D EA D LY WATE RS A SILV E R S T R E A K ™ NOVEL
Deadly Waters A Silver Streak™ Novel Copyright © 2022 D.K. Latta SILVER STREAK™ and related characters and elements appear by special arrangement with Lev Gleason® Incorporated. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review. ISBN 9781988247915 Library of Congress Control Number: 2022943486 Cover design by Cindy Leong with images from Jack Binder Printed in the United States of America Published by Lev Gleason Library an imprint of Lev Gleason® 1203 Dundas St. W. Toronto ON, M6J 1X3 Canada 1421 Deer Trail, Denton, TX 76205 USA Visit https://www.levgleason.com/lev-gleason-library
D.K.
L AT TA
D EA D LY WATE RS A SILV E R S T RE A K ™ N OV E L
Daylight Robbery T
he windows of the downtown skyscrapers shimmered like mirrors under the midday sun. A gentle breeze danced through the concrete canyons, impishly stirring the skirts of women on the street, but not so vigorous as to cause men to clamp down on their hats. Cars bustled and growled through the busy avenues. They would bunch up at intersections until, when the lights turned green, squeeze on again like toothpaste squished from a tube, belching grey tendrils in their wake, a rotten egg smell left to hover over the sidewalks. It was a vista prettier to look at than to smell. The city dwellers were used to these imperfections. Most barely noticed the odours as they hurried to and from work or to appointments. Or as they sat on benches and chatted with friends or fed the pigeons. Or made sure their guns were properly oiled and loaded. Wait – what? you might well ask. A quartet of men sat in an unremarkable 1939 green Ford sedan parked by the curb, a few doors up from a jewellery store. The hollow-cheeked man behind the wheel watched his rear view mirror. As an armoured truck came beetling around the corner he raised his eyes to another car parked across the street. He tipped his hat. A man in the other car nodded curtly and returned the gesture. 1
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“Here it comes,” he growled to the men sharing the car with him. As the truck eased up to the curb in front of them, the four men casually stepped out of their car, punctuated by a single thud! as all four doors shut simultaneously. The four men mimed looking at the surrounding buildings. One pointed toward an upper floor, as if maybe arguing over an address. From the corner of their eyes, they spied the security guard drop from out of the truck’s cab and glance their way – then his eyes moved on, unconcerned. Two of the men had pistols they carried under their jackets. Two carried reliable Thompson machine guns, which they hid under the skirts of their trench coats. Across the street the men in the other car had likewise disembarked, and were similarly equipped. The armoured car guard and the store security guard came out of the jewellery store, carrying a couple of locked boxes. The men up the street from the store didn’t call out or give a warning or anything so sportsman-like. Instead, their weapons sprang to hand and the noise of traffic was shattered by the chortle of gunfire, and the stink of exhaust was infused with the Hellfire smell of cordite. The locked boxes crashed to the sidewalk as the store security guard tumbled over, blood blossoming on his leg. The armoured truck guard dove in front of the truck, putting it between him and his attackers. He fumbled his gun free of its holster, almost dropping it, clumsily tossing it from hand to hand like a hot potato as he tried to bring it to bear on the gunmen. Declan Barrymore was twenty-three, had been working for the armoured car company for eight months, and this was the first time he’d had to pull his gun while on duty. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph. Jesus, Mary, Joseph,” he muttered over and over. His finger randomly squeezed the trigger insuring the street lamp above the gunmen’s heads would never threaten anyone ever again. Undeterred, the gunmen hugged close to their own car and spewed a torrent of bullets in his direction. The store security guard, clutching his leg while still sprawled on the ground, pressed his face to the pavement and hoped, Ostrich-like, that made him undetectable as bullets swarmed overhead. 2
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The leader of the gunmen grinned crookedly as he blasted away at the armoured truck. He wasn’t doing any damage, of course. But he didn’t expect to. Or need to. Because there was still his compatriots across the street nonchalantly approaching the concealed security guard from the man’s unguarded flank. They raised their guns. All was going to plan. #
Let’s step back for a moment – before things get too nerve-wracking for any readers of a more delicate disposition. Indeed, if it helps to assuage such readers, it’s worth knowing that everything resolved reasonably well within a few minutes. The injured store security guard spent a few weeks in hospital, it’s true, but there he met a young nurse who would eventually become his wife. The armoured truck guard took the whole incident as a sign from above and quit the next day. He moved out to join his brother in Hollywood where he ended up pursuing a career in animation and was later part of a team that would be nominated for an Academy Award. Of the eight would-be robbers: three subsequently cleaned up their acts and went straight; three spent the rest of their lives in and out of trouble; one died in prison. The eighth later became a junior senator from a northern state. Which might sound like it would make an interesting story. And maybe it would. But not this one. Indeed, the would-be robbers and the guards were only minor players in this story. Which is why it’s worth pausing the action and turning our attention to a small café situated across the street. Manny’s Delicatessen was an eatery of indifferent prices, food, and service, and had never in its ten years of business been ranked by the Michelin guide. But it was convenient and discreet and enjoyed a steady lunch hour clientele. This day, that clientele included a duo seated in a booth by the window. They were an unlikely duo, and had the waitress taken even a passing 3