Running on Empty (15 page)

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Authors: Roger Barry

BOOK: Running on Empty
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‘Hi’ she said ‘you out for a good time tonight?’

‘Huh? Oh no, I’m waiting for someone’ he replied hesitantly.

Sally heard a car door close behind her.

‘Hey sister, he doesn’t want any STD’s tonight, so fuck off before I have you lifted’.

‘Gettin’ that a girl can’t make an honest livin’ in this town, no more’ she said, as she casually strolled on.

Tom felt like he’d been lurking in the shadows of the side street forever. Finally, he recognized the clipping sound of the ankle boots, as they drew close again.

‘Well’ he asked anxiously, ‘how did it go?’

‘I’m afraid it’s plan B’ she said wearily.

‘Incidentally’ she continued, ‘do we have a plan B?’

****

Fielding stood by the large window, staring out at the Boston nightscape, when Lowanski entered his office.

‘Well’ he asked, ‘I hope you’ve some good news for a change’.

‘I’m afraid not, boss. Feeney was a no-show. Maybe Longston tipped him off somehow, but I can’t see how. We had him under wraps ever since our little talk’.

‘This is getting beyond a joke, Lowanski. What exactly happened?’

‘Well, nothing boss. Nothing at all’.

‘Nothing?’

‘No boss. All that happened was some hooker tried to hit on Longston, but that was before the meet was due to take place. One of the crew got her off the scene, pronto’.

‘What?’ boomed Fielding, they left their cover to deal with a prostitute? Am I surrounded by total fucking idiots?’

Lowanski shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

‘She couldn’t have anything to do with Feeney’ he said, trying to convince himself, ‘sure we know he’s no money’.

‘We don’t know anything for sure, you fucking thicko’ snapped Fielding, ‘maybe he pawned a watch, or a ring, or got money from begging. We don’t know what his status is for sure. Do you not think it possible he could have got hold of a twenty somewhere, to pay some whore to walk up to a guy? He could have been watching from a distance, while you idiots waltzed out of your cover, and fell right into his trap’.

‘I don’t think he’s that clever boss’ Lowanski said tentatively.

‘He’s been clever enough to evade you and your thick cronies for the last three days, with no money. I think I’m chasing the wrong guy. I think I’ll take him over to my side, and have him chase you down and put a bullet in your thick Polak head. Now, get out of my sight before I waste you myself. Find that hooker, and find out what she knows. This operation is due to go into full swing soon, and if your incompetence fucks it up, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Understand?’

****

Chapter
15
-
Arthur

They lay awake in the bed in near total darkness.

‘Tom, you said it was possible to escape to Ireland. What would be needed to make that a reality?’

‘Quite a lot’ he replied, ‘money for starters, for the air fare, and a whole heap of other stuff, for the paperwork’.

‘I have some money put by’ said Sally. ‘I was saving a bit to eventually get out of here. I think I’ve about seven hundred dollars’.

‘That’d only get one air ticket. We need two, there’s no way I’d do a runner, and leave you here’.

‘Tom, let’s be practical. There’s no way the two of us could go. Apart from the money side of things, it would mean two sets of paperwork. That’s not feasible. You have to get away. I can hang on here another while. Nobody’s out to get me. It’s not ideal, but getting out of here isn’t a matter of life and death for me, it is for you. You have to go, or you’ll die. You understand that, don’t you? So, that’s our plan B, to get you out as fast and as far away as we can. We’ll work out the rest later. Now, get some sleep, and tomorrow we’ll make out a list of what needs doing’.

Tom knew she was right, as usual. The thought of deserting Sally was difficult to face up to, but he knew the net was closing in on him. It was only a matter of time before he was tracked down, and when that happened, that was it for him, maybe for both of them. He knew how ruthless they could be. He’d seen it at close quarters. What was it all about, anyway? They knew he’d seen that Chinese guy being killed, and for him seeing that, they wanted him dead too.

Why?

He began to wonder if it was to do with the organisation at all. It all seemed so brutal and vicious. More like gangland than government. You don’t kill a Chinaman for not having the information you require, you tell him to fuck off back to China. So, what are most gangland killings over? Money? Weapons? Drugs?

Drugs.

Could this be what all this is about? A simple case of a drug deal gone wrong? And he was a witness?

He could imagine Lowanski mixed up in something as shady as a drugs deal, but Fielding? It was certainly feasible, if the stakes were high enough. And with drugs, the stakes are frequently high enough. Fielding would be in a position to have information most drug dealers would kill for. So, who’s to say he’s not killing to protect that same information? It certainly made as much, if not more sense than any other possibility he could think of. It took Tom a long time to drift off to sleep.

After they had finished eating breakfast, Tom sat with a blank piece of paper on his lap, deep in thought. He knew the passport was the biggest obstacle. Still, leaving the country shouldn’t be too difficult, certainly not compared to entering it. Passports are scrutinised heavily on arrival, but only get a cursory glance when departing. Nobody cares too much if you want to leave the good old USA. He imagined arrival in Ireland shouldn’t be too difficult either. After all, lots of yanks visit the old home country on a regular basis. And Irish passport control wouldn’t be as familiar with an American passport as they would be at home. It was worth a try.

Sally came over and sat beside him.

‘Not much of a list then?’

‘I’m working on it, Sal’.

‘Ok, here goes’.

Tom began writing.

A passport to forge.

A laptop, and image manipulation software, Photoshop, maybe.

A scanner.

A printer.

A passport photo of myself.

Transparent contact sheet.

A sharp blade.

A rucksack.

Leads with crocodile clips.

A wire strippers, and cutters.

Some flexible pipe.

A refuse sack, and an old jumper.

‘I think that’s about it’ he said.

‘Oh, and some decent clothes to wear, and a suitcase with some clothes in it. I can’t go for an international flight without some form of luggage’.

‘Is that all?’ inquired Sally, ‘and I thought this was going to be difficult’.

‘Right’ said Tom, ‘this is how it’ll work.

First we need to steal nearly everything on the list, except the passport. We need to have it all set up and ready to go. The passport will be last, because the less time we have it, the less chance of it being reported missing or stolen. We need to take it from someone who has just arrived, off an international flight obviously, and hopefully they won’t notice it’s missing until they get home, or whatever. We also need somewhere with a power point to use the equipment, somewhere quiet, where nobody’s going to ask questions. Do you know of anywhere like that?’

‘I’ve a friend who works in a charity shop. I’m sure she’s a back room we could use for a few hours’ said Sally.

‘Oh, and put on the largest jumper you have’ said Tom.

Armed with a couple of dollars, a pillow, and a canvas carrier bag, they headed for their first stop, a hardware store. There they bought a couple of leads with crocodile clip ends, a cutters, and a wire strippers. Next, they headed to a discount store. Sally baffled the assistant, enquiring about some obscure watch battery, while Tom nervously slipped a flat packed rucksack into his canvas bag alongside the pillow. One down, a lot to go. When they were a block away, Tom puffed out the rucksack, dropped in the canvas bag, and slung it over one shoulder. The next step was not going to be as easy. Before they entered the electrical discount store, Tom took the pillow and shoved it up the front of Sally’s top. He then spent several minutes adjusting its shape, until he felt happy with his work.

‘There, that looks about eight months’ he said, admiring his handiwork.

‘More like twelve if you ask me. What have I got, twins?’

Tom ignored her, and they headed on in.

Inside, the store was ideal for what they wanted. There were just enough customers to keep the floor staff busy, while not so many as to have some of them nosing around, while Tom did his work. Sally’s job was to stand halfway down the aisle, and provide some form of labour pains distraction, or something along those lines, should an assistant head their way. Tom’s direction to her was to improvise. He knew there would be CCTV in operation in the store, but he was working on the theory they were there more for prosecution than observation. He set to work at the laptop counter. Laptops, he knew, were generally store protected by an insulated wire running through them. If you cut the wire, the alarm sounded. However, if you stripped back the insulation on each side of the laptop without cutting the core, then attached the crocodile clip lead, the circuit would remain closed, allowing the wire through the casing to be cut without sounding the alarm. That was the theory, anyway. He knew he was in unchartered waters here, and he was well aware he couldn’t swim. He also knew that if he got arrested for shoplifting, it wouldn’t be long before Fielding found out, and his cover would be blown. He nervously stripped the insulation on both sides, and attached the crocodile clips. Tom braced himself, and snipped the wire.

Nothing.

No alarm went off, no heads were raised. He quickly folded up the laptop, and slid it into the rucksack. He gestured to Sally, and they both exited the store arm in arm. They headed back to the charity shop, and deposited the laptop, then returned to the streets. He figured the printer, being less valuable, wouldn’t be alarmed, and he was correct. However, it presented a different problem, being much more bulky to both conceal and remove. They had figured it was best to avoid stores, or chains, they had been to already. Obviously the crocodile clips, and missing laptop, would have been discovered soon after they left. There was a high probability that the CCTV would have then been scrutinised, and their images relayed to other branches of the same chain.

The printer was more problematic than Tom had anticipated. A persistent sales assistant just wouldn’t leave them alone, to the point where they almost quit and moved on to somewhere else, until he finally got bored and left them to their own devices. It was quite difficult to actually squeeze it into the rucksack, but they managed eventually, and deposited it at the charity shop room.

The scanner was next, and again it proved to be not quite as hard to acquire as initially thought. This was a doddle, thought Tom. Maybe I’ve found myself a new career.

They headed into a software shop next. Again the plan worked as expected. Tom rambled among the shelves, quietly slipping a couple of inks that the printer required into his pockets, while Sally stood at the counter, ‘purchasing’ the image software. As she fumbled in her pockets for the money, Tom walked close by the counter, then suddenly scooped up the box, ran out the door, and kept running until he was at least three blocks out of sight. They met up again shortly after, and decided they had pushed their luck far enough for one day, and would purchase the few odds and ends that remained. They deposited everything they had back at the shop. That only left the passport.

Sally was quiet. Tom surmised she was thinking about his imminent departure. He was wrong.

Finally, she spoke.

‘You know, Tom, this passport plan is a bit half-baked if you ask me. There’s too many imponderables, too many things that could go wrong’.

She left the room, and headed to the front of the shop. It contained a large collection of second-hand clothing. She began to slowly walk the aisles. A few minutes later, she returned with two business suits in her hands, one male, the other female.

‘Here’s what we’ll do’ she said finally.

They went into a photo booth, and emerged with a set of passport photographs each. They then went on the prowl, and secured, in much the same manner as before, a laminator and laminating pouches. Back at the shop, Tom worked on producing two sets of photo ID. When he had finished, he showed them to Sally.

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