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Chapter 72

Men in long coats with stern faces waited on the platform. Off in the distance the Hummer soared toward the station, screaming and sending clouds of smoke around itself like an ominous aura. The ground was already shaking, people stepping back from the platform upon its calamitous arrival, but the men stood still. Before the train had even come to a full stop the men standing (Homer Van Meter, Pete Pierpont, and Red Hamilton of the Dillinger Gang) jumped aboard under the cover of smoke.

Some passengers were already standing, reaching and bending to retrieve their luggage from storage cabinets. People from various places, on different adventures with a wide array of motives would now have something in common- an experience unlike any they might ever have in their lifetime. With two men entering the same cabin- one in the front, the other in the back- there was little place for the passengers to go. When the gang stormed in, guns raised and yelling, some people squealed and others dipped under the cover of the seats.

"Everyone empty your wallets!"

"Now! Let's go!"

"Whatever you've got, get it now!"

It took the folks a moment to comprehend that their train was now hijacked and that they were being robbed. With more screaming encouragement passengers began to dig in their pockets or purses, terrified by the daunting men and their large weapons. A pile was made. People were directed to place their money on the floor in the center aisle. Already they had collected a decent pile of bills, abundant with 1's, but there were some bills of higher value. They were even collecting coins.

There was a good twenty people in the cabin, more or less in other cars on the train. As the men watched their pile grow, intimidating every single person to surrender whatever they had, they began to get anxious with excitement. The other men were holding up the other cars, and John was supposed to collect the highest amount from a safe. There was much controversy about this robbery but some of the men were now thinking it was entirely worthwhile.

John hopped aboard the train between cars, balancing himself on the makeshift platform. Clothed in his long overcoat and fedora he looked like a phantom, a dark shadow slipping into the smoke. He wrenched open a door and stumbled inside, ready for any kind of confrontation but finding none. John was directed to head to the safe located in the front of the train. He did not know the exact location but he wasn't worried; John could open any locked box he came across. The cabin he found himself in now was the dining car- the tables unoccupied, the cutlery quavering chaotically as John jogged down the aisle.

He pulled open another door and was bombarded with noise, the clatter of the wheels and whistles amplified. This was nothing but a utility station. John frowned and his face set sternly in place. He had been misguided twice, it taking longer than he imagined to simply find the safe. He started to feel suspicious. He didn't have to time to keep stumbling around. Each second they wasted became more dangerous.

He headed through the empty dining car again, keeping a careful eye out the windows and doors. Someone probably knew by now that the train was being robbed. The authorities might not yet be there, but any citizens attempting to be heroic would cause problems. Again the silverware shook under the weight of him passing through the car. He could hear shouting coming from the car beyond, knowing his men were inside, and John went forward.

They were startled by the door opening, Homer twisting instantly and pointing his gun in John's direction. Once the men were aware of who it was they looked at him strangely. This wasn't a place John wanted to be; he wasn't into literally robbing people's pockets. The only reason John would barge in on them was if there was a problem. For a moment each one of the guys exchanged a look, wondering who would intervene first.

Instead of speaking John threw his hands up in the air, communicating through a gesture. The men could decipher that John was stressed, frustrated. He looked lost. This was reason enough for Homer and Red to begin to get nervous, but there was no time to do anything other than what they had to.

Red, at the other end of the cabin, threw his hand over his shoulder in a gesture that said "there." Immediately John advanced forward again, pushing through the passengers. He moved so fast it was difficult to determine if anyone noticed that they were brushing shoulders with the country's number one Public Enemy.

Through the small window positioned on the door ahead John could see movement in the car beyond. He was headed toward the engineer's cabin and at one point he and the conductor made eye contact. He was a short, round man with frightened eyes. He hobbled to get out but John was faster, slamming the door inward and trapping the man in his station.

"Where's the safe?" he growled, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt. Terrified, the man began to dig in his pocket. John held him tighter, yelling louder. "I don't want your money! Tell me where the safe is!"

"B-ba-back. It's in the back. The-the last car."

This information enraged John but he had no time to dwell. He let go of the man, throwing him back into his seat and ran back the way he'd just come. He passed through cabins still full with people, shoving away men and women, crossing the dining car a third time and jogging on. His previous efforts had been a waste of time. He could have had the safe open by now. Hell, he could have gotten the money and gotten out of the train by now. Did Karpis genuinely think the safe was in the first car with the conductor, or had he planned on giving John the runaround?

The back of the train felt eerily abandoned. The lack of activity almost made John more nervous- they had been wasting time. It was the calm before the storm; the authorities could be hiding, leading John into an easy trap. He was on edge, his senses heavily attuned to everything when he slid his way into the car. He was ready, anticipating to be attacked, so it was only a mild surprise to see another figure already in the car. The person was hunched low on the floor and they turned around as they heard another person approach. It was Alvin Karpis, breaking into a safe hidden near the back wall- the safe that was meant for John.

The realization of everything set in the same second John felt his fury explode.

"Son of a bitch!" he spat. "Put the money down!"

Karpis was startled but not spooked. Perhaps he had been anticipating this moment all along. "This is just business, John," he said matter-of-factly. Then he added, in a less confident voice, "I have to look out for myself," as if that was a satisfactory explanation of his deceit and betrayal.

John had no time for that. He didn't care for what Karpis told himself to justify his actions- he had enough trouble doing that for himself. With a voice threatening in its harshness, John demanded again, "put it down!"

It appeared as though Karpis' hand shook as he placed the last bundle of bills into a sack wrapped tightly around his wrist. "There's only a few thousand," he said with chilling calmness. "You couldn't have made a profit splitting it between seven guys." Karpis managed to stand on his feet though his legs trembled. He was clearly intimidated by essentially robbing John, but clearly there was not enough fear to stop him.

A haze had fallen over John- he was thriving on adrenaline and the wrath that bubbled inside of him. Irrationally he reached for his gun and it was positioned and cocked toward Alvin Karpis before John could process any deliberation. The entire world was caving in on him. The walls of the train car seemed to become tighter and suffocating. The reputation and the profit of the gang rested in himself, and more importantly the lives of his men- his friends- their livelihood and their life, however worthless society thought them to be. The seconds ticked by and John felt closer to death- the threat of the authorities trapping him leading to his arrest, leading to his execution. Billie would be abandoned.

All of that had encouraged John's hand into raising his gun. "I'll fucking shoot, you know I will."

Karpis revealed a pistol as well and pointed it toward John. "Likewise."

It wasn't the first time John had had a gun pointed at his face, but for all the trouble it might have been the most traumatic time- or most stirring, at least. Again John seemed to go mad from Karpis' antics, frantic and furious that he was turning a gun on him as he had done the tactic first. "Put it down!" he screamed again. "You won't get away with this!"

The earth shook and for a second both men were distracted by the movement. John felt the sensation of falling, his balance literally shaken. Karpis seemed to be wavering too and they locked eyes through the quake. It was then that both men realized the train was moving.

The next emotions were sheer terror and panic.

Every man was for himself. The scene of their crime was in motion and the whole situation had been flipped upside down. The confrontation just seconds ago became a secondary concern. Now there was nothing to do but stay and be captured or flee. There came a great awkward and frantic shuffle and then a gun shot.

At first the sound was more terrifying than the actual hit, and John didn't know which of them had pulled the trigger until his legs flew out from under him and he crashed to the floor. His body stung. As he realized he had been shot there came the second stunning realization that Karpis had fired at him. Looking up John was able to see his lanky figure, gun trembling in his hand, and heard him utter, "it's just business."

Then John watched as he turned toward the open doorway and jumped off the train.