Page 101 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

JEFF PENNEY AND Virgil Tighe crouched down and used their hands to clear away enough sand to reveal a set of buried chains. They each gathered up a thick length of chain.

“Ready?” Jeff asked.

“Hold up,” Virgil said. “Why don’t we use the power lifter in the truck on this thing?”

“Because we don’t need the power lifter,” Jeff said. “What, did working in Capital’s executive suite make you soft?”

“That’s the whole point of being an executive, my friend,” Virgil replied, grinning and patting his ample belly. “You get nice and soft while everyone else does the grunt work.”

“Even people at the top,” Boo said, “need to get their hands dirty once in a while.”

“Come on, let’s do this,” Jeff said. “One… two…”

On three, they pulled on the chains that were welded to a large steel plate; it did not move easily. Soon the two men were sweating, even in the desert cold. The plate seemed to move only a fraction of an inch at a time.

After they’d pulled for several minutes, the steel plate shifted, revealing a good-sized hole in the ground. The men dropped their chains to look. Boo joined them and used the flashlight app on her phone to illuminate the contents of the hole.

Four heavy pallets of cash.

And a box containing six hundred million dollars’ worth of rare and precious gems.

The billion dollars in ransom had never left the airstrip.

“I can’t believe this worked,” Boo said quietly, sounding almost reverent. “I’ll admit it, boys, I had my doubts.”

“I learned this trick from bank robbers we chased over the years,” Jeff said.

“The smart bandits hid their loot in the last places most cops would look. You know, like the trunk of an abandoned car parked a few blocks from the bank. Hell, this one heist team I knew stashed their booty inside a medical-waste facility. Dirty needles and bandages and everything.”

“Stashing money in a dumpster is one thing,” Boo said. “But leaving a billion dollars in cash and jewels out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Genius, right?” Jeff asked.

“I still don’t know how you managed to make the switch with everyone on the task force watching,” Boo said.

“That’s just it,” Jeff said. “There was only one set of eyes on this airstrip. My eyes. Once the chopper landed, it blocked the team’s view of the hole, and Virgil did his thing.”

“Just a simple billion-dollar sleight of hand?” Boo asked.

“Wasn’t too hard, really,” Virgil said. “I had a couple of Schraeder’s warehouse guys with me.

They both have records, so they’re not going to say jack shit unless they want a one-way ticket back to Leavenworth.

Once they pulled the plate off the hole, I used the power lifter to take out the fake pallets and case.

Put the real ones in the hole. Loaded the ringers onto the Bell. Took a couple of minutes, tops.”

“And then you dumped the ringers somewhere near Mount Baldy,” Boo said. “What happened to the helicopter?”

“Stripped and set on fire in the Mojave,” Virgil said. “So it hasn’t been recovered?”

“If it had been,” Jeff said, “I would have heard about it.”

The three conspirators stared down at their treasure.

“Well, boys,” Boo said, “congrats on pulling off the crime of the century.”

The former second in command at Capital allowed himself a tiny smile.

“Look at me, forgetting the champagne.”