Give and Take
Sam moved closer to the door, careful to make sure he was not exposed so a sniper could take a bead on him, not that he thought they might. For him old habits die hard, and he believed those without them, die fast. “What do you want?” he shouted, back against the vertical support column near the doors leading into the ATM vestibule.
“We’re sending in a phone,” replied the electronically amplified voice.
“Do it,” Sam yelled back, “Nice and slow.”
He could hear the sound of feet approaching on the pavement outside, a black hand held phone with protective rubber case was tossed in through the shot out glass door in the ATM vestibule landing with a tinkling sound on the floor near where Sam stood. The sound of feet retreated quickly.
Tapping a man lying on the floor near him with his foot, Sam nodded toward the phone. The man looked at Sam then the phone, but didn’t move.
“Relax,” said Sam, “They’re the good guys, remember? Just move nice and easy and everything will be okay,” he reassured.
The man got up on all fours. Sam shouldering the M4 and tracking him as the man crawled into the vestibule and brought back the phone.
Lowering the assault weapon, he took the device from the man, nodding, “Good job,” he said. No sooner than he had taken the phone, it started ring in his hand.
Looking at the buttons, he touched the phone symbol and brought it to his ear. “Yeah?”
“My name is Jason Thomas, I’m with the SDPD, how would you like me to address you?” asked the voice on the other end of the line, he sounded young.
“I have no name and don’t care what you call me,” answered Sam.
“Kind of like one of Clint Eastwood’s characters from those 60’s spaghetti westerns, the man with no name,” said Jason, soft chuckle in his voice.
“Sure, whatever,” Sam answered.
“Is everybody okay in there Clint?” Jason asked.
“So far, everyone in here is just peachy,” Sam replied.
“That’s good,” Jason replied, “It means we still have some hope of getting this thing resolved peacefully,” he added.
“Your boys didn’t show up so peaceful,” Sam retorted.
“You guys rolled out there with machine guns and scared the crap out of everybody, smells like a port-a-potty out here,” Jason answered with a soft laugh.
Sam feigned a chuckle. “Any dead cops out there?” he asked, almost conversationally.
“Nope we’re still good, nothing a few band aids couldn’t cover, like I said, still hope we can work this out,” he provided. “Sounds like you got some pretty impressive hardware in there based on what I’ve been told.”
“We are well armed and determined, your presence here has now added desperate to the equation, now I want to check on my boy in the van,” Sam said.
“Okay, let’s talk about that,” Jason said. “You seem pretty cool given the situation, so I’m guessing this is not your first time at the rodeo or in a firefight and if that’s the case, you know how this works.”
“I know how it works, tit for tat, so here’s how our first little trust exercise is going to play out, you’re going to let me send one of my boys out to that van and bring it back to the door and I’m going to give you a hostage,” Sam offered.
“C’mon Clint, that’s a biggie for our first date don’t you think? For all I know you’ve got a fifty caliber machine gun or some type of mini-gun mounted in the back of that thing, if that’s what you want you’re going to need to really sweeten the pot quite a bit,” he said.
Sam chuckled before placing the phone against his chest, covering the receiver. “Boy,” he said, calling to the youth still glued to his mother. “It’s time to go,” he said.
The mother nodded, “Do as the man says Timmy, Mommy will be right behind you,” she said, tone soothing and reassuring, face streaked with makeup.
“I don’t want to leave you,” the boy protested, tone concerned, eyes wide, his own voice on the verge of breaking.
She smiled and nodded, looking at him before up at Sam, “You’re going to need to be a big boy for Mommy and you’ll be okay and so will I, alright sweetheart?” she said, kissing him on the side of his face. The boy got up and walked over to Sam.
Putting the phone back to his head, “Here’s a token of my willingness to work with you Jason,” Sam said, “I’m sending out a kid, make sure none of your gung ho cowboys out there cracks off a round.”
“Good,” Jason said over the phone. Outside he could hear him yelling, “Everybody hold up, we got one coming out!”
Sam nudged the kid toward the door, shards of glass crunching under the boy’s running shoes as he crossed through the vestibule and out of the bank. Quick footsteps approached then receded rapidly.
“That was a damn big gesture, damn big,” Jason said over the phone. “You seem like a reasonable man Clint.”
“Now I want my van,” Sam said, “And I’ll give you that little boy’s mother.”
“Okay, I’m willing to do that, but give me a few minutes to clear the van first, you understand,” Jason said.
“You have two minutes, otherwise, I might be thinking you’re trying to sabotage my ride and that this might not be a mutually rewarding first date,” Sam said.
“Fair enough,” replied Jason. Sam waited, muffled instructions being issued on the other end of the line. After a couple of minutes had elapsed, “You’re good to go, anything shady, all bets are off,” Jason advised.
“Quid pro quo, anything happens to my guy out there, you just killed that little boy’s mother,” Sam replied directly.
Sam motioned George over. Leaning in close, he whispered, “This is the single most important part of the plan, we need that van.”
George nodded and leaned his rifle against the wall near Sam, before reaching around and removing the desert eagle tucked into his pants and sticking in the front of Sam’s pants.
“My guy is coming out, unarmed, just going to move the van back to the front of the bank, nice and slow,” Sam advised.
“Copy that,” answered Jason.
Exiting the bank, George walked cautiously toward where the van had jumped the curb onto the esplanade, hands raised, fingers open. Cops everywhere. All of the doors on the van were open and Jeff lay huddled over the steering column, blood and other chunks of gore from the gunshot wound to his head spattered on the inside of the driver’s side interior. Pushing Jeff toward the passenger seat, George climbed into the driver’s seat, the smell of blood and shit strong. Leaving the driver’s door open, turning the ignition key, the van’s engine came to life. Engaging the automatic transmission, he slid the vehicle into reverse and began to slowly roll the vehicle back over the slightly elevated esplanade onto the street in front of the bank. Once back in position near the armored truck, George turned off the engine and got out of the van, making his way back into the building through the glassless doors.
Sam looked over and the woman sitting on the ground and nodded. “Mama, your turn, go to your son,” he said, making eye contact with the woman and motioning her toward the door with his head.
She got up on her feet, moving slowly, pausing near Sam, “Thank you,” she said softly, relief written all over her streaked face.
He nodded, “She’s coming out Jason,” Sam said, again, there were orders barked outside the bank and the sound of feet moving about as she exited the building.
George grabbed his pistol from Sam’s trousers and picked up his rifle. “SWAT”s out there now,” he said.
Sam nodded, bringing the phone down to his chest. “How many cops?” he asked.
George shook his head, “I don’t know, twenty, thirty maybe, ones I could see anyway,” he replied.
“Jeff?”
George shook his head again, touched a finger to the side of his skull and snapped his head to the opposite side.
“You still there?” Sam heard from the phone as he brought it back up to her head.
“Yeah I’m still here,” Sam replied.
“I was just telling my superior we been making some solid progress, that you’re a man of special integrity,” Jason said, “You keep this up, we might get this thing to bed without anyone else getting hurt. Speaking of that, the little boy Tim tells me you’re hurt, you took one in the side between the plates.”
“Just a scratch,” Sam said. “Nothing a band aid won’t cover.”
“Hmm. You need a doctor in there?” Jason asked.
“Nope, I will call you when I’ve got something more to say,” Sam said, ending the call before Jason could respond.
Pulling George off to the side, “You get a chance to check the van?”
George shook his head, “No way, but I doubt they found the charges though,” he opined.
Sam nodded.
“Probably planted a GPS in it or something, the whole thing was wide open,” George suggested.
“Doesn’t matter, as long as the charges are still in place, we are still golden,” Sam replied, looking over at Cameron still fidgeting behind the teller counter.