A Taste of Everyday -- Chapter 13

Disclaimer: The TV show Dark Angel, all of the characters that appeared on it (Max, Zack, Zane, etc.), and everything else that has to do with the show belong to their respective owners, not to me. No money is being made off of this fic. I only own the original characters (Rena/X5-120, etc.).

I left the apartment building and looked around before walking towards downtown, zipping my leather jacket up as I went along. My first full day in Kansas City had been pretty productive. I’d actually managed to find a job as a secretary in a temp agency. The pay would cover my rent but not other expenses but that’s what robbing a store and stealing stuff was for! Zack can bitch all he wants, but he’s got to do the same damn thing.

Speaking of stealing things, I needed to steal something very important to me. I needed a motorcycle. Hey, I need an appropriate mode of transportation at night! I wouldn’t take the bike with me to work, but for everything else, a motorcycle would be so good. Maybe it’s an X5 thing. I’m willing to bet that Zack’s not the only one of us who has a motorcycle or wants to get one. If I could get one that’s as nice as Zack’s, then that would be awesome. I’ll be honest, I’d steal Zack’s if I had the chance. If I can’t find something that’s on par with that beautiful piece of machinery, then I don’t. I’m sure as heck not going to settle for something that’s either a complete piece of crap and/or has an engine smaller than 600ccs, though. Hey, a girl has to have standards.

I looked around the area. There weren’t too many people around, but it was one-thirty in the morning. I could hear faint sounds in the distance and a moment later, I could place them. Vehicles of various types.  Another moment later and I grinned. There were several cars, but I could also distinctly hear three motorcycle engines within the group. Two of the engines didn’t sound quite as powerful as what I wanted, but the third sounded about 650ccs or so. Perfectly within my range. I heard them stop about five blocks away from me and I could make out car doors opening and shutting and people moving into an alley. I silently moved towards the alley, keeping my eyes and ears open and one hand on my Glock. I reached the alley, ducked behind some garbage cans, and listened and waited for an opportunity to grab the bike to hopefully pop up. If not, I could always look again.

“So, you got the money?” a man’s voice said harshly. I grinned to myself. Drug deal or they’re fencing something.

“Of course we’ve got the money. What do we look, stupid?” another voice replied. “Do you got the heroin?” Yep, drugs. No way I’m touching that stuff.

“What do we look, stupid?” the first voice mocked. “We’ve got the stuff all nice and ready for you. It’s right here in the briefcase.”

“Good,” the second voice said. “Let’s switch.” I could hear the sounds of two things being handed over, most likely briefcases, and then two sets of latches opening. “Oh, yeah, this is the stuff,” the second voice said. I took the opportunity to take a quick peek over the garbage cans. There was the motorcycle standing near the edge of the alley. It would be impossible for me to try to make a grab for it without being noticed. Damn. I guess-- My thoughts were cut off by more talking from the men.

“Boss, there’s only sixty grand in here,” a third voice said. Only sixty grand? This sounds like it’s going to get really entertaining!

“What?!” the first voice yelled. “Let me count that shit myself.” I heard the shuffling noise of money being counted and then one of the briefcases slammed and latched shut. “We agreed on seventy-five grand, not sixty! Did you forget the negotiations that fast?”

“No, we agreed on sixty thousand dollars,” the second voice countered. “You originally wanted seventy-five grand and we talked the price down to sixty. You’re the one who’s forgetting about the negotiations.”

“That is a load of bullshit,” the first voice said. I heard the sound of guns being drawn and I really had to stifle a laugh at that point. Real life is much more entertaining than television sometimes. “Give us the remaining fifteen thousand dollars right now or you can forget about hanging onto that heroin.”

“Too late,” the second voice said. I heard more guns being drawn. This was just too much. “You already handed the heroin over to us. It’s ours. You’re not getting it back and we’re not giving you the remaining cash you think that you deserve.”

“Well, then…” There was the gunfire! I stayed behind the cover of the garbage can and fiddled with the leather gloves that I was wearing. I’d counted about six men total before the shooting started. One went down…two down…three and four…five…oooh, all six went down! My turn to play.

I got up and looked around. Five of the six men were dead and the sixth was unconscious but alive. He’d tripped over the body of one of the other men and had knocked himself out. Sucker! I looked over at the motorcycle that I wanted and checked it out. I grinned. It hadn’t been hit in the shootout and it looked absolutely beautiful. I turned back and grabbed the suitcase with the money.

“Jackpot, baby,” I said to myself as I got on the motorcycle. The keys were still in the ignition and I turned the engine on, carefully wedged the briefcase where it wouldn’t fall off, and headed back to my apartment. I turned the bike off and carried the briefcase and wheeled the bike inside the building and took the elevator up to my floor and then walked to and let myself into my apartment. I leaned the bike against the wall and put the briefcase on the couch and I saw down and opened it up and counted the money that was inside of it.

“Yep, a cool sixty grand,” I confirmed and I shut the briefcase. I got up and I carried the briefcase inside my bedroom and I found the safe that I’d bought that afternoon and re-opened the briefcase and took the money out of it and put it in the safe and shut both the safe and briefcase. I put my nine-millimeter on the bedside table and sat down and smiled. “I think I might actually get my helmet legit. I gotta remember to get a new license plate for the bike.”

I sighed as I felt myself starting to wind down from the excitement. Yeah, it was awesome to have my own motorcycle now, but I would still rather be back in Garland in Brianne’s house and hanging out with my friends and borrowing other people’s bikes when I’d go to the races and just…I shook my head as I stood up to get ready for bed. It wasn’t going to happen. Not again. I had to accept the fact. I wiped a tear from my face as I stepped into the bathroom. I’d accept it, but there was no way that I was going to ever like the fact.

TBC