Thread: Money Can't Save You [Alvis Alendran || Squid]

See more Cain James Karl Barry Phil Dale The van was parked at the marina. The place was stocked with the yachts of the spoiled and fabulously wealthy, and a lot of them had small crews, and people that weren't interested in getting too riled up over their employers. The gate to get in was controlled, card access needed, but wth the right timing, adn some generous bribes, a way in could be found, and that was exactly what had happened. When the gate opened up, the van did the same, and seven men filed out, moving forward. They moved with some purpose, like they knew what they were doing. They got close tot he mark that they had come for, adn saw that something was amiss. They took quick cover behind a storage shed. Kale. What the fuck man? You said the boat was empty! Does that look fucking empty to you? One of hte men demanded of their leader. Kale looked at him, staring him down. Kale was not the biggest of hte bunch, nor the best fighter amongst them. But he was cold, calculating, and cruel, and had been good to his word of scoring them money over the years. Kale was a tall man, not bulky, but tall and lean, hard as a whipcord. His hair was a light brown, and his eyes were an icy blue. A lean face with pronouced cheek bones woudl have made him stand out significantly, had his skin not been darker than the night around them. No. It doesn't. And you know what that means? kale asked in a tone that made it sound like he was lecturing a child. It means we have a bigger payday. Phil. Scope it. One of hte other men jumped to task. Phil was a shorter man, just over five feet. He carried a bit more weight on himself, clearly a man who appreciated a good meal, and often. But depite that, he still had bulk him, and under any fat, there was clear sign of muscle, a great amount of strength to him. There wasn't room for soft ones in this group. Phil had a pair of binoculars, and focused them on the yacht. I count, ten...no, twelve...maybe fifteen girls. No more, maybe a a touch less. I...don't see any guys. No crew looking people either. Just a bunch of rich bitches. Phil informed. Kale nodded. Any of 'em look like they can be trouble? Pft, like any bitch is trouble. I'm gonna tell jade you said that. Phil froze, going pale a moment at the thought before reasserting himself, and taking better stock. Nah. All kinds of tasty up there, and all in nice shape, but no one looks like a fighter to me. Phil answered. Then we go in. New plan. Standard hold up. We take them below deck. Out of sight. James, can you drive that thing? Kale asked another man. James, a tall man with a classic blind hair and blue eyed look that had turned many a head over the years, looking more suited to a modeling career than what he really did for a living, nodded. Yeah. I can do it. Take longer if we gotta kick start the engine on the thing, but if it's primed, I can have us out of there in ten, twelve minutes tops. James aswered. Where to? Open waters. Just somewhere else for now. You got it boss. We really doin' this? Kale answerewd by reaching into his worn leather jacket, adn pulling out an equally worn, but well maintained revolver. The others all smiled, and nodded. Time to make things happen. The approach to the boat wasn't hard to make, and the seven men walked with some purpose and drive. When they reached easy visual range, they made a few quick steps before charging up the gangplank to get on board, a few of the men actually simply jumping from the dock onto the ship itself. Kale took careful aim as he moved, adn fired the gun, a single bullet that hammered into the rather expensive looking stereo. Sparks flew, the flat report of the gun echoing as he swept the weapon around. Good evening ladies! I am going to be your MC for the night! And we will have a few quick instructions on how this is going to go! I will have everyone's phones on the ground, now, or someone here is getting a brand new hole in the head! He called out, not bellowing, he didn't want the sound to carry too far, but he did want to make sure no one thought he was bluffing, sweeping the pistol around at teh women to amke sure they knew it wouldn't be hard to put a bullet into them. Several of the other men had armed themselves, less elaborately than the gun, but there were a few wicked looking knives, and several sets of brass knuckles. The largest of them, Dale, simply clenched his fists, each one looking like a they would hit like hammer blows given his size. Who's the closest thing to an owner on this thing? Kale demanded.