Well it's been a while but I did it once again! Chapter 29, is here and ready for your reading pleasure. This is also probably one of the longest chapters I've done so far. Originally I was going to have this chapter broken into two parts, but I said to myself "Screw it! I'm gonna jam it all into one chapter." I'd also like to thank Metal Harbringer and Afro Spirit for their feedback including many others. So read and review and enjoy! :D
David was half dressed, snoring in his bed. He was in a deep sleep, until the cell phone vibrated and started ringing.
"Oh God," David grumbled as he slowly and grabbed his phone. His mouth was dry as he checked the phone. The number was listed under the name Quentin. "Hey Quentin, what's up?"
"Get over here right now!" Quentin yelled. He had the phone on speakerphone as he paced back and forth sniffling. He was wearing a green suit, with matching pants and, a silver watch. His eyes were bloodshot red, and sweat was rolling down his forehead.
David flinched from Quentin's yelling as he glared at the time on the clock. It was reading 7:15am. "Quentin…it's early in the morning. Besides, I thought you didn't open for another few hours." He yawned.
"I don't give a shit if it's early in the morning; get your ass here right now!" Quentin yelled.
"Look, man I barely got any sleep and…" Before he could finish, he heard the phone hang up quickly. "Fuck," David grumbled as he shook his head and stripping his clothes off to shower. As he washed up, he began thinking about how Quentin was acting on the phone. What the hell does he want with me at this time of the morning? Whatever he wanted, better be damn worth it to disturb me from my sleep.
In a short while, David was finished and stepped out. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off and went through his drawer; grabbing a pair of boxers, black jeans and a silk short sleeve black shirt. He then grabbed his wallet and his boots as he turned on the TV to listen in on the morning news.
"This is Wesley Ignot, Weasel News. Terror on the high seas is what many people called it as the cruise ship; 'S.S. Conqueistor' was destroyed by what we were told a possible terrorist act."
The camera showed a woman who was coughing and still covered in a blanket. "This is just horrible! I just wanted to have a nice time, not running for my fucking life on a sinking ship! Umm, is it ok if I say 'fucking'?"
"Yeah its cool, we can edit it out later," the cameraman said unworried.
"Good. To the man who ruined out night, fuck you!"
The camera then jumped to Wesley as they showed him talking to hooker.
"So, when are you available?"
"Hey, you're on asshole!" The cameraman yelled.
Immediately, Wesley pushed her out of the way and, straightened his tie. "So far everyone is accounted for except for two individuals; Leo Patton, the ships cook, and Pablo Ruiz the captain of the cruise ship. After search teams looked around for any other survivors, we can only predict that these two are most likely dead. This is Wesley Ignot, at Fleetwood Docks. Weasel News."
David turned off the TV, scoffing at what did, caused a 'potential terrorist attack'. It was a job, nothing more, nothing less. Only people that died were Pablo's men, the cook, and Pablo, who was too busy crying and pleading for God as he drowned.
Grabbing his keys, David left his place, locking it behind him, and headed outside, to signal a cab. It was cloudy and drizzling but, David ignored it, and saw a cab actually stop for him. The moment he opened the door and got in the back, he was surprised to see a female cab driver.
The cab driver was a dark skinned Dominican with brown hair that was tied into a ponytail, and hazel eyes. As she applied lip gloss, she looked at David with the rear view mirror. "Where to cutie?"
"Brownstone Auto Dealership," David said, getting comfortable in his seat and rested his head. This cab is a lot better than the last one I went to…even got a female cabbie. Kind of cute, he said to himself as he glanced and saw her punching in the words to a bulky GPS system and started driving.
The cabbie glanced at David still looking at the GPS and at her and caught him. "What? Never saw a female cabbie before?"
"To be honest, not really," David chuckled.
"You think having a female cab driver is funny?" The cabbie protested.
"I didn't say that," David said defensively. "Although, I gotta admit, it's nice to see a cute woman, rather than some scruffy, bald, guy who smells like he bathed in a tub of shit."
The cabbie laughed. "You got me there. Before I even started this job, I went in a cab that had this ugly ass man. Kept eying me up, the back of the cab didn't even smell that great, and the window barely opened. Hell, he even had some porno magazines where the centerfold was all covered up with some sticky stuff, that I didn't even want to know."
Oh God, don't remind me, David said trying hard to get that memory out of his head when he took a cab to see his mother a second time. "That's gotta suck. Hey, you think you can turn on the radio? Maybe to the funk station."
"Well only cause you called me cute," The Dominican woman cooed as she started messing around with radio controls, and found the station G-Funk109.
The station started playing 'You Dropped the Bomb on Me', by The Gap Band, as David rested his head against the window and sighed as he closed his eyes a bit. He felt himself drifting back to what his mom was telling him back when he saw her.
"You aren't like…mad at me are you?"
"Disappointed is more like it. But no, I'm not mad at you…just remember what I told you and, don't get yourself killed."
"I can't stress this enough. Please be careful."
His eyes opened quickly as he felt the cab make a sudden halt, followed by the cab driver's yelling.
"Hey stupid! I got the fucking light here, not you! Yeah, whatever, pussy," The cabby yelled, making a turn almost at the destination.
David shook his head at how the cabbie was handling things, and closed his eyes again. Mom…I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I mean shit, it's not like I wanted to get into this life, but like you told me; for every action I make there's a consequence. I wonder if those same choices I'm making now are going to cost me in the long run. Well I'm making the choice to not get killed out here…and that's a promise.
"Hey, we're here." The cabbie said turning down the radio.
David slowly woke up and fumbled with the door, only to hear the doors lock followed by the metallic click of a gun. His eyes quickly moved as he was now staring at the barrel of a Colt Python.
"Aren't you forgetting to pay me handsome?" The cabbie asked.
"I called you cute though and had some small talk…isn't that good enough?" David sheepishly smiled.
"Flattery will get you anything…but not a free ride. Now pay up papi. I'd hate to ruin such a cute face."
"Alright, alright," David said giving in as he glanced at the meter and saw his total. He paid her fourteen dollars and tipped her with a five, to which she smiled and pulled the gun away from him, while unlocking the door.
"Now you have yourself a nice day."
David nodded. "I'll try to." He got out and walked over to the dealership office. He noticed the receptionist getting a drink by the water cooler. "Hey, what's up?"
Before she could even answer, the office doors kicked opened and Quentin stepped out pissed as ever.
"YOU, MY OFFICE. NOW!" Quentin shouted. He then looked at the receptionist, and yelled at her as well. "GET YA ASS BACK TO WORK!"
The receptionist looked at Quentin turn around head back to his office and slammed the door. "Who shit in his corn flakes?"
"Beats me," David said, wondering what was up with the hostility as well as he walked to the office and opened the door.
Inside the office was Quentin pacing back and forth, upset and uneasy. Papers were all over the place, except on his desk where there was a small stack next to a computer. On top of the computer monitor was a small ashtray with a single cigarette, still lit.
Quentin's face was sweating, as if he had seen a ghost. "Sit down," he instructed.
David stared at him. "You call me at what time in the morning, and yell at me when I arrive? I don't feel like it," David said seriously.
"I said, sit down," Quentin insisted. As David sat down, Quentin walked over and opened a Burger Shot breakfast sandwich and took a bite. He made face and dumped it in the wastebasket. "Remember a long while I gave you something on a device containing a list?"
"Your Blackberry?" David said raising an eyebrow. He then looked at Quentin's attire and stifled a chuckle. "Anyone tell you, ya look like a leprechaun?"
"Hand it over smartass." While David handed Quentin the device, Quentin in return, handed David a small notepad and continued to talk. "It's the same list of several owners who haven't made any kind of payments at all or were late on their payments." Quentin pulled out a gold plated lighter from inside his coat and grabbed his cigarette. "You were supposed to be working on this for a while now, and you're long overdue for it."
"First off, I sold some cars for you. I thought Id be satisfied with that."
"Well, guess what, I'm not. And right now I got people who want to buy these cars and have the money for it, but I have little to no cars. And it's making me look bad right now, giving away cars to people who don't have anything to show for it." Quentin lit his cigarette and took a small drag.
"Well then maybe selling cars isn't your thing then. But I expect to be paid well for this."
"Well I can do that. How about five hundred a car you bring back in?" Quentin suggested.
"Make it a thousand per car, including my Sentinel." David said raising the stakes up a notch. "I know the repair guys have it in the garage, because I had someone bring it in a while back. I do this for you, you make sure my men have the car repaired with a full tank of gas…I prefer premium thank you very much." David grinned, and stood up.
"Fine…a thousand dollars per car, and the Sentinel all fixed up…for free. The tow truck is outside by my car, the red 2001 Admiral. Now get going." Quentin said taking another drag on his cigarette. "Sorry about earlier…just stressed out about this."
"Save it…just make sure, the money is ready and the car is fixed up." David said peacefully.
"You know the tow truck is a two man job. You're going to need someone else to help you out." Quentin said as he handed David the keys and, leaned down, picking up the papers on the floor.
Somebody else to help me out huh? Let's see who's up and about, David thought as he left the office. He went through his phone to see who would be helpful to him. Lets see…Randy is probably still asleep…Tommy…nope. Lilly is going through enough as it is, so forget that. Maybe I can ask Johnny for some help…yeah right! Come on David, think goddamnit…wait, he then found someone that would be perfect to help him out.
Alan Cuneo.
"Perfect," David said aloud and dialed the number.
Alan was sitting down on a bench at a Rusty Brown's Ring Donut Shop, looking at his number. He was guest number eight. On top of that only a few people were inside waiting patiently, while the clerk was the only one behind the counter, moving as slow as molasses.
"Uhh…number twenty?" The clerk said as he looked around holding a small bag. A lady walked over quietly and showed her receipt, to which the clerk handed the bag to her.
Alan sat by getting impatient. Hurry the fuck up man, Alan thought as his phone rung. He answered the phone, as he watched a teenager with his girlfriend grab their order and leave. "Yeah?"
"Alan it's me," David said unlocking the door to the tow truck. "How would you like to reclaim a couple of cars with me?"
"Shit…we get to kill anybody?" Alan said out loud, making a mother cover her child's ears and give a scornful look to him as she left.
"Maybe," David thought as he got inside. "But that's if they shoot at us. We can rough 'em up a bit though if they get to rowdy. What do ya say to that?"
Alan thought about it for a few seconds and answered, "Shit, I was gonna fuck this one girl I met at your brother's club the other night. Tiffany…something. Ah, well she can wait. I'm down!" Alan said laughing. "Meet me over at the donut shop, over by the strip mall on Whitfield Lane." He hung up and sat down waiting as the clerk stepped up with the next number order.
"Uh…umm…number twenty-four?" The clerk asked as there were only two people in the store.
"For fucks sake man," Alan muttered.
Back at the dealership, David started the tow truck. The engine sputtered, as David sighed and started the car again. "Come on…start!" he yelled, as stomped on the brake, while turning on the ignition. The engine started working properly, granting David his wish as he shifted the truck in reverse and, backed out of the parking lot. Once he backed out of the parking lot, he shifted gears again, and started driving.
The interior of the tow truck was alright. The seats were brown leather, and there was a small air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. Even a small GPS computer was attached on the dashboard. Only light on the dashboard that was blinking on and off was the 'check engine' light. The radio was on Beats 98.9 as the instrumental to 'Say What You Say' by Eminem and Dr. Dre started playing.
Pressing the buttons on the GPS, David saw where was Whitfield Lane was and listened to the radio while the GPS told him where to turn.
"In hundred yards, turn left, then immediately right." The GPS said in a female voice.
Following the directions, David did so as he shifted gears with one hand, while steering the truck with the other hand. "I can't wait to be in my ol' car again. Shit it feels like it has been too long." David smiled, thinking how much fun it was going to be in his car when he was finished. He had thoughts of taking it out on a joyride around the neighborhood, or even mess with the cops to see how improved it was. He laughed at all the possibilities he can do, and nearly ran into a pedestrian.
Alan tapped his foot at a steady pace while, staring hard at the clerk. It was twenty minutes, and he didn't even get his order at all. He watched four people come in and leave with their food except for him, and now there was just him and, four more people. He then glanced at his order number and, at the clerk as he saw him walk up with a drink and a small bag. This better be it, Alan thought as he started tapping his foot faster.
"Guest number twenty-nine?" The clerk asked as he looked around.
"Oh, that fucking does it!" Alan shouted, losing his patience. He quickly stood up and, walked towards the clerk pissed off. "Where the hell is my order? Where is it?" Alan seethed.
The clerk started at him surprised and answered, "What's your order number?"
"My order number? Are you serious!" Alan yelled even more. "I've been sitting on that hard plastic bench for almost half an hour now! I mean fuck, how hard is it to get a coffee and two honey buns? Seriously, how fucking hard is that?"
The clerk stared at Alan as if he didn't give a damn at all. "Well you gotta wait till I get the others done."
Alan took a step back, shaking his head in astonishment. "Oh, wow…so you mean I gotta wait longer till I'm served? So if I go fuck ya sister up her ass and, post a video of it on MeTube, I still gotta wait for my damn food?"
"Look, you just gotta wait a few minutes alright?" The clerk said raising his tone up a decibel. He calmed down a few seconds later and turned to face one of the other customers. "Can I help you miss?"
"I swear to God, you take her order, you're gonna fuckin' wish you took that job at Cluckin' Bell!" Alan warned him. "Don't fuck with me kid! Just take care of my order and everything will be alright."
The clerk stared at Alan dead in his face for a moment as everybody else stood quiet. "You want your coffee so damn bad?" The clerk then took an empty coffee cup and tossed it at Alan. "Get it yourself asshole!"
The cup bounced off Alan's chest and fell on the floor. Alan's eyes went down looking at the cup, and straight back at the clerk. "This motherfucking punk," Alan muttered underneath his breath. He then turned at the other customers and smiled gently. "Alright, everyone leave, right now."
One of the customers complained. "Hey I didn't get my jelly donut!"
Alan went into his pocket and handed her a dollar. "Here, go get a sandwich. Everybody else, come on, let's go! Go for a walk, come on, move it."
The customers looked bewildered, as they started leaving. Once they all started walking and leaving, Alan walked over and locked the door, still smiling at the clerk.
"You gonna drive away my business?" The clerk shouted. "The fuck is your problem?"
Alan ignored him for a moment while he went to the windows and, lowered the lowered each of the blinds till the only light that was showing was the inside of the store. He then went into the inside pocket of his tracksuit and pulled out a Glock 23. He then pointed it at the clerk and simply said, "I should be asking you that question."
The clerk body froze in fear as Alan walked up to him slowly. "Holy shit!"
"Do I look like an asshole to you kid? Be straight with me. Do I really look like one?"
The clerk shook his head no quickly.
"Then why are you treating me one?" Alan asked as he waited for the clerk to answer. Loosing more patience, he pulled the trigger and shot at the floor, causing the kid to jump as well as yell. "Why are you treating me like one!"
"Look, man, I'm sorry alright?" The clerk said regretfully, feeling his hands tremble like leaves. "I'll get your order right now, just don't shoot me!"
"Actually I want something else," He felt his cell phone in his pants pocket vibrate and pulled it out, answering while keeping the pistol aimed at the clerk. "What?"
"I'm outside man," David said honking the horn to let him know he was at the parking lot to the strip mall.
"Alright, I should be out in a minute. Wait for me," Alan hung up and went back to the matter at hand. "Now I want you to get a pastry box, and fill it up with seven chocolate crullers, six of those cannelloni, two honey buns, and a couple of those donut holes." The clerk stared at him stunned, causing Alan to shoot at the floor to motivate him. "Today would be nice!" he yelled.
"Ok, ok!" The clerk rushed and started filling the box up.
David flinched, hearing the gunshot and, stared at the shop wondering what was going on, even though he couldn't see due the blinds being closed.
"There you go…see how easy that is to get my order?" Alan said walking over and grabbing the box. He then got close to his face and stared down at the clerk. "The next time you see this face, show some respect. Got it?"
His lips were trembling as he said the words slowly, "I'm s-s-sorry dude…for real." The clerk then felt his knees shake, like they were ready to give way and fall off.
Alan said nothing as stared at him with a shrug and a smile…and pulled the trigger. Twice.
Two .40 caliber bullets escaped from the barrel of the gun and went into the knees of the clerk, shattering cartilage and bone. The clerk eyes widened followed by a scream, as he fell down on the tile floor hard. The screaming from the clerk continued as blood poured freely from the wounds, onto the kid's jeans, and on the floor.
"You fucking bastard! You shot me!" The clerk cried.
"It happens," Alan shrugged, not caring for what the kid had to say as he pocketed the Glock and, went to the small fridge. He grabbed several cans of E-Cola, and unlocked the door. He then saw David run up and open the door.
"What the hell is going on?" David asked as he heard the clerk sobbing and cussing.
"Had a disagreement," Alan said leaving the shop and headed to the tow truck. "You know what they say; the customer is always right."
David laughed. "Yeah I guess so." He walked to the driver's side of the truck and opened the door. As soon as he got inside, Alan did as well, placing the pastry box on top of the dashboard near the GPS, and handed David a soda. "Thanks," David thanked him as he started the car.
"No problem, I figured it might be a long day for us so, I picked up some stuff for us." Alan explained as he set the soda's down on the floor, except for one and opened it. After two swigs, he glanced at David who was now pulling the truck out of the parking lot in reverse. "So how are we doing this?"
"Simple, the guy wants us to go through this list, and 'acquire' a couple of cars for him." David said as he was now in the middle of the street and shifted the gear to drive. "We also have to make sure the cars are intact. He wants cars, not burned out remains of them."
"And if they cross us, we kill them. Right?" Alan said with a hint of glee, as he pulled out his Glock and showed it to David.
As he rolled the down the window, David answered. "To be honest, we just beat the shit out of them to cripple them. We don't kill unless we really have to. And if we really have to, I'd rather we shoot them away from the car." David explained some more as he finished his soda and tossed the can out the window. "A car isn't worth shit if its all shot up."
"Alright, how much am I getting?" Randy said taking a sip on his soda.
"You'll get half of what we make." David replied. He grabbed the small notebook as he looked at the first car they were going to grab. "Let's see…a blue 1998 Esperanto. Owner's name is Jacob Everet. Nineteen years old, works at a Well Stacked Pizza Co. store around the Red Light District. Says here he's behind six payments. I know where that is."
"Guess that's our first stop," Alan said as he opened the pastry box, and grabbed a honey bun.
The trip to the pizza store was a short one as David knew the shortcuts to get there. He had the music turned off and ignored the GPS reminding him to go on the highlighted route. It bugged the hell out of him so much, he wanted to chuck it out of the window, but instead leaned forward a bit and turn it off.
"Thanks." Alan said shaking his head.
"Don't mention it." David answered, making a turn, entering the Red Light District. He didn't bother stopping at the red light as he nearly ran into several cars. He knew, once they stopped at a light in this area, the hookers would be offering their services, while the bums would be asking him for change, and he wasn't in the mood to hear either one.
Once they finally made it, they saw that the car was parked right where it was, and looking perfectly fine, and matched the plate numbers. Only change there was to the car was that there was gold plated rims. Not wasting another minute, David entered the parking lot and parked the truck right in front of it.
"Wait here man," David said, leaving the motor running on and exiting out of the truck. He jogged inside the store and saw that it was a slow morning. He looked around and saw some bum huddled in the corner, eating a slice. He walked over to the counter and whistled for someone to show up.
A black female cashier walked up casually, while applying lipstick and saw her customer. She smiled politely and smiled, showing a full row of gold teeth. "How can I help you today?"
"Hi, I'm looking for Jacob Everet. Can I speak with him please?" David said putting on his best manners.
"Oh, sure." The cashier replied as she turned her neck to the side and yelled. "Jacob! Get over here! Someone wants to see you!"
"Thanks," David said, faking a smile while, shaking his head slowly at the clerk yelling out for Jacob obnoxiously. He then saw Jacob walk away from the kitchen, wiping the sweat off his forehead and flung it on the floor.
Jacob was an obese white guy standing at 5'7, and looked like he was in need of a tan. From the way he smelled and looked, a shower, a decent haircut, and properly tucking in his uniform, would've been helpful as well. He had on glasses with large lenses that made him look like a pedophile. His forehead was covered in red bumps from the result of acne scaring, and was breathing heavy.
"Jacob Everet?" David asked staring at the man.
"Yeah what do you want?" Jacob said in a high nasal voice. He opened the door as he left the counter and was within several feet from David.
The body odor from Jacob was strong enough to wake the dead as David coughed. "You're six months behind on your payments for your car, so I'm going to ask you to hand over the keys to your car." David explained, keeping things professional.
The fat guy couldn't believe what he was told. "Wait, what? I'm ahead of my payments with Quentin!"
"Well, according to him, you aren't, so if you just give me the keys, I can be on my way." David insisted as he took a step forward, while doing his best not to breathe in the smell.
Jacob panicked as he took a step back. "Look, can't we just work this out? I'll pay him tomorrow, I swear on my mother's life!"
David wasn't buying it at all. "No. Now either you hand over the keys, or I have my friend attach the car to the back of the tow truck, and that's going to be a pain." He then smiled, bluffing Jacob. "Might end up fucking up the front of ya car, you know?"
"I won't let you take my car! I won't!" Jacob screeched, as he waddled towards the doors. His breathing got heavier as he turned around and looked at David struggling not to laugh at how he was moving towards the car. He gritted his teeth in frustration, as he turned around opening the doors, only to see a mysterious figure pull out a gun and point it right at him. His eyes widened as he stared at the gun and at the person wielding it.
"Not so fast little piggy," Alan smirked as he thumbed the safety off his gun. "You know the rules; you don't pay what you owe, and your car goes bye bye."
Jacob stared at him. "I bet that gun isn't even real," Jacob said skeptically.
Alan scoffed, as he pointed the gun up in the air and, fired off a single round, making Jacob scream and nearly shit on himself. "I tend to think otherwise." He smiled.
"But if you take my car, how am I going to get home? I live on the other side of the damn city!" Jacob whined.
"Not our problem," David interjected as he walked up behind Jacob, kicking him squarely in the behind, and watched him fall. Jacob stumbled, and fell to the ground, while both of them were shaking their heads at this guy. Jacob slowly got up, adjusting his glasses and saw both of them pointing guns at him.
"You got two choices big chops; you can hand over the keys, and you go back to your meaningless job unhurt." David said, hassling Jacob an ultimatum.
"Or we put you on a weight-loss plan and, see how much fat pumps out of you, when we put a bullet in one of your man-tits." Alan sneered as he aimed the gun straight at Jacob's chest.
David stared at Alan who winked at him, letting him know that it was a bluff. He nodded and looked down at his victim. "Your call fat boy," he said staring into Jacob's blue eyes.
Jacob weighed the two options in his mind, and sighed. He went into his pants pocket and tossed David the keys. "Alright…you win. Take it."
Snatching the keys while lowering down his gun, David was pleased. "There you go. See how easy that was?"
"Yeah whatever…now I gotta figure a way to get home now." Jacob said close to tears as he got up and started heading back inside the store.
"Try walking, you can use the exercise." Alan commented.
"And a shower," David commented as well causing Alan to laugh. "You can drive the Esperanto?"
"Yeah I can do that," Alan assured.
"Good, you drive the car, and I'll drive the truck, and we can hook up the next car onto the truck." David planned, handing Alan the keys.
"You ever hooked a car up to a tow truck before man?" Alan questioned.
"Once or twice when I used to work at Sunshine Autos…hopefully I remember." David wondered. "Just follow me till we get to the next car on the list," David mentioned as he got inside the tow truck and started her up.
"Hopefully, that fat kid put some gas in the car," Alan muttered as he opened the car with the keys and got inside. "Shit, for a smelly, fat guy, he kept the car looking nice and smelling fresh…don't make any damn sense," he said to himself out loud, starting the car and followed the tow truck.
David put a checkmark on the Jacob's name and went to the next one. Marcus Biggs Jr…bought a 1992 red Feltzer…behind thirteen payments, and lives at 878 Douglas Ave…apartment 6D. Slums district…shit, David thought as he turned on the GPS and punched in where to head next. Once he did that, he went onto his phone and called up Alan.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"You got extra ammo with you?" David asked, as he reached for the pastry box for a donut hole.
"Of course! Why, what's the matter?" Alan wondered.
"The next car is over at the slums area." David sighed.
"Yeah, so?" Alan shrugged. "That's not that far of a drive."
"Well, I only got an extra clip with me. Last time I was around that area, it was fucking crazy."
"Well, don't worry David, I got ya back on this." Alan promised.
"Good…I'm gonna need it." David hung up the phone, and went back to driving, and munching on a donut. Shit, it was only about a month and a few some odd weeks where I was around that area…rescuing some strippers, from a violent pimp…let's just hope, it isn't as bad as last time…fuck, who am I kidding?
The tow truck made a turn heading towards a small apartment complex. The complex had a small swimming pool and hot tub, to which, no one was using either one of them. The blue Esperanto followed and parked in a handicap spot while the tow truck circled around looking for the green sports car.
Alan turned the car off, and got out watching the tow truck drive around a bit and position in front of the car, and stopped the engine. "So what's your plan?" Alan asked as he saw David walk up to him.
"If I'm not out within fifteen minutes, something's wrong." David took a breath, pulling out his Beretta and checked it. Fully loaded with one in the chamber, he mused and started walking towards the building.
"So what do you want me to do then?" Alan asked, leaning against the tow truck.
David stopped for a moment, and turned his head and said simply, "Do what you do best." He turned his head back and continued walking forward, tucking the pistol in his pants pocket. He walked inside, and looked around. So far no one, David thought. He went to the elevator and pressed for the button waiting. He pressed the button numerous times but nothing happened. Great…elevator is broken, David sighed in annoyance, kicking the elevator and heard a woman moaning loudly. Or someone is partaking in some sex…damn, guess it's the stairs then. With that, he walked to the stairs and started walking.
The stairwell didn't look dirty as the last apartment building David entered in and jogged up. So far no rats or roaches running around the place and there wasn't any smell of any urine around, which was a plus so far. Once he got to the sixth floor, he stopped for a moment. I wish these people would live somewhere on the third floor or lower…then again, I live high up myself…but at least there is a working elevator where I live!
David shook his head, and opened the door to the sixth floor and saw it looked plush and profligate. The walls were painted black, while the carpet was an eggshell white color. A small gold plated fountain was displayed in the middle, as it was circulating old water. He looked around for the apartment letter, impressed that the apartment was swanky and kept nice. The faint sound of music was close as David looked at his watch. Five minutes had already passed. Ten minutes left, David pondered as he saw the door marked 6D. The sound of N.W.A's 'A Bitch is a Bitch' was playing loudly enough to where the
"Here goes nothing," David said to himself out loud and knocked on the door several times and waited. No one even bothered opening the door. David rolled his eyes and this time, enclosed his fist and banged on the door hard. He stood waiting for several more seconds, and saw the door was opened.
The person that opened the door came out stared at him up and down. He was wearing red tank top, red slacks, and red sneakers with white trim. He took the blunt out of his mouth and blew smoke at David's face. "Fuck you want?"
"I'm looking for Marcus Biggs Jr." David replied, waving the smoke from his face, while keeping his composure and stared into the thug's bloodshot red eyes. "Is he inside?"
The thug stared at him and laughed. "What are you, the police or something?"
"No, I'm here to collect something he should've paid a long time ago. Now where is he?" David said raising his tone.
A woman looked over and stared at David, while taking the joint from her friend. "Nigga, you betta not be raising your voice," The thug said sizing him up.
"Or what?" David said, taking a step further and glared at him. The smell of marijuana smoke entered David's nostrils, nearly causing him to gag. "Matter of fact, get out of my way," David pushed the thug out of the way, and tried to step inside the apartment.
Surprised at the audacity of him, the thug pulled out a Glock 18 machine pistol, and pointed it at David's head. "I should splatter ya fuckin' brains all over the hallway!"
David turned his head and stared at the barrel and the stoned out thug. Fucking pothead has a chance to kill me…shit, even if he wasn't high, he'd put a few in me before I can do anything.
"Not if I say so." Someone said from inside the apartment. "Turn the music off."
Someone complied as the music was turned off, and the figure walked up towards the two of them. The person had on the same silk short sleeve, black dress shirt David had on, only, it had a different designs on it that were gold, than just one plan color. He had on khaki pants that were creased, along with a pair of suede dress shoes. The man stood at 6'1, with a long perm that was shoulder length. His skin color was bronze, as well as his eyes. He stared at the two of them shaking his head.
"Marcus Biggs Jr., I presume?" David guessed.
"You presume correct," Marcus smiled. He looked at his subordinate and shook his head. "Now you know better than that shit."
"This motherfucker here, just comes here like he owns the fucking place and demands that he wanted to speak with you." The thug complained.
"Well, let the man ask what he wants." Marcus said as he looked at David.
Pretty well mannered…better keep my guard up, David thought. He then started to explain himself. "You own a red 1992 Feltzer?"
"Yes, that would be my car…got it as a gift from a relative who passed on. Has a lot of sentimental value to me, ya know?" Marcus clarified.
"Well it's also got one hell of a bill that wasn't paid for," David deadpanned. "Thirteen payments…and I'm here to take it back till you pay it off."
Marcus looked stunned. "Clearly, you can let me hold on to it for a few more days till I pay it off."
"'I'm afraid not," David said regretfully. "Can I have the keys?"
The thug shook his head. "Marcus, don't give him the fuckin' keys man."
Marcus's eyes shot a nasty stare at his subordinate. "Shut the hell up." His eyes then went back to David. "Look, I had no idea about the payments alright? Chalk that up to ignorance on my part. How about I give you something, and we forget this ever happened. What do you say to that?"
"What are you suggesting?" David asked, wondering what Marcus meant.
"I give you a few hundred…maybe one of these fine ladies here for the night, and you let ya boss know, that you couldn't find me at all." Marcus said giving David options as he pointed to one of the ladies and snapped his fingers. Hurriedly, she sauntered over and lean next to Marcus, smiling at him and at David. "Pretty young thing ain't she?"
She was a 5'6 white woman, with an athletic figure, and honey blond hair that was reached down to her ass. Her eyes were the color of chocolate as she stood in front of David in a baby blue two-piece bikini. She stared at David, licking her lips and smiling at him.
David sighed. "Look…the offer is very tempting. But I'm gonna have to take a rain check on it." He said ruefully, struggling not to pitch a tent in his pants.
She scowled at him for rejecting her and, walked away from them. "Fucking faggot," she muttered.
"Sorry," David said calling out to the young woman. He then looked at Marcus and went back to being his professional self. "Now Marcus, I'm sorry but I have a job to do, and it would be nice if I got the keys from you so I can be on my way. Besides, with the money you make from your…business, I'm sure you can buy it back in full. Now, can I have the keys?"
Marcus looked at him up and down impressed. "Alright, keys are all yours." He went into his pocket and pulled out the car keys.
"No hard feelings?" David wondered.
Marcus shook his head. "Nope, just made sure Quentin knows I'll pay him in a week." He handed David the keys. "Be safe."
"Yeah…you too." David said sounding surprised that it went well with no bloodshed at all. That was easy…WAY too fucking easy, he thought as he turned around and walked away.
"Ah, shit, man! I can't believe you just gave him the keys like that!" the thug yelled thinking Marcus was getting soft on them.
Marcus closed the door and looked at his subordinate grimly. "See to it, he doesn't make it to the parking lot…let alone out this building." He turned around to the others who were sitting around. "That includes all of you. Put that fucker down."
Some of them nodded and got up either grabbing their guns from their pockets, or picking them up from the table. Some of the ladies as scantily dressed as they were even went with the rest of the guys carrying pistols, submachine guns.
One of the ladies hefted up an M-16A2 assault rifle with an M203 grenade launcher attached to it. She then took three 40mm grenades and stuffed two in her bra, and one in her panties. Pulling up her red hot pants, she jogged to catch up with the rest of the crowd.
David was halfway down the hallway till he heard several footsteps behind him. He ignored them for a bit as he checked his watch. Ten minutes. And a single bullet fired or…
"Hey, repo-bitch!"
David's mind went back to reality, as he stopped. Knowing that was it was the voice of the guy. "What is it?" David wondered, with his back still turned away from him. "I got a busy schedule."
"Marcus changed his mind," The thug sneered
I knew it I wasn't going to get away with it, David sighed. His eyes widened as he heard a metallic click. A sound he was very familiar with; the hammer of a pistol being pulled back. Gracefully, David pulled out his Beretta and fired a single shot into the thug's head, dropping him like a stone in a lake. He was also surprised that some of the people behind the thug he shot also had guns on them as well. "Oh fuck!" David cried out as he made a beeline towards the stairs. Using the wall as cover, he stuck his gun out, unloading several more shots. "If I have to kill you, I will!" he screamed.
One of them was hit in the thigh as she fell down screaming, while pulling the trigger to a Mac-11 submachine gun, and killing three of her friends. "Look what you made me do asshole!" she yelled remorsefully.
"Not my fault bitch!" David retorted as he came out from cover and fired off two more shots, causing them to hide a bit. He mentally counted how many rounds he fired off and came up to the conclusion that he only had six bullets left. He then checked his watch and saw that he had five minutes remaining. With all the shooting going, on, Alan would hear this shit, and help me out, he thought as he stuck his head out of cover to see what was going on. He then someone trying to run after him. The thug was wielding a Micro-Uzi and spraying the area.
"Die cocksucker!" The thug yelled out as some of the bullets pierced the walls, but regretfully didn't make any contact with his target.
"You first!" David yelled back as he boldly stepped away from his cover and pumped all six bullets into the Micro-Uzi carrying thug.
The bullets dug deep into the punk's chest, mushrooming upon impact and killing him right on the spot as he fell on his back. David then quickly went back into cover as he ejected the spent magazine, and quickly slammed in a fresh new clip, less than three seconds. Make it count David, he thought. He poked his head out of cover and saw one of them desperately trying to reload his gun. Quickly taking aim, he pulled the trigger once and sent a hollow point bullet right into his forehead, killing him in an instant followed by pulling the trigger a few more times killing a female thug.
"Where the fuck are you Alan!" David shouted as he started to get worried and got back to cover. There were more of them shooting at him, and all he had left was seven rounds remaining in his gun. Come on man…I'm running low here!
The woman who was carrying the M-16A2, with one hand, pulled out a 40mm grenade from her bra. She then loaded the M203 with it and whistled at David to get his attention. David eyes looked at who it was and, couldn't believe what she was carrying. Licking her lips, she aimed the weapon towards David, and smiled.
"Oh my God," David muttered, as he scrambled away from the door. He heard the sound of the launcher go off, followed by the heavy explosion that blew off the door, and part of the wall, sending David flying down a flight of stairs screaming. The impact of the fall accidentally caused him to bite the inside of the cheek. He slowly got up, dizzy and hearing bells ringing in his head. He heard more shouting and more gunshots, as he leaned up against a wall and spat out blood on the floor. Fuck…gotta get…out of here, he thought as he heard the voices get even louder.
"SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS!" A voice shouted as the sound of rapid gunfire began. The unknown man had entered from the other side of the stairwell, and was now on a shooting spree. He pumped a .357 bullet into a red tank top wearing thug's head, blowing most of his skull off. "Get ready to die!"
"Who the fu…" before the woman could say anything more, her face went into shock as she, felt a couple of ten-millimeter rounds sink into her body, causing her to drop onto the ground.
The person then pointed his gun at another thug shooting him the kneecaps. When the thug cried out in agony, his cries were cut short from a .357 hollow point bullet, slamming in his eye. "Take it fucker! Fucking take it!"
David heard the voice and smiled knowing exactly who it was. "Alan…crazy bastard," he chuckled. He slowly made it up the stairs, but to be blocked by the woman who was carrying the assault rifle.
"Going somewhere cutie?" She said as she raised the weapon, aiming at David's chest.
David gripped on the railing while holding the pistol in the other hand. He thought of throwing himself down the stairs again, only this time, he had to empty the remaining bullets into her. As he was about to execute his plan, he heard a loud boom. He then saw the woman's head jerk to the side, and fall on the floor hard.
As blood pooled from the dead body and over dripping on the steps, Alan walk over, twirling a pistol. "Waste of pussy, don't 'cha agree?" Alan walked by, stepping over the dead woman's body laughing. He had his Colt Python in his hand, a Colt Delta Elite in the other and, a HK53A3 assault rifle strapped around his shoulder.
"I was expecting you to show up little sooner when the gunshots went off." David said.
"Yeah, but when I heard the gunshots, I made a quick stop to Ammu-Nation, to get some extra firepower. Had to get something better than this Glock, so I picked up this Python, this sweet Delta Elite and this as well," Alan handed him the HK53A3, and two spare clips. "Sorry if I gave ya ass a scare."
"Don't worry about it." David said letting it go. He kneeled over by the dead woman and, grabbed the rifle from her hands. He then went into her bra and grabbed the other 40mm grenade from there.
Alan stared in disgust. "David, what the fuck are you doing? She's dead man! Now's not the time to cop a goddamn feel! That's just sick!"
David ignored him, as he then patted her pants down and saw the second 40mm grenade was located. Shaking his head, he pulled down her panties a bit and pulled the second grenade out.
"Jesus Christ…I know you're desperate for some, but damn! Don't you have any kind of fuckin' decency?" Alan said shaking his head at him.
David got up and handed Alan the grenades, including the M-16A2. "I was getting these from her, asshole."
"Oh…I thought you were…"
"Alan, I may be a killer, but I'm not that fucking twisted. Now come on, let's get the hell out of here before Marcus shows up and wants his keys back." David recommended.
"Yeah, no problem," Alan agreed, ejecting a clip from his Delta Elite. "Lead the way man, I'll cover ya." He pocketed his pistols including the grenades, and brought the assault rifle up, ready for whatever was coming after the two.
David pocketed the Beretta and, thumbed the safety off of his new weapon. It had a retractable buttstock, and the clip that was already in the gun was a high capacity magazine. David aimed the weapon as the two hurriedly ran down each flight, till they reached the bottom floor and exited out.
"Alright, I parked the Esperanto, right over by the tow truck, so it's clear sailing…"
A bullet nearly hit Alan as it embedded itself near a wall. David saw that there was several more of them were by the parking lot. They weren't near the cars, but they would have to go through a bunch of them to even make it there. To make matters worse he saw Marcus with them.
Marcus was duel-wielding a pair of custom made, gold and silver plated, two-tone Desert Eagles, chambered to fire the powerful .50AE round. He stared at David as he brought up one of the heavy pistols and fired. The bullet nearly hit David as it slammed into the lobby desk.
David ran out and used an old Clover muscle car as cover. He then, stuck out his weapon out and fired off several rounds. "Come on Alan!" he shouted, firing off a few more rounds.
As Marcus and the rest scattered to find cover, Alan started running towards David. He saw one trying to run to a jeep, and snapped off a shot at one. The 5.56mm bullet tore into the thug's chest, causing him to fall down and die in the middle of the lot. Once he got to David, Alan ducked down.
"Now, what the fuck do we do?" Alan questioned as popped from cover shooting off a few rounds before ducking back into cover.
Think David…think! David's head was swimming with several ideas. But he couldn't make up his mind. Come on ya idiot, think of a plan…
"Hello? Earth to David, we're getting shot at! Do you even care!" Alan shouted, bringing David back from his thoughts.
Hmm maybe this is the best idea…if not the only idea. "Remember when I said; let's not try to kill anyone?" David said, hearing the hiss of one of the muscle cars go flat.
"Yeah, what about it," Alan asked.
"Plan B! Let's mow right through 'em!" David grinned.
"Music to my fucking ears!" Alan grinned as well. He quickly went into his pocket and pulled out one 40mm grenade and ejected the empty shell from the previous grenade. He loaded a fresh one inside the M203, and locked it in. "EAT HIGH EXPLOSIVES MOTHERFUCKERS!" Alan screamed as he stood from the bullet-riddled car, and launched one 40mm grenade at a group of thugs hiding behind several cars. The grenade charged out of the grenade launcher and hurled towards them with high speed, until it hit the side of the car.
"HAPPY LANDING!" David yelled watching them fly up.
Alan shouted in victory as the car exploded, sending five thugs in the air screaming for whoever they cared for, at the top of their lungs till they had hit the ground with bone crunching force. He ejected the shell from the grenade launcher laughing wholeheartedly at his devastation.
David smiled, knowing that his partner got most of them. "Come on, let's move up," he said as he got up. He saw one of the thugs that Alan had taken care of; slowly dragging himself towards a gun that was several feet away from him. David noticed that both of his legs were blown off, as well as most of his fingers on one hand. He also noticed that his face was badly burned as he groaned in pain. David quickly raised his weapon at the thug's head and, tapped the trigger twice, putting the wounded man out of his misery. He looked up and saw that there was a few more, including Marcus himself.
"You aren't leaving this parking lot asshole!" Marcus yelled, while a few of his cronies shot at David.
Bet ya I can, David thought as he popped from cover, pulling the trigger and killed one of Marcus's men in the foot, causing him to fall down and catch two more bullets to the neck and head. "We're not budging Marcus!"
"Yeah, prick! We are leaving this parking lot, with your keys and your car! So back off, and maybe we'll just let you go with a bullet in ya ass!" Alan shouted, pissing Marcus off even more.
Marcus had enough. He was going to get his keys back, come hell or hot water. Being strong-minded to get back what was his, he stepped away from the Patriot, and aimed one of his guns at David. As pulled the trigger, there was a large booming sound from the Desert Eagle as, a .50AE round slammed into the side view mirror to the car David was hiding behind. The glass shattered into tiny pieces, falling on David's head. He continued shooting at the car, with a smug expression. "Well, what's it gonna be buddy?" Marcus yelled in between gunshots. He was missing on purpose, hitting parts of the car that wouldn't explode. He figured doing it would scare David, causing him to jump out of cover and be cut down by his gang's bullets. When both of his guns were empty, he grew annoyed and, looked at two his assistants; one male and one female both of them wearing red tank tops and jeans. "Take care of this," He instructed.
The two of them nodded, and cocked their weapons. The guy had a Mac-11 submachine gun, while the woman was holding onto Winchester 1300 Defender shotgun. Following orders, the two jumped from cover and started running towards them shooting wildly.
David shook his head, seeing as they were no challenge to either one of them, and that the two were lacking in aim. He shot one of them in the neck, forcing the thug to stop in his tracks and hold his neck in shock as blood squirted out like a fountain. David then, turned his gun on the second punk and shot him in the woman in her hip and in her thigh.
Yelping, she fell flat on her face, only to get up two seconds later and press on her attack at David, shooting a barrage of twelve-gauge buckshot. It blew off a chunk of the back bumper, narrowly missing David. The determination she had to get up and continue her assault was astounding. "Just die already!" she yelled.
Aiming his HK53A3 at her, he shot at her in the other thigh, bringing her on her knees, hoping she would just stay there and surrender. She began reloading franticly, breathing heavily from the adrenaline in her body. She only managed to put in three shells, but she still continued to pour it on as she pumped her shotgun.
Ok, that's enough. "Alan, drop her!" David shouted. He ejected the spent magazine.
"Sweet dreams bitch," Alan said underneath his breath as he quickly brought up his assault rifle and tapped the trigger quickly, pulling off a Mozambique finish; two bullets in the chest, and one directly in her head. Still in the groove of things, he pulled out the final 40mm grenade, and loaded into the M203.
"You ready man?" Alan called out to David, gripping onto his weapon tightly.
David cocked his weapon and nodded. "Ready when you are!" he answered back.
"Cover me then!"
Alan jumped from out of the cover and spotted Marcus and the few remaining thugs that were left. Whipping out his weapon, Alan grinned delightedly. Marcus noticed as well as he got up and tried to run. Marcus only managed to run a few feet, as Alan pulled the trigger hard, delivering a 40mm grenade towards them.
The Patriot exploded in a flash as the thugs flew back. Some of them felt their skin burn from the scorching heat, while some of them felt their fingers, feet, or even an arm tear from their body from the sheer force of the blast. Marcus on the other hand felt his shirt burn hotly, including his back and hair, as he flew several yards away from his crew. He could be heard around the parking lot yelling for his mother, as he skidded against the asphalt, rolling till his head hit the curb.
David and Alan got up from their respective sides, and slowly walked around surveying the damage. David raised his weapon, in case if there were any surprises, while Alan continued to laugh at the damage he caused.
"Did you see that?" Alan said shaking his head. "The whole Patriot blew up…and it sent that fucker flying!" he laughed even harder.
David chuckled a bit. He had to admit; hearing the man cry out for his mother was pretty funny. "And you say I'm twisted."
"Well, shit, you were feeling up a dead woman."
"It was to get the grenades!" David retorted defensively.
"You sure?" Alan teasingly asked, follow by a laugh.
"Whatever…we got the keys, so let's get the hell out of here, before…" David stopped when he heard a faint groan. Wondering what it was, he jogged up to where the burning wreck was. When he arrived, he was at a loss for words for what he stared at. "Oh, shit."
Alan was surprised as well at what he saw as well. "You gotta be kidding me."
Marcus was still alive, but in bad shape. Both of his legs were broken, as part of the bone was sticking out from the skin. His left shoulder was dislocated while the hand had a missing thumb and, a broken middle finger. Only his right arm and hand were lucky enough to not have any sort of injury. His face was covered in scars, while his nose was broken and spitting up blood. He could barely open mouth as some of his teeth were either missing or badly chipped, and even when he tried to speak let alone whisper, it hurt like hell to try.
"I say we put a bullet in him. Call it a mercy killing." Alan recommended.
David stared at Marcus cold as ice. "No." David said denying Alan's request. "I already got what I came for. Let's go."
"Are you sure man? I mean, the bastard is fucked up, but suppose he gets all better and comes out the hospital, looking for ya?" Alan said as his eyes shifted from David to Marcus who was whimpering. "You really want to take that risk?"
"After what we did to his crew, you really think he's gonna be coming out for me, especially the condition he's in?" David wiped the sweat off his forehead and started walking. "Let's bring these cars in to the dealership man…I just want to get this over with."
The two of them started walking to till they arrived at their cars. While Alan got in the car they got earlier, David started attaching the Feltzer to the back of the tow truck. It took him several minutes to remember how to work everything as, he finally managed to have the convertible attached and locked.
David quickly got inside the tow truck, pocketing the keys, and setting aside the assault rifle Alan gave him. He then placed a checkmark on the name and saw the next one. Gloria Ferro…twenty-three years old…college student at Daytona Tech…a pink 1998 Phobos GT…behind eleven payments…lives on 8424 Montebello Street, Downtown area. Should be easy, David thought as he started the engine and started driving. He went through the pastry box and pulled out a chocolate crueler, thinking to himself, that he deserved it after the shit he went though and ate.
The trip back to the Brownstand dealership was a long trip, but they eventually made it. David pulled out his cell phone and called Alan instructing him to park the car by the large parking garage. Once they parked everything, David came out holding onto the pastry box with some of the soda's on top while; the assault rifle's strap was over his shoulder.
"What we got here?" One of the mechanics asked looking at the Feltzer and the Esperanto.
"A few cars Quentin wanted," David said walking away handing the tow truck keys to a mechanic. "He saw a car that had a large blue shroud, covering thee entire car. Must be something special to have it covered up, he thought.
"Shit, what's with the rifle then?" A second mechanic speculated with a smirk.
Alan walked up and said, "Let's just say someone didn't want to give the car up." He then ran up joining David. "So we're going for the third car?" He asked as he grabbed an E-Cola from off the box.
"In a little bit. Right after I have a little discussion with Quentin." David answered as he opened the door. He saw the receptionist typing away on her keyboard rapidly, and knocked on her desk to get her attention. "Where's Quentin?"
The receptionist stopped and looked up. "Oh, hey David. Nice gun by the way. Quentin is still at his office."
It was all David needed to hear as took a step back and headed towards the office and handed Alan the pastry box and the sodas. "Hold this till I come back. Shouldn't take that long." He turned around and started walking to the office, getting ready to have a small talk with Quentin.
"He's having a phone conversation with someone!" The receptionist yelled.
David ignored her and opened the door. Once he walked in, he slammed it shut. He saw Quentin staring at his computer and talking on his phone. "We need to talk."
Quentin looked up seeing David's stern face and put up a finger, gesturing to give him a minute before he was finished. "Listen, the parts are gonna take a while for me to get. Well, either you can wait for a few months for me to get them, or go to…"
Growing impatient, David snatched the phone. "He'll call you right back." He then hung up the phone. "You and I need to talk. Right now."
"The fuck is your problem kid?" Quentin demanded. "And what's with the fucking gun?"
"Never mind the gun. I've been out doing your shit all morning long," David said walking back and forth, staring coldly at him. "And it seems that one of your customers tried to fucking shoot at me."
Quentin raised an eyebrow intrigued at what David told him. "Which one?"
"Marcus Biggs Jr."
Quentin laughed a bit. "I remember him. Real smooth guy. Thuggish in some ways. Bit of a backstabber though. Smiles in ya face, and something happens. He once pulled the same shit to me at a poker game once. That's why he's got such a nice place. How did that go?"
Why, what happened to him?"
"He's busted up and bleeding out at his apartment parking lot." David said putting it bluntly.
Quentin started at him staggered. "Why would you do that?"
David drew a breath and started. "First off, the guy, hands me the keys with little to no hesitation, and as soon as I head to the stairs, he has his goddamn cronies after me, which involved a shootout. Then, when I got out, he had more of his crew, including himself, coming after my partner and I. What was I supposed to do? Give up and say 'Hey, you know what? You can keep the car for a few days. I don't mind at all!' Fuck that!" He tossed him two of the car keys from the cars they brought in. "There you go. After this last one, I'm done for today."
Quentin looked at him even more surprised. "What you mean 'I'm done for today'? We had a deal!"
"Well, change of plans. After I deal with the third car, I expect my money ready and the Sentinel gassed up when I get back." David started heading to the door till he heard Quentin clear his throat for his attention.
"Guess again David. I'll have the money ready, but the car? Forget it." Quentin said denying the new deal David had.
David stopped once he got near the door. He turned his head and glared at Quentin, pissed off. His fingers twitched anxiously, wishing for the gun he had slung on his shoulder, to be used right then and there after what he heard. He then saw a paperweight and, figured it would do the trick. The intensity kicked up a notch as, he turned and walked up to Quentin, snatching the silver heavy object from the desk, not breaking his stride, until he got up close and personal to his face. "Give me one reason I shouldn't bash your goddamn face in." David said bitterly.
"How about I give you three; first off, you wouldn't be able to get out of this place alive, regardless of what gun you got with. Second, the moment you would've walked out and headed back to the garage, I'll have those mechanics rig ya car in a flash to fall apart, or even worse…blow it up." Quentin said returning the expression. "And last but not least, Johnny would know. And I'm sure he wouldn't be too happy you killed me, let alone harm me in any way. He told me about your little anger issues."
Fucking loudmouth, David thought. The thought of Johnny, let alone his name made him sick to his stomach.
Quentin continued. "But hey…we can work something out here. You go ahead and work on the third car, and when you come back, I'll pay you the money, as long as you do an extra mission for me. You do it well, not only you get the car back, but an extra five grand. If you don't do the job for me, you don't get squat. Now doesn't that sound like a good plan rather than bludgeoning me with a paperweight?"
David stared at him and dropped the paperweight. "Fine…but after this car, I'm done, unless I feel like doing any more. Alright?"
"Fine by me. No need to end this friendship in bloodshed." Quentin said drawling out the word 'fine'.
David heard him and opened the door. Who the fuck ever said, we were friends?" He then walked out, slamming the door loudly. He continued walking, only a bit faster as he headed to the lobby and saw Alan drinking a soda while, flirting with the receptionist, who looked uninterested. "Come on Alan, we got one more."
Alan quickly turned his head and saw David walk past him, heading outside. He quickly jotted down his number and, gave to the receptionist. "Gotta go babe, give me a call sometime. Hey, man. Wait up!" Alan ran, while the receptionist glanced till he was out of sight, and tore the paper up. When he caught up to David, he noticed his partner's cold glare, including the face that he saw David balling up his fists. "You alright man?"
David eye's caught Alan's stare and started to calm down a bit. "I'm alright."
"You sure?"
"Yup," David guaranteed. "Alright, listen. Last one is at Downtown. It's a college chick that's driving a pink Phobos GT."
"Shouldn't be too hard to spot it then," Alan said confidently. "But I'm not driving it."
David cracked a smile. "Which is why we're taking the tow truck."
"Fine by me, but do you really need the gun with you?" Alan pointed at the rifle.
David shrugged. "Not really. But I'm going to need it for a job later tonight."
"You need a hand for that one? Two guns are better than one."
"Yeah, but I think I got this one." David said certain he didn't need the help. "Besides, you got that thing with Tiffany Linx."
Alan looked at David after he heard the last name. "Linx? You know her?"
"Slept with her while ago," David said, shaking his head. Once he got inside the truck, he said, "Then again, I don't remember much of it."
Alan got on the opposite side, and looked at him puzzled. "Pussy was that bad?" Alan laughed, slapping at David's back.
"Didn't say it was man," David answered back. "Just had one to many glasses of wine and blacked out."
"Hah! Lightweight," Alan commented. He grabbed a honey bun out of the box and began munching down.
"Yeah, whatever." David rolled his eyes and, started the truck. He backed up, and shifted gears, heading out the garage, and out the parking lot. He punched in the address quickly, and saw that the trip was a sensible one.
"Let's see what they got on the radio," Alan wondered. He turned the radio, fumbling with the dial to hear a station. After several seconds, he found nothing he wanted. "Hmm maybe some good ol' classic rock will do the trick." He thought out loud and turned it to V-Rock. "Can't believe this station is still on after all these years," Alan said as the song 'Shut Up and Dance' by Areosmith was starting to play.
By the time they made it to the downtown district, it was already 1:30pm. David looked at the address marked on the GPS and made a turn. "Montebello street…gotta make one more turn." David sighed as he heard several people honking their horns behind him.
"Want me to shoot to scare 'em off?" Alan requested.
David simply shook his head no and, saw the large condo, with the address numbered '8424'. He entered the underground parking garage, and much to his amazement, no one was even in the booth. The parking garage was half filled with different kinds of cars, but there was one that stuck out like a hillbilly at an all black comedy club; the pink 1998 Phobos GT. "There it is…alright listen, after I get the car attached to the back, I'm going to get the keys. Keep a look out any shit that goes on alright?" He parked the tow truck behind the car, and jumped out quickly.
"And if the same shit happens like with that Marcus punk, then what?"
"Then kill them," Not wasting any time, David finished lifting the tow truck and attaching it. "Be back in a little while." He quickly jogged out of the garage and, entered the lobby. The lobby looked as much the lobby at his apartment. Only difference was that there was a payphone, as well as an old, broken, arcade cabinet of 'Pogo the Monkey'. There was a guy behind the desk, staring at a computer in a trance. He thought it was nothing until, he heard a moaning from the computer. Noticing the bell near him, David pressed on it.
The man was staring at BBW porn and licking his lips with a sneer. He then heard the bell ring a second time and quickly closed the web browser. He looked up and saw him. "Is there something you wanted?"
David answered, "I'm here to speak with Gloria Ferro. Do you know her apartment number?"
The man behind the desk rapidly typed the name and went through the list. Five seconds later, he came up to the name. "She's up in apartment 2A, first apartment on your left."
"Thanks." David said and took the elevator. He immediately pressed it for the second floor and waited as the doors closed and the elevator slowly began moving up. "Please, let this be simple," David prayed out loud. The elevator made it to the second floor, followed by the doors opening. He quickly stepped out looking for the apartment door 2A and, saw that it was only a few steps away. Alright…let's do this. He knocked on the door. He heard someone rush towards the door, knocking into stuff.
"Who is it?" the person yelled inside the apartment.
"I'm here to collect the car," David said bravely.
The door opened and it was a guy shirtless, wearing shorts and a towel draped over his shoulder. He was an inch shorter than David, and had scruffy blond hair along with blue eyes. He looked at David puzzled. "You here to do what?"
"I'm here to repossess a pink Phobos GT. Is Gloria around?"
"I'm her boyfriend Phil. She's exercising. Why are you here to take the car?"
"The car has a large bill that hasn't been paid for. So I'm here to take it back." David explained. "I'd like the keys for it as well."
"Yeah, sure man. I mean is there a way I can get the car back?" Phil asked.
"Well, if you can pay the entire bill or at least half of what ya owe, I guarantee you that you'll have the car back soon." David promised.
"Well alright. Give me a second to get it. I swear man, she's gonna flip out. I mean, I paid for the car, but it's under her name."
So that explains her name is on the list, David thought as he waited for several seconds. He then came back with the car keys.
"Here are the keys, including the spare key. Listen, you gotta get out of here alright? She didn't see me take them. So I'm gonna have a hard time explaining this shit to her." Phil said sounding a bit worried.
"Well, telling the truth helps. Good luck, and have a nice day." David said with a smile as he stepped back and walked away from the door. He decided to take the stairs, pocketing the keys and running down the stairs till he got towards the basement level of the garage.
Alan was twirling his Colt Delta Elite around and saw David jogging towards the car. "That didn't take too long."
"And no gunshots involved." David grinned. "But we are gonna have a pissed off woman if we don't move."
"So how did you…"
"Her boyfriend was glad enough to hand it over," David said cutting him off. "Now let's head out of here!" He quickly started the truck. Just as the truck started moving slowly, a woman started ran out of the stairs and chased after them.
It was Gloria. She was a short, but cute woman who had on a pink and yellow track suit with matching running shoes. She had her thick blonde hair tied up into a ponytail, which showed off a pair of yellow diamond stud earrings. She was brandishing a metal baseball bat and, had a look of fury in her eyes.
She stopped in the middle if their way, forcing David to stop the truck. "Where you going with my car!" she cried.
David rolled down the window and, poked his head out. "Sorry, Gloria, I gotta take the car from you."
"That's not fair! I wasn't notified at all!" Gloria screamed. She stared at David with pale blue eyes. "You can't take my baby away!"
"Quentin says otherwise. Sorry hon. Maybe, if you got something a little less cheap you wouldn't be in this predicament," David said in a firm manner.
Gloria stared at him. Her lip was trembling as she started to cry. "Can't you show some kind of kindness, and let me off the hook please?"
"No." David said candidly.
"You can't do this to me! You know who the hell I am?" Gloria vexed.
David answered back. "Yeah; a bitch who didn't pay her bill. Now could you move out of the way? You're blocking the exit."
Gloria's eyes widened when David called her a bitch. Gripping the baseball bat with her small pale hands, she swung hard. "I…want…my…car…back!" Gloria screamed hitting the truck repeatedly. "Give…it…back…NOW!" She smashed both headlights, including the side view mirror on David's side.
"Ah, shit!" Alan yelled as she swung the bat at the windshield, causing it to have a big spider web crack. "Lemmie see if I can reason with the broad," he said as he pulled out his Colt Delta Elite
"You're not shooting her," David said refusing to hurt her.
"So, what do we do then? Let her bash the truck up till she gets tired?" Alan yelled. He rolled down his window and yelled. "Hey bitch! Cut that shit out!"
"What did you call me?" Gloria said staring at Alan wild eyed.
"You heard me ya, fucking midget bitch!" Alan yelled, challenging her. "Get the fuck out of here!"
"I'll show you who's a bitch, motherfucker!" Gloria shrieked. Before she could swing again, her boyfriend grabbed her from behind and pulled her back hard. She immediately jumped from the scare, and dropped the bat.
Phil pulled her away, giving David a chance to drive out. "Drive man! I'll try to talk to her! Just go!"
"Phil, what the fuck! They're taking my car!" Gloria shouted, struggling out of her boyfriend's grasp.
"They have to babe. Calm down!" Phil begged.
"Calm down! CALM DOWN! Those fucking pricks have my car and call me a bitch on top of that, and you're telling me to fucking calm down?"
"What you still doing here man? Go!" Phil yelled.
David thanked him and started driving. He could hear Gloria cussing a storm, followed by crying. Shit…she cusses more than Lilly, he thought. He exited out the garage and got back onto the street.
The two of them were quiet. David continued to drive, while Alan grabbed another crueler from the box and ate. The two of them didn't saw a single word to each other, tired from the day they had just had.
David made a turn, entering the freeway and turned on the air conditioning. He then spoke. "You saw the way she flipped out at me?"
Alan cracked a smile and laughed. "How about when she started swinging the bat, like she was Tony Gwen?"
David laughed even harder and started imitating her voice, but badly. "Give me back my car!" He laughed again. "I was struggling not to laugh when ya called her ass a midget."
"Shit, you saw how short she was, wearing that getup. Looked like a pint sized bottle of pink lemonade."
The two laughed hysterically. As they entered Brownstone, and drove to the dealership. As soon as they entered the garage one of the mechanics stared at the damage to the front of the truck. David grabbed the rifle and got out, while Alan grabbed the pastry box and the last two sodas.
"The fuck happened to the truck?" The mechanic said looking shocked.
"Just worry about the Phobos GT." Alan said as he set the box on a workbench. "Hey David, I'll be out by the parking lot!"
David nodded. He walked out of the garage and jogged up to the entrance of the building. He saw Quentin having a small conversation. Interrupting the conversation, David cleared his throat.
Quentin took a look at him and then at the clock. "Well that didn't take you long at all."
"Well, it went better than the last one," David said handing him the keys. "We had a deal remember?"
Rolling his eyes, Quentin said, "Yeah, yeah. I remembered," he said as he went into his pockets and pulled out a small knot of hundreds and fifties. "You going to do the job I asked you?" He asked while he counted and, handed David three grand.
As long as I get the car back, he wondered. "Yeah sure, I'll take the job. Now what is it that you wanted me to do?"
So what did you think? The bit where Alan was at the doughnut shop was loosely based off a scene from The Sopranos. The scenes where the two of them were repossessing the cars from the first and third owners were inspired from that tv show Operation: Repo. I had only saw it a few times and as much as it's fake I found it funny seeing how these people got all mad, pissed off, panic and cry over the fact that they didn't pay their shit on time. As for the part where David is at the hotel and the clerk is busy watching porno, was actually something that I encountered a few months back. Had to ring the bell several times for him to snap out of it and close his laptop haha! I also decided that David should get a lower body count in this chapter, and let Alan get the kick out of things. But don't worry! I'll have our David killing and mutilating more people in the next chapter so, don't forget to read and reply. Thanks and have a great day! ^_^