"White. You have a visitor."
The wall of the cell were a disgustingly boring off-white color, with a double bunk bed, and a toilet. The only distinct thing about the room were the chess pieces scattered all over the bottom bunk, and in the center of the floor, a small square, with 64 smaller squares scratched into the smooth concrete.
On the top bunk, someone sat up, and opened his eyes, glaring at the warden. They were large and blue, making him seem a lot younger than he was. His brown hair had grown out to his shoulders, unbrushed and messy. He jumped down from the top bunk, and landed in a graceful crouch on the ground below. The he stood, and waited for the warden to unlock the barred door to the cell.
He was eventually led to the visitor area, and the warden stopped to talk with another prison guard. The prisoner walked over and surveyed the lined up consoles skeptically. There he was. A red haired man was sitting behind one of the glass panes, tapping his fingers restlessly on the table. He approached it, and sat down. The red-haired man looked up, and picked up the little communication phones. The younger man picked up his end.
"Aya, thank god."
Aya looked at him, and he could tell he was struggling to keep his usually cool exterior, and to keep the pity out of his eyes. The younger man was fully aware of how bad he looked. He had a black eye, and bruises other places too. He was unkempt, and had been having trouble concentrating on anything. Even know his hands were shaking a little as he held the phone.
"Are you all right, Omi?"
"Y-yeah. But I can't stay here… you have to set something up. Really soon… these people are disgusting."
Aya nodded silently, then just looked at Omi for a while.
"Do you have an idea?"
Omi nodded.
"The guards here are damn lazy… they're even supposed to monitor these visits, and never do. The locks are nothing. Here… give me your kit when I finish explaining. There are only two locks we have to deal with, this one and that one there."
He pointed to the door that separated the main room from the visitor's room.
"Of course, the outside is heavily guarded, but we shouldn't make an obvious getaway. I need you to think of something, I never see the front entrance."
Aya nodded, then glanced around causally, pulling out a fountain pen from his pocket, and placing it in the tray that was cut into the desk under the glass partition. Omi took it and winked, smiling kind of weakly though it had an echo of his usual confidence. He stood.
"At exactly 5:38 pm I'll be outside of that door. Meet me, and I'll go along with your plan, whatever it is."
They exchanged a final look, and then Aya hung up the phone, stood, and walked out. Omi could feel him taking in every detail, noting the people. Omi hung up too, and a few seconds later his warden appeared. It was only 11:00 am when he got back to his room. He was a little nervous, but he had put up with much worse than this. He sat down on one side of his chessboard that he had scratched into the floor and just looked at the squares a little longingly. He hadn't played a good game in the two months he'd been here.
He pulled the pen from his pocket and unscrewed the back. The inside springs were specially designed with enough room for the four wires that were hidden inside. Lock-picking and stealth were what Omi was infamous for. He estimated 7 seconds on the first lock, and maybe 10 on the second.
He frowned and carefullty replaced the wires. This was a precarious plan, but he had pulled off much much worse. This was only a silly little state jail. Nothing that could stand up to him or Aya. Especially not working together. This caused him to smile a little, in the disarming way that pulled him out of so many situations. No one believed that such a cute young man could be capable of what he did. Ah well, their mistake. He leaned back against the bottom bunk and looked up at the ceiling again. Waiting.
*
They were running. Omi's bare feet were silent on the ground, though the rough pavement hurt as he ran. He threw a look over his shoulder back at the prison yard. The whole escape had been carried out based on immaculate, rather precarious timing. Aya was quite an expert at calculating situations and figuring out the technical aspects of things. While he also possessed complex strategy-planning skills, he usually left the scheming to his chess-prodigy partner Omi.
The idea he had settled on in the few hours he had had to derive an escape plan was direct and simple. He left to get wire cutters. There were only 5 armed guards on the fence, and they weren't stationary all the time. Every few minutes they would switch posts. It was a simple matter of timing it so that he could work without them noticing him. He had cut a decently sized semi-circle carefully into the fence, and left it looking untouched. Then he had parked a car near it, and walked away for another few hours, waiting. He had hidden guns and short throwing knives in case anything went wrong and they had to break out with violence. Either way this was the last time either of them would see the inside of a prison.
Once in a lifetime mistake. That's what Omi was thinking. his throughts running parellel to the red haired man as he skidded to a halt in front of the sleek black car that Aya owned. Tinted windows, automatic everything, black leather upholstery. He pulled open a back door, and slid into the backseat, catching his breath quietly as the engine revved. They had maybe an hour, at the most two, before Omi's disappearance got out. They would be gone by then, back into the network of shadows they lived in, safe in the darkness.
*
Officer Kudou sighed in frustration and took off his green-tinted sunglasses, dropping them on his desk, and unpropping his feet from the latter. He glared at the offending coworker from beneath the wide brim of a black cowboy hat. He wore it along with his black standard police uniform occasionally. Mostly when he was sick of the traditional hat all policemen wore. It didn't seem to compliment his style to the extent he desired…
"Oi, this better be important. I was in the middle of a pretty nice nap."
He thought vaguely that he should find somewhere else to nap during his afternoon break. It seemed he as always being interrupted here.
"Kudou, "White" escaped from prison a few hours ago."
Youji sat up straight in his chair and picked up his sunglasses, his expression changing from good-naturedly annoyed to serious.
"A few hours ago? Shit…"
He stood up, putting his sunglasses on, and taking his cowboy hat off. Then he walked around his desk to stand facing his visitor.
"If I had known sooner… did anyone catch any kind of lead as to where they'll head?"
The older officer shook his head.
Youji's eyes narrowed and he walked out into the hallway. He had been on this case for too long. A whole network of organized crime spanned the city, in a dark delicate secret web. He had been slowly, methodically trying to expose it to the light.
It had all started to fall into place with the capture of Randall White. Or that's what he had thought until he saw him. Randall had a 6 inch thick pile of coverage on him lying in any given newsroom. He was showy, treating the crimes as a game, reveling in tricks and misleading false evidence. He was exceedingly clever, though, something that always seemed off to Youji. Why would someone with intellect play such a dangerous game? Some how all the attention seemed a farce, not done just for the pleasure of it. A means to an end…
And then when he was finally caught, Youji had been there, along with maybe 9 other cops. Something about the whole situation seemed too picture-perfect. Too Hollywood-ending. And then there was the truth in "White"'s eyes. He had told Youji that he wasn't innocent. But he told him that if he were going to prosecute him, at least accuse him of his crimes, and not someone else's. After this confession the only thing thety would get out of him was the repeated statement that he was not Randall White.
Jewel thieves. Youji sighed and leaned against the wall on the outside of the building. He tried to smooth over his anger and frustration as he lit a cigarette and worked on plastering his usual lazy, easy going smile on his face.
He caught a glimpse of black heels, pausing on the sidewalk in front of him. Hm, nice legs.
"Manx."
He looked up, saw that he was right. He forced his thoughts away from the serious matter of work. Hey, why think about that when there are pretty women around?
Manx was wearing her usual slightly sadistic smile, glossed over with light red lipstick and perfectly managed red hair, without a strand out of place. Her hands were on her hips, and she was wearing her usual dark, over-exposing business dress suit. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, and it bounced up again, like a giant hairspray-caked spring.
"So I see you live up to your reputation once again, Kudou."
He smirked. She was referring to his claim that he could identify women by only seeing their legs.
"Of course. You should trust me on that by now. How about dinner tonight?"
She laughed, and brushed him off.
"You should have plenty to keep you busy tonight without making passes at me over dinner. I'm expecting you to crack the White case."
She turned and walked inside. Youji grimaced. So what if she was the Chief of Police here? They had known each other for something like 4 years, and she had never spared a shred of human decency for him. A real animal that one. He shook his head. Maybe he would go home early today. He needed time to think, to research perhaps.
A sudden resolute settled into him. He would find the truth if it took burying himself in their world, even if it took being lost in it. It was more than his duty now; he had become personally involved as well. He wanted to know. He turned around and walked back into the building, putting his cigarette in an ashtray before entering the double glass doors.
The wall of the cell were a disgustingly boring off-white color, with a double bunk bed, and a toilet. The only distinct thing about the room were the chess pieces scattered all over the bottom bunk, and in the center of the floor, a small square, with 64 smaller squares scratched into the smooth concrete.
On the top bunk, someone sat up, and opened his eyes, glaring at the warden. They were large and blue, making him seem a lot younger than he was. His brown hair had grown out to his shoulders, unbrushed and messy. He jumped down from the top bunk, and landed in a graceful crouch on the ground below. The he stood, and waited for the warden to unlock the barred door to the cell.
He was eventually led to the visitor area, and the warden stopped to talk with another prison guard. The prisoner walked over and surveyed the lined up consoles skeptically. There he was. A red haired man was sitting behind one of the glass panes, tapping his fingers restlessly on the table. He approached it, and sat down. The red-haired man looked up, and picked up the little communication phones. The younger man picked up his end.
"Aya, thank god."
Aya looked at him, and he could tell he was struggling to keep his usually cool exterior, and to keep the pity out of his eyes. The younger man was fully aware of how bad he looked. He had a black eye, and bruises other places too. He was unkempt, and had been having trouble concentrating on anything. Even know his hands were shaking a little as he held the phone.
"Are you all right, Omi?"
"Y-yeah. But I can't stay here… you have to set something up. Really soon… these people are disgusting."
Aya nodded silently, then just looked at Omi for a while.
"Do you have an idea?"
Omi nodded.
"The guards here are damn lazy… they're even supposed to monitor these visits, and never do. The locks are nothing. Here… give me your kit when I finish explaining. There are only two locks we have to deal with, this one and that one there."
He pointed to the door that separated the main room from the visitor's room.
"Of course, the outside is heavily guarded, but we shouldn't make an obvious getaway. I need you to think of something, I never see the front entrance."
Aya nodded, then glanced around causally, pulling out a fountain pen from his pocket, and placing it in the tray that was cut into the desk under the glass partition. Omi took it and winked, smiling kind of weakly though it had an echo of his usual confidence. He stood.
"At exactly 5:38 pm I'll be outside of that door. Meet me, and I'll go along with your plan, whatever it is."
They exchanged a final look, and then Aya hung up the phone, stood, and walked out. Omi could feel him taking in every detail, noting the people. Omi hung up too, and a few seconds later his warden appeared. It was only 11:00 am when he got back to his room. He was a little nervous, but he had put up with much worse than this. He sat down on one side of his chessboard that he had scratched into the floor and just looked at the squares a little longingly. He hadn't played a good game in the two months he'd been here.
He pulled the pen from his pocket and unscrewed the back. The inside springs were specially designed with enough room for the four wires that were hidden inside. Lock-picking and stealth were what Omi was infamous for. He estimated 7 seconds on the first lock, and maybe 10 on the second.
He frowned and carefullty replaced the wires. This was a precarious plan, but he had pulled off much much worse. This was only a silly little state jail. Nothing that could stand up to him or Aya. Especially not working together. This caused him to smile a little, in the disarming way that pulled him out of so many situations. No one believed that such a cute young man could be capable of what he did. Ah well, their mistake. He leaned back against the bottom bunk and looked up at the ceiling again. Waiting.
*
They were running. Omi's bare feet were silent on the ground, though the rough pavement hurt as he ran. He threw a look over his shoulder back at the prison yard. The whole escape had been carried out based on immaculate, rather precarious timing. Aya was quite an expert at calculating situations and figuring out the technical aspects of things. While he also possessed complex strategy-planning skills, he usually left the scheming to his chess-prodigy partner Omi.
The idea he had settled on in the few hours he had had to derive an escape plan was direct and simple. He left to get wire cutters. There were only 5 armed guards on the fence, and they weren't stationary all the time. Every few minutes they would switch posts. It was a simple matter of timing it so that he could work without them noticing him. He had cut a decently sized semi-circle carefully into the fence, and left it looking untouched. Then he had parked a car near it, and walked away for another few hours, waiting. He had hidden guns and short throwing knives in case anything went wrong and they had to break out with violence. Either way this was the last time either of them would see the inside of a prison.
Once in a lifetime mistake. That's what Omi was thinking. his throughts running parellel to the red haired man as he skidded to a halt in front of the sleek black car that Aya owned. Tinted windows, automatic everything, black leather upholstery. He pulled open a back door, and slid into the backseat, catching his breath quietly as the engine revved. They had maybe an hour, at the most two, before Omi's disappearance got out. They would be gone by then, back into the network of shadows they lived in, safe in the darkness.
*
Officer Kudou sighed in frustration and took off his green-tinted sunglasses, dropping them on his desk, and unpropping his feet from the latter. He glared at the offending coworker from beneath the wide brim of a black cowboy hat. He wore it along with his black standard police uniform occasionally. Mostly when he was sick of the traditional hat all policemen wore. It didn't seem to compliment his style to the extent he desired…
"Oi, this better be important. I was in the middle of a pretty nice nap."
He thought vaguely that he should find somewhere else to nap during his afternoon break. It seemed he as always being interrupted here.
"Kudou, "White" escaped from prison a few hours ago."
Youji sat up straight in his chair and picked up his sunglasses, his expression changing from good-naturedly annoyed to serious.
"A few hours ago? Shit…"
He stood up, putting his sunglasses on, and taking his cowboy hat off. Then he walked around his desk to stand facing his visitor.
"If I had known sooner… did anyone catch any kind of lead as to where they'll head?"
The older officer shook his head.
Youji's eyes narrowed and he walked out into the hallway. He had been on this case for too long. A whole network of organized crime spanned the city, in a dark delicate secret web. He had been slowly, methodically trying to expose it to the light.
It had all started to fall into place with the capture of Randall White. Or that's what he had thought until he saw him. Randall had a 6 inch thick pile of coverage on him lying in any given newsroom. He was showy, treating the crimes as a game, reveling in tricks and misleading false evidence. He was exceedingly clever, though, something that always seemed off to Youji. Why would someone with intellect play such a dangerous game? Some how all the attention seemed a farce, not done just for the pleasure of it. A means to an end…
And then when he was finally caught, Youji had been there, along with maybe 9 other cops. Something about the whole situation seemed too picture-perfect. Too Hollywood-ending. And then there was the truth in "White"'s eyes. He had told Youji that he wasn't innocent. But he told him that if he were going to prosecute him, at least accuse him of his crimes, and not someone else's. After this confession the only thing thety would get out of him was the repeated statement that he was not Randall White.
Jewel thieves. Youji sighed and leaned against the wall on the outside of the building. He tried to smooth over his anger and frustration as he lit a cigarette and worked on plastering his usual lazy, easy going smile on his face.
He caught a glimpse of black heels, pausing on the sidewalk in front of him. Hm, nice legs.
"Manx."
He looked up, saw that he was right. He forced his thoughts away from the serious matter of work. Hey, why think about that when there are pretty women around?
Manx was wearing her usual slightly sadistic smile, glossed over with light red lipstick and perfectly managed red hair, without a strand out of place. Her hands were on her hips, and she was wearing her usual dark, over-exposing business dress suit. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, and it bounced up again, like a giant hairspray-caked spring.
"So I see you live up to your reputation once again, Kudou."
He smirked. She was referring to his claim that he could identify women by only seeing their legs.
"Of course. You should trust me on that by now. How about dinner tonight?"
She laughed, and brushed him off.
"You should have plenty to keep you busy tonight without making passes at me over dinner. I'm expecting you to crack the White case."
She turned and walked inside. Youji grimaced. So what if she was the Chief of Police here? They had known each other for something like 4 years, and she had never spared a shred of human decency for him. A real animal that one. He shook his head. Maybe he would go home early today. He needed time to think, to research perhaps.
A sudden resolute settled into him. He would find the truth if it took burying himself in their world, even if it took being lost in it. It was more than his duty now; he had become personally involved as well. He wanted to know. He turned around and walked back into the building, putting his cigarette in an ashtray before entering the double glass doors.
