He rose early every morning

Enricho rose early every morning to rob the tourist buses. 

He set his alarm for 5.45, it was still dark outside, even in the height of summer. He’d shower, dress, grab a slice of toast and a swig of coffee, hop on his motorbike and speed round to pick up Pavlo, then they’d head to the hills where the tourist buses wend their way, always a different target, a different location, different route. 

By the time the police arrived at work, reports of another robbery would have come in. Enricho and Pavlo would already be back home, in bed, sleeping off the night before, interrupted dreams allowed to recommence. 

Tourists had money, that was all, there was no ill intent, money was short, none of the locals had cash, tourists were always flush. Enricho had merely observed a business opportunity.

They were armed, but just for show, neither of them were violent men, they just wanted money. 

They worked hard. They didn’t just step out of their homes and point their guns at the first vehicle that passed by. Enricho visited the tourist companies, found the schedules and routes of every bus and coach tour, and carefully planned every attack, when, where, and how to approach. 

He worked hard, rose early, earned his crust.  

The tourists didn’t mind in the main, he was their Robin Hood moment, their brush with notoriety. Some filmed him robbing them, most took selfies with him. 

Wolf man, he was known as, for that was the mask he wore. Pavlo was the Bear. In general, tourists preferred to be robbed by wolf man, so it was usually Pavlo’s job to keep order. Without Pavlo there it would have been chaos, as the tourists queued enthusiastically to be robbed by the famous wolf man they’d seen on the news. 

Sales of coach tour tickets had gone through the roof since Wolf Man and the Bear had started their spate of hold-ups.  The first robbery had been reported on the local news, after which the whole thing had gone viral. Victims proudly shared their hold-up photos on social media, many of the tourists came purely in the hope of being robbed. At the end of the day, the mountains were just mountains, they didn’t have anything unique to offer. But highway robbery? So eighteenth century, so exciting. 

The police would never have caught them, it was a big country, and they randomised their robberies to the millionth decimal point. 

It was a rogue tourist who stopped them in the end. There for the mountains, oblivious to the Wolfman robberies, he was American and armed, and when he saw the robbers he pulled out his gun and fired. No nonsense. 

Enricho died on the spot, Pavlo was wounded. The police soon found him. 

The tourist pleaded self-defence. He was released without charge, he was a tourist after all, and the country needed tourists. 

The coach tour trade dwindled, until, that is, copy cat robbers appeared on the scene, another Bear and Wolfman, a pair of clowns, even the prime minister and opposition leader – well everyone knew they were robbers.  

It was bound to happen, because a wolfman never really dies.