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The Heist
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-11-2009 11:40
November 5, 1934 - New York - The Tricky Mister - close to midnight
“You want me to rob a bank?!?” said Joey in surprise, suddenly realizing his voice was a little louder than he would’ve wanted to. He quickly scouted the room and was relieved to see no one seemed to have heard him. The Tricky Mister wasn’t really crowded on that late week night.
His interlocutor though didn’t seem to bother much about this situation. He was a middle age slim man in a dark pin striped suit, sitting relaxed across the table with both hands crossed in front of him. His tie was straight, his jacket fully buttoned up, his hair posed a clean arrangement on a side. A short and perfectly cut mustache was framing a slightly prankish smile, as his eyes were thoroughly scouting Bane’s reactions. Although his attitude was loose, he seemed to be the kind of man who always likes to keep himself sharp.
After a short moment of silence he slowly lowered his look, shaking his head in an almost imperceptible move, miming a disappointment gesture. “Mr. Bane” he continued in a low voice “that is…’come si dice’…” snaps his fingers “ILLEGAL!” He rose back up his eyes. “We are not asking you to do anything against the law, but only to acquire the possession of some documents that actually regard US. It just happens that these papers are currently stored in a safe deposit box inside the National Bank and since we have already attained this piece of information, we believed it would be helpful to pass it on to you, in order to make your work easier. However you will decide to retrieve these documents, it is entirely up to you.” He stopped, straightened up his back and took a sip out of the wine glass he had ordered. “Exquisite flavor, Mr. Bane, you should give it a try.”
“Ya, well…I’m more the whiskey type of man. Now…Mr…”
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Replies |
Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner
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Feb-16-2009 02:15
JC scaled up the fire escape two steps at a time, with a bottle of the finest Macallan single malt scotch in his hand. The air was crisp and dry this November afternoon, JC wondered when it would start snowing in New York. Snow was already an inch thick where he left Kristen; he wondered how she was holding on. He knew he needed to finish the job quickly, get paid and return to her. Kristen couldn’t wait.
Joey’s apartment was on the fourth floor. JC slowed his pace as he reached the landing, and stalked quietly to the large window by the back door. He peered inside; Joey was sitting on the couch looking furious, with a revolver in his hand. JC checked his own guns in his holsters, but decided to leave them there for the time being. No use making a bad situation worse. He was quick enough to get to it if necessary. JC took out a thin wire and began to pick the lock.
Although enraged, Joey’s keen sense of hearing didn’t diminish. He knew someone’s behind the backdoor, and focused his attention on it. His gun was aimed at the handle. Three knocks were heard, before the door flung open. No one was at the doorway.
JC, with his back to the outer wall beside the now opened doorway, called into the living room, “Hi again, old partner. Something for your wound.” He held out the bottle of scotch whiskey at the doorway with his left hand so that Joey could see it. Joey fired a shot and the bottle shattered, broken pieces of glass scratched JC’s hand. JC pulled back.
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Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner
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Feb-16-2009 02:16
“Jeez! That was an expensive bottle of Macallan!” JC exclaimed. It was money JC couldn’t afford.
Silence.
“What did you want me to think, Bull?” Removing glass bits from his hand, JC fought the natural urge to pull his gun out, and continued, “You suddenly showed up and said you knew I was in town, and went all cryptic about a bank job you had to do, which I MYSELF was commissioned? Wouldn’t you find it strange? These are hard times Bull, if you’re lucky enough not to notice!” JC sighed, “I’ve just been to Barresi’s and straightened the whole thing up. We’re both in it.”
Suddenly Joey showed up at the doorway and pointed the gun at JC’s temple. His face was pale from the stab wound. “Go ahead and shoot,” JC smirked, “Kristen’d be dead without this commission money anyway, and then there’s no point for me to go on living.”
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-16-2009 17:34
Joey stood there for a moment, as if pondering the idea of actually putting a bullet through J.C.’s skull. He was still furious about what happened and he was also never a church door, but even though he had a harder temper to control, one thing that he was surely NOT, was a cold blooded killer. He couldn’t pull that trigger even if he wanted…not under those conditions anyway. He also knew J.C. might be his only ticket out of this mess.
“I don’t believe you want to use that weapon, Bull…” J.C. posed a large smile. “Too many eyes around here and also…you might come to the conclusion that I’m more use to you alive.” Bane was still staring at him, thinking of his next move. J.C. continued: “Listen, Bull…I’m sorry about what happened back there in that alley, but you do know that stab was only meant to hurt you, no? You can’t really believe I tried to kill you, partner.” He slowly turned his face around towards Joey, who was still silent. J.C.’s voice started again, now slightly softened: “You have to understand, Kristen…”
“Don’t serve me one of your cheap melodramas!” Bane interrupted him in rage. “I know you too well to believe you…and even if it would prove to be truth, I wouldn’t give a dime about it. Now take out that piece and hand it over. SLOWLY!” Bane wasn’t sure what he should do, but knew he needed to control the situation. “And don’t forget the blade” he added.
J.C. didn’t like the idea of surrendering his weapons, but he knew Bane too well to actually believe he was in any danger; thus he decided to comply. Upon disarming him, Bane took a step back. “Now come in. And don’t make any sudden moves. Considering the wound you gave me, I might just pull this trigger by mistake, you know…”
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-16-2009 17:35
J.C. stepped in, still shaking pieces of glass off his sleeve. “Ok, now…are we just going to stand here, or do you plan to offer an old friend a seat?” He smiled again. Bane pointed towards the couch, then headed slowly to an armchair somewhere in front of it. He dropped down hard, showing he wasn’t handling his wound very well. He picked up the bottle and took another strong gulp out of it.
“You’re gonna let me die of thirst here, Bull? Come on, hand me that bottle.” He stretched his arm towards Bane but was stopped by the cold sound of his revolver being armed.
“Sit down there and listen, J.C.” Bane’s voice was getting slightly softer as his face got paler every second. “I ain’t in mood for any of your stories and this here ain’t no social call. Answer my questions straight and you might end up walking out that door on two feet.” His eyes were getting visibly blurry, as his hand was slowly dropping down from the weight of the gun. “Now you said you…were hired…to…” With that Bane has passed out, dropping the whiskey bottle on the floor.
“Damn…” J.C. mumbled…“either I’m losing my soft touch or he is getting old. I didn’t think I messed him up so bad.” He got up aiming again for the bottle. “I guess I’d better help myself under these circumstances.”
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-16-2009 17:36
As he was slowly leaning for the bottle the door had suddenly burst open with a powerful noise. The silhouette of a large man was filling up its frame. He took a look at Joey’s senseless body and then he turned his face towards J.C. His eyes suddenly filled with rage…the kind that a rabid animal exhibits in a moment of madness. With a totally unexpected agility for his size, he jumped towards J.C. and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him hard into a mirror on a nearby wall. He started strangling him as he was slowly lifting his body off the floor. J.C. tried to reach for his gun, then for the blade he used to carry, cursing himself while realizing he had just given both away. He tried to fight the stranger off, but his grip was too strong.
As the man felt that J.C.’s strength was wearing off, he reached his pocket and took out a straight razor. He opened it up placing it on J.C.’s cheek as his face slowly turned into a sadistic grin. “Now Whispers gonna cut you a big nice smile, mate. Say good night.” His voice sounded more like the cold murmur of a snake rather than like a human being’s. As J.C.’s sight was starting to fade, he heard Bane’s voice like coming from a dream.
“Yo, Whispers, set him loose! I need him ‘live and kicking.”
The man turned his eyes in surprise. “You are alive, Joey!?! I thought…” He looked back at J.C. “You sure about this? I was just getting to the good part.”
“I’m positive, yeah. Let him go.”
“Next time…” the man said looking in J.C.’s eyes, then let him drop hard on the floor. He headed then towards Joey and helped him straighten his position.
It took J.C. a good couple of minutes to recover. He got up stumbling towards the couch, picked up the bottle on his way and took a long gulp. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and started talking in a gutted voice: “Now what the hell was that, Joey? What’s with this guy?”
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-16-2009 17:38
Joey seemed to be feeling a little better now, as his voice sounded more clear. “This is…a real friend of mine. Also…as you’ve already noticed, he is a very devoted one too.” A small grin of satisfaction lighted Bane’s face while looking at J.C. rubbing his neck and trying to recover after the shock he had been put through. “Now open up your ears, as I assume neither of us has a lot of time. Considering a note you dropped and also what you said a few minutes ago, I am assuming you were hired by Barresi for the same job as I was: to rob a certain safe deposit box and deliver its content. The fact that you stabbed me this morning leads me to the conclusion that you really didn’t know about me. Now, one thing I don’t understand about this is…why would he bring me in on this if he already had you? I don’t have any field experience in this direction and also your connections are better. This practically may only mean one thing: I must be here to ensure that you deliver as soon as you get to the merchandise. Hmmm…that makes sense.” Joey was basically speaking out loud, both to J.C. and to himself. “Well…after all, it wouldn’t be the first time you would try selling your loot to the highest bidder.”
“Well now…why wouldn’t I? We’re both in this so…we could split the cash.”
“Actually no, J.C., we’re not. You see, my bid is slightly higher than cash in this business. In order to convince me they’ve grabbed Mona.”
“Mona? Thought she was gone from here long ago!”
“Apparently she’s back. So now, you see…I can’t afford the luxury of having those papers end up in the wrong hands.” Joey stopped for a moment, thinking. “How long have you been planning this, J.C.?”
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-16-2009 17:38
“About a week and a half now. Everything’s set. We’re planning to get in tomorrow.”
“A clean job? Like the old days? Who’s in your crew? “Mad” Jimmy? Frankie “Lock”? Charlie “The Gun”?”
J.C. suddenly burst in laughter. “As usual, your information is badly outdated, Bull. “Mad” Jimmy ended up in the mental hospital downtown, Frankie “Lock” is locked down in Folsom and “The Gun” blew his brains into the shower sometime around the middle of last year. Nah…I got a new crew now. And the best thing about it is…they’re expendable…if you get my drift.”
“New crew, you say…I guess it’s good. Well…anyway, since I don’t trust you and you’ve made the unfortunate decision of incapacitating me this morning, I’m gonna send my friend here with you.”
J.C. looked up at Whispers who was standing beside him, looking just as an eagle eyeing his next victim. “Come on, Bull. Let’s be serious. This guy is big and scary…he can attract attention. He will just slow me down. I know we had our differences, but I don’t need babysitter.”
“We’re not negotiating, ‘friend’. You’re walking out of here with him or legs ahead…your choice. He’s gonna be my eyes from now on and also…let me tell you a little thing about him. You see…back in his youth he was the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in New York. Unfortunately he got captured in the middle of a war. They tortured him in ways you can’t imagine. They cut him up from head to toe and in the end…they cut his throat. Now…by some miracle he managed to survive, but was left with the funny voice you have already had the pleasure of hearing. Starting that day he also had developed a strange obsession for blades. Needless to say not even by this day had the police managed to find all the pieces of those guys who brought him in this state. So I have only one advice for you: don’t make any wrong moves with him around. Now…what’s it gonna be?”
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Joey "Bulldog" Bane
Washed Up Punter
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Feb-16-2009 17:39
“You’re not giving me much of a choice here, Bull. I guess we’ll have to do this your way. Now…it’s getting kind of late and I still have some preparations to get done, so if you wouldn’t mind…”
“By all means, go ahead, J.C. I also need to rest a bit.” Bane looked up to Whispers who responded with a short nod. He knew what he had to do.
“My…weapons?” said J.C. while getting up.
“Whispers will hold them for the time being.”
J.C. sighed as he put on his hat and walked out, followed closely by his brand new watch dog. Joey took one more sip of booze and laid his aching body on the couch, falling in a deep sleep.
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red_rose
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Feb-16-2009 22:37
*earlier that day*
Rose darted out of Joeys apartement, pulling her scruffy jacket on as she ran. Excited to be a part of something she ran, laughing down the street in the weak Autumn sunlight. A rose-seller on the corner saw her coming and handed her a flower as she passed.
"Merci, it matches my name you see"
"A rose for a Rose" the seller laughed, watching her thread it through her hair.
She waved goodbye and Rose skipped off downtown, humming to herself. The world could do her no wrong today. Finally she arrived at a dodgy looking poolhouse, taking a deep breath she walked in and surveyed the grubby room.
As the door closed behind her it blocked out the only natural light flowing into the room. Otherwise it was lit by two lightbulbs hanging from the ceeling. She felt strangly out of place.
"Whispers" she murmered
"What is it doll, you looking for someone? I can help you there." An obese man leered over at her from one of the nearest tables.
Rose shuddered and wrapped her jacket around her more tightly. Standing up taller she said more confidently. "I'm looking for Whispers"
A man standing behind a makeshift bar looked up
"What do you want from me?" A voice sounding more snake than human said.
"I came from Joey. Joey Bane" Rose replied, while crossing over to the bar.
Handing him the note and the medallion she looked at him closely. She though he was the biggest man she had ever seen.
"He told me to tell you to get over there quick!" Before she had even finished speaking he had straightened up and was heading towards the door. Following him, she walked out into the sunshine again. He starting sprinting, moving amazingly fast for a man of his side. Knowing she had other things to do, she decided not to follow, instead walking in the other direction. As she passed the door to the bar, the obese man came out and spoke to her
"If you get lost, I can always help you find your way" he said, licking his lips.
Shuddering, Rose sprinted off.
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Joseph Zeo
Tale Spinner
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Feb-17-2009 09:32
Even without a higher bidder, what La Cosa Nostra was offering would be more than sufficient to cover the cost of the operation. ‘Too bad, that now I couldn’t get a bit extra on the side.’ JC thought greedily, as his new ‘watch dog’ breathed down his neck. Not many people could stand eye to eye with JC given his tall figure. Whisper didn’t only stood above him, he was more than double his size.
This was annoying. JC liked to plan alone. He knew he always need a team in the end, but he preferred to be the mastermind, with everyone else knowing only a piece of the jigsaw. With Mr. Hunk hovering over every step of the way, JC felt leashed, as if he himself was the dog.
JC walked into a back alley and pull opened a restaurant backdoor. Whisper followed closely. JC wondered when this chunk of a man would finally blow their cover. A dark and skinny Asian man saw JC and pointed upwards. Passing the sour onion and yesterday’s fish, JC climbed up a narrow staircase onto the mezzanine floor. Whisper tread carefully on the thin wooden steps. JC hoped he might break a few boards and fall. His wish was not fulfilled.
A tiny Thai girl was doing a perfect split on the floor, while arching backwards. Her head was touching her hind leg, and she was reading. Both men had to duck while walking on the mezzanine floor. The girl placed her book on the floor and put her palms together as a sign of greeting.
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