I DON’T FRIGGIN’ believe this!” Vanderwaal almost tipped over his chair. “They did it again!”

     “Did what?” Newman asked.

     “Remember Denver?” Vanderwaal was holding a report that had just come in.

     “You mean like ‘Remember the Alamo?’” Newman quipped.

     “Well,” Vanderwaal said, “change Denver to San Francisco and $37 million to $29 million and you could pretty much leave the rest of the story intact.”

     “You gotta be kiddin’ me!” Newman shook his head in disbelief. “I thought they were gonna beef up security when they dropped fed money off after Denver.”

     “Oh, they tried.” Vanderwaal found the paragraph he was looking for. “Says here that they put the truck in the middle of a National Guard convoy armed to the teeth.”

     “Not enough, huh?” Newman critiqued.

     “About the only thing they demonstrated,” Vanderwaal said, looking up, “is that National Guard guys drop like flies inside and out of tanks about as good as security guards do inside and out of armored cars.”

     “Same MO?” Newman asked.

     “Same everything,” Vanderwaal confirmed. 

       “Same motorcycles, 

           same trailers, 

             same people in black tights and hoods. 

               Even the same speaker. 

     "We can’t just stop delivering money to banks. They’ve got us over a barrel! And, for what it’s worth, they didn’t go the second mile and rob this bank either.”

     “That is kinda strange,” Newman said more to himself than to anyone else. “I mean, when you think about it.”

     “I almost hate to see them waste the manpower investigating this thing.” Vanderwaal pined. “We pretty much know what they’re gonna find.”