Page 4 of Rio's Release

“Where are we parking the getaway cars?” Blue asks.

“Two blocks out, at least. There’s a neighborhood behind the bank. I figure we use it.”

“We’ll need to time that,” Bandit says.

“We’ve got two days to get this right, boys.” I fold my arms. “I’m not going back to Storm without that money.”

“I’d feel better about this if we could disable those cameras,” Zig says.

“Unless one of you is a tech wizard I don’t know about, we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way, with masks.”

“I hear the FBI can do all kinds of shit with retina scanning these days, even off security cameras,” Mauler says.

“I heard of a guy who tripped that up by wearing goggles,” Bandit answers.

“Then we get some goggles,” I say.

Zig nods. “Bagger, you get the goggles. The rest of us will pick up some spray paint and meet you outside of town.”

Mauler scans his map app. “There’s a shooting range about fifteen miles west of Las Cruces. Lots of flat barren land out that way. We should be able to find someplace.”

I lift a chin to Bagger. “We’ll text you the exit. Meet us out there.”

Half an hour later, we’re standing in the middle of scrub land as far as the eye can see, marking off a crude copy of my drawing with red spray paint.

“All right,” I say. “Here’s the backdoor. The parking lot goes out this way to a line of trees and a fence. It’s chain-link and shouldn’t be a problem to scramble over. No one from the street will see us if we go over it and into the yards behind the bank. There’s no dog in the yard of the green house dead center on the other side, but if you go on either left or right of it, there’s a Pit Bull and a German Shepard. Once you’re clear, cut to the next street over. We’ll park the cars there.”

“Are we going in before they open up?” Bandit asks.

“The guard smokes a cigarette out back each morning before they open for business,” Zig says.

“They aren’t going to open the backdoor for us. Even if we’ve got a gun to the guard’s head,” Mauler says. “And if we go in the front, anyone could see us. They call 911, we’re done before we get started.”

I put my hands in my hip pockets and study the floorplan. “I’ve thought of that.”

“And?” Zig asks, squatting and tossing the spray can in a bag.

“I called Julie.”

“Your ex?” Bandit grins.

“She told me there’s one fault in the security system in most banks. The motion detectors don’t take into account the space between the ceiling tiles and the roofing.”

“What the hell are you saying?” Zig asks, his brows lifting and his knees cracking as he rises to his feet.

“I cut a hole through the roof in the early morning hours while it's still dark and drop into the rafters. I move a ceiling tile so I can see. Once the manager arrives and turns off the security system for her employees, I’ll drop through the ceiling tile, taking them by surprise.”

“You’re gonna drop ten feet? You could bust an ankle, brother. Let me do it,” Zig offers.

I need to take the risk; the blame for this screw up falls to me. I should have been more careful, plain and simple. I slap a hand to Zig’s shoulder, appreciative of his offer. “I’ll be fine. Once I’ve got them under control, I’ll let you in the backdoor.” I look to Bagger. “You’ll have to hang back and set off the explosives.”

He looks up from the map app on his phone and nods. “There’s an elementary school on the edge of town. No one will be there.”

“You sure? You have to be sure there’s no one, Bagger.”

“If there is, I’ll take care of it.”

“Sometimes kids play ball and stuff on school grounds. There may even be janitorial.”

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