Douglas Dorow - The Ninth District

Jack and Ross hung back while the team went to work executing the warrant. Neighbors had been moved from the adjacent quarters on either side, above, and below. They’d used the key from the landlord so they didn’t have to break down the door. The security alarm was blaring and team members were calling out directions to each other as they checked out the condo.

When it was determined that the condo was secure and empty, Jack and Ross entered. “Can somebody shut off the alarm?” Jack yelled over the din. He tapped Ross on the shoulder and leaned into him. “This noise is giving me a headache. What do you want to do?”

Ross spoke into Jack’s ear. “You check out the living room and kitchen, I’ll take the other rooms.”

The living room drew Jack’s attention first. He looked around with his fingers stuck in his ears to muffle the alarm. The room was neat and orderly. Nothing personal was visible. The room felt more like a furniture store display area than a home. The decor was tasteful, with a touch of class. After checking a couple of drawers in the side tables and looking behind the paintings on the wall, Jack ventured into the kitchen. “Who’s taking care of the alarm?” he yelled as he passed the alarm panel.

The refrigerator was modestly stocked with green bottles of water and a couple bottles of wine. Two Chinese food take-out containers were on the second shelf. A few apples were in the proper storage compartment. He looked under the sink and found a garbage can, but it was empty. Everything was too neat.

The alarm continued blaring. He couldn’t think. He stood and leaned against the counter while he massaged his temples. Now they know who the Governor is, they just have to find him. “Would somebody stop this alarm? I’m trying to think here.” Jack closed his eyes, thinking back over the past few days. He and Patty had watched a real estate developer, the Governor, walk across the bridge with a dog. Silence pressed on Jack when the alarm abruptly ended. He opened his eyes and pulled his fingers from his ears. “Finally.”

Jack decided to finish looking through the kitchen. The cupboards held some crackers, cereal, and cans of soup along with plates, bowls, and glasses. Everything was clean and stacked neatly. Labels all faced forward. Around the corner by the stove, Jack found dog bowls on the floor, one empty, one filled with water. An empty hook on the wall would have held a leash. He looked down at the black rubber matt that the food and water bowls sat on. White letters across the matt spelled out

V I N C E

Jack pictured Willy looking up into his face. His name’s Vince, Dad. Panic gripped him. It was hard to breathe. His vision was a blur as he pictured his kids with the dog just thirty minutes ago on Nicollet Island. Jack found himself at the living room window looking down on the bridge and the island. People were huddled under the eaves of the buildings. The sky was still dark with storm clouds. He grabbed his phone and dialed, looking down, hoping to spot them.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Ross asked. Jack turned and found Ross unrolling plans on the coffee table.

“I have to find my family.” Jack walked over to Ross. “Some guy left a dog with my kids. I think it was the Governor. He left his dog with my kids!”

“What? Well take a look at this.” The top-half of the top page was an overhead view of the area of the Mississippi River they were at from Boom Island to the north to locks south of the Stone Arch Bridge. There were notes written in pen and pencil at various locations. The bottom half of the page had some elevation views, cross-sections of what was below ground.

“What is this?” Jack asked as he dialed another number.

“Hold down this side.” Ross peeled back the first page like a giant book to show the second page. “He’s got sewers marked and named. It shows their depths, routes, etc.”

“Just a second, Junior. Jules. That dog, Vince, he’s the Governor’s dog. The Governor gave him to the kids. Tell the officer to take you all to the FBI office and stay there until I get you. Bye.”

“OK, Junior. Sewers, depths, and?”

Ross turned back the second page. The third page was a cover page for the rest of the documents. The seal for the Ninth District Federal Reserve covered the center of the page. “These are the plans for the Minneapolis Federal Reserve from when it was built in 1994.”

Jack leaned forward, then back to bring the drawing into focus. He used his free hand to smooth out the page. “Guess what I learned today from my daughter?”

“What?”

“The Federal Reserve has never been robbed.”

“Damn it.” The Governor stood next to his car in the parking ramp underneath the condos. The cellular phone in his hand showed he had no connectivity to the tower network. He couldn’t get a call through. He stared at the screen and walked towards the garage door to see if he could pick up a signal. One bar flickered, there then gone again. “Come on.” He walked out the door to escape the reinforced concrete and earth that kept him from getting a signal. Drops of rain flung through the air by the wind, peppering his face and arms. Finally the signal was strong enough. He dialed and waited.

“Yes.”

“Vadim, it’s me. I’m just calling to check in, see if there’s anything you need. What do we have, seven hours to go?”

“Six hours and thirty-three minutes. Is something wrong, my friend? You sound funny, not yourself.”

The Governor took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “No, everything is fine. I’m standing outside in this beautiful Minnesota summer weather and I’m a little nervous or anxious, I guess. I just wanted to make sure everything was still on track.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. This rain won’t bother anything. Everything is in place. Soon you and I will be very rich men.”

The Governor closed his eyes. Soon he would be a rich man. It was something he had dreamed of all of his life. No more dealing with architects, coordinating builders’ schedules, or dealing with the worries of homebuyers spending beyond what they could afford. Soon he would be a rich man. “You’re right, Vadim. But still, I’ll be nervous until it is done.”

“My friend, you do your part and my men and I will do ours. Do not call me again, until tomorrow.”

The Governor closed his cell phone and put it in his pocket. He knew what he had to do next. Time was counting down and he and Vadim had scripted the job down to the end. He put on his caving gear and entered the tunnels.

Jack and Ross burst out of the condo tower doors onto the street. Ross had the roll of plans tucked under his good arm. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed immediately by thunder which reverberated through the air. Strong winds swept the rain through the air. “Better stick those under your jacket, Junior. Don’t want them getting all wet.”

Ross struggled getting the plans inside his windbreaker with his good arm. He grimaced as the end of the roll bumped his hand sticking out of the sling, which forced his arm back in a direction that hurt.

“Let me help you.” Jack grabbed the roll, pulled back the jacket, and pushed them against Ross’ right side. “Clamp down on that.” Jack snapped up the jacket, sealing the plans inside.

“Where’s your car?” Ross asked.

“I ran over here from Nicollet Island. I’m parked back by the hotel still. Where’s yours?”

“This way.” Ross ran across the street like an escapee in a straight jacket. His right arm held the plans against his chest under his windbreaker while his left arm, still in a sling, moved with his body. The loose sleeve of his windbreaker flew forward and back against the rhythm of his run.