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Authors: Eric Walters

BOOK: Fool's Gold
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“No,
you're
wrong. There's also the coal chute in the basement.”

“That ain't a door.”

“You can get in or out through there. It's an exit!”

“I think four is the correct answer,” Little Bill said. “Now, finally, where are they holding Mrs. Braun?”

“She's been locked in a room up on the second floor, but she was right there in the room off the entrance when we left.”

“I see. Thank you for your cooperation. This is a much better outcome than the alternatives. Now I need all three of you to take off your clothes.”

“What?”

“Your clothing, take it off. We require it. Strip down to your underpants.”

“You gotta be joking.”

“No joke.” Little Bill reached out, took hold of the fabric of the one man's topcoat and rubbed it between his fingers. “Very nice, certainly nicer than anything I could ever afford. Obviously crime
does
pay. Now, remove your clothing, and please, if I have to repeat my request I will not be
nearly
so polite.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE THREE GANGSTERS WERE LYING ON THE GROUND
. They were in their undershirts and shorts and were tied up, ropes around their ankles, wrists and necks. There was a rag—actually one of their own socks— stuffed in each of their mouths and held in place with tape. Just off to the side Bill and two of the agents were arguing over which clothes from which of the gangsters fit them best.

“George, before we go in I need to ask you a question. Did you tell this Dom fellow how many bars of gold you had in the truck?”

“I told him that there were twenty bars in the truck plus the one I gave him, for a total of twenty-one— just what you told me to say.”

“And what did he say when you told him that?”

“He told me that I didn't have twenty-
one
bars, I had twenty-
three
.”

“Are you sure that was the number he said? Positive?”

“I'm positive. You told me it was important to remember, so I know that's what he said.”

“You did very well, George,” Little Bill said.

“Thanks. I just did what I had to do.”

“No, you did more than that. You modified the plan when the situation changed, as a good operative should. Now, you still have one more task. Are you ready? Are you both ready?” He looked at Jack as well.

“We're ready,” we agreed.

“I must also warn you that this operation will be extremely dangerous. You are entering an unpredictable, potentially lethal situation. It is highly likely that somebody will die—perhaps many people will die—before this is resolved.”

“We'll take our chances. We just want to make sure our mom is safe,” Jack said.

Little Bill didn't answer at first. “I cannot guarantee her safety, or the safety of either of you boys. Now I need to be sure: do you still wish to be part of the plan?”

“I don't see how you could do it without us,” Jack said.

“We could have you remain here at the truck and watch the prisoners. Then we could rush the building, perhaps go in through the coal chute. There are alternatives.”

“Nothing as good as this plan,” I said. “This is the best chance of getting our mom out alive, so we need to do this.”

“I agree, and I appreciate your courage. Again, I want you both to know that you are not just helping to save your mother, you are also serving your country.”

“We're just trying to get our mother out,” Jack said.

“And trying to make up for what we did,” I added.

Bill reappeared. “What do you think of my new clothes?” he asked.

“Very becoming. Perhaps after the war is over you could find employment as one of those models in the Eaton's catalogue selling men's clothing.”

All three of us laughed.

“Twenty-three,” Little Bill told Bill.

“Twenty-three?”

Little Bill nodded.

“I'm not completely surprised,” Bill said. “I'll take care of the problem as soon as we get back.”

“Perhaps not immediately.”

“But wouldn't it be better to deal with it before he can do any more damage?”

“We need to assess the situation. First we need to know if he is leaking information to anybody else.”

“Give me twenty minutes alone with him and we'll know everything we need to know,” Bill said.

“I have no doubt you could get that information, but we might lose as much as we gain.”

“How could that be?” Bill asked.

“Because then you won't be able to use him any more,” I blurted out.

“Very good,” Little Bill said. “Bravo, George, you truly have the makings of a first-class operative.”

I felt my chest swell with pride.

“Somebody want to explain it to me?” Jack said.

“Certainly. Knowing about the informant—but with him not knowing we know—we can feed the man information we want him to pass on, to mislead others. It might be better for us to allow him to stay in place—at least for now.”

Little Bill walked over to the stand of trees where the three gangsters were tied up.

“Gentlemen, I need you to fully appreciate the way that you are bound. There are the obvious ropes around your wrists and ankles, but I want you to pay particular attention to the loop that is around your neck.”

I hadn't really noticed that until he mentioned it. Just under their chins there was a loop of rope that led down to their ankles.

“The loop is fairly snug at this point, but if you move your feet or hands the struggling will cause the rope to tighten. In fact, if you struggle too much you might actually cut off your air supply
completely
. You might just lose consciousness due to air loss. You might even strangle yourself to death. It would be a most uncomfortable way to die, so please, for your own sakes, move as little as possible and do not attempt to escape. Oh, and try very hard not to sneeze.”

Little Bill walked away and we followed him.

“Everybody please gather around,” he said, and all six of us crowded around him.

“We all know our roles. We know what we must do. We are placing our lives in each other's hands. I want to assure you that I have complete faith and confidence in each and every member of this team. I
know
we will succeed.”

Jack drove the truck slowly up to the end of the driveway, lights off, and then pulled it to a stop. He turned off the engine and put on the emergency brake.

“Okay, we're here,” he said.

“Jack, George, if bullets start flying you two are to hit the floor and stay there until I tell you it's safe to get up,” Little Bill said.

“We'll stay down,” I said.

“I'd feel better if I had a gun,” Jack said.

“Strange, I think I'd feel rather worse,” Little Bill said, and Bill and the two agents in the truck laughed. “No guns for the boys. And everybody else, remember, if we can, we want to take the leader, Dom, alive. Shoot him if you must, but do try your best to avoid killing him. Let's go.”

Jack and I got out of the truck first. Next, Bill, dressed like one of the gangsters, climbed out the side door. Next came Little Bill—he was still playing the wounded Red—and then two more agents, all of them
dressed in the fancy clothing and fedora hats of the men lying in their underwear in the woods. All of them had their hats pulled down so that the brims cast shadows over their faces, making it impossible to make out who they were.

We'd dropped the final agent off at the end of the street. He was circling the house, hoping to come through the back once we'd got everybody's attention focused on the front of the house.

Little Bill flung an arm around Bill and one of the other agents. They had to look as though they were carrying the “wounded” man into the house.

“Slow and easy,” Little Bill said softly.

Jack and I led the way up the driveway. We had to be first to partially block the view of those watching from inside the house, but to also avert suspicion. If we were there, a couple of kids, then everything had to be pretty innocent, going the way they wanted it all to go.

I looked up. There were faces at the living-room window, and I could also make out the image of two thugs standing at the door, waiting for us.

We reached the top of the porch stairs and one of the gangsters opened the door for us. I walked in and looked around. Neither Dom nor my mother was anywhere to be seen.

“Aren't you going to help Red?” Jack asked the two thugs.

“Sure, of course.”

They practically tripped over each other as they squeezed through the door and stumbled down the steps. And then, like lightning, Bill and the agent on the other side of Little Bill reached up and smashed the men on the heads! The two of them dropped like rocks to the ground! Little Bill burst through the door, almost immediately followed by the other three. The two agents ran into the living room.

“Hands up!” one of them said.

I couldn't see around the corner but the silence spoke volumes. I could picture those men who had been staring out the window frozen in place with their hands in the air.

Little Bill pointed to the room off to the other side and Bill moved through the door. Little Bill continued straight down the hall, his gun leading the way, held in both hands, waist high.

“George,” Jack whispered. “You follow Bill and I'll go with Little Bill.”

I grabbed his arm as he started away. “Are you crazy?” I hissed at him. “We gotta stay here.”

“We gotta find Mom,” he said.

He shrugged off my arm and started down the darkened hallway. I couldn't even see Little Bill. This was crazy! We were far better to just stay put. If we went any farther we could just get in the way … maybe even get in the way of a bullet. I knew staying was the
smart thing to do. I also knew I wasn't going to be doing the smart thing.

I doubled back and ducked into the room where Bill had disappeared. It was dark, the only light coming in from the hall. Standing in the only lit spot didn't seem like the right thing to do. I dropped to the floor and on all fours began moving forward. Quickly my eyes adjusted. It was dim, but not dark.

I could make out the furniture—a chair and a big sofa, and there was a piano. I worked my way around the room, staying close to the wall, until I came to another doorway. Off to the left was another hall, probably doubling back to where Jack had gone. To the right was a set of stairs leading to the second floor. That was where they'd been holding my mother. Since she wasn't in the living room, where I'd last seen her, they must have taken her back upstairs.

Slowly, I crawled over to the stairs. Like a little dog I started to climb up, step by step. There was a runner in the centre and I stayed right in the middle of that, the better to silence whatever sounds I might be making. There was a little bit of light coming down the stairs and I followed it upward. I stopped at the top, peeking around the banister, using it as a shield. I could see five—no, six doors. One of the doors—the one closest—was slightly open. The next door was closed but there was light coming out from under the edge. That was the room I needed to get to. I started
crawling forward. Low to the ground seemed like the best place to be.

Suddenly the air exploded with gunfire. I practically jumped before I scrambled forward and then rolled through the open door. I pulled it almost completely closed to shield myself. There were five shots, no six, or seven, or ten—so many that I couldn't even count them! They sounded like they were coming from downstairs. Then there was silence. What had happened? I stayed perfectly still, trying to think through my options. Who had shot whom? Was everybody okay?

“I want to know what's happening out there!” yelled out a voice. It was Dom's, and it sounded close. “Somebody talk to me!”

There was silence.

“John … Simon … Nick!” Dom yelled. “Somebody talk to me, tell me what's happening!”

Again there was no answer.

“They aren't able to talk to you.” It was Little Bill. His voice—as always—was calm and in control. “Four of your men are dead and the rest are being held at gunpoint.”

“Who are you?” Dom called back. He sounded nearly as calm as Little Bill.

“I am the man who will help decide whether you will walk out of this situation or be carried out of it, feet first.”

“You'd better know that if you kill me I won't be the only one to die. I have a hostage.”

A hostage. That could only mean …

“And you really wouldn't want this nice lady to get shot, would you?” Dom asked.

There was no answer right away.

“I would prefer that nobody get killed, but that decision will be up to you. I'd rather make a deal that could benefit us all.”

“Why would you make a deal with me?” Dom asked.

“Because you have something we want. We want the name of your contact inside the camp.”

“What if I told you I didn't know what you were talking about?” Dom asked.

“Then I'd tell you that you were lying. Would you like to make a deal?”

“I would. Here's my deal. I walk out of here with this lady and nobody follows me, and then I let her go a few miles from here. How's that sound for a deal? I'm coming out now and I'm going to make my way to the stairs. Anybody tries to stop me … if I even see anybody … I'm going to shoot her.”

“Wait!” Little Bill yelled out. “First let me clear the house so that nothing happens accidentally.” There was a slight pause. “I want all agents to leave the premises immediately … go off the property, and leave the keys in the truck!”
He couldn't be serious about that! How could he trust this man to keep up his end of the bargain? He could get away and then just keep our mother prisoner, or even shoot her and dump her on the side of the road.

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