The Interdimensional Heist

By Thomas MacRae

A group of misfit tries their luck for an early retirement. When their first heist did not go as plan, suspicion grew among them. Is there a traitor within their little circle? What they discover however, was an adventure unlike any other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Happy Gazelle PLT
• Release date: Aug 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386139041

Thomas MacRae

Thomas MacRae is an avid reader and a financial market watcher. When he's not writing, Thomas can be found in the frozen section isle of his local supermarket, cross-examining the produce. They are usually fresh on Tuesday mornings.

Book preview

Prologue

At first it was just Sam and Buzz.

Sam called Buzz Buzz because he used to wear his hair short. He hated the nickname, so he grew his hair out, but then he just had long greasy curls falling around his shoulders and a nickname that didn't make sense. Buzz was a big guy, so nobody but Sam said anything about him looking like a member of KISS went on an all-lard diet.

Buzz called Sam Sam because his given name was Samuel and Buzz got tired after the first syllable. Sam didn't understand that. He could talk for hours without getting tired. He was proud of being able to talk himself out of all kinds of situations. These mostly consisted of jobs and relationships. He had tried talking himself out of a speeding ticket once, but had almost talked himself into prison.

Buzz talked slow because he thought slow, but he was Sam's oldest friend and he had saved Sam from being on the wrong end of a losing fight more times than Buzz could count. About twelve.

Rico was the third member of the group. He met Sam and Buzz at a construction job where they were installing drywall in a jewelry store on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Sam took to him immediately. Rico had come up to Vegas from Acapulco, as he put it, to have a good time. This didn't stop him from being a good worker for the first four hours of his shift, but by twelve o'clock, he'd get a wild look in his eyes and start to twist up the ends of his waxed moustache. This meant he and Sam and Buzz were about to cut work and go tearing down the strip in Rico's beat-up truck, looking for trouble. They would usually find it.

Buzz didn't care much for Rico, but he followed along because of his loyalty to Sam and because he couldn't think of much to do on his own.

Finally, there was Slide. As far as first impressions go, Slide did not strike Sam as what Sam called a stand-up guy when they first met. This meeting took place at four o'clock in the morning on a Saturday night. As was his habit on weekends, Sam was staying up to greet the sunrise before he went to bed.  One of the four locks to the front door of the tiny apartment rattled, startling Sam, who had begun to nod off. He had convinced himself that it was nothing when the second lock clicked open. By the time the third lock clicked open, Sam had armed himself with a baseball bat he kept for such occasions. It wasn't hard. The apartment was small enough that he could reach anything from the couch, which doubled as his bed.

He crossed the room in three stealthy strides and stood by the door, feet apart, shoulders square, choked up on the bat.

The final lock clicked open. A tense moment passed. A few more tense moments passed. Sam stood there for another minute and a half before realizing that the would-be home-breaker had left.

He flung the door open so that it banged against the opposite wall.

Ain't you got the decency to go through with a robbery? he shouted down the hallway to the retreating figure. He had actually been disappointed that he would not get to stop a home invasion. It was something he had been looking forward to since he purchased the bat at a local thrift store.

The kid turned around and Sam nearly shut and locked the door. He couldn't have been older than seventeen, but a wrinkled, red patch of flesh revealed that he had been badly burned from somewhere under the right lens of his sunglasses all the way down to his chin. It wouldn't have been so unnerving if his face didn't maintain a constant calm. The kid wasn't big; he looked like a toddler who had been stretched out to five and a half feet tall, but he moved with a cool confidence, approaching Sam as if he was ordering a cheeseburger instead of walking up to a grown man with a baseball bat whose house he had mostly broken into.

You have good locks. The kid's voice was raspy, like a tarantula eating another tarantula inside a box made of sandpaper.

Yessir, said Sam, regaining his composure. I don't waste time or money with cut-rate products. Medeco's the best in the business.

The kid shrugged. Evva's better.

Sam turned to examine the kid's handiwork. Not a scratch could be found on any one of the locks. This is clean work. You burned through ‘em all in what? Two minutes?

The kid glanced down at his digital watch. One minute and forty-three seconds.

Slid through ‘em like butter. You got any other skills?

He shrugged. A few.

Tell you what, Slide, Sam took a receipt and pen from his pocket and discretely checked for a reaction to the new nickname. There was none. You give me your phone number and I think you and me can go places.

That split second was the only time Sam ever saw him hesitate. He could've blinked and missed it. Slide took the pen and gave Sam his number.

Chapter 1

Sam, Buzz, and Rico were building another one of the million cut-rate hotels that popped up on the outskirts of Las Vegas. The idea was to provide a place where people who didn't make much money could stay. They could walk around the strip, play some penny slots, and then say that they had been on a real Vegas vacation.

Sam had worked at the job for three months, nearly a record for him. A promotion hadn't come his way in all that time, so, being industrious, he took it upon himself to start acting like a manager.

Hey, Buzz. You missed a spot.

Sorry about that Sam. Thanks for pointing it out. Buzz went back over the drywall he had been painting.

You don't have to listen to him, man. Rico shot Sam a dirty look. If he knew what he was doing, he'd be up here painting with us. It was only eleven, so Rico had at least an hour of work left in him.

I feel like I've put in my full share of labor today. Sam laid back on the cooler that he had placed in the shade for this express purpose. In fact, I was thinking of—

A rough kick to the cooler on which he reclined interrupted the flow of his thoughts. The offending foot belonged to the site manager.

Glad you finally showed up, said Sam. I can't get a bit of work done, since I'm busy managing these two. Without supervision, I think they'd be fool enough to bring this whole operation down around our ears.

Why don't you leave the supervising to me, Sam?

Clearly because you're doing a crummy job of it. The sound of paintbrushes halted. Sam knew he'd crossed a line and, hoping to save himself, added, Sir.

The argument that followed was long. Both of them said things they regretted, but they said more that they didn't. It ended with Sam walking away jobless with only his hardhat and his manager's lunch. He chewed the sandwich thoughtfully as he strolled down one of Las Vegas' poorer suburbs. Buzz and Rico had followed him off the work site, much to the manager's displeasure.

Boys, he said, It's a rigged game we're playing, and so long as we play by their rules, it's always going to be a rigged game.

Who's them? asked Buzz.

Sam ignored the question. Now, we've been working on things that everyone needs—hotels, jewelry stores, antique shops—and only receiving a tiny sliver of the profits for pay. Now, being the ones who worked so hard on these buildings, we're the only ones who know their strengths and weakness. That gives us the chance to even the odds a little bit.

You're saying we should rob all these places. Rico did not sound like he approved of the plan.

I'm saying we take the money we should have been paid in the first place. Nothing huge! We're not robbing banks here. We're not taking any hostages. We just need enough to give us a chance.

What's going to happen when three guys who don't know anything about robbery show up at a jewelry store? Rico eyed him pointedly. They get arrested, that's what.

First of all, Sam said through a mouthful of ham sandwich, It won't be us three, I've recruited an expert. Second of all, can you really afford to argue, Rico? You just quit the only decent job you had.

Rico didn't look happy, but he also didn't say anything else, so Sam decided that he'd won the argument.

***

Slide. There was a pause on the other end of the phone. For a moment, Sam thought Slide had forgotten his nickname, but then he realized he was waiting for him to continue. Can you get me a car?

More silence. Finally, from the other end: Sure.

Good. We don't want it to be traced back to us.

Slide answered with another long pause.

OK. Meet me on Saturday. We've got plans to go over.

The next day they met at Rico's place. Rico lived with his girlfriend in an Adobe house situated in a plot of red dust. The prickly shrubs clinging to the ground weren't enough to stop the wind from whipping up dust devils, so by the time Sam made it to the front door, he was covered in a fine coating of red Nevada grit.

He was shaking his boots out on the carpet near the front door when he felt their gazes on him. Buzz and Rico glared daggers. From a dark corner of Rico's living room, he saw the glint of Slide's sunglasses.

A kid? said Rico. You're going to rob jewelry stores with a kid? He rolled the corners of his mustache up disapprovingly.

Yeah, I don't know about this one, Sam. Buzz had his arms crossed, which he did when he didn't agree with something Sam was doing. He had his arms crossed most of the time.

First of all, said Sam, slipping on his now dust-free boots and making his way to an open ottoman, He's not a kid. Second of all, even if he is a kid, he's a wizard. Sam produced a lock he had brought just for this occasion. Medeco. Top of the line. He threw the lock to Slide.

Sam didn't even have time to give Rico a glance that said, I told you so, before the lock clattered into three pieces.

Rico's dark eyebrows shot up to join his hairline. Buzz looked from the lock up to Slide and back again, his face in pure disbelief.

Alright, said Rico. But I still say this is a bad idea.

Sam snorted. The plan is simple, he began.

***

The next day, the four of them met up in front of Rico's house just as the red sun began to dip below the horizon and the blacktop began to cool. The car Slide pulled up in was a beauty.

What a beauty! Rico crossed the chrome grille of the cream luxury car. 1973 Jaguar XJ12. Tan leather on the inside. Cream exterior. That's a classy choice.

Buzz doubled over his pot belly to look at the hubcaps. That's a pretty nice car, Slide. Must've been some rich folks you stoled it off of.

Slide shrugged.

Without any sort of discussion, Rico took the driver's seat. Sam slid into shotgun. Buzz joined Slide in the back.

By the time they made it to the jewelry store, located about an hour outside of the city, night had fallen and the store had been closed for an hour. This was all according to plan. What wasn't according to plan was the fact that the side door, located along a wall free of camera surveillance, was wide open.

Guess they forgot to close up, said Sam, laughing uneasily from the passenger seat.

I don't like this. Buzz's arms had been crossed for the entire ride over. I don't like this at all.

Sam turned to face him. Look, they're asking to get robbed. We'd be idiots not to rob them.

Rico's fingers tightened around the wheel. It's at least worth checking out. He sounded far from certain.

Sam pulled a ski mask over his face and the others did the same. As quietly as they could, Sam, Slide, and Buzz crept to the open door. Rico stayed in the car and kept the engine running.

Sam eased the door the rest of the way open with his trusty baseball bat. They had agreed that they didn't want to shoot anyone, but Buzz had a prop gun from a theater class he had enrolled in.

Hold on, Buzz said, fumbling through his pockets. I left my gun in the car.

Sam motioned for him to leave it and inched his way into the shadows of the storeroom.

Slide was already at the electrical box, with a small flashlight. Already done, he hissed.

What? Sam hissed back.

Someone took out the power.

Son of a gun! Someone went and did our plan! He barged through the next room and, just as he feared, the jewelry cases were bare. But that was the least of their worries. Beyond the glass storefront, the lights of a squad car blinked red and blue. Two policemen approached the front entrance, guns in hand.

Sam backed out as fast as he could. Go! go! go! Police! Slide didn't need to be told twice.

Please what? asked Buzz. Sam shoved him out the door.

What happened? Asked Rico after they piled into the car. Did you get the diamonds?

The place was already robbed! said Sam. The cops were there, but I don't know if they saw us. Maybe if we go out the back way real slow...

A police siren ruined any hope of that. Rico gunned the engine and they tore out of the parking lot, leaving only exhaust and skid marks.

They drifted into the parking lot of a JC Penney, the wheels smoking as they spun. There's a back way that should take us to the highway, said Rico. He screeched around behind the stores and opened up the engine. The cops made the turn seconds behind them, but the Jaguar could accelerate much faster and the distance between them was widening.

We're losing them! Sam shouted to Rico. He said nothing, focusing on the road.

Sam was busy watching the car behind them, so the hard left Rico made into a darkened outlet caught him off guard. His shoulder hit the passenger side window hard and he buckled his seatbelt as quickly as possible. It wouldn't do to forget safety at a time like this.

When they skidded onto an on-ramp, the cop was a blue and red speck in the distance.

Slow down, said Slide.

Rico eased on the brake until they matched the speed limit. They merged on the darkened highway. Sam scanned the other cars. Every white car with a ski rack nearly gave him a heart attack. Suddenly sirens blared. They had already resigned themselves to a life in prison when a group of police cars rushed past on the adjacent highway, headed back to where they came from.

Too late coppers! laughed Rico. It was just enough to tempt fate. An unmarked car behind them lit up his lights and Rico stomped the accelerator, cursing.

This exit. Slide pointed to the exit about four lanes over and, without looking, Rico swept through all four lanes, prompting a chorus of car horns and screeching tires. Four of those tires belonged to the undercover cop, but Sam could see him screaming into his radio.

Take a right, said Slide. Even in all the excitement, his voice maintained an eerie calm.

Rico followed his direction without hesitation. The distant sirens grew louder and the horizon behind them seemed to burn with flashing lights.

We need to get somewhere safe now! Rico ignored Sam's panicking, and focused on Slide's directions. He wove between traffic, moving so fast that the other drivers were too surprised to honk. When he took a turn, he glided without losing speed or even leaving his lane. Had they not been terrified for their lives, they might have taken the time to appreciate the art of what he was doing.

The backroads and small towns became a blur. Finally, they ended up on a road that dove down into a canyon, red rock closing them off on either side.

If they cut us off now... Rico didn't need to finish. The thought lingered in all their minds and Rico coaxed the engine into a high whine.

Slide leaned forward and pressed a button on what looked like a garage door opener that hung from the sun visor. Turn right... now!

Sam thought they were pancakes on some godforsaken canyon wall in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada. When he opened his eyes, though, he found that they were alive and fully three dimensional. The narrow road cut into the canyon had been invisible from the main road, a direct right angle hidden by the canyon wall. As he looked behind him, he saw a black gate lowering on automatic tracks, blocking the entrance. No sooner had it reached the ground than a dozen police cars flew past.

The breath that Sam had trapped in his lungs for the past hour finally escaped in the form of a huge sigh. Well, that could've gone better.

You shut your mouth! Rico nearly sent the car into the wall of rock as he turned to point a finger at Sam. You nearly got us killed!

Buzz moaned from the backseat. Christ almighty. My heart can't take this. I got low blood sugar in my family. I can't be running around like this. I don't even go to the doctor regular. I swear, I got the palpitations back there. He went on, but I'll save you the trouble.

As Buzz whined in the back seat, Rico still hadn't finished giving Sam an earful. I swear, if you—where are we? Rico had just noticed their surroundings.

They rounded the top of the canyon to see a massive white block of a building. If there had been windows, it would've been a dozen stories high. A lower section extended outward about halfway up, forming an open balcony.

The construction of the building alone was enough to hold their attention, but the whole thing was surrounded by a lush garden. The trees held multi colored blooms and strange birds flitted from their branches. More surprising, the trees grew from a bed of grass. Not the dry, brown scrub of the desert, but lush, green