Author's note: This is my first fan fiction in this fandom as well as my first here on . For now I'll just post a prologue for the story I'm working on and see if anyone's even remotely interested. After that, I'll see how it goes. I'd really appreciate all kinds of feedback and criticism. (Also, if anyone's interested in proof-reading/being my Beta, I'd super happy.)
Prologue
Jesse's cries let the car's windows tremble. Tears streaming down his face, he couldn't decide whether to sob or laugh, he ended up doing everything at the same time. He raced down the highway, eager to get away from the compound that had been his prison for the last 187 days.
After a couple of miles he calmed down a bit and was fighting with himself. He sure as hell didn't want to get caught by the police but he also really desperately needed some goddamned money. The faint police sirens he had heard before had disappeared.
With a sharp turn he left the highway and drove off into the desert.
To his surprise he had found the place quite easily. In the light of the car's headlights he rolled the barrel of money towards the back of the car. He was struggling to get it into the trunk due to the constant pain in his body and his underfed muscles. Swearing he finally managed to haul it up.
As quickly as possible he jumped back into the car and drove back toward the highway.
374 days later
London's skyline was lit up by the warm September sun. The Thames glistened nearly as brightly as the glass tower buildings. Cars and black cabs were rushing up and down the embankment.
The English capital had always been a centre of commerce. Millions of goods had come onto the island via London's ports over hundreds and hundreds of years turning simple merchants into rich men.
Between ships and stacked containers vans and lorries were rushing back and forth transporting all kinds of goods. Cranes were unloading big transport ships and men in forklifts were emptying containers.
In big black letters he words Madrigal Elektromotoren were written on a white container. In front of it stood a burly man in a leather jacket his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
A black van stopped and two similarly dressed men emerged from it. One of them handed an envelope to the guards. He quickly cast a glance inside, the amount of pound notes seemed to satisfy him as he put it safely into the inside pocket of his jacket. He gave the two other guys a quick nod and disappeared between the rows of containers.
The two men took several buckets out of the container and put them into the van. They shut the container doors and left just as if nothing had ever happened.