Armored Redemption:
Salvation from sin through Jesus’ sacrifice.
Volume 1
The Plan
By
William Tasch
Kyle Compton sat in the cab of the big armored truck as the diesel engine rumbled idly below him; the noise was the only noise he’d heard for the last ten hours and he was ready to be done working today. He was trying his best to be patient while waiting to drive his truck through the gate of the Extreme Armored Transport, everyone called it EAT for short, the armored truck companies’ vault where he worked. It was one of those very hot days in May in the Inland Empire, a part of California which consisted of Riverside and San Bernardino counties that didn’t get any beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean. It was one of those days in which the weather was hot one day, cold the next and possibly warm on the next. May in southern California was always like that, hot, cold, warm, hot, cold, and warm. Today it was hot.
Kyle ran his hands through his sweaty hair and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He reached down and grabbed a plastic cup filled with Sprite, the ice and coolness of the drink long gone in the sweltering confines of the cab. He had picked up the soda at one of the many gas stations along the route he drove. Most of the gas stations they picked up and dropped off money gave them free sodas. It was a nice benefit for an armored truck driver, especially on a hot day like today.
He squirmed and adjusted the 9mm pistol that was strapped to his side. He wasn’t used to wearing a gun yet. He’d only been working here for a few weeks and had just received his license to carry a weapon. He’d also just started driving on his new route this week. His supervisor told him this would be his permanent route until he either became a Messenger, the person who carried the money, or a Guard. The promotion could wait, he wasn’t sure he wanted to jump out of the truck with a bag full of cash or be responsible to guard that individual anyway.
Kyle’s real dream was to become a Cop. The only problem was that he had just turned twenty years old, and he was not the required twenty-one years of age. The police department had also told him that he needed more life experience before applying. Apparently high school and community college classes didn’t cut it. What was life experience anyway? He’d resigned himself to take the test once he turned twenty-one.
The gate was still not open and although the air conditioner was on high in the big cab, the sun beat through the window creating an almost sauna effect and putting out more heat than the air conditioner could possibly ever cool down.
The knock on the window from the rear of the cabin startled Kyle. It was Johnny. Johnny was the guard in the truck. He guarded the Messenger and basically ran everything that went on during their route to include giving Kyle directions on where to go and when to stop. Kyle leaned his head toward the gun port that separated the front cab of the truck from the back where all the money was stored. It was very difficult to hear the people in the back of the truck with the diesel engine rumbling, so most drivers opened the gun port for better hearing. It was against policy; however no one had ever followed that policy that he saw since he’d been there.
“What’s up?” Kyle yelled through the gun port.
“Did you radio them and let them know there are three trucks waiting to get in?”
“Yes, they already said someone has to reset the gate. The motor got stuck or something.” Johnny nodded his head. You’d think for a place that stored, transferred and dealt with multi-millions of dollars, that they could at least get a decent gate. At least one that didn’t have to be reset multiple times everyday Kyle thought.
Kyle looked around the cab of the truck while they waited to see how dirty it was. Nothing really, just his plastic cups from the gas station stops, but they were in a stack in the drink holder spots. It looked pretty clean he thought. No trash like he’d seen in other truck cabs.
Being the driver was a lonely job. You didn’t really get to talk to the guys in the back too much, you couldn’t listen to music, the windows didn’t roll down so there wasn’t any fresh air, oh and of course the big one, no cell phones were allowed in the truck. As bad as that seemed, it was a job. It may be a temporary job until he finally reached the tender age of twenty-one, but it was a job nonetheless. Maybe it could offer some of the much needed life experience along the way.
Another truck was pulling in behind the line of armored transport trucks now blocking any traffic from going around on either side of the road when a man finally came out to reset the gate. There would be a mad dash for these vehicles to pick a spot to pull into the vault once the gate opened. Kyle already had his eyes on a spot where he could pull in forward and not have to back in the armored beast which was a difficult at best.
The gate was only half open when the first truck almost scraped the slow moving gate trying to make the mad dash to the vault itself. Kyle wiped the sweat from his brow again and drove the truck slowly in, coming within inches of the guard that was holding a shotgun at the ready in case anyone tried to rush into the vault.
William Tasch (1962-present) was raised in a small town in Wisconsin and was the youngest of five children. After graduating high school and working for a while, he joined the army and his world travels began. He also married his wife Deena and raised a family of three kids while traveling around the world. He finally settled down in Southern California where he works in law enforcement and enjoys writing in his spare time. He enjoys writing Christian fiction with everything a good book should have, suspense, love, action, twists, humor and a positive message.
Stop by William Tasch's Amazon Author Page,see all of his titles and connect with him on Twitter:http://www.amazon.com/William-Tasch/e/B007XTR0SG/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1440021750&sr=8-2
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