Criminal Escapades. (Crime RP)


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Mad nodded as she pulled back into traffic after Michael had rejoined her. "Of course", she responded before continuing, "I think that you will find the new attire up to standards as it were. I assure you, my safety is my utmost concern. I would not short sell you. What we're going to get? I guarantee it'll fit so well, you'll be surprised you're wearing anything." She navigated the streets with the obvious ease of a person highly familiar with the area. She did not speak as they drove for about thirty minutes through heavy NYC traffic. Finally, she nodded towards an enormous storefront with "Imparali's" stenciled across the main entrance. She pulled up to the curb, left the engine running and stepped out. She moved to the sidewalk as a well dressed young man hurried out of the store.

"Good morning Ms Albright. A pleasure to see you once again." He addressed her. She nodded and handed him the keys to her vehicle as she waited for Michael to join her. The young man climbed into the Lexus and pulled carefully out into traffic. Mad headed into the store once Michael had joined her. As she entered, a man in his fifties, who immediately confirmed he fit the stereotype of male fashion designers, almost squealed with joy.

"Oh my goodness", he cried out in an effeminate voice, "Ms Madelyne! It has been FAR too long." He practically skipped over to her and kissed each of her cheeks. He then stepped back and turned his attention towards Michael. He propped his hand on his left hip and tapped the tip of his forefinger on his lips as he regarded the man before asking Michael, "Oh honey, tell me you are here for some proper clothing?" Mad looked at Michael as well and smiled.

"He is a new associate of mine Stephen", she responded. "As you know, I am involved in business meetings often, and this gentleman I believe will need some of your magic to fit in more properly. Don't you think?"

Stephen widened his eyes near comically and nodded quickly before responding, "Oh my yes Ms Madelyne." He slid his hand around Michael's left elbow, and Mad immediately shook her head warningly as she watched Michael tense immediately. Stephen began leading Michael to a three way mirror as he stated in his sing-song manner, "Oh honey, there's nothing to worry about. You.. are going to look... FABulous!"

Michael was asked to step up onto a pedestal, and Stephen quickly went to work. Michael was measured post haste, and then offered a seat. Mad sat next to him as another employee walked up to the two with a tray of coffee and tea. Mad chose tea and folded a leg over the other as Stephen called out several measurements. Quickly, other employees arrived with a variety of suits cut in differing cloths, and in various colors. Mad looked at Michael, and found him to be mostly overwhelmed. She returned her attention to the suits, and quickly made four choices. All dark colors, different cloth types mostly.

Stephen asked, "And when shall we be picking them up Ms Madelyne?"

Mad glanced at the gold watch adorning her left wrist and responded, "In two hours. I think we'll do lunch."

Stephen's eyes bugged out and he shook his head as he said, "I'm afraid I have other orders. Next week maybe, but no sooner. I'm sorry."

Mad sighed and smiled at Stephen. She said, "Stephen. You know I love you, and will never go anywhere else for high quality clothing. Do you think a quick turn around bonus of say... ten thousand dollars might change your time line?" Stephen actually looked as if he genuinely considered the astronomical amount, when she was saying she was about to pay him twenty-five thousand dollars for four suits. He smiled slowly and nodded, "Very well Ms Madelyne. This afternoon. But you have to promise lunch with me soon."

Mad smiled and nodded. "Deal!" she relied. She stood up and hugged Stephen, before turning and heading for the door. She called out, "Come on Martin. Lunch and we'll come back for your business attire afterward."


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Philip was quiet for the entire half hour ride to the mythical land of Impareli's, the most amazing clothing store in the history of the universe. Instead, he admired the scenery, or what scenery there was. Overall, it was a very uneventful drive, the only thing of interest was briefly watching some guy chase another guy, who was in his skivvies. Other than that, it was boring, and Philip probably fell asleep, because the next thing he knew, they were in front of Impareli's, and Ms. Albright was waiting for him to get out.

After getting out, a valet took the keys, and drove the Lexus away, presumably to a nearby parking garage. They walked inside, and Michael was blown away, on the inside of course. He wouldn't let that show. This place was the biggest building, dedicated to nothing but clothes, that Philio had ever seen. There were clothes everywhere, every single one of them thousands of dollars more than he ever expected to pay for anything, more than he was, currently able to, or ever able to pay for anything. "Jesus Christ! You pay this much for clothes? If I spend even $1,000 a year on clothes, I'm spending way too much."

Just then, seemingly from out of the blue, came the most flamboyant homosexual Philip had ever seen. He was nearly scary, but not scary, just nearly. He became scary when he spoke and skipped. "I could kill him," Michael whispered to Madelyne. Then Stephen spoke to Michael. "According to Ms. Albright I am, and please, do not call me 'honey'. It irritates me. Call me Colonel Ambrose." Of course, this 'man' would test Philip's patience to the extreme, by grabbing his elbow, and leading him toward the pedestol. "Thanks, but I can lead myself," Michael said, and ripped his arm away from Stephen's. When they arrived at the pedestol, Michael was put through more measuring than even his day of enlistment. Finally, he was allowed to sit down, and offered coffee, which he accepted.

After a few minutes of waiting, and listening to the measurements, Stephen came back, along with a few other men, bearing suits of all kinds. "Uh... " But before he was ableto say anything, Madelyne chose a few for him. "Thanks for picking the good colors. I'd hate to be seen in that bright yellow one." The suit bearers left, and Stephen asked when they would be picked up. When the two hour deadline wasn't satisfactory, Philip was about to use gun diplomacy, but Madelyne was able to convince him that two hours would work. Ah, the joys of being rich. As they got up to leave, Michael whispered to Madelyne, "It's guys like him that made us institute 'don't ask don't tell'."


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She smiled at Michael's comment and said, "Well you didn't kill him at least. It shows promise", as they pushed the doors open and exited onto the sidewalk. They walked down the sidewalk to a nearby cafe, and much to Michael's chagrin, Mad chose an outside table. She ordered a salad and water, and asked Michael to order whatever he liked. As she sat there, she did not talk, until she received a pager alert. She looked at it and pulled a cell phone from her pocket. She dialed a number and sat back.

"Yes?" she asked as Michael listened to the one sided conversation. "Yes, I remember the numbers. No. That's unacceptable. I need two of them, and they both need to be manual transmission. Well I don't care about that." She paused as she listened and rubbed her brow to relieve obvious mounting tension. "Look. I made my specifications quite clear. Two, cleaned, MANUAL transmissions, and..." She paused before continung, "Yes. The parking garage North and Main." She listened again and shook her head, "Unacceptable. Tomorrow or deal's off." She hung her cell up, looked at Michael and was about to say something when her cell rang.

She looked at the number, smiled slightly, and answered. "It's done? You're both unharmed? Any problems? I see." She sipped her water, as she listened. "Very well, and job well done. Stand by, make yourselves comfortable, and we'll meet up soon. Thank you. You've done a wonderful job." She hung up, and slid her phone back into her pocket. She smiled at Michael as she forked her salad. "Well Martin, things are beginning to take shape. We'll finish our lunch, and then head to Chicago. How do you feel about driving?"


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"Trust me, it took a lot of will power. I almost feel sorry for the guy," Michael replied, as they headed toward a nearby café. They chose an outside table, much to Michael's dissappointment. "Though the weather is nice now, there's going to be major showers soon. I don't agree with us being outdoors, if you object to getting wet." Madelyne didn't move, so Philip shrugged, and sat down. Being allowed to order whatever he wanted, Philip pondered the menu for a minute, before deciding on a philly cheesesteak sandwich and a lager. "At lunch sir?" The waiter asked. "I always have a lager or two at lunch. It's proven to keep you alive longer." The waiter shrugged, and went to get the orders.

Michael was mulling over possible scenarios that could happen, while in Madelyne's service, including alleyway fights, warehouse battles with main weapon, random purse snatches with only a KA-BAR, everything, until his train of thought was interrupted by a beeping. Turned out, it was Madelyne's pager, and what followed was probably a deal with some dealership over manual transmission cars. Michael was about to ask about this, when Madelyne's cell phone rang.

After that call, Madelyne announced that things were beginning to fall together, and that after lunch they would leave for Chicago. "Well, of course I can drive, but I don't think we can head to Chicago right after lunch, Ms. Albright. We still need to pick up those suits from, what was the guy's name again, Stephen, I think. We still need to pick up those suits from Stephen. And what about the cars? Will somebody pick them up for you?"


Name: Brittany Markowitz

Alias: Chop

Age: 20

Height: 5’7”

Weight: 140 lbs.

Occupation (Cover): Driver (College Student)

Equipment: Hazel Contacts, Black Long Haired Wavy Wig, Plain Leather Jacket, Matching Scuffed up Black Leather Boots,Tool Belt, and a mix of Jean Shorts and Tank-Tops for ‘Jobs’ while she just wears anything that’s ‘In’ when she’s not busy.

Bio: When most people think of Brittany Markowitz, they think of the Home Coming Runner-up, the Second in command on the old high school cheerleading squad, and most recently the second highest ranking sophomore at Alpha Delta at the Ivy College located closest to the city where she ‘worked’ out of. She’s a future trophy wife, waiting to happen, with her sun kissed blonde hair, and crystal clear blue eyes, the only thing stopping her from being number one is the fact she doesn’t want to be. What they never would think of is Chop, a girl you almost instantly think Italian when you see her, and with her incredible skills with cars, you have the upmost respect.

This double life started in the summer before her freshman year of high school, when Brittany had her first boyfriend, Frankie, a real Italian boy, and a real catch seeing he was going to be a sophomore, and he decided to make a bet with Brittany. He would make her high school life a dream come true, with total A-list status, if she could fix the unfixable car in the shop by the time the school year was over, and if she couldn’t he would get whatever teenage boy wanted since the beginning of time. Unaware of her competitive capabilities to be number one, Frankie was not prepared for her to dive into the bet like crazy, constantly stopping by the shop, working a little every day.

Determined to show that she wasn’t just some ‘stupid blonde’ Brittany also took auto shop her first year of high school, and found even without the bet, she was having a lot of fun. Though she would never let it on, only telling people she wanted to have as diverse of a college application as she could, before she realized that she was even lying to herself. Her interest grew into an obsession and soon she was buying books and googling everything she could about cars, even paying more attention to them instead of Frankie when she got the shop. The car was fixed by the time spring break rolled around, and Brittany got her wish of being number one, though it was too late, she was already all about cars. Frankie gave up trying to be with her a year later, and she became the unattainable gorgeous second in command, seeing popularity was now always the last thing on her mind.

Still, when she tried to express her love for cars and their engines to her peers, they just took at a joke and laughed and patted her head like she was a child wanting to be an astronaut; thus Chop was born. Nobody thought Chop was incapable with cars, especially because she held a mysterious air about her since they didn’t know where she was from; just that she was one bad-ass Italian chick that could do anything that she wanted with a car. She could steal one, make one from scratch, fix up an old one, or take apart and self every last screw of a new one, savoring each and every single moment of it. Her success with cars grew, and she didn’t care what kind of job it was, finding the more illegal transactions and jobs were a lot more fun than legal ones. Once she went away to college, she was worried it was the end of Chop, until she was contacted by Madelyn, who had heard of her on the grapevine and ran things in the big city nearby, and Chop was back in business.


Chop hung up the phone with a click and glared at the stupid boy that Madelyn had set her up with to finish the two cars. There wouldn’t have been a problem the man was crying to Madelyn about if he had never show up, and if she had let Chop just do what she did best; Making banging cars by herself at top speeds. Another person, especially a drooling man who clearly had a thing for Italians, only slowed things down immensely, especially if their pride was hurt when a considerably younger girl had already finished her car and now as working on a part of his.

Chop tapped her phone to her forehead just as it buzzed with a text from Stephanie, the numero uno at Alpha Delta, with a picture of the cutest strappy heels from some posh boutique in Miami, and a message asking if she wanted to pick Brittany up a pair while she was there on her weekend visit for the party next week.

‘of course! Omg they are so cute, they’ll go perfect with that vintage dress i got at the mall last week! <3s miss u!’ Brittany texted back letting a bubbly giggle, which awarded her with a weird look from the man, but she only glared his way until he looked down like a wounded animal. It wasn’t hard to keep the ‘bubbly’ out of her life when she was on the job, but it still simmered up sometimes just because it was a piece of what she was. Most would look at her once in each of her lives and just assume that they had found a stereotypical this or that, and if they ever found out she was one and the other, they would just assume she was being fake on one of the different levels.

That just wasn’t the case though, Brittany and Chop were the same person, they may up-play one another during different occasions, but when she was by herself or around her sister (her parents she could admit did not understand) she could be both people with no interference from each side.

Not wanting to think of her sister who she missed terribly though, she focused back on the cars and looked around for anything else she could do with them, not wanting to have to resolve to talking to the creepy man. Both cars were identical BMW 550is, right down to the erased serial number, the heads up dash, the rear view camera, and the dynamic handling control that Chop had found especially exciting to install. The only difference in the cars was that one was a natural black while the other was a normal silver, both chosen specifically so that the cars were as inconspicuous as possible. They were a job well done, and Chop decided she at least had to compliment the old man for getting two thirds of his car done, but when she looked up he was a lot closer then she wanted him to be.

What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a garage honey?” he said, with his cigarette breath blowing down on her face. Brittany waved it away and held her nose and took a step back, but the man pursued, and she whimpered. They were in a secure place so that things could get done, and nobody could get in until one of them flipped the switch that opened the garage doors or Madelyn came with her remote opener, which was only for emergencies.

But it wasn't like she couldn’t take him.

By the time the man enough gall to lean forward with a lunge, Chop slid to the side, and using his momentum of lunging, to push him down, landing with a body-to-body-to-concrete thump. The man was dazed and goaning when she reached down, pulling up with her his arm in an awkward position before saying in a sweet voice laced with venom, "Now listen here mister, Things will not get pretty if you don't do exactly what I say," yanking his arm up just a smidge, careful not breaking it before continuing, "If I get up you've got to promise that you'll get into your car nice and drive it to Madelyn's." She twisted his arm very slowly until he groaned what sounded like a yes a couple times before she removed her self with a grace taught at the sorority for the formals they constantly were having and heading towards the keys.

After throwing him his set and flipping the switch to open the garage doors, Chop loaded herself into the black car and sped off towards MAdelyn's house, knowing that if Mr. Creepy knew what was good for him he would be following her, or other wise would have to face Madelyn's wrath. Brittany got out of the perfectly parked car record time later, pulling out her phone and texting her latest boy toy, Ray, wondering when his hunky self would be available. She clicked her phone shut as the man pulled up exactly parallel to her before they closed the garage door, and very separately made their way into the house.

Chop headed to the kitchen to score some grub, while Mr. Creepy, whose name she figured she would have to find out eventually, wandered off, to where she guessed the bathroom was to check his wounds. While he did that, Brittany pulled out her cell phone, dialing Madelyn's number.

It’s Done?” her boss’s voice sounded over the line.

Sure thing! Everything is just like I promised, though it would have been easier without this D-bag you put me with. We had a bit of a scuffle and he's off licking his wounds somewhere” Chop said in a non joking voice as she pulled out a soda from the fridge. Girls back at Alpha Delta would have passed out if they saw how much sugar she consumed while on these trips when it came to soda.

You’re both unharmed? Any problems?” Madelyn asked, clearly out on a business meeting, not letting her voice go astray to the violence Chop had mentioned.

I’m unharmed, and the only problem was this creep, I took care of him like I said though. Your cars are in perfect shape, in your garage, totally out of sight, along with me and the jerk. I'm actually enjoying a soda at the moment,” Brittany said with enthusiasm, clicking open the soda before taking a lady like sip with a refreshed 'ahh'.

I see” Madelyn started, and then there was a pause when Brittany made a noise that almost sounded like a sorry. Madelyn didn’t lose her cool though and continued as if everything was okay saying, "Very well, and job well done. Stand by, make yourselves comfortable, and we'll meet up soon. Thank you. You've done a wonderful job."

Chop didn’t even have a chance to say anything else before the line went dead, so instead of wondering how much trouble she was in, she sat and turned on MTV.

[{Lmao, definitely out of my confort zone :-D Most odd and possibly worst/best character I ever made!

EDIT: lol I changed alot :-D}]
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She continued to eat her lunch and nodded. "We'll be able to pick those suits up before we leave." She smiled as she addressed Michael with her bright, blue eyes. "Warming up to the aspect of some new clothing perhaps Martin?", she asked teasingly, before laughing mirthfully. "I have to admit having been concerned about my choice of your talents, however, you're proving to be somewhat of a surprise thus far. I do hope you'll keep it up." She sipped her water and continued, "I'd like you to drive the first leg of our all nighter trip we're taking. After lunch, we'll wait until Stephen is done, and then get going." So saying, she checked her watch and continued eating the last few bites of her salad.

She sat back, and folded one leg over the other as she waited for Michael to finish his lunch. She was a hard person to read. She possessed a very strong personality obviously, but had not really revealed anything through her body language for as long as he's known her. Michael had no idea if she was calm like she appeared, or impatient with him for still eating and her being finished. She folded her arms across her chest and regarded Michael thoughtfully. That was the one thing he'd noticed about her. She had an unwavering stare. Generally, people that stared at others fell into two categories; those who were wierdos, and those who were predatory. With Mad, niether really fit. It seemed more, enough self-confidence to be uncaring when people watching, while constantly adjusting some internal perception. It was the most likely description for her attention to people. She continued to observe him eating for a few moments before saying, "I've made arrangements for the cars to be delivered. I don't want to be associated with them. When we get to Chicago tomorrow, we'll meet up with some people, and more will become apparent at that point."

She sat back, and turned her attention to other things.


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Alya weaved through the bar crowd towards the back hallway. The police had arrived, and it was time for her to make her escape. She had done her part of Ms Albright's plan quite easily. Afanas had told her to find a patron to pay for their party, and she simply sat under the table for a few moments, rather than lift anything off of anybody. Then it was just hand the credit card, which she had been given and had been long ago reported stolen, to Afanas in order to get the police rolling. As she entered the hallway, she noted the amateurish break-in by Egor and Lev into the back office. It was for this very reason that she even considered Ms Albright's offer when she was contacted. Afanas was careless now. A 'made man' of the Mafya, in America the land of opportunity, and far from harsher Russian authorities' ever-watching scrutiny.

She glanced into the office as she walked passed, seeing the two men rifling papers. She walked to the exit, twisted around and backed into the crash bar to walk into the dimly lit alleyway. She immediately noticed the police cruiser parked down the way, so simply backed into the shadows just outside the dome of light the flickering bulb behind the bar was providing. She stripped her jeans, long sleeved shirt, and shoes off revealing a dark gray leotard bodysuit underneath. She tucked her hair into the hood, dumped the clothing bundle into a nearby trash bin, and scanned the surrounding buildings and area. She spied the rain pipe she intended on using not far off, and stole off silently towards it. She was mindful of the pavement and the specks of glittering glass that would harm her basically bare feet, while being wary of other objects that might reveal her presence to the police.

She grasped the rain pipe and scaled it gracefully. She'd already spent time in roconnaisance of the alleyway several nights previously, and knew the pipe would hold her weight easily, but more importantly not creak. She reached the third story ledge of an apartment and sat upon the narrow ledge to wait. While sitting there, she looked at her dirty hands and wiped them over her face. She dragged them over the ledge to gather more city grime and repeated the process, dulling the sheen of her exposed hands and face. She remained there for several minutes, before she observed the cruiser start up and pull out of the alleyway. She silently hoped that Ms Albright came through on her promise of the plan. Afanas was comfortable that his past was buried, and that his fake credentials were clean. The whole plan revolved around the police running the credentials Afanas would have to supply if caught. Ms Albright assured her that Afanas's true identity would be flagged under the new persona, but promises and results often were not close cousins in the criminal world. She was lost in that worry, when she saw the back door open hastily. Egor and Lev came racing out, and looked up and down the alleyway.

She heard Egor complain in Russian, "Stupid pig police officers. Afanas is going to be mad when he hears we had no time to find the ledger he wanted." She turned her head sharply towards an unknown third voice that called out in Russian to them both. She could not see the source, as the man had taken pains to conceal himself so well even she'd not noticed him until he'd announced his presence in the form of a challenge to the two. Hedging bets that this was who Ms Albright had promised, she began a speedy and silent descent along the rain pipe towards the alleyway again. Lev and Egor had drawn their pistols and were asking, "Who's there?" in harsh whispers.

Alya landed soundlessly. She ran at the two from behind. When she was close enough, she performed a diving vault onto her hands and sprung off the pavement towards Lev and Egor's backs. She spread her legs apart as she flipped upwards, and slammed against the two men's shoulders and necks. They all toppled forward due to a combination of surprise and the momentum of her weight. As Lev and Egor's faces were slammed against the pavement, Alya tucked and rolled onto her feet, and did a sideways, handless cartwheel scarcely after her feet touched ground. She hoped any bullets fired by those two, if her attack hadn't worked as planned, would sail through empty space rather than her. She landed and heard nothing. She looked over at the two unconscious forms of Lev and Egor, and then back towards the darkness where she had last known the man to be, while hoping he was on her side.
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David Schofield

David simply sat at the desk of the ransacked office, running his hand along his chin as he thought about what they could have possibly been after. He was just a bar-tender, as well as being the assistant manager to the bar. The manager had left town for a week long business meeting with the corprates that ran beer distribution companies, in hopes to somehow secure a cheaper deal than they had now. He ran his had down the front of his suit, feeling the buldge of the beretta in his jackets pocket. He sighed as he gently pulled it from the pocket, and he flipped the Safety switch on, and then off again, and on once more. He shrugged as he stood up, careful in his decision to not disturb Beth as she attended the Bar. It was a job she enjoyed on occasion, but if he were to disturb her, she would make a mistake, they were always like that. He would always practice his speech with her, continuiously get more persuasive until he found where she would break and give in to him, whether it be borrowing $60 dollars, having a ride to work, or simply getting her to drink with him, he found her easy to talk to. But today, was different. She did something he didn't approve of, Police officers aren't necessarilly his best friends.

Deep Auburn eyes flickered above him, a woman held a gun pointed at his face as he laid on the ground, dazed from the careful dodge of a police cruiser that had nearly fishtailed him as he had been fleeing on foot. "Put your hands on your head sir!" The woman yelled, David held a stolen wallet above his head, blocking the view of the bright lights shining on him. "I'm not going to ask you again!" The female cop yelled, the look of a slight rage in her eyes as he tried to make sense of what she was saying. He struggled to get to his knees, and he spat onto the ground, a slight red gob of blood coated the pavement, he simply blinked, and rose to his feet, as soon as he groaned to gain balance, he felt the hard knock of a plastic pistol magazine on the back of his head. Out cold.

The flashback made him blink, he reached for the back of his head as he stood in the doorway, feeling for a bump. There was none. The experience that took place 7 years earlier was just that, an experience. His first time being busted, for stealing a wallet he ended up with 3 months in prison and a concussion, the female cop, a repremand for brutality. David hated cops, and he felt quite sore at Beth for calling them. But she didn't know about the incident, she as a matter of fact, didn't know much about him. David turned to the exit, he felt as though the walls were caving in on him, his heart was beating out of either anger, or simply irritation from his total recollection of the reason he hated cops. He needed air. Still holding the gun in his hand, he clinched the bridge of his nose as he slammed the door with his right arm, pistol in hand, and he walked outside.

David Schofield

David stood at the door, staring right into the eyes of a Russian man with an angry look on his face, his chin was low in a pouted resentment, and his eyes cringed with a mixture of confusion, hatred, and patience, as he looked at David. David simply elevated his right arm with the pistol in his hands, taking in a gentle breath into his nostrils, and he squeazed the trigger of the beretta as it went off point blank into the mans chest. Blood instantly coated his stomach, and the man whelped, bending over to the ground as he still looked up at David, his face turned to a questioning "why?" look. David emotionlessly re-aimed the pistol at the mans back as the man tried to right himself in stepping away. He squeazed the trigger again, a gaping hole erupted in the mans back as he grunted and fell to the ground, David stared at him as he kept moving, and he fired another, and another. The man shook as each bullet hit him, and he stopped moving entirely. David simply stood over him, feeling pale as his held breath strained him. He gasped for air, his eyes twitching as he looked at the dying man whom he had just filled with four bullets. Then he noticed a body move across the alleyway. He quickly spun and aimed the gun, and he saw the little girl, in his sights, as his eyes were wide with fear and confusion, he didn't know what to do.


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Alya jumped as the shots from David's gun rang out. She spun to face his direction, and watched his victim crumple to the pavement. She took tentative steps in the direction of the fallen man, and stopped as David faced her with the gun pointed in her direction. She lifted her empty hands, looking at him in wide-eyed fear, shaking her head no. There was a long pregnant pause, as the man who was shot writhed and gurgled on the pavement. She watched David with intent eyes until the gun dropped out of his shaking hand, and clattered as it landed in the alleyway.

She lowered her hands slowly, and pointed at the man lying in a slowly expanding pool of blood as she slowly began moving in his direction. Noting David was making no move to stop her, she moved faster. She sank to her knees beside him, leaned over him and gently dragged her hands over his crimson soaked shirt. She almost looked as if she were comforting him, until she opened his suit coat. She reached in and pulled out an envelope. She straightened back onto her knees, sparing a quick glance at David, before returning her attention to the envelope.

She was about to open the note when the dying man grabbed her shoulder. She squeaked as he forced her to lean close to his trembling lips. David could see them moving in halting speech, but he could not hear what was said. The man, shook her shoulder once, appearing to demand something of her. She nodded slowly, and straightened as his hand flopped away from her shoulder. She looked at the man's vacant, lifeless eyes for a brief second. She placed her blood stained hands over them and closed them as she looked away from him as she shuddered visibly.

She stood up slowly, and looked at David again. She looked down at the gun in the alleyway, over at the two other men laying unconscious nearby. She looked at David and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, again looking much more mature than she appeared. She moved passed him and grabbed a long sleeved shirt from a discarded bundle of clothing. She looked at him, and shook her head at his standing shock. She quickly scanned the dark ground with a practiced eye and gathered the four ejected shell casings. She began to wipe the exterior of each, before tossing them back onto the pavement. After she finished that task, she walked quickly towards the two men pausing to scoop David's gun up. She released the magazine with a practiced movement, and thumbed the remaining rounds out of it into her other hand. She drew the slide back and similarly caught the released remaining chambered round.

She squatted down next to the two unconscious men and wiped the magazine and gun off with the shirt. She reinserted the magazine, wrapped one of the men's hands around the grip, before pulling it away and tossing it a short distance from them. She grabbed one of their guns and stood. She blinked, and looked at her envelope. She opened it and turned it over. She caught the contents, a set of keys and a note as she turned it over.

She opened the note and frowned. She moved to David and held the note out to him, as a distant siren began wailing and sounding like it was traveling in this direction. She looked in the direction of the siren, and then back at David. She tapped the note and pointed at David. The note simply had a car description, a set of digits that looked like a phone number, and an address printed on it. The area was familiar to David, and not far from here being maybe an hour's drive away. The siren began to get louder as she looked at him and raised her eyebrows.