someone tampered with the breaks. you go in the water of the bridge, trying to get out of the car, and luckily, sucseed, but it's too [[late]].
you turn right, and notice that the cops are following you now. you silently hope for luck, a resque, anything, but the world works the way it is- just as expected. the gas tank is empty, and you have no where to go. you need to [[reconsider your options]].
the alley looks just as you expected, and smells a lot worse. there's a [[trashcan]], and your options are very few. it's risky, but for the sake of your hygine and salf respect you may prefer to [[stick against the wall]].
you hear sirens. [[run.]]\n
against your morals and for your better judgement, or future in this case, you decide to break into the car. you smash the window and unlock the door, tampering with the wires of the simple poorly-cared for viachle before you. the gas tank is not well and full either, but you assume it'll fit your needs until you get away from there cursed coppers. you reach a T junction, and your options stand before you- you could [[turn left]] or [[right]]
you delve into the trashcan, nearly throwing up from the smell. you've seen things before, and you've stood strong as your nostrils survived the stench of a 4 days old body, but this was too fucking much. you wait, remembering the rule you've heard somewhere- it takes 90 minutes for the police to search an area before they pass to another. you could always run into a patrolling one, but that's a risk that is always there. you counts the seconds down, listening to the noises around you. you [[wait]].
you hear the lock on the worn-out hancuffs break and smile weakly, waiting for your chance. the officer who was supposed to watch you until you get into the police car turns. quick, this is you chance- [[run.]]
there's an old dented car following you, and you seem to have no idea where you fucking are. it seems decent, whatever. [[go into car]]
there's an old dented car following you, and you seem to have no idea where you fucking are. it seems decent, whatever. [[go into car]]
fuck. there's a guy with a bike down the road, you guess you could drop him and [[steal the bike]]. or you could.. um. [[oh]].
"good man. mick here will explain everything to you- but for now, we gotta scoot. every uniform here knows your goddamn face, and I don't feel like spending the rest of my life wearing orange. makes my skin pale, ya see."\n"scoot where?"\n"the [[airport]]!" says beardie, grinning at the question itself.\n\n
the car stops in yet another alley, darker then the one before. you don't know where you are, but you hear water running. the thug that pointed a gun at you before, and is still, takes you out of the car and starts throwing punches at you, holding you in the air. as you beg for mercy, he searches you and finds the object he was looking for. with a nod from who is seemingly his boss, he knocks you out cold. you try to ressle, but it's too [[late]].
you realized what you should've as soon as you stepped into that car- around are undercover cops. cops. who now have a confession. [[Fuck.]]
you've never been in a private plane before, but it was neccesary duo to the security regulations on it- seeing that they were a bit less 'limiting'. you sink into the seat comfortably, your whole life ahead, and wonder of your new job. not too dangerous, you hope. your eyelids drop as you smile, falling into a deep, much-needed sleep.
the air escapes your lungs, as water surround you and oxygen becomes just another thing you need and don't have. your last thought is this-\n"I wonder what will my last thought be"
you open the black door to find two men in the back seat, both with the physique and the expression of hired thugs, both with faces just a tad bit too soft to be ones. the thug pulls and holds you in, closing the door. you hear a voice, and after a few moments of confusion you realise the one speaking is in the driver's seat. you were certain that if the thugs were hired, he was the one to hire them.\n\n [[confess]] [[don't confess]]
you hear the sirens, getting louder and louder right behind your back. you stop running, giving excuses to yourself about it looking more suspicious, but really, you can't. you move you stare down at the pavement and stick and earbud in your ear, hoping to seem normal, to be over looked, but the police car stops behind you. [[Fuck.]]\n
you top a sweaty-looking guy off his bicycle with a single push and start paddeling. your conscience eases as you notice he seems like he could definetly afford another. who the fuck wears a gem-patched belt to a bike [[ride]]?
the limo sails away, as you wonder of it's reasons. you need to think- this could be a relitively safe area to [[be in]], but your stomach is growling and the smell of trash is driving you to [[get out]] of there.
as soon as you open the door of the car, you gget violently pulled by a strong hand. the door is shut behind you and fear begins to cripple down your spine as yet cold metalic tip, presumably a gun, is held against the back of your neck. you run your options through your mind as a large bearded man asks you a question, with an accent you can't manage to recognise. \n"we know you have it and this can go both ways, son. I don't have time to sit here and chat- give me the drive. now."\n -"[[what.. chip? what the fuck do you want?]]"\n -"[[I've had more then enough of this bullshit today, I'll give you whatever you want if you leave me alone.]]"
you hear your feet thump on the ground rythmicaly as you try to concentrate both on your surroundings and on the options that stand before you. they don't know exactly where you are, but it won't take them long to find out. you could shove some guy off a bike and [[steal the bike]]- there were plenty of bikers passing by. you could [[keep running]], until you realize where the hell are you running to. or you could [[break into a parking car]], but that's always a last resort- not because you don't know how, there was very little you didn't know about cars, but you never did like stealing them. too recogniseable.
the cop that was supposed to be guarding you grabs your hand, seeing the pin and giving you a snarky smile, without a word. that's it. that's it- you get pushed into a seat that smells out of sweat and other various body fluids, and close your eyes, knowing that your freedom is never to be achieved again.
-"it's supposed to be on your body somewhere- jerome was supposed to slipp it on you if he'd ever be in a mess with those fuckin coppers." you recognise that name- your uncle rarely called that way, but the name brings it up. you slide your hand down your pockets as you reach what was poking you since you've woken up that day, and hand the small device to the hand stretched before you. you should've known, hell- uncle jerry was the only one you knew who could get in such [[trouble]].\n
"you know what chip, you fuckin' do. the one your momma gave you. y'know, before she left. I ain't gonna tell you no bullshit, but you and I both know what's going to happen if you refuse."\n\n\n\n\n-"[[over my dead fucking body.]]"
baffled at the strange sight, you decide to tap on the blackened window. there was no response, but the engine was clearly running, and the door wasn't locked- heck, you could just open it and [[go inside]]. on the other hand, you've had enough trouble for today, and the alley has another [[way out]].
you stare blankly as some unimportant officer reads you your rights and cuffs you. you start to run things in your memory, hoping something, maybe an old lesson from uncle's training could help you- yes. you remember. you reach to your back pocket, trying to get one out- you've always had a [[bobby pin]] with you, ever since your uncle told you how to break a lock with one. you find something else there too- a [[flat, thin piece of metal]]. a distant memory teaches you you could break a lock with that too, and you figure your uncle must've slipped that in your pocket sometime this morning, knowing you might get arrested.
the escape.
the cold steel is no longer held against you,and you attempt to get out of the car, assuming this nightmare-of-a-day is over- but the bearded man who's accent you now recognised as both.. brazzilian and russian? well, he had more to say.\n"your uncle was an asset to us, you know."\nyou turn to him and question his intentions.\n"he was. but if you don't mind, I don't exactly like to bullshit things- we have a free position at the moment, and we need someone to fill out your uncle's spot- and you'll do."\n -"[[listen, I'm very complimented about the offer, but it's too much risk, and-]]"\n-"[[what do I need to do?]]"
you hear them getting closer, and the smell of trash seems less horrible then before. they might not go into the alley, but the idea of jumping in a [[trashcan]] seems better now. or you could [[keep doing that shit]].
you finish counting, mentaly awarding yourself for not breaking out in tears. you peek out, more for a breath of relitively clean air then for a look. you decide there's nothing dangerous, or atleast nothing worth staying another second in there. you climb out and notice a black, long [[limausine]] blocking your way out.
you tamper with the wires, and it doesn't take long before the engine comes to life. you drive down the road, still nerveous. there's a [[bridge]] in front of you, and it leads to another city. you speed up, a bit calmer then usual.
"no need, sunnie, I understand your reasons. we did decide to leave you a reward for your co-operation, if you don't mind."\nyou must've seemed a bit shocked, as the bearded man winked your way. the dented car pulls aside, next to a shiny new car, which was, by closer inspection, unlocked. beardie nods fpr approval, and you step off the dented [[car]], facing against it.
you turn left, and notice that the cops are following you now. you silently hope for luck, a resque, anything, but the world works the way it is- just as expected. the gas tank is empty, and you have no where to go. you need to [[reconsider your options]].
you slide in to the unlocked car, but it seems a bit too good to be real. might as well, in your desperate situation. [[start the car]].
your breath and the effort is slowing you down as you try to navigate through the obstacles on the narrow pavement. you begin to hear the sirens, building up behind you yet again. not good. there's a [[car]] down the road, and it seems to be unlocked. weird.
while you were busy reconsidering your options, arranging your thoughts, looking at the posibilities and other things that were nessecary if you had any time to waste, the cops closed the gap and reached you. [[Fuck.]]
you beg for your life, and it seems your efforts are paying off, but not in the way you thought- the thugs seem to be more frusterated by it then anything, as the driver commands them to let you go, and they push you out of the fancy car violently. you are surprised for a moment, yes, but then you realize it- they were undercover cops. good thing you didn't confess. heh. [[way out]]
a copper with a flashlight goes into the alley. [[Fuck.]] WTF DID U THINK DUMBASS
one of the thugs pulls a knife, and holds it up with a bit more then a meaningfull stare. the voice in the driver's seat is heard again- this time softer. "we could help you, you know- this could go one way or the other." [[confess]] [[beg]]
Shaked Rozman
you keep pretend the sweat running down your neck is a result of stress, but you're well aware it's been a while. you hear the sirens getting closer, but they're less in number- they're splitting to search for you. [[a dark alley]] branches out from the side street you've been walking on, and you know damn well you wouldn't be able to run for much longer. on the other hand, it looks dark, and it smells rather bad, so you could also [[keep straight]].