Chapter 4
Three Men in a Van
(To Say Nothing of the Chauffeur)
Britt and Simon spent the evening with Casey and Kato, waiting for news. They got almost none. Bruce joined them just before 5 to relay Dick's report that the Batcomputer had come up with a list of Gotham residents known to have been in Century City the day before but hadn't found criminal records for any of them. DSTV News officially broke the news of Simon's bet with deLukens on both radio and TV at 5, which meant that the phone was ringing off the hook between 5:15 and 5:45 with reporters from rival papers calling Simon for comment before the press conference. Simon told one and all that he had nothing more to say than was in the Sentinel's story and referred them to Frank for updates on the bombing case, although his conversation with Sabrina Bradley was more cordial. (The Sentinel and the Daily Express were still rivals, but Britt's relationship with Sabrina had thawed significantly since he'd helped her get full legal control of the Express after Melissa Neal had gone to prison for her role in her uncle's murder.) Frank's only public update was that the police were pursuing new leads and there was no reason to suspect a threat to the general public, but all the questions from the reporters at the press conference had to do with Simon's bet, and Frank finally had to shut everything down when the reporters all started shouting questions over each other.
On that unsatisfactory note, Frank came over for supper, bringing Mike with him. Neither had any off-the-record news. And after supper, Britt sat down with Mike and Casey to work through some press business that couldn't wait for Monday, while Simon shared a cocktail and small talk with Frank and Bruce.
"You know, Boss," Mike said as the business meeting wound down, "I'm sure glad we've only got one more day of doin' things this way."
"Oh?" Britt asked. "You're not enjoying being in charge?"
"Not really—and it's not just trying to keep up with the paper and the radio and the television and write my features. It's… everybody I've talked to is just… i-i-it's worse than when you got shot. At least then we knew you were gonna pull through once the doc got you patched up."
"This time I'm not even injured."
"But I'm the only one who knows that! It's killing me to have to keep this secret while everybody else is down in the dumps!"
Britt put a hand on his ace reporter's shoulder. "I know, Mike. But as you say, it's only one more day. As soon as Simon wins his bet, things will get better."
Mike grumbled a little but seemed to accept the encouragement for what it was. Then Frank took him back to the paper, leaving the rest of the team to prepare for the night's adventures.
Bruce took his gate opener and drove past Meriweather Security shortly before 2 to get the gate's radio frequency while the night shift was turning in. It was after 3 when Simon, dressed in his own black suit and an old coat and mask of Britt's, joined Britt and Kato in the Black Beauty for their own drive. By common consent, they stuck to the back streets so as not to attract attention. Taking their time also made it less likely that anyone but the night watchmen would still be at the building when they arrived—but just to be sure, Britt had Kato park in an alley several blocks away and use the scanner to check for any surprises. Finding none, Kato returned the scanner and drove up to the gate. The lights in the parking lot were too bright for their approach to go unnoticed, even if they ran silent and dark—but then, they wanted the gate guard to notice them.
Sure enough, the guard came out of his booth as soon as he heard them turn into the drive. His eyes went wide when he finally recognized the car, but before he could bolt back into the booth to trigger an alarm, Kato gassed him. Simon put on a gas mask and got out while Britt used the gate opener; as soon as the gate was open far enough, Simon dashed through to drag the guard back to the booth and give him a mild dose of Batnesia to prevent him from remembering why he'd fallen asleep. By the time that was done, Kato had driven through the open gate, and Britt was closing it behind them. The process had caused just enough noise to put the second guard on alert by the time the car rounded the building, but the team gave him the same treatment as the first guard. Then Simon picked the lock on the back door, and they were in.
Inside, the three men split up. Kato went to the uniform storage room to locate uniforms that would fit Britt, Bruce, and Simon. Simon went to the file room to steal the necessary paperwork, including ID cards and name plates for the cover identities. And Britt went to the security room to doctor the tapes from the security cameras. There were closed circuit cameras throughout the building, he discovered, but he had been correct that only the cameras on the gate and the back door were recording. Even more fortunately, the cameras didn't display time stamps, which made it much easier to copy the right amount of footage without leaving any immediately obvious sign that the tapes had been altered. Once Kato got the uniforms out to the car, he joined Britt to help connect the timer to the recorder and position it such that it would fall into a trash can and self-destruct after serving its purpose. They finished at the same time Simon did and all went back to the car together, with Simon carefully ensuring that the door locked again behind them. Then they drove out of the parking lot and into the dark back streets, getting well out of sight before the guards could wake up.
Back at Britt's house, Bruce and Casey had already set up Britt's dark room and camera and a backdrop for taking photos of the ersatz security team, along with Simon's makeup kit. After Britt, Bruce, and Simon had changed into the stolen uniforms, Casey gave their faces a quick touch-up to alter their distinguishing features, and Kato took the least flattering photos possible. Then they changed out of the uniforms again, and while Simon and Casey set to work typing forms, Britt and Bruce developed the pictures in the proper sizes. Britt insisted that Kato get some sleep while they worked. By the time the pictures were dry and cut to size, the forms and ID cards were finished, and Bruce left Britt and Simon to paste the pictures in the right spaces while he scrubbed the makeup off his face and Casey fixed a fresh pot of coffee.
"Thanks, Casey," Bruce sighed as he came back and she handed him a cup. "I'd have offered, but neither Alfred nor Mrs. Cooper will let me within five feet of the coffee pot—even though it was Dick who blew it up the last time."
Britt and Simon exchanged a look and didn't comment.
"Do you have time to eat before you go to the airport?" Casey asked. "I could at least fix some toast."
Bruce checked his watch and nodded. "Toast and jam might be a good idea, thanks."
Casey nodded back and hurried to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a tray of toast, jam, and butter. Bruce scarfed down four slices before draining his cup, washing his hands, and rushing off to meet the courier at the plane, as if he'd just arrived from Gotham. Britt and Simon waited until he was gone to invade the kitchen and fix a combination of a chuck wagon breakfast and a full English breakfast. The scent of the food woke Kato, and they'd just finished setting everything on the table when Bruce returned, looking pleased but exhausted. Between the five of them, they ate every bite and made short work of the cleanup. Then Britt and his guests went to bed, leaving Kato to make excuses to any reporters who called.
The one call Kato woke Britt for was from Romero. "I'm tryin', Hornet," Romero pleaded, sounding significantly more worried than Britt thought he ought to be. "I swear I'm tryin', but the stories I'm hearin' don't add up. The trouble is, nobody saw nothin', not even whatever they did to kill the lights at the marina."
Britt sighed. "That doesn't surprise me. Given what little Simon has told me and what the police have said publicly, it sounds like a professional hit, and a professional knows how not to be seen."
"… You ain't mad?"
"Not at you, no."
"Oh, good," Romero said, audibly relieved. "Thanks. So, uh… about tonight… you sure you can't get Templar to call off the bet?"
Britt hung up and went back to bed.
Everyone was up and having an early supper when Frank stopped by at 4. "You're expected at Meriweather Security at 5:30 for a briefing," Frank reported. "Your shift officially starts at 6, and van der Berg's plane arrives at 8, but you'd better plan to go straight from Meriweather to the airport just in case. We've picked up five wanted criminals from the airport already, so there's a good chance you'll face at least one attempted hijacking on your way, possibly more than one. It'll still be daylight, but we can't be sure someone won't try something anyway."
"Any genuine roadblocks we should know about?" Simon asked.
Frank shook his head. "None. I double-checked. The only road closures are on the southeast side, well away from your routes to and from the airport. Of course, I can't rule out the possibility of genuine traffic accidents, but…."
"I've got alternate routes worked out in case we need them," Britt stated. "What about security at the airport?"
"Checkpoints at the service entrance gate and at International Arrivals outside Customs. Airport security is assigning two guards to watch the van while you're inside. And Customs has your names and descriptions as well."
Britt nodded. "Thanks."
"DeLukens and I will be waiting in a police car three blocks from his headquarters beginning at 8:30."
Britt nodded again. "I'll signal you when we're on our way out."
Frank sighed. "I sure hope this works."
"Oh, something's bound to go wrong at some point," Simon observed. "But I have done this often enough to have contingency plans for every potential problem I can think of and the ability to temporize if all else fails."
Frank smiled in spite of himself. "Just be careful, huh? We've still got a wedding in two weeks."
"Don't worry, Counselor. We'll get him to the church on time."
Frank's smile grew, and he left.
Simon had called a rental company that afternoon as Sebastian Tombs and rented a car, which arrived just after supper. Once he'd taken delivery of it, all the men got ready for their masquerade. Kato left first in the Black Beauty while Casey repeated her makeup job on Britt and Bruce and Simon did his own. Then Britt gave Casey a long kiss goodbye and a promise to call on the way home, and they were off.
This time they didn't try to dodge the gate guard. When he walked up to the driver's window, Simon smiled and identified himself—in a broad Italian accent—as Carlo di Cesari, Britt as Guido Vitale, and Bruce as Angelo Bertoli. (Bruce had originally suggested the surnames Santo, Calabrone, and Pippistrello, but Britt and Simon had both vetoed them as too obvious.*) "We come down from the Gotham office," Simon continued, handing the guard their ID cards. "The boss getta call yesterday from the big boss, say you gotta big job tonight, need extra men. E voilà, here we are."
In the shotgun seat, Britt grinned and nodded. He assumed Bruce was doing the same from the back seat.
The guard looked skeptical. "You all Italian?"
"Si, signore," Simon said. "We come from Roma, used to work together at the American embassy there. My friends, they don't speak English too good, but they understand plenty." They had hit on this detail to avoid the risk of anyone recognizing their voices—Bruce hadn't been on TV or radio in Century City nearly as often as Britt had, but they still didn't want to take any chances.
The guard stepped away for a moment to radio someone, presumably checking their identities against the personnel files the courier had delivered. He didn't look much happier when he came back, but he did give the ID cards back to Simon and let the car through the gate. The team faced a similar song and dance at the front desk, but they passed that check and were shown through to the briefing room, which was crowded with guards and policemen. Fortunately, Britt didn't recognize any faces other than Meriweather's.
The briefing mainly covered the points of the plan Frank had already relayed to Britt. The decoy van was to carry three policemen along with the three guards, and there would also be police cars in front of and behind the van. The real van was to maintain radio silence unless it was absolutely necessary to radio for help. The shift supervisor also warned the rest of the teams of ambush techniques to watch out for and reminded them to be extra vigilant in case an opportunistic thief decided to try something on the off chance that the diamonds were in another van. It was sensible advice, as far as it went, although Simon and Bruce had come up with about fifteen more ambush scenarios than the briefing covered.
When the supervisor called for questions, however, the first one had the potential for disaster. "Yeah, I got a question," said a brash young policeman—old enough not to be a rookie, but young enough to still have an attitude. "How come it's only the decoy van that's gettin' special protection? Why not put some of us in the van that's gettin' the real shipment?"
Simon coughed politely. "Scusi, signore, this shipment, she is very big, no, very valuable? Could be twenty, thirty cases. Is not enough room in the van for more men." That estimate would be more accurate for industrial diamonds than for the high-grade stones deLukens was expecting—earlier, Simon had told Britt he expected only one to five cases, each being about the size of two briefcases side by side—but it made for a convenient excuse.
The policeman glared at Simon. "Ain't I seen you somewhere?"
"Maybe," Simon answered with a shrug. "I been somewhere."
"I'm afraid Mr. di Cesari is correct," Meriweather interrupted before the policeman could escalate matters—or recognize Simon. "We haven't received dimensions for the shipment, so we need to leave as much space in the van as possible."
The policeman subsided with bad grace, so Britt was relieved but not surprised when the sergeant in charge of the protection detail assigned him to ride in the decoy van. Britt suspected the policeman was itching to peel off and trail the real van—whether his motive was to catch Simon or to steal the shipment himself wasn't clear—but either way, the sergeant seemed to be thinking the same things and wasn't about to give the kid a chance to disobey orders. Of course, there was still the chance that the kid would try to slip away during a fight, but depending on where and how the fight happened, he'd have a tough time catching up… and he'd have to get past Kato when he did catch up.
The briefing ended just after 6, and by the time Simon got the keys to the team's assigned van and all the other vans had left, it was close to 6:30. Britt was driving, Bruce riding shotgun, and Simon was in the back. To ensure they were the last out, Britt took his time checking the vehicle over and setting everything just so—including switching the van's radio over to the frequency he used in the Black Beauty. But he waited until they were out of sight of the building to radio Kato.
"The road to the airport was clear when I scouted it," Kato reported. "But there's been enough time for someone to set up an ambush since then."
"Thanks, Kato," Britt replied. "We'll keep an eye out. And you be careful yourself. There's a loose cannon in the decoy van who might try to come after us if he gets the chance to swipe a radio car."
"Check," said Kato, and they both signed off for the moment.
"I must say that's one advantage to doing this sort of thing in Monte Carlo," Simon piped up from the back. "Col. Latignant doesn't tolerate loose cannons."
"You don't think he was a ringer, do you, Simon?" Bruce asked.
"No, his sergeant knew him, and Meriweather knew the sergeant. He may resent immigrants; he may have half recognized me; he may want the diamonds; or he may just have a bad attitude regardless of circumstances. We just have to hope that if he does break away from his post, all the other loose cannons between him and us will at least slow him down enough to make him miss us."
"All we can do in the meantime," Britt added, "is keep our eyes open and stay flexible." And he turned the stereo on at a low volume to listen for traffic reports.
However, the drive to the airport was relatively uneventful. Britt heard about a genuine crash early enough to radio Kato to divert, which added time to the trip but caused them to bypass three phony detours that the traffic helicopters later reported to the police. In the same time, the decoy van reported five phony detours on its route, along with two genuine crashes and one gun battle between rival groups of thieves. It was something of a relief to get to the airport and deal with the folderol of security, with Simon resuming his role as their fast-talking front man.
In the end, they reached Customs at precisely 7:30. After checking in with the customs agents on duty and learning that van der Berg's plane was on schedule, they did their best to blend in with the paneling and watch the other travelers going through the usual rigamarole of customs inspections. Britt recognized some of the arrivals, mainly prominent citizens who'd been out of the country on vacation or on business. But shortly before van der Berg was due to arrive, Simon suddenly went over to one of the airport security guards and whispered something to him. The guard nodded, stepped into the customs office briefly, and then pulled a man out of the line.
"Russian agent," Simon murmured as he rejoined Britt and Bruce.
Britt nodded slightly and decided to save his questions for later.
It was another fifteen minutes before van der Berg and his security detail arrived at Customs with the shipment, which was indeed in three cases that van der Berg had sensibly chained to his wrists. One of the policemen had taken charge of van der Berg's other luggage; one of the regular customs agents began inspecting those bags while van der Berg unchained himself from the diamonds and handed the cases to the head of customs with visible relief.
Once the agents had the cases open to inspect the diamonds, Simon led Britt and Bruce forward. "Scusi, Signor van der Berg?" Simon began.
"Ja?" van der Berg returned.
"Carlo di Cesari, Meriweather Security." Simon presented his credentials and the paperwork for the shipment. "We come to pick up your shipment for DeLukens Diamond Company."
Van der Berg looked even more relieved and drew a deep breath. "Oh, ja, good, good. Thank you for being so prompt."
The inspections and paperwork took several minutes more, long enough that the sun had set by the time they'd finished, but finally the customs agents started closing up the cases and sealing them to prevent tampering. Britt waited until they'd sealed two of the cases and were closing the third. Then he faked a coughing fit, which drew the agents' attention just long enough for Simon to slip a piece of paper into the third case before the lid clicked shut. One of the airport security guards got Britt a cup of water, which he drank and then crumpled thoroughly enough to obscure his fingerprints before throwing it away. Once the last case was sealed and Simon had secured the last required signature and bidden van der Berg farewell, each member of the team took a case and headed back to the van, escorted by the security detail. Loading the cases and themselves into the van took practically no time at all, and soon they were back on the road.
"Well, there's two danger zones cleared," Simon said after Britt checked in with Kato. "Two more to go."
"Do you think that Russian agent you identified was the one who tried to kill you?" Bruce asked before Britt could.
"No, I don't, actually. He hardly ever leaves Moscow, and when he does, his job is to gather information. I don't know of any instances when he's killed someone—although if he did, I'd expect him to use polonium, not a bomb."
"Oh, lovely," Britt snarked. "What do you think he's doing here?"
He couldn't see Simon, but he imagined a shrug when Simon answered, "Your guess is as good as mine, if not better. He may be targeting defense installations, or he might be coming through this city in the hope of avoiding detection. In any case, we've spoiled his evening and stopped him from spoiling ours, which I suppose counts as our good deed for the day."
Britt and Bruce chuckled.
As the twilight deepened, however, the danger increased. The decoy van was delayed by a firefight that sent one policeman to the hospital, and one of the other vans narrowly avoided being rammed by a bulldozer for reasons Britt couldn't guess. ("Points for creativity?" Bruce suggested, half-jokingly.) For his part, Britt broke through three phony roadblocks, one of which was very crudely painted, in quick succession.
Then Kato, still scouting ahead, hailed him on the radio. "Turn north," he instructed. "Go one block and then continue the same direction you're going now."
"Why, what have you seen?" Britt asked even as he turned.
"Three men with a grenade launcher."
"Have fun."
"Grenade launcher," Bruce echoed. "Those sound like our bombers."
Britt nodded and turned again. "That might be the only weapon that would stand a chance against an armored van. But they're getting more than they'd bargained for in the Black Beauty."
Seconds later they heard a pair of explosions. Seconds after that, Kato radioed again. "I'm all right," he reported. "I had to use the rockets. They tried to fire at me, but the shot missed."
"Are they alive?" Britt asked.
"I think so, but I don't have time to check. I gave them a dose of Hornet Gas just in case."
"Good. The helicopters can alert Scanlon. You'd better get out of there."
"Check."
There was another ambush attempt, which Kato broke through, before Britt turned onto the street that led to DeLukens Diamond. He made it around the back of the building and parked, only for someone to start firing on the van from the alley. Britt radioed Kato, who quickly drove down the alley to scatter the snipers. After Britt switched the radio back to its usual frequency, Simon dashed from the van to the door with the cases while Britt and Bruce followed and gave covering fire. A security guard waved them into the building, and Britt pretended to catch himself on the doorframe—and slipped a small wad of paper into the catch plate of the lock, which would prevent the automatic lock from engaging. Once they were all in and the door was closed, they made a show of catching their breath, giving time for Kato to get back into the parking lot while the guard was distracted.
"You fellas okay?" the guard asked.
"Si, si," they answered, nodding and gasping and sighing. Bruce dramatically shoved his pistol (borrowed from Britt) into its holster—and Britt was reasonably sure the guard didn't catch the way Bruce flipped a hidden switch in his pocket in the same motion.
A guard whose name tag read Van Voort joined them a moment later. "Meriweather Security?"
"Si, signore," Simon replied. "We… we gotta you diamonds right here." He gestured with the cases.
"Great, thank you. Mr. van Zandt's waiting for you in the vault. This way."
Simon nodded, and the team followed van Voort. Britt ran over the blueprints of the building in his mind, ready to jump into action if it looked like van Voort was leading them the wrong way, but instead van Voort led them faithfully to the elevator and down to the sub-basement that held the vault. And van Zandt, whom Britt recognized from the company's publicity photos, was indeed waiting there, all smiles.
"Thank you, van Voort," he said as the team walked into the vault room. "That'll be all."
Van Voort stopped short, baffled. "But—Mr. deLukens said—"
"That will be all," van Zandt repeated firmly.
Van Voort hesitated a moment before subsiding with a murmur of "Yessir, Mr. van Zandt" and going back upstairs.
"Er, scusi, signore," said Simon, carrying the cases past van Zandt toward the open vault door. Britt and Bruce stayed close beside him, deliberately turning their backs on van Zandt. "I just put these on the table in the vault while I get you signature, okay?"
"That's far enough, Templar," van Zandt stated, all trace of cordiality gone from his voice.
As one, the team froze. "I wondered when you'd show your hand, van Zandt," Simon replied, dropping the act.
"Put the cases on the floor—slowly. Then turn around with your hands up."
Simon put the cases down slowly, and the three of them turned around to find van Zandt pointing a gun at them.
"Don't try to be a hero," van Zandt warned Simon. "You rush me, I might shoot one of your friends. You wouldn't want that."
"They are armed," Simon noted.
"But they haven't had time to reload. Oh, yes, I arranged for the firefight upstairs. Jack Hamill's not bright, but he is capable of doing some things correctly. I promised him a cut so long as I succeeded in getting away with the diamonds."
"You of all people should know how difficult it is to fence these stones."
"Oh, but I'm not going to fence them. I'm going to wait until after we collect the insurance and then 'recover' them a small parcel at a time. I might even seed them with some synthetic diamonds—Yolanda told me where to find Prof. Miller's notes, you know, after she was arrested. I wasn't there that night, so Jaap never suspected I had anything to do with her plans."
Simon shook his head. "You really think you're going to get away with this, don't you?"
Van Zandt smirked. "I know you're not going to get away from here. After all, I'm standing between you and the door."
"But you have overlooked one small detail."
"Which is?"
"The emergency stairs."
Van Zandt blinked… and Kato grabbed his gun arm, spun him around, and sent him to dreamland. Then, as Bruce switched off the recorder in his pocket, Kato dosed van Zandt with Hornet Gas.
Britt blew the air out of his cheeks. "Good work, Kato. Let's wrap things up."
Kato nodded and set down a knapsack with the supplies they needed for the final phase of the non-heist. Bruce rewound the tape while Kato tied van Zandt up; then Kato pinned a card reading TRAITOR to van Zandt's shirt, and Bruce pinned the tape to the card. Simon took the cases all the way into the vault, set them on the table, and left the paperwork beside them. Britt checked the time lock on the vault and discovered that it would automatically engage once the vault door latched, so Simon agreed that they should leave the door ajar. Then, once Bruce and Kato had finished with van Zandt, the ersatz security team stepped into the vault to change out of their Meriweather uniforms. Britt and Simon put on their Green Hornet outfits, but Bruce, being too tall to borrow Kato's spare livery, had to make do with a black sweatsuit and ski mask. They left the uniforms, credentials, and van keys neatly stacked on the table beside the cases. Finally, when everything was arranged, they hurried up the emergency stairs, past the guards Kato had knocked out, and out to the Black Beauty. As Kato sped away, running silent and dark, Britt pulled out his watch and signaled Frank.
Then he put his watch back in his pocket and threw one arm around Simon and the other around Bruce. "Fellas," he said with a grin, "thanks for giving me the best bachelor party I could ever have had."
Everyone laughed, and Britt picked up the phone to call Casey.
Meanwhile, Frank quickly switched off the buzzer on his glasses before it could become audible to anyone else. "All right, they've had long enough," he announced into the police radio. "Move in."
The cars he'd had standing by quickly tightened the cordon around the DeLukens Diamond building. In so doing, they caught the stragglers of Hamill's group, but Frank was relieved to realize that they'd missed the Green Hornet. He kept his relief hidden, however, as deLukens jumped out of the car. Frank followed him into the building at a run, officers hard on their heels.
DeLukens gasped as they found the first guard on the ground. "Is he—"
Frank knelt and checked for a pulse. "Just unconscious," he stated. "It could be Hornet Gas. If it is, he'll be all right in a few minutes."
DeLukens murmured something in Dutch and raced to the elevator, barely waiting for Frank to catch up before heading down to the vault room. His visible dismay grew as they discovered the unconscious van Zandt and the stolen uniforms, although he was somewhat relieved to find the cases in the vault.
"Still sealed," he muttered and pulled a pair of wire cutters out of his pocket to start opening the top case. "Just as they left Customs…." He cut the wires and unlocked the case. "But the diamonds, are they all—" He stopped short as he opened the case, then burst into gales of relieved, delighted laughter.
"What is it, Mr. deLukens?" Frank asked.
DeLukens was laughing too hard to speak, but he held up the piece of paper he'd found in the top of the case. On it were block letters that read PAY UP, DELUKENS! above the haloed stick figure that was the sign of the Saint.
.
* Meaning "Saint," "Hornet," and "Bat," respectively.