David Hosp - Among Thieves

“You the guy givin’ us such a hassle out there?” he yelled at the guard. The kid couldn’t have been older than twenty-two.

“Sorry, Officer,” the guard said. “I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to let the police in. I was told no one gets in after closing.”

“That’s the dumbest fuckin’ thing I ever heard,” Devon pressed. He looked at the Irishman. “You ever heard anything so fuckin’ stupid? It don’t even make any sense.” He turned back to the guard. “You wanna try again?”

The guard was nervous now, Devon could tell. That was the goal-make him nervous. Some ratty little pot-smoking musician-slash-security-guard would be naturally scared of the cops, and fear would make him compliant. “I don’t understand,” he said. “That’s what I was told.”

“Bullshit,” Devon shot back. He stepped in close and examined the kid. He was so close that the guard involuntarily pulled back from the security desk. “Don’t I know you?” Devon asked him.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, I do. I busted you three months ago down on Mass Ave, right? Possession, or some shit like that. You never showed for your court hearing. Bad mistake; you probably would’ve gotten probation, but judges don’t like when you skip. We got a warrant out for your arrest.”

The guard shook his head so hard, Devon thought he might break a vertebra. “You’ve got me confused with someone else, Officer. I swear it.”

Devon made his eyes go dark and he moved toward the desk. “You little shit! You callin’ me a fuckin’ liar? I swear to God, if you are, I’ll make you fuckin’ pay. I know a bunch of guys down at Corrections; I make one phone call, and you’ll be fucked so hard in jail, you’ll shit spunk for weeks. You got that!”

“Yes, Officer, but I swear you never arrested me.” The guard was in a panic now, and Devon could literally smell the fear on him. For a moment he wondered whether the kid had pissed his pants.

“You got someone else here, a partner?”

“Yeah,” the guard stammered. “He’s just finishing his rounds. I called him, and he’ll be right down.”

“He better be, because you’re in a shitload of trouble, and we’re gonna have to deal with it. Is there anyone else here?”

“No, sir, just the two of us. I don’t understand why I’m in trouble.”

“Get your ass out from behind that desk,” Devon ordered. The guard hesitated. “Move, you little shit! Or I will make you wish you’d never been born, I swear it!”

The guard relented and walked around the desk. “What? What do you want from me?” he asked.

“I want you to shut your fuckin’ mouth, and I want you to move over toward the wall.” As the kid moved toward him, Devon knew it was all just about over. It was unlikely that, even if the guard realized there was a problem now, he could get back to the desk to set off the alarm. Still, Devon wanted to play the role out so that it would make the rest of the evening as simple as possible.

“This is ridiculous,” the guard said. “I haven’t done anything!”

Devon spun him by the shoulder and pushed him in the center of his back toward the wall. “Keep talkin’,” he said. “It only gets worse.” He shoved the guard against the wall and kicked his feet. “Spread ’em,” he said. The guard spread his feet. His hands were already up against the wall. “Now put your hands behind your back,” Devon said.

“You’re making a serious mistake,” the guard pleaded.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Devon said. “I’m gonna call this in and run you through the system. But right now, I want you to put your hands behind your fuckin’ back!” The guard put his right hand behind his back, and Devon closed the handcuff around his wrist. Almost there. “Now the left one.”

The guard put his left hand behind his back, and as the second cuff closed, Devon realized he hadn’t frisked the kid. Not that it really mattered-he knew the guards weren’t armed. But no cop puts someone in cuffs without frisking him first. He turned the guard around and smiled.

“You’re not the police, are you?” the guard said.

Devon could feel his smile broaden.

Just then the other guard walked around the corner from finishing his rounds. He saw the first guard with his hands cuffed behind his back, and the two police officers standing there. “What’s going on, Officer?” he said.

Devon nodded to the Irishman, and passed the first guard over to him. Then he moved toward the second guard. “This asshole’s under arrest,” he said. “You’re next if you don’t watch it. I want you up against the wall, now.” He was manhandling the guard, who was so taken by surprise he wasn’t even resisting.

It took less than five seconds for Devon to cuff the second man, and by the time it was over, the last chance the guards had to avoid disaster had slipped fully away. All he said as Devon put the cuffs on him was, “I don’t understand why you’re arresting me!”

Devon spun the man around. “You’re not being arrested,” he said evenly. “This is a robbery. If you don’t give us any trouble, you won’t get hurt.”

“They don’t pay me enough to get hurt,” the guard said.

Devon smiled. “Good. You boys keep your mouths shut and don’t tell the police anything for a year, and we’ll send you a reward.” Neither of them replied to this. “Which way is the basement?”

“Down the hallway,” the second guard said, motioning with his chin.

Devon nodded again to Liam. “Downstairs,” he said. They walked the two guards down the hall to a doorway that led down to the basement. As they walked, Devon questioned the two captives briefly. “No more guards, right?” he said. That was the information they had-that there were only two guards on duty at night, but that sort of intelligence can be wrong, so he figured he’d confirm it.

“Just the two of us,” the first guard said. He seemed to be the senior of the two, though he was only in his early twenties.

“No other external alarms, right? Other than the one behind the desk?”

“No other alarms.”

Devon stopped them on the stairs. “If you’re lying and the cops show up, the first thing I’m going to do is run down here and put a bullet in your head, okay?”

“I understand.”

Devon looked at the man, but saw no evidence of deception on his face.

They led the two men down to the basement and found two posts about a hundred feet apart. They had the men turn around and bound their hands and feet tightly with duct tape. Then they tore strips and put them over the guards’ mouths and eyes. They pushed them down on the ground and taped them to the posts. “Nighty-night, boys,” Devon said. “We hear any noise and we’re coming down shooting. Remember what we said.” He looked at Liam and nodded.

They were in, and they hadn’t even needed to pull out their guns. His job was done.

Detective Stone arrived at the waterfront at dawn. The buildings were silhouettes against a gray sky to the east, and a light mist hung in the air, reflecting what seemed like a thousand blue-and-red flashing lights. Police tape blocked the driveway, and a bleary-eyed patrolman directed him to park on the street. “There’s a lot of ground to cover in there,” he said to Stone. “It’s gonna take the crime scene boys a while to finish.”

As Stone got out of his car and started walking toward the driveway, another car pulled up and flashed its brights at him. As it pulled alongside him, Sanchez rolled down the window. “You just getting here?” she asked.

“I just got the call,” he replied.

“Me too.” She looked toward the driveway. “Ballick?”