The Storm Maker (6 page)

BOOK: The Storm Maker
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       “Oh…”
she said.

       “I
came to tell you, I want you to come to my office on the third floor early
tomorrow for a House of Banks meeting. I have some task for you that I am not
going to disclose to non-political members of the House.”

       “But
I have to attend these learning sessions,” she said.

       “Nah…”
Dvyet waved his hand. “We are the lawmakers, they can’t make us attend. This is
just recommended but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You will be
working a lot more with the House of Banks, so that is more important for you
to get involved in.”

       “I
will do that then,” she said and he turned around and left.

       She
put all her stuff in her purse and looked for Krrtya who was still in the fifth
row talking with a couple other Constellars. Slyntya had always taken lunch
with her in the Constellation and she decided to wait for her to become free.
She did not like her learning sessions interrupted, but even her husband had
told her not to worry about knowing everything. Most of the time she would have
the more specialized task of supervising banks through the House of Banks. She
could always learn what she missed from the books.

       “Ready,
Constellar Krrtya?” she asked across the rows when she saw her alone.

       “Let’s
go to lunch, Slyntya,” she replied.

       Slyntya
walked down the stairs to her and both of them walked out of the auditorium and
went to one of the restaurants inside the Constellation building.

 

 

chapter 5 – the bank robbery

 

08/25/958

 

Chief
Detective Sayett took the exit on the national road towards the main road of
the city of Toranus Hills and put his car in a lower gear. It was early in the
morning and the road was mostly empty. He drove down the main road and came to
a stop outside a coffee shop, parked his car at the curb and walked in. It was
a small café with a few chairs outside as well a small room and kitchen inside
with an arch-like door for entrance. One table had copies of that day’s
newspaper neatly piled on it. Sayett picked up one, sat down on the chair
facing the town, relaxed back and opened the paper. He had just turned a couple
of pages when the waiter asked him to order.

       “Not
just yet,” Sayett said, “I am waiting for someone, they should be here in
fifteen minutes.”

       The
waiter nodded and went back in. A few people were walking on the streets, and
some cars were driving by.

       As
Sayett put down the paper, he looked at his watch and it was exactly seven AM,
and true to the time, three men crossed the main street from the other side.
Sayett got up to greet them and smiled at the first man.

       “Colonel
Vyptor,” Sayett said, “glad you could entertain me.”

       “Happy
to come,” Colonel Vyptor said. “I brought a couple of boys with me who assist
me at the base.” He said pointing to the two young men behind him. “Soldier
Ryft and Soldier Woker,” the colonel said.

       Sayett
smiled and nodded at them and then turned to the colonel, “Take your seat,
Colonel...soldiers.” He called to the waiter, “Bring some coffee for the
colonel and his boys, and me as well.” The waiter nodded and went back in.

       Colonel
Vyptor sat down opposite Sayett, while the two soldiers pulled chairs and sat
at another table some distance behind the colonel facing his back.

       “I
am Chief Detective Sayett,” Sayett said. “Perhaps you have heard about me.”

       “Heard
a lot actually,” Colonel Vyptor said and then laughed. “You are one SPASI Man
that would be happily invited to any Warrior Class’s drinking party.”

       “Glad
to know,” Sayett said smiling. The waiter brought four cups of coffee and put
two down on their table and handed the other two over to the soldiers.

       “Warrior
Class and SPASI have not looked eye to eye in the past,” Colonel Vyptor said,
“But we are both here to fight for our King and Country: the Starfire Nation.”
He picked up his coffee and took a couple of sips. “And besides, we don’t think
of you, Sayett, as a SPASI Man, but as one of our heroes, so don’t hesitate to
ask us for whatever support you need.”

       “Great,”
Sayett nodded and then pulled a map from his pocket and laid it on the table.
He spread it across, smoothed out the creases and then pointed to eleven red
circles he had made.

       “Heard
about the recent bank robberies, Colonel?” he asked.

       “Well
they happen once in a while,” the colonel said.

       “These
are different,” Sayett said, “and that is why I have been given the
investigation. Now look at the red circles,” Sayett said. He moved his finger
from the first one in the northeast corner of the map to the last one. “Roughly
a straight line from the first to the last.”

       “But…”
Colonel was about to speak.

       “And
they happened in that order,” Sayett said. He leaned back on his chair and picked
up his coffee.

       “You
are thinking they are going down in a line? And this town is next?”

       “Now
if it was just the geographical pattern,” Sayett said, “I would be more
skeptical. But there are two more things. In our detective work we look for
patterns, there is the obvious geographical pattern. But there are a couple of
other patterns, too. The bank robbers are picking towns of a certain size; ones
not too big because they don’t want a large police force, at the same time not
too small that banks don’t keep much money. The last pattern is that even
though towns are large enough that they would normally have the headquarters of
the local warrior class, but for some reason it is at another town of the
district.”

       “Our
town,” Vyptor said. “My headquarters for 676
th
Reserve Army is
temporarily moved for six months to the town half an hour from here because our
building is getting reconstructed and renovated.”

       “Exactly,”
Sayett said. “And this town has between one-hundred thousand and two-hundred
fifty-thousand people; the same demographic pattern for the rest of the hits.”

       “Well,
what about the police?” the colonel asked,

       “I
have a lunch meeting with the police chief at noon at Hyte’s Foodhouse,” Sayett
said. “But I have checked this town’s numbers. Total of ninety policemen, about
ten will be on vacation on any given day. From the remaining eighty you have
four, six-hour shifts, that leaves twenty on duty any time for the whole town.
The bank robbers are not your typical yahoos with shotguns; they are mercenaries
with Ranx Rifles—automatics.”

       “You
definitely need us then,” Vyptor finished the coffee with one last gulp and put
it on the table, “By the way, great place that Hyte’s, get Pork & Buffalo
Combo, my recommendation.”

       “Will
try,” Sayett said, “If you can, I would like twenty-five to thirty warriors
around the clock. There are three big banks here; luckily they are close to
each other. If you keep your boys in one of the hotels nearby, that would be
great.”

       “Sounds
good,” Vyptor said. “Will take me about a day to set it up. They should be here
by tomorrow morning.”

       Suddenly
they heard a couple of gunshots ring out from down the street. All four of them
got up and looked in that direction. The two soldiers—Ryft and Woker—had pulled
their pistols. There weren’t many people on the streets or sidewalks this early
in the morning, but whoever there was, started running towards them or into the
side streets. They heard a few more gunshots and then continuous firing.

       “Coming
from the bank?” Sayett asked.

       “Yes.
Damn bastards couldn’t wait a day.”

       “Let’s
go get them.” Sayett took out his pistol. The colonel was already walking down
the road towards the center of the town from where the gunshots were coming.
Sayett was behind the colonel and the two soldiers behind him.

       “Should
have brought our ATR’s,” Ryft said.

       They
walked on the sidewalk. They hurried but did not run and in a few minutes were
onto the scene.

       A
police car was parked in the middle of the street; the two policemen behind it
with Lockyett five-shot repeater rifles were trading fire with the two bank
robbers armed with Ranx Rifles. The robbers were positioned behind a three-foot
wall on either side of the top of the steps leading to the bank entrance on the
second floor. One of the bank robbers was straight ahead from the police
position while the other was at a forty-five degree angle, and their automatic
fire had pinned the two policemen down.

       On
the other side of the street were stores with big columns, wide enough for a
man to safely stand behind. Colonel Vyptor was two buildings away from the
store in front of the bank and started to cross the street when he saw a young
kid with ATR coming down a side street.

       “Boy,
how old are you?” he shouted out at him.

       “O’
Colonel,” the boy was surprised for a moment. “I am sixteen.”

       “Where
did you get that rifle? You are too young to be part of any army.”

       “It’s
my brother’s; he is a warrior under your command,” he said, “but he is working
at the tire factory; thought I might help out the police.”

       “You
are a brave boy,” the colonel said, “But throw me that rifle. You are too young
and your brother wouldn’t like me risking you.”

       The
boy hesitated. He looked at the colonel and at the three men standing behind
him with their pistols drawn.

       “C’mon
now, boy,” the colonel said, “Throw me that rifle, and come to me in two years’
time.”

       The
kid threw the colonel the rifle, which he grabbed in the midair.

       “Now
run along and tell your brother what is going on,” Colonel Vyptor said.

       “Yes,
Colonel,” the boy said and ran back in the side street that he had come from.

       “We
got lucky,” soldier Woker said.

       All
of them walked down another building when Colonel stopped behind a column.

       “Let’s
hope he loaded it,” Colonel said and took out the magazine. It was fully loaded
with twenty-five rounds. Colonel removed twelve bullets and put them in his
left pocket, then attached the magazine back to ATR, flicked the rifle to
‘auto’ and started walking with the rest behind him.

       The
bank robbers and the police were too busy trading fire to notice the new
arrivals to the scene. Colonel and Sayett quietly took positions behind columns
of the store across from the bank while Ryft and Woker hid behind the columns
of another store.

       “Distract
him,” Colonel said to Sayett.

       Sayett
aimed his pistol and fired three shots at the bank robber who was positioned
diagonal to the police car but straight in front of him across the street and
behind the bank wall. He missed all three and quickly backed behind the column.
His palms had broken a sweat; there was a tingle of tension and excitement,
combined with heavy breathing and a rush to his heart. He had been in many
shootouts, but the first shots always excited. The bank robber was surprised;
he turned his rifle and let loose a volley at the stone column where Sayett had
taken cover. Then he turned to fire at the police car again. Sayett had gained
his calm now and was breathing slowly. He turned out from the other side of the
column and fired two more shots—misses again but much closer.

       However,
the shots provided the opportunity to the colonel; and as the bank robber
ducked for a few seconds, the colonel aimed his ATR rifle, and as soon as the
robber showed himself, the colonel pulled the trigger and emptied the entire
magazine, knocking the bank robber back cold and dead.

       The
other bank robber was shocked to see his mate fall down; he directed his fire
at the colonel who was now safely behind the stone column. The police were also
surprised; they gave a thumbs up to Sayett and turned back.

       “I
have to load again,” Colonel said to Sayett. “Get him boys,” he yelled to his
soldiers.

       Sayett
fired two shots in the general direction of the robber, but received fire in
return. Ryft and Woker, from behind the next store’s columns, now started
firing their pistols at the remaining bank robber. The policemen took advantage
and also fired their rifles. The four of them had pinned the robber down and he
was not showing his head or his gun.

       Neither
one of the soldiers was giving a chance for the robber to show himself; they
were just firing at the wall now. Sayett could tell this was probably their
first gunfight. Ryft and Woker did not stop till they were out of bullets. Then
they took out their backup magazines and loaded their pistols again.

       “Stop
firing,” Sayett yelled to Ryft and Woker, “Save your bullets.”

       They
looked at him and nodded in the realization that the excitement had made them
forget that, unlike on a practice range, their bullets here were limited.

       The
colonel just finished reloading the twelve bullets he had earlier put in his
pockets. Now he attached the magazine to the rifle and looked at Sayett and
said, “I am ready again.”

       “Provide
me single-shot fire cover when I signal,” Sayett said.

       The
colonel nodded and flicked his ATR to ‘single-shot’; the policemen had stopped
firing and were reloading their rifles. Sayett had three more bullets in his
magazine, but he took it out and put it in his pant pocket and quickly plugged
in his ten-round backup magazine from his inner coat pocket.

       A
few seconds after the firing had stopped; the bank robber slowly raised his
head to see what was happening. Sayett signaled to Colonel Vyptor with his left
hand and the colonel turned around and opened fire. The bank robber quickly
ducked down again as bullets hit the wall in front of him and the bank wall
behind him. Sayett figured he had eight to ten seconds before the colonel was
‘out’ and he ran across the street with his pistol in his right hand and
reached the first step and kneeled down to take cover next to the adjacent
wall.

       He
signaled to Ryft and Woker to hold their fire. Meanwhile, the colonel had fired
the last of his twelve bullets, dropped the ATR and  taken out his pistol.
Sayett quietly walked up the stairs. Policemen had loaded their rifles and were
in no danger of hitting Sayett, so they started shooting, while the colonel and
his soldiers held their fire to avoid hitting him.

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