A/N: Two chapters in one day? Five minutes? Actually, these two chapters were irginally ONE chapter, but... ah...nevermind.
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LAS VEGAS
AMERICA
TWO MONTHS AFTER THE FIRST CHAPTER
"STUPID FOOL GET THE HELL OUTTA MY WAY!" Max shrieked angrily, swerving between two other angrily honking cars and across a busy intersection. "Man, are you crazy?" He sped into a parking lot in front of a diner and slammed the brakes on, somehow managing to stay between the white lines. There weren't many cars parked at that time of night in front of any diner, but then, this was Las Vegas. One of the cars that WAS parked there wasn't ten feet from Max, and the car's owner was leaning up against his trunk, arms crossed. Max jumped out of his car and approached the other man with a huge smile, greeting him loudly.
"Alaaaan! Wussup, man?" He bounced over until they were facing each other. Alan, an old school acquaintence of Max's, was wearing a slightly formal suit-n-tie combo. Max Mizuhara, however, was in a black shirt, black pants, chains galore, and the typical black trench coat.
"You're late," Alan said flatly.
"Huh?" Max asked sweetly.
"You're late!" Alan repeated, eye twitching.
"I'm late?" Max asked, pointing to himself.
"Yeah, you're late!"
"YOU'RE late, man, I been waitin' in da back of the diner for ovah an hour, man!"
"I was in the diner," Alan responded flatly.
"Man, I told you da back of the diner, you thought I was gonna do this shit up front man, what're you crazy, tryin' ta get busted, you crazy--" Max started, looking around and gesturing wildly, widening his big blue eyes ever so slightly behind his dark sunglasses. The small golden earring in his right ear shone for a second against the diner's lights.
"I was IN the diner, you weren't in the diner!"
"I said in the BACK of da di--duh-itd- it dun'n even matter, man, ahm late, you late, it don't matter man, c'mon, let's do this, what, is that a gun, man put that gun away, I ain't gonna get killed over dis shit, stop you, man, c'mon, let's do this, c'mon, c'mon!" Max tapped the trunk of Alan's car quickly, glancing over his shoulder every now and then. Alan, far too used to Max's Vegas-talk, pushed the blond slightly and then opened his trunk.
"Don't be late again," he grumbled.
"I ain't gonna be late!" Max insisted. "So c'mon, what'd we got?" He peered into the trunk.
It appeared to be just a normal box, about twice the size of Max's head (hair not included). Inside the box were three smaller black boxes, two smaller than the first, which was wired into several green sticks attached to the bottom of the biggest box. Simply said: a bomb.
"Oooh," Max cried, "now that's tight, that's beautiful. That's nice!"
Alan began looking over his shoulder, not wanting to get arrested.
"What's that?" Max asked, motioning to the bomb.
"That's C4." Alan explained.
"THAT C4?"
"That's C4." Alan assured, and continued glancing across the parking lot and diner.
"Oh, shit," Max muttered. A bead of sweat ran down his face.
"What's the problem?" Alan asked, giving Max the benefit of his full attention. Max plastered his usual broad smile back on quickly.
"Ain't no problem, man!" He cried, perhaps a little too joyfully. "I been lookin everywhere fer this shit, when, where da hell'd you find some C4?" He gave Alan a quick hug, and then returned to staring at the boxes. "You don't know how you make me feel, man," he finished happily. "The Iraquis can't even get this shit, man!"
While Alan's and Max's backs were turned, two people began exiting a car in front of the diner.
"Where'd you get this from?" Max asked.
"Oh, it's a hot ticket," Alan responded easily.
"You don't know how happy you made me man," Max beamed. Across the street the two figures stepped into the light slightly and revealed themselves to be cops--in full uniform, guns drawn.
"You got what I want, I'll go get you what you want, let's go get dat money, man," Max was saying, and turned from Alan and his bomb to go to his car, clapping his hands brightly, when the two policemen raised their weapons and came a little closer.
"Step away from the car," one ordered, and Max froze, lifting his arms swiftly.
"Heey, officers!" He greeted innocently.
"Put your hands above your heads." the cop interrupted. Alan, his back still to the cops, lifted his left arm and drew something out of his belt.
"What's wrong, officers?" Max asked.
"Just do it, now!"
Alan pulled out his gun and cocked it as he closed the trunk of his car.
"Ain't no problem here, why y'all messin wit us for?" Max's question was cut off suddenly as Alan grabbed him and jerked him in front of him, slamming the point of his gun against Max's head. Both cops raised their weapons too, nervously.
"Alright, take it easy, buddy!" the second cop said loudly. "You don't wanna do that!"
"Oh yes I do!" Alan shot back. Max twitched his head slightly as if to look at Alan, arms still up.
"Oh no he don't, officers," the blond said quickly, addressing the cops. "He's just playin, officers."
"No, I ain't playin!" Alan snarled, also addressing the cops.
"Yes he is, officers!"
"No I'm not!"
"Yes he is, officers!"
"I'm not playin!" Alan screamed in Max's ears. Max lifted an arm out as if to stop the cops from firing, even though they were all the way across the parking lot. Sure, it was a small parking lot, but really...
"Yes he IS, officers!" Max insisted.
"Drop the gun!" both cops roared.
"This is just my cousin, we just talkin!" Max implored, waving an arm slightly in Alan's general direction. "C'mon get back in da car and just leave."
"Can't do that, buddy, alright," the first cop replied, still tense.
"I'm gonna blow his head all over the frickin parking lot, asshole, get back in the car and buy some doughnuts!" Alan yelled.
"See what ya did? Ya made him mad," Max said, this time using both hands, palms out, to try and wave the cops down. "Lemmee just talk to im, alright? Alright?" With that note, Max spun around and slammed his fist into the side of Alan's head, effectively throwing the bigger to the ground.
"HEY!" Cop Number Two shouted, "Don't move! Hey!"
Max scrambled back to a standing position, arms raised as if in surrender.
"Alright," he said, "alright, everythin cool now, now he down--" he motioned to Alan--"da gun down... now get back your car and jus leave." He flashed them another friendly smile.
"Put your hands on your head!"
"Officer, everythin cool, officer!"
"Do it! NOW!"
Max made a small noise and several weird motions with his hands. The cops glanced at each other, obviously not understanding; Max did it again, but it was too late. From his spot on the ground, Alan shot both cops, grounding them.
Max grounded slightly and took off at a run to his car, rolling over the top and over to the other side. Alan got into his car and pulled out quickly, crashing into the cops' car. Max pulled out his own gun and shot at Alan, but missed both times. Alan pulled out of the parking lot.
"Didn' I tell you to get in da car?" He asked the cops as he squat-ran past them. Standing up quickly he took another shot at Alan, and this time hit his rear left tire. It sparked and smoked, but Alan kept going, straight out into traffic. He swerved in an intersection, other cars honking and swerving into each other to get out of his way.
Alan hit another two cars before he was on the road properly. Max shot out of the parking lot and over other car hoods into the middle of the street, shooting hard at Alan.
Alan glanced in his rearview. "Stop shooting!" he shouted. "No, I've got C4 in the trunk!"
But Max kept shooting. Threw the spent gun down and pulled out another, to keep shooting, advancing slightly.Seeing the perfect shot, he took it; Alan, for his part, threw his car door open and fell out of it when Max shattered his back window. The car rolled a ways away and when Max took his shot, it exploded. The entire car burst into flame and flew several meters down the road before bouncing and sliding into another oncoming car, and eventually stopping, only to explode again.
"YEAH!" Max shouted, and, beaming, did a little victory dance right there in the street, waving his gun, cars in pieces all around, hurt pedestrians and all, before jogging over to where Alan was laying on his back.
"Woohoo!" He aimed his gun at his old "friend" and said, "Hey, Alan, guess what -- I forgot to tell you--I'm LVPD." He used one hand to pull out his Las Vegas Police Department badge while the other continued to hold Alan at gun point. "You under arrest."
Alan lifted his head slightly to look at him, then let it drop back to the pavement.
Panting, he went quietly.