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Everything got cold inside of Piper. Those three knuckleheads, still wearing their helmets, getting themselves all pumped up right in front of a bank.
“Oh, don’t tell me,” she said. “No, no, no, do not tell me you fucking idiots arethathopped up on meth.”
Then, the Tweaker Patrol all pulled guns out from underneath their jackets, and Piper’s worst fears were confirmed.
“Of course,” she said. “Of course you assholes would be so stupid as to rob a bank.”
She glanced over at Pony. He was still watching the tweakers, still on his phone. Whoever Pony was calling, must not have answered, because he hung up and put his phone away without saying a word.
By the time she looked back, the tweakers had already charged into the bank. Piper fought down the urge to get out her badge, draw her gun, and charge in after them.
That was a terrible idea, one for action movies and amateurs. There were any number of innocent bystanders in that bank, and having a sudden shooting contest in the middle of them would only endanger all of those civilians unnecessarily. Better to let the robbers do their thing, hopefully without incident, and let them make a run for it. Once they were out of the bank and hopefully even out of town, it would be much, much easier and safer to deal with them.
She watched and waited, taking note of the time in case she had to bear witness in court and testify as to what she’d seen. Unlikely. There were cameras everywhere in the bank and outside of it as well; one of the many reasons why it was a terrible idea to rob a bank in the first place.
Piper took another look at Pony, trying to read his expression. Was he a lookout for the robbers? Or involved in some other way? It was impossible to guess.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ringing of the bank alarm, blaring and wailing, as the three bank robbers burst out of the front door, all flailing limbs and waving arms as they scampered clumsily toward their motorcycles. Each had a small backpack, no doubt to carry the money. The last of the robbers hadn’t secured his properly, and loose notes flipped and flittered out and behind him like a trail of floating breadcrumbs.
It was like a scene out of a movie. Desperate, dumb bank robbers, rushing and hurrying to make their escape, leaving a scattered trail of bills floating in the air behind them.
“Time to make the call,” Piper said, pulling out into traffic while she dialed 911.
The robbers were already on their bikes, tearing off in a squeal of burning tires. That squeal was matched by the blaring of car horns as the robbers nearly hit several passing cars in their reckless bid to escape.
It would’ve served those idiots right, if they had rushed out of the bank only to smash headlong into a random minivan in their haste to get away. But, the three robbers narrowly avoided that collision, one of them flipping the middle finger to the hapless minivan driver as they pulled away and sped off down the street at high speed.
Piper tried to glance to see what Pony was doing, but a white pickup truck was in the way, and then, the 911 operator answered and she had to focus on that.
“This is FBI Special Agent Badge number 37263,” she said, loudly enough for her phone to hear her while on speaker. “211 in progress, First Fidelity Bank in New Warrington. Three suspects, fleeing on motorcycles. Female undercover in pursuit.”
Then, she forced herself to concentrate on the road, accelerating to pass the white pickup truck. Once she did, she could just barely see Pony’s Harley pulling off in the same direction as the bank robbers.
“God, Pony,” she said out loud. “What are you doing with these guys?”
8
Pony shook his head, still in disbelief as the bank robbers tore past him on their bikes. He’d known these guys were dumbasses, but he had no idea they were this level of reckless and stupid.
“Dickheads,” he said to himself, as he started up his Harley and pulled out in pursuit.
Not in any rush, though. A cruiser like his Harley wasn’t cut out to try to keep up with a street racing bike, and in any case, following too closely would tip off the robbers that he was following them. He had the tracking device to tell him where they were going, so he could keep a safe distance and not risk being spotted.
He thought back to the conversation he had with the three bank robbers while he was at the street bike race the night before. After Piper had come across the finish line, Pony had thought it might be a good idea to approach the three of them as if to smooth things over.
In reality, he wanted to try to get a better sense of who these guys were. Of all the racers there that night, if anyone was into something sideways, it would be these three. And the only way to find out if they were into something, was to push them for information and see what shook loose.
Once all the racers were back at the starting line, Pony waited until the three of them seemed settled, standing aroundtheir parked bikes. He approached them slowly, nodding to the tall one when he met Pony’s gaze.
“What do you want?” the tall one said.
“Look, man,” Pony said. “I wanted to come over here, make sure there were no hard feelings. We just came out here to race, you know?”
It had really stuck in his craw, approaching these assholes with his hat in his hand, when they were the ones who were playing dirty all throughout the race. Not to mention the one with the rotten tooth pawing at Piper… although that guy had already paid for his transgression when Piper had dropped him like a hot rock.
The three of them stared him down. He kept his face neutral, not smiling, not scowling. He’d learned a long time ago that the most effective way to de-escalate a situation was to not feed a single ounce of emotional energy into it. Don’t provoke them by glaring at them, don’t encourage their aggression by grinning like an idiot and looking like a victim. Keep it completely neutral, and don’t give them any input to react to.
“Whatever,” the tall one had finally said, turning his back on Pony.
