White Collar: An unofficial novel - part 10

Old con men never die

Neal was squeezed into the backseat between two of the thugs in the crew. Ganz took the front passenger seat. As they drove in silence Neal had to fight the urge to look over his shoulder to see if they were followed. If they did not have the FBI on their tail, there was no way Peter would know where they were and he was on his own. The anklet had its perks.

The car stopped under a bridge.

"We're going to be hitting the truck en route," Ganz told him. "We need you to I.D. the archived paper." He pulled gloves on. "You think you can handle it?"

"This isn't what I do." These guys would shoot to kill if they thought it necessary.

"It is today." Ganz threw something black into his lap. The others pulled their balaclavas over their heads and Neal knew what he held in his hand.

There was little else to do than to follow their lead. He could walk away and if he survived, Ganz would still rob that truck. Only without him, Ganz would walk free. As would Ford.

A white armored truck came their way and close enough, Ganz's driver stepped on the gas and they blocked the route and the truck stopped. Another car came up from the back and blocked that way too.

"Go, go, go!" Ganz yelled as he jumped out of the car, raising a rifle.

The drivers seemed unmoved by the weapons that were pointed at them. Not strange at all, Neal thought, because it would need a smaller bomb to get through to them.

"Get out of the truck now!" Ganz commanded, but the driver just shook his head. Then he held up something to the driver. "You recognize her? That's your daughter. I'll be sure to take good care of her once you're gone. Get out!" The driver opened and stepped out. Ganz grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to the back of the truck "Open it up!"

Naturally, the driver opened.

"We got cops!" some of the others called out as sirens were heard.

"It's showtime, kiddo!" Neal sighed and got out of the car and hurried inside the back of the truck.

"Get on the ground. Face down!" he heard them call to the two guards. Neal hoped they would keep their lives. He heard sirens wailing in distance "Come on, come on. What's taking so long? Get back there and help him."

One of the thugs appeared in the doorway. His only 'help' was to yell:

"Move it! Move it!"

Finally, Neal found what he was looking for.

"Here. This is it." He pulled the box down from the shelf and handed it to the thug who almost dropped it by its weight. He moved the next box to the door and another of the crew was quick to pick it up.

"Time to go!" Ganz yelled and Neal jumped out and got inside the car. Two seconds later they were driving away. They pulled their balaclavas off, switched cars, and parked just a few blocks from Neal's home.

When they walked along the sidewalk Neal figured out where they were going. He had not known that the place was still there. Ganz opened and was welcomed by Ford.

"Hey. It's good to see you, kid," he chuckled. Then he glanced at Ganz. "Any problems?"

"It went down like you said."

"They bringing in the paper?"

"Yeah."

Neal studied the printing equipment filling up the old club.

"One last score, huh, Ford?"

"He's smart, isn't he?" Ganz mocked, gesturing with a gun in his hand "It's time for you two to get to work."