Adjourned by Lee Goldberg

Author:Lee Goldberg [Goldberg, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Suspense
Publisher: Adventures in Television
Published: 2009-08-05T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Richard Nixon and Darth Vader held Uzis and stood in the bed of the pickup truck E.T. had just driven through the bank's plate-glass window.

"Everyone facedown on the floor," Nixon yelled over the shrill alarm. "If I see anyone's face, I'll blow it off."

The nine lunch-hour customers and the dozen bank employees didn't argue with the three men in the rubber masks. Everyone in the convex, window-walled bank lobby dropped to their knees and flattened themselves on the glass-strewn floor.

E.T. left the truck's engine running and bolted from the cab. He vaulted over the bank counter and moved quickly to each teller's window, stuffing handfuls of money into a large gunnysack.

Darth Vader, standing in the truck's bed with Nixon, caught a movement on the floor. An old lady was raising her head. "Get down!" he barked.

"I can't," she whined, looking up. "There's a sharp piece of glass tha—"

Vader squeezed the trigger of his Uzi. Her body stuttered back along the floor as bullets bit into her head and spit out blood. Fearful screams from the panicked employees and customers joined the frenzied wail of the alarm.

"Goddamn it, why did you do that?" Nixon shouted. "C'mon, we've got enough cash, let's get out of here!"

"I don't believe I saw you boys sign a withdrawal slip." A voice behind the three robbers stopped them cold. They turned and saw Brett Macklin standing in the doorway, the .357 Magnum at his side.

Macklin caught a jerk in E.T.'s gun arm, crouched, and spun on his heels, firing twice. The slugs punched into E.T.'s stomach, lifting him up and tossing him back into a row of desks.

Macklin then threw himself sideways as Nixon raked the doorway with retaliatory gunfire. The bullets chased Macklin, shattering the glass above his head as he scrambled behind the bank counter. The customers quivered on the floor, the staccato beat of gunfire echoing in their ears.

Vader climbed into the driver's seat of the truck, shifted it into drive, and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The truck shot forward, knocking Nixon off balance. Macklin popped up behind the counter and fired.

The bullets slapped Nixon off the moving truck and sent him toppling backward into a potted palm. Macklin strode from behind the counter just as the truck smashed through the plate-glass window on the opposite end of the bank. Raising his gun arm, Macklin looked down the length of his barrel at the truck screeching madly south on Century Park East. And then he squeezed the trigger.

The truck burst apart in a red-orange thunderclap of flame, gnarled metal and glass shards streaking through the air. Macklin shoved the gun under his waistband, pulled his leather jacket over it, and rushed out of the bank just as it erupted into chaos, the frightened people on the floor clambering to their feet.

He dashed onto the sidewalk and trotted up the street against the current of Century City businessmen charging to the bank. His heart was racing and his body was drenched in sweat.

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