“I was about to close it up, so we had no customers. The owner, Mr. Conley had left early for a date. He trusted me, someone I’ve known for a while. My mother worked for him, and I worked for him before I was drafted, then when I came back on an honorable discharge 6 months ago, he had a job waiting for me.
“The man obviously had something hidden under his coat, but like I said, probably a delivery for the government. I saw him and asked ‘What can I do for you today, sir?’ when he pulled out a pistol and told me to get down on the ground. I obeyed his commands, fearing for my life. He then walked over to the cash register and told me to open it and then threw a small bag at me. I emptied the cash register and then he told me to open the vault. I opened it, and now I regret it. I should have taken the bullet, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been shot.” Pete took one more deep inhale and finished it off. Then he drew more air, and sounded like he was severely shaken. A little jittery almost.
“We keep about 500 thousand dollars in cash in the vault, and about a million more in priceless gems and gold. He emptied almost the entire vault, including my box, which had all my money and a few items of both sentemental and cash value I inhereted from my parents. The robber tied me up and locked me in the vault until you found me.”
“Well Private,” started General Sullivan. “This is an unfortunate matter, and I personally thank you for your brave commitment to the bank.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Pete replied, seeming less agitated and much calmer.
“You may go son,” one of the officers said. “We got what we wanted.”
Pete rose and shook all the men’s hands and thanked them for their hospitality and the
cigarette. He limped his way out the door. “Poor kid. What did you say general, shot in the leg on his descend and then fought off a couple Nazi’s?”
“Twelve Nazi’s,” General Sullivan corrected. “He was found several hours later, unconscious from blood loss. We couldn’t give him a medal because the drop wasn’t supposed to happen, only him and three others parachuted. The three others were not found. We sent him home two weeks later. Peter Levein said he was okay with not recieving a medal, he just wanted to help his country. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he still holds a grudge. Most men who receive the Medal of Honor haven’t done anything like that. Plus, the U.S. military and the rest of the government does a lot of business with that bank. It holds many secrets we don’t want the public to know about. If Levein took things from our box, he could reveal secrets greater than Area 51. Get the FBI to investigate, I want this to be a priority. Focus on Levein.”
Pete walked into his home in Georgetown, Washington, D.C. like any other day. it was somewhat secluded, multiple trees in the front yard blocked much of what happened inside of the house. Pete walked in to see the a man, dressed in an army uniform, with two large duffel bags already packed. The man was wearing the same aviators Pete saw yesterday at the bank.
“How’d it go?” said the man with an accent that indicated he came from somewhere in Alabama. “Did they interrogate you?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell them anything,” Pete answered. “I was even gave up a few extra details and they still don’t have any clue. Stupid army jocks.”
“Idiots,” replied the man. “Alright, I divided everything up in these two bags. Your stuff in this one and mine in this one,” he gestured to the bags on the floor.
“Did you put everything in my box in my bag?”
“Yeah.”
“And Box 965? Everything in there?”
“It was only a fairly thick manilla envelope, but it’s all in there.”“Swell work, Mike,” Pete said. “I owe you one.”
“Yeah you do, but lets go.”
Pete and Mike lugged their bags out the front door, hailed a cab, and were off towards Baltimore and an airplane.
“General! General!” cried an army office drone from across the hall. He ran towards General Sullivan. “I have new info on Private Peter David Levein, Sir!”
“Well son, what is it?”
“Well, there’s the stuff you already know, Sir. his background story of the war: Paratrooper, shot down, found a day later, honorably discharged. He lives in Georgetown, in a house his parents bought, but they are currently deceased. Works at the bank, and is close friends with the owner, Craig Conley. Lives with a man named Michael Scott Garretty, a Private who was also honorably discharged from France, another Paratrooper.”
“How did these two meet?” asked the General.
“Met in a hospital in Great Britain, Sir. Private Garretty has no close living relatives either.”
“Forget about Garretty, focus on the bank.”
“We did, Sir. The surveilence cameras show a man we beleive to be Garretty. His profile matches the same man who robbed that bank!”
The General stopped to think about it. His suspision on Pete had been correct. “Find Levein at all costs!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are preparing for our flight from Baltimore, Maryland, to New Orleans, Louisianna,” the pilot informed the other passengers on the plane. “Please buckle up and stay seated until we reach our destination. Thank You.”
The plane’s engines roared and the aircraft carrying more luggage than passengers soared south towards the place of interest. Pete was exhausted and promptly fell asleep soon after take-off. Something about a plane made him feel at-ease.
“Pete, wake-up.” Mike had been shaking Pete awake. “It’s time. I overheard the pilot talking to the tower that they should be on the lookout for two men carrying large duffelbags and dressed in army uniforms.”
“So lets go,” said Pete confidently. They stood and grabbed their bags. Mike had pulled out one of the pistols he used the day before and pointed it at the stewardess. Then he burst open the door to they cockpit and pointed at the pilots.
“Where are the parachutes!?!” Mike shouted. Pete had focused his attention to the rest of the cabin. The pilot pointed to a small cabinet unerneath the control panel. Two backpacks, each with a draw string. Mike grabbed them and threw one at Pete. They put them on, no one tried to stop them for fear of being shot, even though Mike and Pete had agreed not to shoot anyone.
Pete opened to door and turned to Mike. “See you down there.”
“Yep,” Mike Replied.
Pete tossed his duffel and Mike’s duffel out the door, and then they both jumped.
“We have found the Identity of the man who has robbed the George Washington Bank, Michael Scott Garretty. Along with this man, was an acomplice, Peter David Levein. Both boarded a plane from Baltimore to New Orleans and hijacked it. Both parachuted out at some point during the flight. All passengers and pilots are okay. We have no furhter leads on the matter, and that is all.” The army spokesman grabbed his papers and walked off the platform towards the door, fighting the mass of reporters.
“What a mess,” General Sullivan said under his breath.
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