Honour Among Thieves

 Peter shoved his hands into his jacket’s pockets, less out of a need to stay warm, and more to hide how badly they were shaking. If he allowed the others to see his fear, they would be on him like a pack of wolves having smelled fresh blood.

He had to put up a strong facade. If they thought that he was too tough to try to attack, or that he had backup, they wouldn’t harm him. But if they knew he had nobody waiting.. Peter shuddered to think of it. He didn’t want to go home to his cheap apartment with a broken arm and nose. He couldn’t afford the hospital bills.


The door to the warehouse creaked open, and Peter suppressed the urge to cough and fan away the smoke that billowed out. Instead, he smoothly entered the building and locked it behind himself.


Larry and Stevens were already there, perched atop a stack of cardboard boxes. John was sitting cross-legged on the floor, cigarette in his hand. He was probably the source of the smoke. The murmuring he had been hearing from outside had now stopped, and the three men were glaring at him


So, he was the last one to reach. That’s fine. Peter put on a straight face, belaying none of his fear. He strode towards the group, and sat down on one of the boxes, facing John. All the while, the others shot him deadly looks.


After a few moments of tense silence, Stevens decided to speak up. “I can’t believe you actually showed your face. Woulda thought that you’d chicken out after last Friday.”


John scoffed at the reminder of the incident, and took another drag of the cigarette. Dropping it on the dirty floor, he stood up and crushed it beneath his boot. With the look he was giving him and the intense satisfaction he was getting from thoroughly decimating the piece of paper, Peter felt like he was trying to send a message.


“We should just get the compensation from him,” John declared, slowly stalking forward. “If it wasn’t for his betrayal, we would’ve gotten far more money anyways.”


Larry sighed in longing. “I still remember that vault. It was so.. Shiny. All that gold..” He sighed once more, eyes glazing over. Stevens scooted away from him, a bit perturbed. But Larry’s eyes hardened once more, and he looked positively murderous. “You told the cops about the heist we were planning, didn’t you?”


At this statement, all eyes returned to him. Peter inhaled slowly to try to calm his thumping heart, and crossed his arms.


“That wasn’t me,” He stated, ignoring the cries of outrage from the three other men. He continued speaking, uncaring of their arguments. “The cops had arrested me while you guys were in the building. That’s why you couldn’t find me. I didn’t betray you.”


“Seriously?” John snarled, hackles raising. A boot shot forward, sending an empty box flying across the silent warehouse. The thump of its landing echoed. “What kinda getaway driver can’t, you know, get away?”

“The kinda getaway driver,” Peter growled, voice becoming unintentionally louder. “That had been betrayed! The cops knew exactly where I was parked.”


This paused the arguments for a moment. Everyone knew that Peter refused to tell anyone where he parked his car while waiting for the others to finish their heist. They’d been working together for years now, but they still had to call Peter to get their driver to take them away.


“I only told one person where I was hidden,” He said, more subdued. “I thought- I wrongly thought that they could be trusted. I mean- we’ve worked together for so long-” Peter cut himself off, before he said anything too sappy. He didn’t want to give away the very real feelings of betrayal and disappointment he felt.


There was a hush. It was obvious that they didn’t fully trust him, but his burst of emotion made them feel like he was telling the truth.


Larry was the one who finally spoke up. Glancing in distrust at his comrades, he asked the question on everyone’s minds. “Who was it, then? Who betrayed us?”


Before Peter could reply, another voice piped up. 


“It was me” John grinned maliciously from where he was standing across from the getaway driver, phone in hand. “I never liked you people anyways. Rot in hell, you guys.”


The other thieves cursed and rushed for the exit, but it was too late. Bright lights flooded the warehouse, shining in through the windows. A voice on a megaphone could be heard, echoing.


“This is the FBI! Surrender peacefully or we’ll be forced to take action!”

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