Summary: Kung shoe and cake can fix anything, even murder and jail.

Chapter 27

Burnie Burns approached his car with a frown on his face. He didn't like how things had transpired with the Fake AH Crew. Yes they were a threat to their credibility and yes that manage to fuck up the most simple of tasks given to them, but the fact remained that they were still more than just the Syndicate's gang front. Geoff had been in Burnie's apartment all those years ago with Gus recording lines for Red vs. Blue in a closet. Jack was one of the first employees Rooster Teeth had ever hired, Gavin had been a community member and friend almost since the inception of Rooster teeth, Michael was one of the funniest guys on staff and he and Lindsay were just starting their family, Ryan was their own resident mad genius, and Ray was the best gamer in their arsenal. They had been around so long that they were friends, no—

Family, to everyone in the syndicate. Could he really kill them?

Burnie's frown deepened, standing outside his car door and thinking hard. Matt was the boss now. Burnie had stepped down long ago when he realized Matt had more of a head for both business and operations, and because Burnie missed production and field work. What Matt says goes, but he could be a cold mother fucker. Could Burnie really act as Matt's right hand and destroy the Crew? He could, yes, he was good at what he did as the Syndicate's executioner. He had only been called on a few times, mostly for schmucks who deserved it, but this time….it would be worse. More personal, more unfathomable. Was he really going to hunt the Crew down? Maybe he could claim that had run too far and too fast for him. No, Matt would turn on Burnie and Burnie had a family to think of. Maybe the Crew had died in the plane crash and Matt's informant was wrong. Maybe—?"

"Hiyah!"

Burnie spun around at the voice reflexively and ducked as a shoe came hurtling out of the darkness at him. He knew that calling card and once upon a time he would have flung his own shoe back. That was how Kung Shoe worked. But this wasn't once upon a time, this was now, and he had his orders.

Burnie pulled his gun and aimed straight ahead, squinting into the dark. "Hands where I can see 'em Gavin." he said sternly.

Gavin stepped out from behind a nearby dumpster, his hands raised and his face more serious than Burnie had ever seen it.

"God damn it Gavin," Burnie said sadly. "You were supposed to run."

Gavin shook his head. "You're not gonna shoot me Burnie," Gavin said fiercely, no trace of his usual glee in his voice. "We both know that."

Burnie cocked the hammer back on his gun. "I don't have a choice, Gav," Burnie said, kicking himself for using the nickname. He was supposed to remain detached. He was screwing that up royally.

"Yeah you do actually," Gavin argued. "You can let me go, let the lot of us go, and do what we do best."

"Screw everything up like idiots?" Burnie asked wryly.

Gavin grinned. "Yeah, pretty much."

"I have my orders," Burnie said.

"So do I," Gavin replied. "Jack said to get you to stand down. That's what I am doing. Even if you shoot me right here, at least I tried." Gavin took a step forward and Burnie tensed, both wanting to pull the trigger as conditioned and fighting the impulse out of guilt. "You won't shoot me."

"Don't move Gavin," Burnie said angrily.

"We've been friends for over half my life," Gavin continued, oblivious to Burnie's internal battle. "You're really gonna kill me just because some pleb told you to?"

"That pleb is my friend and boss," Burnie said. "He'd kill Ashley," he pointed out, naming his girlfriend who also worked for the Syndicate. "He may even go after my kids. What choice do I have?"

"Just one," Gavin said with a sudden cheeky grin.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Burnie stiffened at the new voice and at the feel of cold steel pressed against the back of his neck. God damn it, Gavin had been a decoy hadn't he? Sure enough, the other members of the Fake AH Crew stepped out from behind buildings and dumpsters and the odd leftover car here and there.

"Drop the gun, Burns," said Ryan, his voice like iron.

Burnie swore and did as he was ordered. Jack stepped forward, in front of Gavin with his own gun trained carefully on Burnie's forehead. He looked as fierce as Burnie had ever seen him and he realized that in Geoff's absence, Jack had taken up the mantle of leader.

"I'm not going to shoot you, Burnie," Jack said calmly. "I just want to talk."

"Talk while having the Mad King hold a gun to my head?" Burnie spat. "Yeah, really comfortable scenario for a chat."

Jack shrugged. "You and Matt left us no choice. Besides, it's not just any gun, it's Marshall's gun. Remember? From the last execution you performed?" Marshall had been employed a brief time for the Syndicate and executed shortly thereafter by Burnie for reasons unknown. Matt was in the habit of keeping trophies from the executions. It had been Jack's idea to use one such trophy against Burnie. He knew Burnie did what he had to do, but each execution he did ate at him. If they could play his guilt, they may have had a chance.

"How ironic," Burnie said, rolling his eyes. Inside though he was nervous. He hadn't regretted that last execution, but the secrecy Matt had wrapped around it still ate at him.

"I wouldn't say ironic," Ray said with a mocking grin. "But it is odd in unexpected ways that defies our normal circumstances."

Michael face-palmed. "Fuck Burnie, I'll shoot YOU for making a Red vs. Blue reference."

"And you are all misusing ironic!" Ryan snapped.

"Look, what do you guys want?!" Burnie finally snapped. "Either kill me or let me go so I can shoot all of you! Either way stop dicking around!" Burnie huffed angrily. "Christ, no wonder you guys never got anything done."

Ryan thumped his pistol against Burnie's skull, hard. Burnie stumbled forward and turned to take a swing at the guy, but Ryan cocked the hammer back. "Not the smartest move, Burns."

"Easy Ryan," Jack said calmly. "Let's not make this worse. Look Burnie, all we want is for you to back off for the next 36 hours. Unfreeze our assets and let us do what we need to do."

"Which is?"

"Bust Geoff out of lock up."

Burnie laughed bitterly. "It can't be done," he said. "You guys know that."

Ray shrugged. "Yeah but it's worth a shot. We either succeed and you all have Geoff back or we fail and very clearly die in the attempt. Either way, you and Matt's problems are solved."
"You think busting Geoff out will really convince Matt that you aren't a bunch of fucking morons?"

"Like we give a shite about his opinion," Gavin replied instantly. "We're doing it for Geoff. We let him down and now we gotta fix it. He believed in us, even when you and his other oldest friends told him not to."

"But yes we do think Matt will be convinced," Jack said, cutting across Gavin with a glare. "If we pull off something no one else has, our street cred will go through the roof. If we can do that, everything else will be a walk in the park."

"It can't be done!" Burnie snapped. "You're out of your goddamn minds!"

"So that's it then!" Gavin shouted. "We either shoot you here and paint a bigger target on our backs or we let you go and you murder every bloody one of us. After all these years that's it? We're done? We're just bloody done?"

"I dunno," Ryan said menacingly. "Are we done, Burnie?"

Burnie looked at Gavin, Jack, Michael, and Ray. Each one of them had been something to him. He knew in his gut that Matt's course wasn't the right course. He felt the loss of Geoff even more acutely, but there was no hope of Geoff ever getting out.

Unless he let the Crew go. If he did there was a small chance. Abysmal, maybe, but a chance.

Burnie sighed heavily. "No...no we're not done yet."

"Well," Ray said cheerfully as Ryan lowered his gun. "If we're not done, let's get started."

Michael growled in frustration. "God damn dude, enough with the damn quotes!"

Geoff sat in the interrogation room, the cold metal of the handcuffs cutting into his wrists as he stared at his hands resting in his orange clad lap. A faceless cop was practically spitting in rage at him but Geoff paid little attention. He was more focused on his tattooed hands, specifically where he had tattooed one of Millie's drawings so many years ago. He hadn't been allowed to see Griffon or Millie when they attempted to visit him. It was probably best, he didn't want Millie to see him like this.

"-grand larceny, property damage in the hundreds of thousands dollars, accessory to murder, punk like you should be shaking in his Goddamn boots right now!" the cop shouted at him.

Huh. So much work for so much nothing.

"You have no proof my client was involved," the public defender lawyer said tiredly, almost disinterestedly. Gone was the high price lawyer on RT's retainer. Matt and Burnie had left him to rot in prison. By now his gang mates were surely six feet under or in hiding. It would explain why he wasn't locked up in here with them. Just his roommate who he spent every night fighting off. Geoff shuddered involuntarily.

"Yeah you better be afraid you no good-"

Geoff sighed tiredly as the guy continued to rant. This was his life now. All that work for nothing. He'd never get out, never see his family again, and never see his Crew again. Despite the fact that he partially blamed them for his fate, he still missed his stupid friends and he didn't regret letting them try.

Much.

After another hour of the lawyer and Geoff giving the cop a whole lot of nothing, the guards came to escort him back. He walked through the halls of sneering and jeering fellow prisoners, enduring taunts and threats directed to him and his Crew. Kerry hadn't been wrong, they had achieved some notoriety for their antics. Simeon thugs who had not posted bail seemed particularly hateful seeing as how they kept using his marked vehicles for their heists. It didn't matter. Geoff kept his face calm, his glare fierce, and his head held high. He would not show weakness.

He was halfway across the prison yard when something slammed into him from behind, nearly knocking him over and causing the guards escorting him to drop him. A random prisoner was swearing at Geoff, waving a shiv and lunging at him. The guards were knocked aside, but recovered quickly, abandoning Geoff to secure the trouble maker. Several other inmates dove into the row and before Geoff knew it the yard was swarmed with guards and he was ducking blows, kicks, stabs, and punches while cracking heads with his metal cuffs. He be damned before he went out like a bitch

Two guards came up on either side of him and dragged Geoff away, fighting him tooth and nail as he struggled to stay in the fray, intent on venting some of his frustrations. The guards were too strong. Before he knew it, he had been pulled back inside and was being escorted in his cell.

"You cocksuckers!" Geoff shouted, jerking at his captors' grips. "Go to hell all of you. You mother fucking bastards!"

They were at Geoff's cell now and all but threw him in there. Big Dong was nowhere to be seen, probably still tangled up in the brawl outside. More prisoners were being escorted back to their cells and the noise coming from them all was deafening. Instead of rushing to their aid, one of Geoff's guard's stood in front of his cell blocking Geoff from view. Geoff started to yell more profanities when the guard withdrew something from his pocket and dropped it in between the bars of the cell.

A box?

"What the hell is this?" Geoff spat, suspicious of any cop, prison guard or no. The box was a small rectangle, about twice the size of his palm. It was shaped like a book but thicker, like a 500 page book. How had the guard concealed it? Why?

"You have five minutes," the guard said calmly. "Use them well."

Geoff raised an eyebrow but before he could speak a low buzzing met his ears. The box was vibrating with a low muffled sound. He knew that type of buzz. Cautiously, Geoff reached for the box and opened it and blinked at its contents.

A small, slightly squashed cake, baked to look exactly like the cake in Minecraft, was in the box. That was odd enough. What was even odder was that thrust into the top, like some ridiculous wedding cake topper, was an iPhone—a ringing iPhone.

"Jesus Christ," Geoff said, part blown away, part exasperated. He grabbed the phone just as it stopped ringing, but he didn't even have a chance to dial before it rang again. The caller ID lit up and the contact name "Bif Top Johnny" popped up on the screen

Geoff laughed helplessly and desperately. Those mother fuckers. They were alive. They were alive and God damn if they didn't have a plan.

End Chapter

Author's Note: Burnie and Gavin talked numerous times on the podcast and in videos about their long running game of "kung shoe" where they essentially sneak up on each other and flings their shoes at each other. I just had to include it, as well as some RVB references. Damn do I miss RT!