“I mean did you drive and park somewhere?”
“No. I took the bus.”
“You mean you took a bus with a gun to rob a bank?”
“Well. Obviously, you can go home on the bus now. Let’s talk about how you’re going to get out of here. Do you want a helicopter?”
“No. I’m afraid of flying.”
“So, what then? Limo? Motorcycle? What?”
Bog didn’t answer for several seconds. Finally, he said, “How about a bicycle?”
Shirley wasn’t sure she heard correctly. “So, you want to peddle your way out of here?”
“No, no. A motorized bike. You know, one of those electric bikes.”
“Don’t you think our patrol cars can catch you?” Shirley asked.
“I know a short cut,” Bog laughed.
“Okay, what about the hostages? Do you plan on taking them on your bike?”
“Okay, you got me there. Make it a bus and not a bike.”
“Okay, you got it,” Shirley agreed.
Ten minutes later, a city bus driven by a police officer pulled up on the sidewalk, stopping short of the main entrance to the bank. “Here’s your bus, Bog. Pizzas are on the way, Bog. We gave you what you requested. Now, why don’t you let some of the hostages go as a gesture of good faith?”
“I was going to but the hostages I picked wanted to stay for pizza.”
Dick motioned for Shirley to cover the microphone, so she did. “Is he kidding?” Dick asked.
“I can’t tell.”
Twenty minutes later Dick ran over to the command post where Shirley was working out of and told her the pizzas had arrived. “Give we ten minutes before you tell the suspect so I can plant the microphone,” Dick told Shirley.
Ten minutes later, Shirley called Bog. “Your pizzas are here. How do you want them delivered?”
“No cops. Just let the pizza guy deliver the pizza. If he has to make two trips that’s okay.”
“Okay. We’re going to let him park right in front.”
Dick informed the pizza delivery guy who then drove up to the bank and parked directly in front of the main entrance. He got out of his car and proceed to take out two large, insulated boxes of pizza and a large plastic bag with soda and garlic knots. He had told Dick he could make it in just one trip.
Fifteen minutes later, the pizza driver walked out and drove off in the car. Dick went inside the command post. “Shirley, I thought the pizza guy was a black dude.”
“He was. You talked to him. You should know.”
“I do know. Check out this video.” Dick handed Shirley his cellphone.
“Why are you showing me porn?” Shirley asked.
“Oh, sorry. Wrong video.” Dick took back his cellphone and scrolled to a new video. “Here. Take a look.”
Shirley took the cellphone and watched a short video of the pizza guy walking to his car carrying two large, insulated boxes and an empty, large plastic bag. He was wearing a face mask and a baseball cap pulled down which made it hard to see his face.
“I don’t know, Dick. I can’t tell.”
“Look at his shoes. The pizza guy wore red tennis shoe which matched his uniform. This guy is wearing white tennis shoes.”
“Shit,” Shirley yelled as she jumped up. “No, no, no.” Shirley ran out of the command post and sprinted straight for the bank.
Dick grabbed the handset and keyed the microphone. “Hold your fire. Hold fire,” he announced.
Shirley ran into the bank. All the hostages were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, eating pizza. “Where’s the bank robber?” she yelled. Everyone pointed toward the front door. “Then where’s the pizza guy?” she yelled. Everyone pointed behind the counter. Shirley walked over and looked behind the counter. There on the floor was a man in just his underwear, hog tied with zip ties. His mouth had duct tape on it.
Dick rushed inside the bank followed by a swat squad. He walked over to Shirley who was crying. She buried her face into Dick’s chest. “I thought I was doing a good job, but I actually helped him escape.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll catch him. At least no one got hurt. I wonder if there’s any pizza left?”
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