"Yes, we will have five hundred and sixty thousand left. Divide by four... One hundred and forty thousand each," I finally calculated.
"Maybe we should cut Arrow's share? He doesn't know there are eight hundred, not six hundred," Syringa suggested, perking up.
"Bad idea to cheat the one who gives us jobs," Malu looked at her sternly. "And generally cheat the accomplices."
"He didn't even warn us about the collectors! That jerk didn't warn us that this was a house's bank! Who doesn't know that houses fiercely defend themselves when they feel threatened? If they find out who did this, you'll rot in the grave. And they'll lock me in the basement and rape me."
"What kind of dreams you have," Alex marveled.
"Go to hell, moron."
"But still, calm down. So what if Arrow's people made a mistake? And the fact that it's a house's bank doesn't matter. It's just like any other bank. Besides, look around - we're on an abandoned runway. There's no one here," Alex spread his hands to the sides.
"And so?"
"So we got away. We won, right guys?"
We just nodded.
"And what are you getting at?"
"That honesty is everything. Cheat once, and there will be no trust ever again. So we split what we got, as agreed. An extra thirty grand is quite enough for Arrow's mistake."
"So, for his mistake... Then why does he also deserve an extra all of a sudden?" She scowled, but no one answered her.
The money we had was clearly well-used. There was no doubt about it - crumpled, some were dirty, worn, sometimes torn. The main advantage here was that new money was too easy to trace. And second-hand money was safer because searching for them would be a hassle.
After carefully packing the money into the hiking backpacks that were in the hatchback, we went to burn the car. Naturally, we took everything useful, like guns or intact bulletproof vests. But we left my body armor, bags, and so forth in the car, then doused it with gasoline and threw in a match.
"It's on fire..." Alex exhaled, watching as the flames engulfed the interior of the car, illuminating it from inside, like a car ride to hell.
"You know, Malu, I'm done with this business," I said unexpectedly. "I'm quitting."
I figured the sooner I said it, the better. And when else to tell him that I'm quitting? It seems he was the only one who wasn't surprised. He just silently watched the fire growing in the car, as if he wanted to make sure it wouldn't go out. While Syringa looked at me astonished, and Alex wanted to say something, but then his expression changed, as if he understood something, and he fell silent.
"I see," Malu shrugged. "Well, if you're done, you're done, what else is there to say? I'm not your nanny to tell you what to do and what not to, right?"