The Getaway (Sam Archer 2) by Barber Tom

Author:Barber, Tom [Barber, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-28T04:00:00+00:00

They moved on to a pub called Blaggard’s, an Irish joint two blocks away on 35th Street. As they approached the place, Archer realised it was ironically pretty much across the street from the Starbucks which he and Gerrard had used as a meeting ground. It was moderately busy inside, the odd customer at the bar or at a table, but the place had a low-key and dull vibe. Music tried to force its way out of old speakers mounted on the walls, and the lights were dim. All in all, it was a pretty dreary place. Farrell went to the bar whilst Archer walked to a table away from the bar so they could talk without being overheard. The bartender pulled the cap on two beers, and Farrell dropped a ten on the bar and carried them over, taking a seat.

Silence followed. Archer didn’t feel compelled to speak. He was waiting for Farrell to start. There was a television mounted on the wall behind the bar, but it was showing some kind of sports show, nothing interesting or eye-catching.

‘Feels strange, that I’m leaving this city,’ Farrell said eventually, taking a long pull from his beer. ‘Lived here my whole life. Born in Queens, been here ever since. Never even left the goddamn state before.’

Archer nodded, drinking from his own bottle. The beer was good, just about the only thing that was in this place.

‘You know getting out of here isn’t going to be straightforward,’ Archer told him. ‘You said you’re taking all kinds of heat from the cops and feds. The FBI won’t just let you go or forget what you guys have done.’

Farrell nodded.

‘Yeah, I hear you. But we’ll make it. Trust me. We’ve run circles around these assholes so far. We’ll keep doing it, all the way to the cabanas.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, I can’t stay here, man. I’m two strikes in the hole. If I hang around, they’ll find a way to put a third on me. That puts me away for life. And I’m never going back to jail.’

He paused.

Archer drank from his beer, and said nothing.

‘We pulled another job yesterday,’ Farrell said, his voice low. ‘Took two hostages. First time we’ve ever done that.’

‘Seriously? Did you kill them?’

Farrell shook his head.

‘Tate was the one who held them,’ he said. ‘Once the job was done, he just walked out and left them be.’

‘Could they I.D him?’

‘He was wearing a hockey mask. And he also told them what would happen to them if they tried.’

‘You ever kill any cops?’ Archer suddenly asked. He couldn’t help himself.

Farrell looked over at him. Paused. Then he shook his head, taking a long deep pull from his beer.

‘No. Not yet. Haven’t needed to.’

Archer read his face. He wasn’t lying.

‘What about feds? Surely robbing banks puts you in their crosshairs?’ he asked.

Farrell nodded. ‘Of course. If it came down to it, then yeah, we’d probably have to take some of them out. But I try to make sure it never comes to that.

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