Father Roman

Chapter 2

"Okay then," he turned to unpack his belongings. "Big Lou."

"The name's Roman O'Connor..."

"I clearly said no names." Big Lou interrupted.

"How'd you know that's my real name?"

"Is Roman O'Connor your real name?"

"Yes," Roman, perplexed, looked back at Big Lou as if he should have already known the answer. "I'm an open book. I got nothing to hide."

Big Lou glared at him, not at all content with that response.

"It's not about hiding..." Mid sentence, Big Lou decided to drop the subject, not wanting to alarm Roman by explaining the dangers of sharing his personal details with him. "You know what? Never mind."

After the day they'd had, Big Lou figured he'd let his new partner get some rest this evening then they could start with the serious business tomorrow morning. He kept his eyes on Roman as he got settled in his sleeping bag just a few meters away. Between them, the flames still blazed, it almost looked artistic.

"Earlier, did you say something about a church?" It only had been hours since Roman had slipped inside his sleeping bag but couldn't catch an inkling of sleep. Between thinking about Max and the job, his brain was working on overdrive. "Not sure I heard you quite right 'cause it sounded like you said we're hitting a church and I'm pretty sure it was the adrenaline speaking considering I was suspended at the edge of a 600ft bridge."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said."

Big Lou's words echoed in Roman's mind for several seconds afterward. "Since when do churches have that kind of cash just lying around?" his brow furrowed. "Not gonna lie to you man, but this whole ordeal feels a little bit sketchy. A part of me is telling me I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning with both my kidneys in a shipping cooler off to Monaco to save some rich asshole's heir."

Big Lou couldn't help his laugh. "Jesus Christ, paranoid much?"

"Hey, I'm just saying."

"Our target is St. Francis Xavier Cathedral." Big Lou explained. "I've been keeping a close eye on things for a while and I found out every Wednesday morning at 9 o'clock on the dot, an armored truck leaves the building accompanied by at least three escorts to a private airstrip."

"I'm guessing the armored truck will be carrying cash," Roman grinned. "A shit tone of it."

Big Lou snapped his fingers. "Bingo."

"So we're hitting the truck when it leaves for the airstrip?" Roman's question was muffled with a yawn. "I suppose this is the right time for me to mention I failed my driver's test twice so...anything involving high skilled driving might not work in our favor."

"You're missing out the point," Big Lou informed him. "Our focus is the church and only the church. That's where all the gold is."

"What's the plan then?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Big Lou grinned.

He felt a mixture of satisfaction and glee wash over him. Finally, he was going to be rich.

"How are your acting skills, Roman?"

"Hmm, in kindergarten whenever they needed an inanimate object let's say... a tree? I was your guy."

"And your information on Catholic orthodox?"

"None existent."

"All right let's not panic," Big Lou was muttering, mostly to himself. Then aloud, "When I'm done with you, you'll be perfect. Or close to a perfect priest as you can be."