High Risk by G.K. Parks (books for 10th graders TXT) 📕

them and dissension in the ranks. The mess they made outside the dispensary wasn’t methodical like Star Cleaners.”

“They made a mess there too.”

Brad swallowed as images of Gardner’s body resurfaced. “Whatever their new plan is, they needed a third uniform. They could have waited for the truck, possibly taken all three guards at once, and attracted less attention. Or they could have waited until the two guards went inside and then just took out the driver while they were disguised. I’d say that would have been the best plan. The safest. Easiest.”

“You think one of them got greedy.”

“Or panicked. Or they had something else in mind.”

“Maybe they didn’t know the truck was coming,” I said. “It was delayed for over an hour. They could have thought they missed it.”

“Then why didn’t they wait and try another day?” Brad asked.

“Greed. Impatience.”

“Or they’re afraid we’re getting too close.”

“Which would mean someone we questioned or something we found leads straight to them.” I bit my lip, hit by the nagging feeling I was forgetting something. “So they had to keep moving. But that means they don’t have a plan.”

“I think they have a plan, but it’s changing and evolving as they go.”

“That’s not much of a plan,” I argued.

“No, but for whatever the reason, they robbed the dispensary. Perhaps they thought the pickup was greater than it was. And when they didn’t get a ton of money, they changed the play on the fly and decided they needed a third uniform, so they abducted Rook.”

I put my head in my hands and let out a frustrated growl, which resulted in Gunnie enthusiastically wagging his tail at me. Apparently, I spoke dog. “Okay, here’s what I don’t understand. They strip and kill the LockBox driver, which gave them three LockBox uniforms. Why shift tactics and steal badges and police uniforms?”

Brad pointed a marker at me. “They must need both.”

“For what?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

We spent most of the afternoon researching overlap locations, but there weren’t many. Police were only present at prominent locations or areas where the public gathered. The LockBox armored trucks had specific routes and locations. They varied by the day and week in order to prevent psychos from getting any funny ideas.

“They tortured Lindsey Rook, the armored truck driver. We need to know what he knew,” I said.

“The transcripts from the LockBox interviews are on the police servers.”

I grabbed my laptop and readjusted on the couch, placing a pillow beneath my bruised side to keep from aggravating it while I kept the pressure off my shoulder and neck. Then I logged in and searched for the data. While I read, Brad researched possible targets. Oddly enough, this was almost exactly where we left off several days ago.

“It can’t be a government site,” Brad declared. “LockBox doesn’t have any contracts with the city. The only thing I can say is the offenders know the police are covering LockBox’s ass, which might explain why they wanted to have police uniforms handy.”

“Why did they go down to the subway?” I asked. The transcripts hadn’t provided much. At full capacity, each armored truck could hold almost half a billion dollars, but they didn’t collect that much on any route. The hundred million was the largest amount any of their trucks carried. Once they hit close to that amount, they’d take the money to the depository.

“To escape.”

“They had a getaway vehicle. They could have dumped the body anywhere and drove off. They went there for a reason. LockBox doesn’t have any government contracts, so it’s no wonder the station agent didn’t react well when they demanded she hand over the money from her booth.”

“Assuming that’s what they demanded.” Brad reached for a map of the subway tunnels and hung it beneath the city map. Then he marked the subway lines and stations on the regular map with a red pen. “The witness didn’t hear what they said.”

“So why do you think they approached the station agent and then killed her if it wasn’t for money? I know she doesn’t exactly have millions in the booth with her, just a regular cash drawer, but still, they took $250 from the dry cleaner’s. Money’s money to them.”

Brad thought for a moment. “It’s not like the old days where you had the ticket booths and all the collected fares. Everything’s electronic and automated. The station agent is basically customer service and in charge of handling emergencies.” The thought hit us at the same time. “Station agents direct evacuations and have all the emergency exits and escape routes from the tunnels mapped out.”

“This is about orchestrating the perfect getaway,” I said.

“And they did, didn’t they?” Brad cocked an eyebrow at me. “But that was a dry run. They want to use the tunnels to pull off the real thing.” He turned back to the map and his list of possible targets. “Wherever they plan to strike must be close to the subway or one of the access tunnels.”

“Or they plan on hitting one of the hubs. The combination of high-end shops and subway access would make it ideal, if they could find a way to escape without getting stopped at the next station.” I scanned the transcript again. LockBox had contracts with most of the high-end shops at several of the hubs, even some of the shops at the Oculus. “They could jack the truck, empty it out, and use one of the emergency evacuation plans to escape.”

“Or one of the old tunnels that’s no longer in use.” He jerked his chin at my computer. “Any idea how much one of the LockBox trucks would have by the time they reached the end of the line?”

“It varies based on the day, but at least fifty, possibly seventy-five million.”

“That has to be it. But how exactly