TAKERS;
Ghost (T.I): Tim Shepard
Gordon (Idris Elba): Dallas Winston
Jessie (Chris Brown): Ponyboy Curtis
Jake (Michael Ealy): Sodapop Curtis
John (Paul Walker): Two-Bit Mathews |
A.J. (Hayden Christensen): Steve Randle |
Rachel (Zoe Saldana): Sandy
COPS;
Jack (Matt Dillon): Darrel Curtis
Eddie (Jay Hernandez): Curly Shepard |
OTHER (NO POV);
Max (Russian): Bob Sheldon
Russian 2: Paul Holden
Naomi (Gordon's Sister): Johnny Cade
Scott (Money Launderer): Buck Merril
Paulie (C4 Dealer): Randy Adderson
Darry flipped through a paperback book, looking vulnerable and weathered. His eyes were soft and he was looking at the book but not reading it. Actually, he was flipping through the pages so fast that Curly doubted he was even skimming it.
Curly snuck a peek at the booklet, reading the title. "Tourist Attractions in Tulsa, Oklahoma," is what it said in bold, black letters. Looking back onto the road, Shepard processed this in his mind a little, searching for any conclusion to draw, but there weren't any.
He stayed silent for a little bit before something came into my mind. "What that book for? Are you traveling around the city?" He snuck a glance at the much larger Darrel with a smile, but he wasn't looking at Curly nor smiling, so the younger boy's face fell and he concentrated solemnly on the road again.
"Nah," Darry replied somberly. "Are we en route to Riverview yet? We've made about forty turns." He was quick to change the subject, and Curly found that a little suspicious but didn't say anything.
Shepard's heart jumped a little and he pressed harder on the gas. "Sorry, I…uh…got distracted." He had been trying awfully hard to get less sidetracked lately, whether it be on a call or at the grocery store. It surely wasn't working out.
In his peripheral vision, Curly watched as Darrel slipped on a pair of black shades and let out a dog-tired sigh.
"Are you okay?" Curly asked him, and it just slipped out. He almost wanted to take it back, but Darry was his partner and best friend and he sure had to know what was up with him, even if he was going to yell for getting into his business, lie about the answer, or just not answer at all. "You seem to be a little worn-out lately. Are you up for this?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, and that was his most frequent answer.
Curly couldn't help it but to roll his eyes at that. "Darrel, you always say that. And you seem to be quite the opposite, man. You don't seem to be in the best of moods lately."
He glanced at his partner, raising and eyebrow, but you could barely tell through the jet black (and awfully stylish – Curly was slightly jealous) sunglasses. "You think I'm being bitchy to you?"
"Uh…did I say that?" Curly said it with assurance, but he still had to think about it before officially assuring himself that no, he did not say that to him. Curly knew he would be in an awful bundle of trouble if I did.
"You meant it."
"Did I?"
"I think you did."
Curly looked at him, worried, and he was looking out the window. Black curls from Curly's head sprung down into his eyes, but he paid no attention to it. He just pissed Darry off more. Wanting to kick himself, Curly thought up a subtle apology and spoke it to Darrel ruefully. "Hey, Curtis, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean it if I made you angry."
Darry chuckled inwardly. Since Curly didn't see the smile on his face, he thought Darry was crying and nearly jumped out of his skin. Darrel Curtis does NOT cry. He just doesn't. Ever since his parents died, Darry had been sober from tears. Shepard didn't really know how he did it – Shepard himself had been a bawl baby ever since he could remember – and Curly guessed he didn't even want to find out. It was probably a long, hardened story. A story that was likely to, well, make Curly cry. But of course, Darry wasn't crying. He was laughing.
"Curly," Darrel got the attention of the blue-eyed boy, "I'm just messing with you, kid."
Shepard was relieved. "Oh."
They arrived at the hotel, and Shepard heart was beating kind of fast. Officers Shepard and Curtis had been on these Haitian's trails for a very long time, and now they had them cornered.
And if either of them got away, that would be the worst thing in the world.
Meanwhile, the Takers were prepping for the biggest heist in over a year. Money to bathe in, five-star hotels to stay in every night, a juicy steak for dinner every evening. It sure beats the house they lived in now: no hot water, a mattress stained with blood and god-knows-what, and Raman noodles and Kraft dinners as their meal options.
Their last heist field terribly.
They were at the climax of the robbery; they had passed the security and the next step was to get the money in their pockets. But Tim, the leader of the Takers, made a wrong turn and ran right into the sight of the cops.
Shepard had told the rest of the Takers to take off and he'd face the fuzz on their own. The rest of the boys took off through the back door, since they knew they were surrounded, and the sound of the gunshots behind in Tim's direction only made them run faster. If Tim died, he died what he was doing best.
But Tim didn't die. He got throw in jail for two years. And the Takers, their pockets empty, were forced to live off of the little they had. And "little" was an understatement. The Takers had no choice. They couldn't wait any longer for Tim. They needed money. Now.
"We all set?" Dallas Winston's rigid voice, sprinkled with that New York accent, was aiming for a whisper but the hallow, under-construction concrete room made it echo. Dallas must have already seen the other boy come out of the elevator.
Two-Bit, who didn't even notice the boy coming, checked his watch. They had less than an hour. "All signs point to it." Two-Bit heard footsteps and spun around, and was a slight bit scared at the first sight of the stranger, until he realized who it actually was.
"I heard there was a clogged toilet down here," the disguised Ponyboy cracked. Pony looked kind of funny, with his red hair all sticking up under his hat, and his sleeves hanging over his fingers because they were too big. If the Pony didn't look so damn cute, Two-Bit would have hugged the kid rather than hit down the lid of his black cap and roll his eyes.
Dallas smiled. As little that smirk was, it still was there. "Good work, Pone," he said, though his voice didn't hint any pride. "Where's your brother?"
Dallas's question was answered as Soda walked out of the elevator, clad in a business suit. He had a briefcase which he gripped nervously before seeing the gang and determining that the coast was all clear and tossing the leather case aside. Soda fumbled with his purple tie, tugging at it, trying to get it off.
Pony couldn't help it but to laugh at this. Soda had always hated dressing up. Pony sure wasn't fit for the 'business man' disguise, and figured that he didn't look half bad in the janitor's uniform he had on now. Sure, he felt bad that he had to tie up that poor janitor and lock him in the closet, but he actually liked the uniform. Not that he'd ever end up being a janitor, but he still liked the jacket. He'd keep it if Dallas wouldn't force him to throw it away just in case the cops came to their house with a warrant. "Just in case" were Dally's favorite three words.
Tossing the tie away and unbuttoning the black jacket of the business suit, Soda took one look at his kid brother and all emotions went away. The seriousness of the bank heist they were about to commit, gone. The tension in the air because of Tim's absence, vanished. And the next thing, Soda knew he was by his brother, rolling Pony's sleeves up past his elbows so they didn't bother him anymore. Pony's green eyes sparkled happily at Soda.
"So, what's the status, D?" Soda asked. "We all ready for this?"
"I don't know," Dallas said. He wasn't digging the new name, but he thought that if he paid no attention to it that Soda wouldn't repeat it. "How does it look, Two? We all set?"
Two-Bit gave Dallas a look, one that said, 'you already asked me that' but, just like he should, he repeated himself from what he said before. "All signs point to it."