Jake nervously strolls back toward the meeting spot, hands in his hoodie pockets.
The van pulls up.
"Get in."
The door slides open, and he hops inside.
It speeds off.
"Did anyone follow you?" Samantha asks.
"Not that I could tell."
"Good."
"So… where to now? Back to HQ?"
"You're headed home." She keeps her eyes on the road.
"Home? Isn't that like the last place I should be going right now?"
"I need you to just sit tight until we get more details on that job."
"Sit tight for two days?!"
"Exactly. It won't even be a full two. Just stay put until you get word on the job then give me a call. I'll be back before you know it."
"What, no table full of floor plans? The wall of gadgets?"
"You watch too many movies." She shakes her head.
"This isn't a game, Jake. One mistake could get you killed. And if something happens to you, that's my ass on the line."
She starting to sound like Marcus.
"Don't worry, once we get more information, things will pick up. For now, we keep you out of sight."
The van stops outside Jake's apartment.
"We're here. Take this." She hands him a small phone.
"Call me when you get word. And no matter what, don't leave."
"You got it, boss…" He sighs.
The door slides open and he steps out.
"Oh—and before I forget, I'll be taking that cash. Drug money. Off-limits."
He reluctantly pulls out the cash and tosses it into the van.
"All yours…"
"Pleasure doing business with you. Now go."
He slides the door shut and walks up the steps.
Samantha spots some cash sticking out of his back pocket.
"Figures."
She drives off.
Jake steps into the apartment.
He closes the door softly behind him, then peeks into the living room.
His mother is slumped in a chair, her neck bent awkwardly over the backrest. Crushed powder lies scattered across the table in front of her.
I'm going to get you clean.
Soon, Mom…
He lifts her onto the couch, eases a pillow under her head, and pulls a blanket over her.
She stirs, barely awake.
She whispers. "That's my good boy…"
A tear swells in his eye. He leaves her there and goes upstairs.
His bedroom door swings open. He heads for the bed—then stops.
He lifts his arm and sniffs.
Jesus… Yeah, never going dumpster diving again.
He strips out of his clothes and tosses them in the trash, then makes his way into the bathroom.
Hot water washes off the stench.
Then he hops in bed.
Lying there, Marcus's final words start to surface—
This is something you're going to have to live with for the rest of your life…
…You had me.
Not tonight.
He shuts his eyes and drifts off.
Jake wakes up.
First thing he does is check the phone.
Hm nothing.
He looks over at the clock. 8:06.
He sits up, dangling his feet over the side of the bed.
Haven't spent much time in here lately…
Pizza boxes stack by the door. One slips. He catches it.
Ninja stars fly from his fingers—thud, thud. Two sink into the makeshift target.
Steam floods the bathroom. His voice cracks as he reaches for a high note in front of the mirror.
The pull-up bar creaks under his weight. He hangs from it, forcing his torso up and down. Breath hitching. Again. He doesn't stop.
He finally falls back onto the bed and looks over at the alarm clock.
10:03.
"Are you kidding me? Fuck this!"
"…oh shit!"
He runs to the trash and pulls out his outfit from last night. He grabs the pair of jeans and digs through the back pocket, pulling out a wad of cash.
I do need some new clothes after last night.
I'd only be out for an hour or two…
I'll take my chances—beats doing jack shit.
He pockets the cash, grabs the two burner phones, then heads downstairs.
He heads straight for the front door. As he goes to open it a hand yanks him back.
"Where you rushing off to?"
His mother stands behind him, hand hooked on his sleeve.
"I'm going out." His hand tightens in his hoodie pocket.
She tugs at his arm. He doesn't give.
"Whatcha got in there?"
"It's nothing, I got to go."
She yanks his arm again. It jerks loose—and the money tumbles out.
"And where were you going with this?!" She grabs the money off the floor.
"I was jus—"
"This money could help us, and you were just gonna blow it!" she yells, staggering.
"Mom—I…"
"Selfish. Just like your father," she slurs.
"Leaving me with some baby. I should've never—"
All the sudden her body locks up. She hits the floor.
The cash spills everywhere.
One violent spasm—then she goes still.
"Mom, damn it!" He drops to her side.
He lifts her off the floor and settles her onto the couch, curling her into a fetal position.
Then rests her head in his lap.
"Can't you just lay off this shit for one day?" he whispers, his hand moving slowly over her back.
I shouldn't be the one holding you together…
He sits with her, eventually drifting off himself.
One of the phones start buzzing, snapping him awake.
He looks down at his mom and gently moves her head side to side.
"You still with me?"
She groans.
He gets up, easing a pillow under her head, then heads into the kitchen.
He flips open the phone.
One new message:
Tomorrow. 9 PM.
Container Yard, Bay 12
Pickup. Bring heat.
Heavy job. Could get messy.
Confirm.
Jake grabs the other burner and calls Samantha.
"I just got the message from Tyler. Looks like it's some kind of pickup."
"Sounds promising. We'll talk when I get there, sit tight."
Jake hangs up the phone and heads back into the living room.
He scoops up the cash, glances down at his mom, then heads upstairs.
The phone buzzes.
"I'm out front."
"Coming."
Jake steps out of the apartment and into the van.
The van pulls away.
From the corner, a figure watches.
"Everything good? You seem a little off."
"Yeah everything's fine…"
She studies him for a moment.
"Alright… so what does the message say?"
"Pickup. Bring heat. Heavy job. Could get messy." He reads back the text.
"Knowing the Brotherhood, it's either drugs, girls, or guns."
"Either way, this could be a good chance to bust your little gang—at least get some small fry off the street."
She pauses.
"Though if we wait, we could pull in something bigger…" She glances over, then looks back to the road.
"I don't care about something bigger. You said this ends with Tyler and the gang—and my life goes back to normal."
"You're right. You're right… Anyway, the plan's simple. We send you in, you get eyes on the product, you give the signal, and my people handle the rest."
"And you're able to pull all this off without Marcus knowing?"
"Our team is just Marcus and me. No red tape. When we need bodies, we pull from other departments."
She shrugs. "So yeah—it's easy to set something like this up. He'll notice when he checks the numbers, but by then it'll be too late."
Something in Jake sinks.
"…do you think he'll try to throw me back in jail?"
"He can try, but I've got it set up so you were acting as an operative under my command the whole time. Marcus is stubborn, but he won't pick a legal fight with me."
Jake settles back into his seat. "So what next?"
"Now we wait…"
The next night — 8:43 p.m.
"It's about time, you ready?" She looks back at Jake.
God, I feel like I'm going to puke.
"Yeah… let's just get this over with."
"You shouldn't have to use this, but I don't like the idea of sending in an asset without a little protection."
She hands him the piece Tyler gave him during their last job. The smooth grip rests in his hand, familiar.
"How'd yo— forget it… I won't need it." He holds it out toward her.
"Jake, I know you don't want it, but this could be the only thing keeping you from coming home in a body bag. So just take it."
Jake hesitates, then pockets the handgun.
Samantha nods. "You'll thank me if you have to use it."
I doubt it.
Samantha looks out the window.
"Looks like we have some clouds, but nothing to worry about. Let's run a comms check before we step off."
*Comms check.* She keys the mic.
"Yeah, I hear you." Jake says, covering his earpiece.
She switches to a different radio.
"Alpha team, comms check. Over."
*Read you, Alpha Charlie. Team Lead.* Static hisses over the radio.
"Alright, Jake, same as last time, only difference is I won't have eyes on. So just confirm the cargo, get somewhere safe, and radio back. Sound good?"
"Yeah I got it."
"Once you give the signal, Alpha team's about five minutes out, so just hang tight."
Jake nods, preparing himself.
*Alright boys, operation is a go!* She transmits on all channels before starting up the van.
They pull up just outside the container yard. The van slows just long enough to let Jake out, then takes off.
Jake hops out of the van, scanning the area.
Coast looks clear.
"Can you hear me alright?" Jake says into his sleeve.
*Read you loud and clear.*
He moves deeper into the yard.
The space feels endless—containers stretch out, stacked high in endless rows beneath towering cranes.
Raindrops start to patter against the concrete as Jake steps past a giant painted 3 on the floor.
Should be getting close.
"This isn't going to be a problem, right?" He lifts his sleeve to his mouth, looking up at the sky.
*Doesn't look too bad. Stop worrying. And stop talking to your sleeve before someone sees you!*
"Whatever you say".
He reaches Bay 12. A few men stand by, idle. Cars sit scattered beside a van, overhead lights flooding the bay as the rain falls steadily.
"Yo, Jake's here!" One of them spots him, calling out to the others.
He throws up a hand, eyes sweeping the bay.
Hm Tylers' not here yet?
He checks his watch.
9:03.
"Who you looking for?" Slim whispers behind him.
Jake turns, caught off guard.
"Easy there. You're a capo now. Can't be spooking that easy." He lets out a short laugh.
Thunder cracks overhead.
Slim jolts.
Jake glances at him, smirking. "Just a little thunder."
Slim's smirk fades.
The rain picks up, pouring harder now.
"Anyway… thought we were meeting at nine. Where's Tyler?"
"So that's who you were looking for. Well he's not going to be able to make it tonight."
"Surprised he didn't tell you, you being his good luck charm and all."
"But don't worry, Daddy's here. And I got this covered."
Shit.
Is the op a bust?
*Jak… wha… wa…s tha—* The sound crackles in his ear, distorted.
*Re—pea…t, Ja—e… do y—u cop—y?*
I can't hear a thing. Damn rain came out of nowhere.
"Doesn't look too bad. Stop worrying."
Pfft.
I got to find somewhere I can signal back.
Jake looks around as a van rolls in, two SUVs right behind it.
"Seller's here! Everyone be ready!" Slim shouts over the rain.
The gang gathers around.
There goes my way out.
The vehicles come to a stop, doors swinging open.
A man steps out of the van with a few armed men, shielding his face from the rain as he approaches Slim.
Jake looks for another opening, but he's surrounded.
Shit—what do I do now?
"You got the money?" the man asks, one hand still raised against the rain.
Slim gives a nod. The van doors fly open—rows of duffel bags stuffed with cash.
The man mirrors the gesture. His men swing their doors open, the van filled with heavy-duty crates.
A snap of his fingers—and some lids come off, revealing belt-fed guns, shoulder-fired launchers, crates of grenades.
What the hell does the Brotherhood need with this kind of firepower?
"Looks good. Let's keep it easy. One-for-one—you take our van, we'll take yours."
"Yeah, sure." The seller nods. "Whatever gets us out of this damn rain faster."
They reach for each other's keys as white SUVs rush into the bay, high beams flaring.
Is that them?
The vehicles screech to a stop. Doors swing open. Figures step out.
Thank Go—
As they step out of the bright light, the silhouettes sharpen into men in green and white suits, weapons raised.
Slim and the seller step back as men raise their weapons, aiming at one another.
One man steps out of the vehicle—white suit, green shirt unbuttoned to his chest, reddish hair slicked back with too much gel.
"Calm down, lads. No one has to bleed tonight."
Who the hell are these guys?
"Just hand over the cash and the guns, and we'll be on our way."
"Lot's full tonight," Slim says, not backing down. "Try somewhere else."
"I'm letting y'all walk away with yer lives. Is that not enough? Just put em down and go."
"You're talking a lot for someone standing in the middle of my deal." Slim shifts his stance.
"Al'roight boys, if they want a bloodbath, let's give em a proper show."
Fuck… this is bad.
Back in the van –
"Jake come in! Hello!"
She tries the radio again. Nothing.
"Where the hell did this storm come from!"
She snaps to a different radio.
"Alpha team are you reading me?!"
"Damn it!"
Suddenly, a loud bang slams into the side of the van.
"He made it out!"
Relief slips into her voice as she slides the door open.
"Jak—"
A large man's silhouette fills the doorway, rain pouring down over him.
Marcus steps into the van. "What the hell are you doing here?"
The relief on her face fades and her jaw tightens.
"And where's Jake?! I know you busted him out and I saw you pick him up from his house!"
"I don't have time for this! Comms are shot and Jake's out there without backup. I need to go signal Alpha team now!"
"He's what?!" Marcus snaps.
"You went behind my back to get him out. Now he's alone out there."
Marcus's voice drops.
"I trusted you. When we get back, this is over."
"We can talk about this late—"
Gunfire erupts down at the docks.
They look toward the yard as flashes of gunfire tear through the dark.
"This was supposed to be a standard buy!"
She turns back in her seat and starts the van.
"I need to get Alpha team moving! Close the door!"
Marcus turns his attention back to the gunfire.
"You go. Jake's out there by himself. I'm not waiting for backup."
"It's not safe!" She shouts.
"You should've thought about that before you sent a child in."
He slides open the door and sprints out into the darkness.
Jake's back slams against one of the SUVs.
Where the hell is back up?!
"Take this, you motherfuckers!" Slim yells, firing off his pistol.
Gunfire rips across the yard, rounds hammering cars and cargo containers.
Bodies are dropping on all sides.
Jake pulls his pistol free, his eyes drop to it for a split second.
Not again. Not tonight.
"You two—on me. We're flanking. "Slim grabs two guys next to him.
"Cover us!" he yells to Jake and the three remaining men, then breaks off.
One of the men rises to fire. A bullet snaps his head back and he collapses.
The other two are clearly younger than the rest.
Eyes closed, they fire blindly, hitting nothing but metal.
Their burst ends and they drop back into cover.
"I'm out!"
"Shit me too! What are we going to do?!"
They duck down to the floor, hands clamped over their heads as shots crack overhead.
"I don't wanna die!"
Jake, back against the tire, looks over at them.
These guys are younger than I am…
What the hell are they doing running with people like this?
He looks back down at his pistol.
It's not my job to save them…
Damn it.
Jake flings his arm over the hood and fires without looking.
He yells over the gunfire, pointing toward the lot, "Hey! You two!"
They look to Jake.
"If you're out, go! That SUV—take it and get the hell out of here! I'll cover you!"
They steady their hands and nod.
"Ready?!"
They look to him, breath held.
"Now!"
Jake comes fully out of cover and returns fire.
"FUCK!" he yells, firing blindly into the darkness.
The two reach the SUV, pile in, and take off.
A hand seizes the back of his jacket and rips him down behind the tire.
Jake turns in panic.
"Marcus, what're you—"
"Later. We need to get out of here now!"
"I tried to warn her—Tyler's gone. This whole thing's gone to shit!"
"Forget Tyler. Look around!"
Engines roar as another group of SUVs pulls into the scene.
Marcus peeks up.
"This turned into one hell of a shitshow."
The man in white shouts, "Get the fook outta here, boys—we've got some unwanted company!"
What's left of their men scramble into their SUVs and take off.
Windows down, the new arrivals roar through the yard—gunfire ripping outward at the fleeing vehicles.
Marcus ducks back down and draws his pistol.
"They're here."
The vehicles skid to a halt. Doors fly open.
"Who—"
"Quiet."
Men pour out, weapons raised, closing in from all sides.
Marcus peeks over the hood—barely.
"Damn it. We're boxed in."
They fan out. Two break left, closing fast.
"Looks like I'm out of options." He takes a breath.
Marcus pops up and fires, dropping two of the men in their tracks.
"Listen to me, Jake." Marcus snaps back down. "We don't have much time."
A beam of light slices across the hood.
"Under the car," Marcus says. "Now."
"But—"
"No questions." He grabs Jake and shoves him down, hard.
He shoots back up and fires twice. Another two men go down.
Marcus keeps low, voice tight.
"There's a lot I should've taught you," he whispers. "But some things… you only learn by living through them."
The light sweeps closer. Boots crunch on gravel.
"This," Marcus says quietly, "is just something you're going to have to live with."
Marcus tosses his gun aside, raises his hands, and drops to his knees.
A beam of light rounds the SUV as the men turn the corner.
Squinting into the light, Marcus says, "You might want to hold fire—your boss will probably want a word."
The men haul Marcus toward the center of the bay.
Jake scrambles under the car to see.
Marcus, why?
A man in a dark suit stands at the center, a crimson handkerchief at his breast, cigarette glowing between his fingers.
They move Marcus forward, straining to keep him under control.
They kick his knees in, forcing him to the ground.
"I don't recall inviting the FBI." He takes a puff.
"What gave me away?"
"You've got a habit of showing up wherever things go wrong."
"Didn't think anyone was watching that closely."
"Well if it means anything, I had no idea you'd be here tonight." He exhales smoke.
"No back up though? Now that isn't very FBI like, agent."
"They're tied up at the moment—but they're on their way."
"They'll be wasting their time. We'll be gone and all that's going to be left is a dead fed and some bodies."
"As much as I enjoy a good chat, I have no interest in meeting your friends—so we'll be on our way. Thanks for stopping by."
He waves a hand behind him as he walks away.
One of the men raises his rifle and aims it at the back of Marcus's head.
No—no, no.
Jake looks down, fingers fumbling at his waistband for his pistol—
A gunshot splits the air.
Time slows as he freezes and slowly looks back to the center of the yard.
Marcus's body hits the pavement.
NO!
Jake clamps a hand over his mouth as Marcus's dead eyes stare back at him.
This is something you're going to have to live with for the rest of your life…