Page 406 of Devil’s Disciples

In the past, Baker objected to any offering that opposed his pre-conceived plans. We soon learned that it was Baker’s way, or no way at all. Considering our success rate, arguing with him regarding procedure when it came to a job was a difficult thing to do.

Having Ally offer an alternate plan—and seeing Baker accept it—was mind-boggling.

As she looked at Baker, waiting to see if there was anything else to be discussed, I admired her. Simply allowing her in the clubhouse meant things were changing for the Devil’s Disciples.

After his death, I realized Ghost was the glue that held the club together on each and every one of our escapes. Be them simple or complex triple-digit all-out escapes from the law, Ghost’s mere presence gave each of us something to believe in.

Ally didn’t have Ghost’s physical stature, but she certainly possessed talent. Her record at Lime Rock Park proved it. Only time would tell if that talent could be utilized to the club’s benefit.

After a moment, she noticed me looking and met my gaze.

I grinned, pridefully. Regardless of what the future held, I was proud of who she was, the ideas she offered, and of her talents.

I hoped one day the other men could see her in the same light.

Sadly, things would have to go to hell for her to show her true talents.

149

Ally

Although I once did, I no longer stole for the money. Making that claim seemed rather cliché, but it was true. The feeling of accomplishment and the rush were the two main reasons I did it. Nothing could compare to the heart-pounding thrill of opening a bank’s vault and stealing their cash reserve.

The energy-sapping tension—or the feeling of accomplishment—of outrunning the law in a high-speed chase kept me high for several weeks following the event.

The money?

The money was secondary. I had more of it than I could ever spend, I certainly didn’t need more.

It was the thrill that kept me in the game.

I grabbed the handle, paused, and then pulled down on it. As the wheel began to turn freely, I glanced in Tito’s direction. His glowing-green image grinned.

“Eleven minutes for a bank vault isn’t all bad, huh?” I asked.

He tossed Goose one of the backpacks. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe she’s robbing a bank in a cheerleader getup,” Goose said with a laugh. “Good job, Baby.”

Hell, I’d rob banks just to hear Goose call me Baby.

With my heart beating in my throat, I turned the safe’s massive wheel. When the pins were all retracted, I reached for the handle. My hands were shaking. “C’mon, help me out. This thing’s heavy.”

Robbing a bank’s vault can be a rewarding experience or a gut-wrenching disappointment. One never knows until the vault door swings open.

Banks with transaction amounts below 13.3 million aren’t required to have any cash reserves. Banks that range between 13.3 and 89 million are required to maintain a 3 percent cash reserve. Banks with transactions in excess of 89 million must maintain a 10 percent reserve.

The reserve can be kept in the Federal Reserve Bank. Most banks take advantage of that secure interest-earning option. Larger rural banks on Friday nights tend to have more money than most, as they anticipate many Saturday cash withdrawals, and don’t want to upset loyal customers by making the statement, we’re out of money. The wealthy don’t like hearing that “their” money isn’t in the bank.

A Wells Fargo Bank in a small town that’s surrounded by the wealthy is a perfect location.

That’s exactly where we were.

Rancho Bernardo was a one-hour drive from San Diego, in traffic. At one am, it would be half that.

When the door opened, it was immediately apparent it was going to be a rewarding experience.

A push cart in the center of the vault had stacks of banded bills sitting on it. Upon seeing it, my already overactive heart began to beat even faster.