Thread: Of Fate & Consequence

This is Officer Emmanuel Connor, I repeat, this is Officer Connor. I'm at the Ace Chemical building. I just saw four men set up a ladder and sneak in through a side window. I repeat, I just witnessed four men sneaking into Ace Chemical. At least one of them was armed. ...I-I think I heard a scream just now. They may have taken a hostage. If there are any able officers in the area, I am requesting immediate backup! I can't wait. I'm going inside! Officer Connor, out. And that was it. The man sat in the front seat of the squad car, door open, feet on the pavement. He wasn't at Ace Chemical. He wasn't anywhere near. He was three blocks away, body tense, holding his badge in his hand, a fingertip tracing wistfully back and forth over the top. Emmanuel sighed, averting his gaze, clutching it firmly from the sides of his palm. It wasn't...it wasn't that he wanted to lead any the other boys into a trap. It wasn't like he wanted them slaughtered, but he was getting paid for this. He was getting paid well. He'd been on Rane's payroll for awhile now, for a few months, and once in awhile he had to do something like this to stay good with the guy. It would only be another three months, maybe four, right? Just a few more shitty things like this...three, maybe four. Then he'd have enough extra cash set aside to sneak his family outta this forsaken city to somewhere new. The grass was always greener, right? He smirked, trying to find some sort of comfort in that amusement, if there was any to be had. Whatever cops answered that call, 'following' him inside... Look, they should know not to mess with Rane or his men. They should know. Everyone knew. Make believe you were taking a dump or something, that you didn't hear the call. If you messed with this guy, it was just common knowledge. It was just...look, these were people that were so dumb they'd just die anyway, right? He'd sleep tonight. He'd sleep well enough. There were far more than four armed men inside that chemical building, just waiting to spring a trap. Oh, there were four out in the open, told to spend the next half hour tinkering with some disabled control panel in front of a big orange vat, but that was just for show. That was part of the bait. If there were 'only four' inside, and an officer was in there already, and there was a hostage situation...whatever goody two-shoes cops were left would charge on in, one, two at a time, think they could take control of the situation, and that's when all the others waiting in hiding would come out. That's when the fun would begin. Hey, hey Rane, are we gonna kill 'em? The hell else you think we're gonna do, dipshit? Rane's voice chuckled. Others started to laugh along too. Hey! Quiet down, he barked. Ha. Ha, yeah, but I mean, I mean, are we gonna go right for it or what? He shrugged. I don't know. Maybe? Why? You got an itch to play around again? Heh. Heh. Heh- maybe. The side of his face grinned, illuminated by a sliver of light coming from a window, showing a smooth cheek and a thick goatee. That's why I love you, you sick fuck. Tell you what. We catch a nigger with this net today, it's yours to play with. Otherwise you stay quiet and keep yourself under control. Two fingers, held together, rose up to point just beneath the man's face. His tone grew firm. Jeremiah Rane could appreciate some sick shit at the police's expense just as well as the next man, but James...James was a wacko right outta solitary. It was one thing to give your kid cousin a job. It was another to have to watch the twisted stuff he loved doing before a dude was even dead. There was a sound of a car turning out front, like it slid a little bit. It was raining out. Raining heavy. One of those nights. Rane motioned with those two fingers to one of the other men in hiding, up on the rafters. He in turn glanced carefully out one of the filthy windows, rubbing a bit at the grime to be able to see it was dark on the inside, so he'd be fine. He wouldn't be spotted. After a moment he turned back, nodded, and made a gesture with his hand. Jeremiah Rane, the leader of this motley bunch, had ordered one of his pig informants to go fishing, to make a make a big ado. It was time to gather up what dumbasses were still playing Boy Scout 'round this town, to thin the herd of some and strike fear into the rest, to give himself less resistance for when he actually did need to pull a job. It seemed like they were about to catch their first.