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  The stream of water dissolved the dirt until it reached a three-inch thick layer of limestone. A drilling effect began almost immediately because of the softness of the rock. The water persistently punched at the crumbly rock until finally the stream broke through and plunged forty feet in a wide arc till it hit the bottom of a large cavern. The water joined the swift moving underground river and blended unnoticeably into the current.

  The large cavern, hollowed out through many millions of years of water erosion when the water level was much higher was seventy feet wide by sixty feet long. It had a series of old river passages that had dried up thousands of years ago forming a Swiss cheese effect in its limestone walls.

  The PVC pipe, succumbing to the constant water pressure, separated and hundreds of gallons of water began dissolving the dirt behind the three-inch thick cavern wall. The exit hole began slowly growing larger and larger allowing more and more of the dissolved dirt to flow into the underground river. This process continued undetected because of the brilliant design of the many sensors keeping the lake at a very manageable level.

  May 7, Saturday 11:14 p.m.

  Shady's Bar and Grill, Topeka, Kansas

  Sam (Stretch) Sidel was in a foul mood. Stretch was always in a foul mood. He had spent most of his adult life in one penal institute or another and he felt the world owed him big time. This latest temper flare he blamed on his goody goody brother Steve. Big shot at that computer company he worked for. Making megabucks. All he asked him for was a few lousy hundred to tie him over till his next break came along-the next rich widow he could sponge off. Sure most of them were ugly but, what the heck. They had the money and all he had to do was sweet talk them and tell them they were the most wonderful thing in the entire world. They were starving for attention and they almost shoveled the cash at him just for being nice to them. Once he drained them of their funds he would find another pigeon and move right in. Unfortunately, he usually couldn't stomach them after only a short while and he would steal everything he could and take off like a bird in their car. That was always the problem. The cops would always seem to know it was a stolen car when he drove past and he would always wind up doing time again.

  This is going to be different this time he assured himself. He had the ultimate plan. No more petty thefts. He was going for the big time. He would call his ex prison pal Frankie Medford first thing in the morning and lay it all out for him. When Frankie was released two weeks before Stretch, he had given him his phone number for his aunt's house in Ohio. Frankie had said if he wasn't there she would know how to reach him and they would plan a heist when they were both out of prison. Now was the time and Stretch had what he thought was the foolproof plan.

  The idea had come to Stretch when he had visited his uppity brother at Datafuture. He was left alone in his brother's elaborate office for a good half hour while Steve had attended to some dumb problem that had come up. His brother had just finished telling Stretch about the new resort and all the security arrangements his company was providing and how everybody that was anybody was going to attend the grand opening. Steve had acted like it was a big pain that he had to go and make sure all the rich people were protected from lowlifes like Stretch's pals. Stretch didn't really argue about that fact because he knew all his friends were losers but that didn't give Steve the right not to give his own flesh and blood money when he needed it. Steve had used the old excuse that if he didn't get a job and earn his own money then it wouldn't mean anything and he would just blow it on drugs and booze. His brother might be correct in what he was saying but Stretch still didn't think Steve would shun his own little brother.

  When Steve's phone rang he had asked the caller if the problem could wait but apparently it couldn't so his brother promised he would be right back. Looking around the office, actually snooping, which was definitely in Stretch's character, he discovered a gold mine in the third file drawer he looked in. There were four copies of the security setup along with complete blueprints of the entire resort. Stretch figured no one would miss one copy of the plans and blueprints so he had stuffed them under the cheap sports coat the prison had supplied and wasn't too upset when his brother had handed him only sixty bucks and wished him good luck finding a real job.

  May 8, Sunday 9:31 a.m.

  Shady’s Bar and Grill, Topeka, Kansas

  Sam(Stretch)Sidel drummed his fingers impatiently against the steamy glass on the inside of the front window of the bar. The rain had abated for fifteen minutes then clamored down twice as hard as before the lull. The pay phone was attached to the front wall next to the window and the pelting from the rain made the previous conversation with Frankie almost impossible. Frankie had promised to call him right back but the phone remained silent. Just as he was about to say "fuck it" and go back to his rented ramshackle room the phone rang.

  "Where the hell have you been?" He shouted into the phone. "I've been waiting over an hour for you to call me back."

  "Calm down son." Came an elderly voice on the other end of the wire. This is Frankie's aunt calling back. He wanted me to call you and tell you he will call you back at two thirty sharp. He said he had something to do that was very important but, he would make sure he called you at two thirty."

  "Okay dammit. But tell him I'm not a happy camper. I've been waiting in this stupid bar listening to the stupid pouring rain while stupid Frankie was doing something stupid. Just tell him I'll be at the phone at two thirty and he'd better call me then."

  "I'm sure he will dear. I'll make sure he calls you. Bye now."

  Stretch slammed down the phone and peered through the misty glass at the clock hanging over the jewelry store across the street. Five hours to go he thought. What the hell am I going to do for five hours? He decided to go back to bar and down a few drafts to kill some time. He had been Shady’s Bar and Grill since 8:00 am on Sunday morning. They opened early since they were low class enough that they did not want to miss out on any paying customers no matter what day of the week it was.

  At precisely two thirty Stretch walked back over to the pay phone and breathed a sigh of relief because the rain had quit about one hour before and he might be able to actually hear a conversation. He was thinking that Frankie wouldn't call but he was in a lot mellower mood since he had consumed eighteen Budweiser drafts while waiting for two thirty to roll around. The phone rang at exactly two thirty three and he reached out a shaky hand, picked up the black receiver, and placed it carefully against the side of his head.

  "Hello. Is that you Frankie?"

  "Yea, it's me Stretch. How ya hangin. I heard from my aunt that it was raining cats and dogs out there. You stayin dry?"

  "I'm okay Frankie. What was so important that you couldn't call you're ol' pal Stretch back?"

  "Oh, you know that dumb ass albino, Carrie, who got released the same time as I did. He was messin with some teenage pimple faced fat broad last night. Giving her beers and smokin a little dope over at the park. Just when he thought he was gonna slam bam her, she pulls the miss prissy act and he slapped her up the side of the face. Well this little female Pillsbury Dough Boy goes runnin and yells at the first cop she sees that, she has been sexually molested. Well, the cops came runnin up and Carrie like the dumb ass he is, is still standing where she left him behind some bushes. His pants are hanging around his ankles. He's got a beer in one hand and his thing in the other and a big smile on his face still thinking the fat broad is coming back. Well, they let him pull his pants back up and then they cuffed him and hauled him away. He called me up first thing this morning, ballin his eyes out and I guess I felt kind of sorry for him cause we've been hangin around for quite a long time and all he was doing was trying to get laid. So I guess I have a soft spot after all. I was out this morning rounding up some bail money to get the poor guy out of jail. Anyway, what's so important that you got your underwear all knotted. Did you find us a good job or what?"

  "Yeah
Frankie. The best yet. How does about two mill sound to you?"

  "What do we have to do? Break into Fort Knox."

  "No Frankie. This is a piece of cake. You know my little brother Steve. I told you about him the last time we were in the pen together. How he works for that big wheel computer company and all. Well, he has designed a security system for this new resort in Florida that is opening in June. I've got the floor plans and the complete set of all the security systems."

  "No shit! I heard all about that resort on the news. They're planning a big grand opening and all the rich people are going to attend. They were naming off names on the TV that would be fitting for a coronation of a queen. I know there will be big bucks there. Everybody wears their real ice to a place like that so they can try to impress each other."

  "See what I mean Frankie. At least two million will be there just for the plucking. I'm taking the next bus to Ohio so I can discuss all the details with you and show you these plans. I'll be there sometime tomorrow."

  "All right Stretch. Congratulations for the great work and I'll see you when you get here."

  May 9, Monday 3:14 p.m.

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Stretch Sidel climbed off the Greyhound bus with a battered suitcase in hand and headed for the row of pay phones along the inside wall of the bus terminal. He reached in the pocket of his prison issued suit trousers and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper that he had written Frankie's aunt's number on. He pulled his last quarter out of the other pocket and fed it into the coin slot. He reached a shaky hand out, he had just finished the fourth pint of rot-gut cheap whiskey, that he bought before leaving Topeka, on the bus before it pulled into the terminal, and dialed Frankie's aunt's number. The phone was picked up on the second ring and the aunt answered in her sweet elderly voice.

  "Hello. Janice Halpern here."

  "Yeah Janice. This is Sam Sidel from Topeka. Is Frankie there?"

  "Oh hi Stretch. It is Stretch isn't it? That's what Frankie calls you."

  "Yeah it's Stretch. Is he around?"

  "Yes he is Stretch. He just finished a nice hot lunch of leftover pot roast that I made him and he is still sitting at the table smoking a cigarette. Let me get him on the phone for you."

  "Stretch you made it. Where're you at?"

  "I'm downtown at the bus terminal. Why don't you shag your ass over here and pick me up and we can go somewhere and talk. I've got a lot to tell you."

  "Okay Stretch. I'll borrow auntie's car and come pick you up and we can go over to Freeman's pool hall. They have a few quiet tables in the back and we can sit back there with a few pitchers of beer and discuss what we are going to do. I'll pick up Carrie on the way at his rooming house so we don't have to explain everything twice. I'll be right there."

  "I'm not going anywhere Frankie. I'll be out front when you pull up and by the way bring some money. This trip cost me the rest of my money. I don't even have enough to buy a beer."

  "No problem Stretch. That little bitch dropped the charges this morning on Carrie and they refunded the bail money. I won't worry about paying it back for a while so I've got some up front money for us to work with. See you shortly."

  Frankie pulled up to the curb in front of the bus station in an old Fairlane station wagon and beeped sharply on the horn. Stretch who had been staring out the front window pushed open the glass door of the terminal and walked slowly over to the car, opened the rear door and threw his suitcase behind the rear seat and climbed in on the clear vinyl seat cover.

  "Well I made it Frankie. What a drag riding that stupid bus. I never want to do that again. How ya doin Carrie? Long time no see."

  "Hey, I'm doing okay except that incident in the park. I guess Frankie told you about that."

  "Yeah, what a bummer. But shit happens you know. Hey Frankie. How far is this place? I'm dying of thirst."

  "Right down the road a stretch. Five minutes tops."

  They pulled into the back parking lot of a faded brick building and went in the back door. A haze of smoke hung close to the ceiling over the short bar that had every stool filled. Frankie nodded to the bartender and told Carrie to pick up two pitchers and three mugs, flipped a twenty at him and led Stretch into a side room. The air was much clearer in the vacant room and they sat at one of the four tables in the small enclosure. Carrie came in the door awkwardly carrying the two pitchers and he had three mugs balanced on his arms next to his chest. He asked Frankie to grab the mugs first and then he set the pitchers down, beer sloshing over the tops of both of them.

  "Can't you do anything right you moron?" Frankie admonished him with a look a punished puppy might give after making a puddle on the middle of the kitchen floor, Carrie sat obediently down and tried to catch up on the conversation.

  "So you see." Stretch was explaining. "We can disable the alarm system from inside the mountain so that none of the push buttons will work and we can take out the posted guards one by one with a quick injection that will just knock them out for a few hours. That is the outside guards I'm talking about. That way we don't draw attention to ourselves before we get inside."

  "Well, I have a few really important questions. Like where are we going to get the stuff to inject the guards with and how will we get close enough to do that?"

  "Okay. You remember my cousin Terry don't you? We used her for a lookout on the Timberland job three years ago."

  "Yeah, real cute broad. Pixie looking blonde."

  "Well, I've already talked to her and she's hard up for dough again. I explained to her that I wanted her to go up to the guards one at a time and ask directions on how to get to somewhere in the resort. I told her I wanted her to wear something that showed lots of cleavage and really tight stretch pants. When she gets the guards total attention, staring at her like you know they will, one of us will sneak up behind them and give them a quick jolt. This stuff I'm picking up from my pal, long neck Luther, will work in about five seconds. Not even long enough for them to let out a little yelp by the time they figure it wasn't a bee that stung them. It'll be smooth as glass. When we have the guards handled and the alarms off we can waltz right in the back door and do our business. There won't be any guards at the inside of the back entrances because they think they are covered by the outside. There are no security cameras at the outside back entrances either. Just on the inside and by the time we are inside we'll be all dressed up and just look like regular guests anyway. I know where the switch is to disable the camera over the front desk and they won't be concerned if only one camera is out. Neat plan huh."

  "Well, Stretch. It looks like you covered all the bases. If I think of anything else, we will still have time to hatch it out when we meet in Florida. Sounds like a real winner to me."

  June 11, Wednesday 11:50 p.m.

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  The single tear oozed painfully over the purple tinted swollen lower eyelid of Connie Littlefield’s left cheek and landed soundlessly on the cold metal floor of the stolen van. Her unkempt long black hair, revealing her Indian heritage, was entwined in trembling fingers as she sobbed quietly. The gentle swaying motion of the vehicle reminded her of almost forgotten memories of a full bloodied Sioux mother, who would gently rock her to sleep while softly chanting ancient tribal songs the white men were never blessed to hear. The happy parts of her childhood were soon over washed with torrid waves of hate, as the bitter flashes of abuse from her white-man father surrounded her like multicolored spotlights on an aspiring actress. The deep throbbing in her bruised arms highlighted the infectious needle marks decorating both appendages and she wished she was somewhere very far away. Frank Medford, still going by his adolescent nickname, Frankie, leaned over the short back of the driver’s seat and yelled much louder than was necessary in the confined space “Quit your whimpering bitch or I’ll let ol’ Carrie boy have a shot at you. You’d really like this freaky albino straddling your legs, wouldn’t you?
If you two had a kid with your dark and his pasty white skin it would come out looking like a damn shadow. Hell, I bet I could sell it to a sideshow and make a million bucks.”

  Carrie Petringelo, with the thought of climbing on the Indian, started squirming in the passenger seat and picking at the soiled crotch of his baggy denims.

  “Oh come on Frankie, let me do her up right. I’ve wanted a piece of that since we picked her up last week.”

  “Shut up you moron. You know I don’t share anything, especially my women. Now get out that map and find the closest way to the interstate. We have to be at the resort by Saturday morning if we’re going to pull this off, right? I’m not going to miss out on my share of two million dollars just so you can get your rocks off.”

  Carrie, the disappointment from his failed sexual tryst evident in his voice, told Frankie to make the next right and drive straight until it ran into 264. Then take another right onto the highway and it would run into Sixth Street which would then run into Interstate 75.

  “Just remember, numb nuts, we have to make at least one, possibly two more heists before we have enough up-front money to pull this off.” Frankie hissed.

  “Don’t worry boss. We’ve got plenty of time to get to central Florida. It’ll only take us twenty hours to get there, even if we do the speed limit. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Connie Littlefield, sobbing even more quietly than before, began wondering what these two maniacs were going to do to her after this so called heist was over. She, over the last few years of what she wouldn’t even call a life, had run into a few crazies like Frank Medford. They seemed really nice at first. Buying a few drinks for the lovely lady, this lovely lady being down her last twenty six cents, giving her money for the juke box, in reality a cd player, and really coming off as a guy that was just looking for a little fun while he was passing through town.

  The first hint of trouble and that weird albino, Carrie had arrived at the same time. The first glimpse of the real Frankie had momentarily surfaced when Carrie entered the bar and came over to the table where they sat and whispered something in Frankie’s ear. It was almost as if a dark wave had passed over Frankie’s face but, it was gone as soon as it had started.