First word: 48 Hours. Last word: Ashes. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

The warehouse door was kicked open with such a force that one would think the world had just come to an end in less than 48 hours.  For all they knew, it very well just had.

"What the FUCK!"

The girlish voice filled the interior of the decrepit warehouse.  Dust drifted down from the ceiling in response to her cry; swirling in disorganized, chaotic patterns as it tried to fill every bit of fresh air with its grimy particles.  A large shadow was caught in the doorway for a moment, framed in the waning evening daylight- a grotesque, disjointed silhouette.  With a large grunt of effort the crumpled figure shuffled in through the door and the door was closed with an equally angry kick.  Silence enveloped the building before a small 'click' echoed, immediately chased by an electronic buzzing.  Light filled the room, and for the first time since the day had begun, Katniss could finally see the mess that was Toby properly.

"Oh Jesus," she muttered, her eyes blurring and twisting as she tried to focus on the man, her friend.  His pale face, his slack expression, and the red; crimson blood pouring from his stomach, covering his torso and legs, her shirt, her hands, and the smell- caught in her hair and clothes, her nostrils...

Staggering forward slightly she half dragged the man with her, trying to steady her body and keep her mind alert.  Crates.  Wooden crates everywhere.  Not comfortable enough.  An old vehicle, abandoned, rusty.  No, wouldn't work.  Coveralls, for the men.  Plenty of coveralls.  If she piled them together, it would work.  With a huge heave Katniss leaned Toby against a stack of the crates on the wall, their large red stamp of 'FRAGILE' on each and every one matching the shade of his blood almost perfectly.  In a frenzy she dashed toward the far side of the building, her boots slapping against the concrete floor in a haphazard, ungraceful melody.

With every last centimeter of the young girl's wingspan she grabbed a stack of the coveralls into her arms and rushed back toward her fellow Chicago Don.  Tossing the clothing onto the ground unceremoniously and brushing her dark-haired braid back from her face, she couldn't help but feel a quick rush of appreciation for the man who owned the warehouse.  Cpt-Harris thought of everything when it came down to stocking his work quarters.  Almost immediately a crushing sensation filled her chest and burned into her heart.  An overwhelming sensation of emptiness filled every inch of her being.  Harris.  Was he...?

Tears threatening to blind her grey eyes she blinked furiously, shaking her head and turning back to her companion.  Pulling him away from the crates with a soothing click of of her tongue she lowered Toby onto the floor as gently as she could, taking care to ensure he was settled in upon the make-shift bed.  Her chest heaved once more, and without further prompting Katniss turned away from her wounded- perhaps dying?- friend and screamed like she had never screamed before.  The shriek spoke of confusion, of frustration.  Rage.  Mourning.

"We were fucking set up!"  Her voice reverberated through the empty rafters, pounding down on the pair tenfold, angrier than she intended.  She never swore.  This was the second time she'd allowed herself the pleasure since arriving here.

Toby mumbled something under his breath and the teenager paid him no mind.  She narrowed her eyes at the dirt coated windows sitting toward the top of the building, showing a beautiful blue day give way to a ever-darkening, overcast evening.  How apt to reflect the turmoil of the situation; how fittingly it reflected that very day.  Her mouth was dry and she swallowed what little saliva had crept into her mouth while she had stood silently, seething.

"It was planned," she said, her voice croaking but gaining strength.  "There was no way we could have failed.  Did you guys even trip the alarm?  Alert anyone?  No, of course not," she rambled on over her shoulder, barely noting if the man was listening or not.  "And the cops- all of them.  There were too many to just be a normal response team.  Their shooting!  They were shooting to kill!  They knew why we were there, and didn't have to stop to ask questions or figure out the situation, they just knew.  They lit us up like the fourth of July.  They knew.  They had to know."

Turning on her heel she looked down at the crumpled form of Toby and shook her head slowly.  Her heart wrenched painfully as she stood gazing into the face of what could very well be her last ally.

"Someone betrayed us, Tobs.  Someone fucked over the gang."

A loud squelching sound from the door alerted her, every hair on her body standing straight to attention.  She whipped her head quickly with widened eyes.  Looking like he had just been to hell and back- covered in small nicks and bruises and here and there a small splash of that same crimson that soaked most of Toby and herself- WildTurkey slowly walked into the warehouse, closing the door behind him, his eyes never leaving hers.  The corner of his mouth twitched and he held his hands out to the side in what he assumed was a friendly gesture.

"Look Kat, let me say something," he said warily; his face stern but his tone unsure.

Without a moment's hesitation Katniss reached into the back of her trousers, locating her handgun where it was always kept tucked into the waistband.  Striding toward the Godfather with purpose she leveled the gun at her superior's face.  Cocking her head to the side she snarled, her chest heaving with emotion, anger.  Fear.  The tension between them mounted.  The silence became unbearable.

"Was it you?" she finally asked in a dangerously low voice.  He didn't answer.  "WAS IT YOU?" she screamed, gaining a small coughing fit from Toby behind her.

"Katniss," WildTurkey growled in warning, a tone that usually worked when the girl needed to be prodded back onto a more coherent, less unstable course.  It had worked plenty of times in the past.  But now...  "Listen to me," he continued.

"You  don't get to explain a thing.  You answer my question.  Was it you?"  Her body trembled in repulsion and unbridled excitement all at the same time as she pulled the safety off the gun, the delicate metal click ringing in her ear delightfully.  The man hesitated, shaking his head in disbelief, as if he knew she couldn't be reasoned with.

"That was our family," she continued.  "That was our fucking family."  Three times.

"You don't understand, I know what-" WildTurkey began before Katniss pressed the gun square into the middle of his forehead.

"Give me one reason.  Give me a single reason why you deserve to live for fucking over our family, before I shoot you anyway and send home the ashes to your mama."

First word: Ashes. Last word: Politician. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

He could barely hear what was happening around him- ashes?  Family? But Toby could pick out a very familiar sound in the distance, sirens. ‘Are they getting closer?’ He asked himself. ‘No that's impossible we lost them they don't know about this place. It’s just not possible.’

‘How the fuck did it come to this. We had the men, we had the plan, we had a fucking plan. This wasn't some bullshit gas station job, we had a fucking plan.’ Toby's thoughts whirled around inside his head. ‘Was this the end? Is this how I'm gonna go out?’ He tried to lift his head and look around the room, but could barely move. Even keeping his eyes open proved to be a difficult task. ‘Gotta stay awake. Can't close my eyes, gotta stay awake.’

He could feel the tension in the room. ‘How did things go so wrong? Where is everyone else? Did anyone else even make it out of there besides us?’

WildTurkey slowly backed away from Katniss with his hands raised chest high. "Don't do anything stupid Katniss. I didn't do anything, just calm the fuck down." Katniss, keeping up with WildTurkey's retreat, never lowered her gun. "Get that GODDAMN gun OUT OF MY FACE!" Yelled WildTurkey.

Toby knew it was useless. Who could you trust after a fuck up like this? Toby tried to say something, but it was no use; he only coughed up blood.

"I said, put that gun down right now Katniss!" He sounded worried. "Don't do something you'll regret later. Just put it the fuck down and let's talk about this." WildTurkey was now backed up against the wall. He had nowhere else to go.

Katniss only hesitated for a moment. "I'm done talking." Blood splattered the wall, where his head once was. His body, now lifeless, slumped against the wall. Katniss quickly wiped the blood off her face before running back to Toby. She drops to her knees next to Toby, her gun falls to the ground by her side.

“I didn’t know what else to do Tobs. I didn’t have a choice, it had to of been him. It had to have been him…” She lifted up Toby’s shirt to see if there was anything that could be done to help him. “Shit Tobs, you need a hospital.”

Placing his hand on her arm, Toby was only able to manage a smile. He knew it was over for him. Going to a hospital? Yeah, right. He’d rather die than go to jail. Toby laid his head back onto his makeshift bed, now almost completely red, with his blood. The sound of sirens was still echoing in the background. They’re coming this way. He knew it for sure now. How the fuck did this happen? Everything went according to the plan. Everything was perfect: execution, planning, everything. How did it come to this? He just couldn’t understand what went wrong. The room began to grow dim, as the sound of sirens grew louder and louder. All his plans were over, his future, his house, his family, everything. This was going to be the end for him.

Hearing the sirens growing louder, Katniss runs to the door and looks outside. Slamming it shut she hurries back to Toby and kneels down next to him. “We only have a few more minutes before they get here, I’m gonna try and move you.”

“Don’t bother. I’m done. Just go.” Toby knew it was over for him, it was too late to help. It was all over for him now. His vision began going blurry, and the light faded from the room. The last thing he remembered before it went dark was his mother telling him, “You should have been a politician.”

First word: Politician. Last word: Immigrant. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

“I already told you I don't know anything about any bent Politician, you can torture me all you want.”

“Torture you? That's a good idea. I like that.”

The Godfather smiles as two of his henchmen walk up to the naive thug sat opposite him.

“Teach him a lesson, no-one disrespects the Police Academy” exclaims Cpt-Harris, the two men wrench a bag over the thugs head, dragging out of the office, throwing him down the stairwell to the back alley.

Four days earlier it was just usual morning business for Cpt-Harris, he flicks back his sleeve to look at his golden watch glistening in the early morning sun. His paper is late, his secretary has usually delivered it by now, he strolls out of his office to see where she is, her chair is empty, the only person outside is one of his henchmen, the other is outside teaching that thug a lesson. Looking over her messy desk he sees a note on top of a stack of crumpled paper ‘At bank - back in 5’. Cpt-Harris shakes his head and mutters to himself “Denise, if you weren’t so sexy I would have sacked you by now, you’re never at your desk.” Pouring himself a black coffee, he walks back into his office.

Cpt-Harris sits back in his cranberry red leather chair, resting his hand stitched leather shoes up on the desk. He lights up a cigar and looks out of the window, from here he could see the bright red door of the local post office of the suburbs. Watching for a minute he sees a young man walk up to the door, looking left and right before entering. His Godfather instinct meant he kept his eye on the door, sure enough it soon burst open, out ran the young man with bills clenched between his fingers, he turns the corner and runs straight into two of Chicago's finest, looks like hes spending some time in the cells. Cpt-Harris chuckled to himself, remembering his first few weeks on these streets, his dad would have never allowed him to behave like that, he was taught of deception and respect, not blowing your cover and getting caught.

The front door creaks open followed by the sound of high heels in the hallway.

“Denise, is that you? Get in here.”

Denise enters the office, her long blonde hair swaying as she walks towards the Cpt’s desk, a black handbag in her hand and a newspaper under her left arm.

“Sorry I’m late with your morning paper Sir,” her seductive voice grabs his attention “It’s just, I got delayed at the bank. They were having a big delivery or something.” Smiling sweetly she places the paper on the desk asking “What is it you want with me, Sir?”

Cpt-Harris tries to control his thoughts, but staring into her eyes he cannot be mad in any way, her bright blue eyes peek from behind her glasses and seem to melt every man's soul that look into them, then an idea comes into his head.

“A big delivery you say, were there any police there?” Questioned Harris

“Not that I saw Sir, just a big truck outside, no police cars, sorry your paper is late I won’t...”

“Nevermind” interrupts Cpt-Harris, “That is all thank you.”

Picking up the phone he punches SammyGarcini’s number. Waiting impatiently for someone to answer Harris drinks his coffee, which is nearly cold by now.

“Garcini, its Harris, meet me at Toby’s Jazz Club in an hour, I’ve got something I want to discuss, get your boys together and meet me at the bar”

Leaving no time for discussion, he quickly dials WildTurkey, relaying the same message.

“Turkey, its Harris, Toby’s Jazz Club in one hour, get your guys together, we need to talk.”

Placing down the phone Harris picks up his coat and hat and walks out of his office, turning to Denise.

“Denise, ring Toby and the gang, tell them to meet me at the Jazz club in 1 hour, it's important, cancel all my appointments”

Walking out of the door with one of his henchmen by his side, Cpt-Harris looks up at the morning sun before glancing down the street, he sees the young man from before, being hurled into the back of a police car. Turning and walking down the street, he turns to his henchman, “God dam kids, they don’t know how to run these streets, most of them are just immigrants looking for the gangster lifestyle.”

First word: Immigrant. Last word: Benevolent. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

This congregation of run down buildings and paraphernalia filled parks were all that was left for the descendants of hard working immigrants and natives of the land who had been the back bone of manual labour during the industrial revolution.

Now the road and pavements were covered in cracks, stains of various colours and an unusually high amount of shopping carts, many of which had been stripped of their wheels. To people here scavenging was the only job ever spoken of. Food was so scarce not even the rats dared show their face in the streets. This neighbourhood had been forgotten about. The police, the politicians and the paper companies were well paid to live life looking at other parts of the map. No one ever came here any more and the drugs for labour scheme had stopped the last 2 generations aspiring to leave.

In the middle of a run down block of buildings, most of which were covered in various none sentient life, a well preserved structure with no boarded windows or broken roof tiles stood out. The building seemed to have the only connection to electricity in the entire area. 'Toby's Jazz Club' was the sign worthy of hoarding this electrical supply.


It was merely a warning light that this place was not for the people of the area. The door itself was solid steel with no bars or windows of any sort to see through. No unexpected visitors ever came knocking at this door.

The door was a portal. The other side greeted you warmly with a majestic sense of knowledge and authority. The floor a gleaming black and white check pattern. Art, most of which had been acquired via a very intricate and confusing scheme of 'put this blind fold on and lie on the ground while we take this stuff, or you die...' were gracefully hung in archways on either side of a central staircase leading to the second floor. The surrounding walls had long curtains from the ceiling to the floor, none were covering any windows.

Behind the curtain to the left of the staircase fixed in place well; a thick wooden door. Behind this door a marble passage way spiraled down beneath the room leading to another room. It was dimly lit. This room too had very expensive masterpieces places upon the walls only these had never been seen before by the public eye.

Cpt_Harris, the man responsible for keeping the neighbourhood of no interest to anyone stood with his hands behind his back, staring intently at a 1900 year old painting of a Roman publicly flogging a captured run away slave. This was a Godfather who maintained the day job of a man in the force. When he or his corrupt agents would catch a youth in the act, rather than bust them they'd teach them to be better, less clumsy and would turn a blind eye in exchange for a cut of the profit. Occasionally he would get his men to shake down these guys for whatever merchandise they had accumulated whilst conducting official business, these guys never lasted more than a month.

'Ooh, what I wouldn't give to have been a general back then. Not like today, oh no! god damn unions are a plague on our society. Order!'

Cpt_Harris slams his fist into his palm

'That's what we don't have any more. God damn liberals and their protests for better rights..'

'It's those commie bastards if you ask me!' chipped in RedForman.

Though no one would ever dare think it out loud, Forman and Harris would have made a magnificent couple if they were born in a time more liberal than they would ever allow to exist.

Cpt_Harris' right hand, Jace_Herondale pats Red on the shoulder before walking over to a table with an assortment of fine spirits in thick crystal bottles. He pours out two glasses of scotch on ice, walks back to Red and hands him a glass before sipping from his own. Jace had no opinion on the reasons why things weren't different and instead changed the topic beginning a methodical lecture on the pro's and con's of owning this type of luxury brand car compared to this one.

Across the room from where Cpt_Harris was standing sat 3 men. Toby, CEO of the Dunder Mifflin Paper Company, he ran the 'official' stories out to the public. He made it to the top spot of the company with ease, owing to an innate ability to form plots and then miraculously make them happen the way he already had reports saying they had happened. He was well like by the kids in the neighbourhood for being lenient if they tried to snatch some cash out of his pockets. His company mostly ran light-hearted stories and only used controversial issues to distract people while legitimate business dealings happened behind closed doors.

Next to him sat WildTurkey. Not much was known about this man's private life. His corporate empire The Morningwood Elite is the legitimate front of the underground dealings. Running hotels for the V.I.P, casinos, the only stores on the block no one ever took a gun into and of course a brothel or two out in the states that allowed it. His operations washed the money leaving others the time to keep collecting.

Finally on the table sat the youngest of these elder generation gentlemen. Lynch, he was the number two and personal representative of The Asylum's primary caretaker. Their operation peddled pharmaceuticals designed to keep the masses in a revolving helix of depression which would then cause more of them to lose their minds and need permanent caring, which meant more funds from the tax payers and more money made from pushing their drugs. Lynch himself was quoted once as saying 'The only thing the war on drugs ever did for this country was make it easier for us to make money from drugs'

Lying on a sofa, casually, in contrast to the prim and proud disposition of the gentlemen of the room was a woman. This woman looked like she had no place in this establishment, which is the very reason she is so good at her role in the groups organised events. Katniss is the only person who escaped from the neighbourhood this gathering was taking place in. As a youth she learned quickly that niceties do not make the world go round and it was kill or be killed in the streets. At an early age she displayed a split personality of being nonchalant and passive to mercilessly savage. After watching her beat a boy twice her size half to death for attempting to rob a sweet from her, then Don SammyGarcini admired the potential she had and gave her a home and family to grow up in. Since then she has worked her way up to being the unassuming number 1 to the city of Chicago's criminal world... something many of her victims have died being unable to believe.

The door opened up and the occupants of the room turned to watch as the final two members of the group arrived.

A small argument erupted on the other side of this door frame as Keme and the city's Godfather SammyGarcini began a tit for tat 'no you first' - beauty trumps age eventually. A young beautiful woman who has the appearance of a spiritually tranquil being steps through the door with a smile on her face. This however is only the surface, beneath this is a prodigal genius. The mastermind behind the pharmaceutical scam of the asylum. She is the asylum's deputy and the group's key figure in organising shipments of overseas merchandise.

Finally SammyGarcini stepped through the door way and closed the door behind him. The three men at the table and Katniss immediately rise to their feet. Cpt_Harris stops admiring the painting and turns to face the Godfather. Mr Garcini was an old man and looked as if he were four-hundred and twenty, perhaps kept alive only by his love of hating things and people. Sammy had been a handsome man in his younger years but realised he was going bald prematurely. He has ever since worn a wig, which occasionally in the wind ends up tilted to an obvious angle. No one in the room noticed this, or attempted to notice this, or thought twice about the possibility of noticing this. The group focused entirely on their benevolent dictator as he made his way into the middle of the room.

First word: Benevolent. Last word: Hunger. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

“It has come to my attention that the benevolent citizens of Chicago have recently been placed in a position to have some of their financial woes addressed. A large shipment of some sort was seen being delivered to that shiny new bank that we all saw constructed last year. Since the only thing anyone puts in the bank is something valuable, and bigger is better, it seems to me, that we could do a better job of deciding how these resources are used then those stuffed shirts at City Hall who won’t stay bought.”

Pacing in front of the room, Harris finalized the last few organization notes in his head. He may not be the ruling Godfather of the city, but seeing as it was his information and Sammy liked intelligent initiative, he was the man running this show. It hadn’t been hard to assign roles, most of the work had simply been in remembering who had excelled at what while they were still working the streets.

“Pay attention, now, we’ve all got jobs to do and unless you’re listening and not speaking you may miss something important. Seeing as how I like efficiency and security, I’ll be breaking you up into groups with different goals to accomplish. When I call your names come get your assignments, and get to work. The faster we do our jobs and hit the bank, the less safeguards and precautions the guards will have time to put into play.

“Keme, Lynch, you two are first up, get up here.” When the two mobsters were in front of him, he handed them an envelope. “In that is a list of supplies we’ll need. Keme, with your contacts in the business district you should have no trouble finding any legitimate sources at decent prices, and Lynch don’t think I’ve forgotten how you could scrounge anything from who knew where when asked to. Between the two of you, you should be able to get everything we need. There’s some cash out of the city’s communal fund there, but don’t go crazy as you well know where it comes from.

“Katniss, Toby, you’re next. From you two I want intelligence. Entrances, exits, vault dimensions, wall thicknesses, the works. You are to make sure that the building does not prove to be a hindrance in this operation. I don’t care how you do it, just that you do, understand? You two between you have broken into more buildings than the City Fire Marshal has inspected. Use that experience.

“Jace, Red, get over here. From you two I want everything there is to know about the people inside that bank. Tellers, managers, guards, hell even the janitors. If they work there or can be relied upon to be in there, I want to know about them. Can we use them? Do they need to be silenced before we leave? Will they cause problems or do as we say? You were the best at spotting marks, so use those people skills and get me what I want.

“Alright, if I’ve spoken to you, get to work. This job isn’t going to get done if we’re all sitting here jawing away planning. Our rendezvous information is included in the instructions you each received, make sure you memorize them and burn any evidence; none of us want to be visiting Bubba behind bars. Turkey, please stick around and I’ll fill you in on what we’ll be doing”
He watched as the room emptied of occupants until there were only two of them left. Turning to the other mobster, Harris addressed him with a hint of camaraderie in his tone. 

“Well, old friend, we’re back in the game. It’s up to us to get together the munitions we’ll need. No one knows these streets as well as we do so scoring weapons that can’t be traced back to us should be easy. We’d better get going, this take has me salivating over the rewards and I’m hungry to get my hands on it.”

First word: Hunger. Last word: 13 Seconds. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

Sammy waited until everyone else had left the room on their assignments, his hunger suddenly hitting him when his stomach growled. They had already been there for two hours discussing entrance and exit strategies, someone would notice they were missing. There were rats everywhere, he had a couple of his own he needed to take care of. They could wait though, this was more important. He had gone over the plan several times already in his head, running through potential scenarios that may occur and flaws that may appear. Harris took a seat, his gold watch reflecting the sun peering in through a tiny gap in the drawn curtains.

“This is the big one guys, the one we have been waiting for. Should be easy."

Sammy shot Harris a glare.

"Nothing is ever easy Harris, I thought you of all people should know that.”

Harris looked slightly abash as he recalled back to the last time he had said a job was “easy.” He had spent 6 months in incarcerated in Cook County Jail as a young fresh faced 18 year old for a botched car theft. In there he learnt the hard way about respect, never again he thought to himself.

“Right lets wrap this shit up, I need to eat."

Sammy looked over at WildTurkey, he had been awfully quiet throughout the whole meeting, he seemed a little on edge.

“You know what you need to do yes WildTurkey?”

Sammy went through one more time what each of them were doing to ensure there were no fuck ups. He hated fuck ups. Gave other people the impression they could do something and be something they weren’t.

“WildTurkey you are to oversee your guys. Remember we can’t be too closely involved in this, if it goes sour we don’t want this directly linked back to us. Also see if you can’t find us something different to wear for the heist. Speak with an associate you can implicitly trust and get everyone the correct uniform. And then make sure he doesn’t open his mouth, if you know what I mean?”

WildTurkey nodded, before shuffling to the door and exiting. Harris looked back at Sammy, about to say something before Sammy quickly interjected.

“I know what you’re gonna say Harris and I’ll sort it. Lets just say I have a few friends in the City Halls, and a few family members of the rest. I’ll make sure they are nowhere to seen don’t worry. I hear there may be a few house fires happening around the time we plan to do this.”

Sammy paused for a moment and smiled, thinking back to when he had to set his first house on fire. A dealer wasn’t paying his tributes and Sammy knew that was his test. He passed and the dealer could have passed for soot.

“Harris, do me a favour and make sure WildTurkey is alright, he seems a little off right now and I need his full attention. Also keep tabs on your guys, make sure everything runs smoothly. Remember, no fuck ups.”

Harris nodded before departing the room, just leaving Sammy there. He paused for a moment before pulling up his hood and patting his gun just to check it was there. He had run through the times in his head for the heist. 7 minutes 13 seconds. 7 minutes 13 seconds and his life would change. 7 minutes 13 seconds and he could retire... if he wanted to.

First word: 13 Seconds. Last word: Revenge. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

“13 seconds? do you think that will be long enough for everyone to get out of the path or should we set the timers for longer?” Keme asks of Lynch as they set off to gather their supplies. 

Keme and Lynch had been up all night carefully studying the list that Sammy gave them at Toby’s just a day ago. They are both tired and her thoughts spoken aloud with no particular rhyme or reason. 

“Bobby pins, watches, wires, chewing gum, we can get that anywhere.” 

“Keme! Would you keep it down. If we are going to have any chance of success with this, you’re going to need to keep your thoughts in your head.” Lynch admonishes. 

Lynch reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a cigarette and lights it. Taking a long drag his tension begins to subside a little. He turns back to Keme.

“I’m sorry that was a bit harsh. I know neither of us slept last night but we’ve got a lot of work to do today.” 

They are following the Chicago River down Wacker Drive, on the other side of the river they see Union Station. 

“Just a few more blocks.” Lynch says. “I know a guy on Clark Street that will have some of the more...” He pauses. “Unique items we need.” 

Rounding the corner at Harrison Lynch pulls Keme down a side alley before the get to Clark Street. 

“The Federal Building?!?!” Keme squeals delightfully confused.

A devilish smile cracks across Lynch’s face.

“They will have everything we need here.” He says as he gives Keme a wink. “Remember when I was locked up a couple months back for the B&E? My cell mate gave me a guys name here if I ever needed to ‘make a hole in a hurry’. 

Keme stifles a squeal trying to contain her excitement and remain professional. Lynch looking more and more stoic as the slowly make their way behind the building. 

“If this was a setup I’m going to have Paulie find this guys family and give them exactly what they deserve.” Lynch whispers as they approach a tall man in a beige overcoat. 

“Johnson?”

“Lynch?” 

Both men nod. Lynch pokes Keme, who is standing still frightened. She comes back to reality and grabs an envelope. 

“25k just like you said. It’s all there, you can count it first if you would like.”

Johnson cracks the envelope and runs his thumb across the bills. His eyes rolling toward the back of his head as he appears to be concentrating. 

“Feels like it’s right.” Johnson reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. “There’s a truck parked out front, Just in front of the fire hydrant. Everything you asked for is in the back. Climb in and drive off. I never met you, you never met me. Capische?”

Lynch and Keme both nod. 

They take two steps back toward Harrison Street when Keme turns around in haste. BANG! Johnson grabs his chest and slumps to the ground. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Lynch questions.

“No loose ends. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here before the Feds see us and want revenge.”

First word: Revenge. Last word: Fists. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

In a dark room of the Morning Wood elite HQ, Harris and WIldTurkey stood opposite, WildTurkey pulled out his Colt with “Revenge” engraved on the side, Harris pulled out his more modern Smith & Wesson with “Justice” engraved on the barrel.

“We’re gunna need more than this to hold up that bank Harris. Especially with Toby’s shot.”

WildTurkey smiled, “Don’t worry, I know a guy. He’s a lil gone in the head but he can get you anything.”

“Good” said Harris, “I’ll drive, the limousine draws too much attention.”

It was the morning after the night before. The two men still weary from the impromptu meeting at Toby's arrive at a warehouse near the river. Half the buildings are derelict, Harris recognized a few from bootleg pickups and the ones that weren’t falling down were inhabited by Chicago’s homeless. They knock on the door, Harris looks confused as he thought there would definitely be homeless in this building by the looks of it. The door begins to open and the two GodFathers are greeted by a short, scrawny looking man. His hair, what was left of it, was like straw and he appeared to have a twitch in his eye.

“Good morning George,” WildTurkey said with open arms, “This is my friend Harris, we’re here to do a spot of shopping."

“I wish you’d of called ahead, I’ve got the chickens to feed,” George grumbled.

“We can help you later George but first, show us your merchandise.”

George looked up and down the street then swung the large wooden door open; it revealed a room that belonged in a palace not a grotty warehouse. However instead of being decorated by paintings and ornaments it was wall to wall weaponry. Crates covered the rich carpet, each over flowing with assorted weapons, knives, grenades and mines. Even what appeared to be part of an aircraft in the corner.

“Bloody hell George!” Harris gasped, “You could start your own war with this lot.”

“I’ve been to war, I didn’t like it. WildTurkey you know what to do, find what you need then bring me the list and I’ll have it bagged up for you.” WildTurkey nodded to George as he skulked off to feed his chickens.

WildTurkey beckoned Harris closer, “He hasn’t got any chickens. The Great War kind of took his mind but before it did he brought as much of it back to the states as he could. Right let’s start shopping."

Harris immediately ran to the Vickers machine like a small child. WildTurkey frowned at him. Harris then moved to the mortar.

“What dya thinks inside that bank Harris?!” WildTurkey yelled, “If you wanna be the schmuck carrying it then be my guest but let’s be a bit more practical. Now everyone in the team has their own pistol but we’ll need a few larger pieces to show we mean business.”

Harris picks up a Thompson sub-machine gun, “Bit cliché but it will do the job.”

“Now you’re thinking Harris, go and take it to George, tell him we want five but we don’t want them jamming, you know what they’re like.”

Harris walked out of the room to find George, as he returned he saw WildTurkey slip something in his coat pocket and quickly turn around as he heard Harris’ footsteps.

“I was just looking at these old grenades,” WildTurkey said quickly, “I think, you know, just in case.”

“Ok but don’t give one to everyone, they can do more harm than good those things.”

“Understood, we’ll get a few. Also we’ll grab a few shotguns; the Winchester’s reliable and likely to make any bank manager do what you tell him.”

“Is that everything then?” Harris says looking longingly at the heavy machine guns, “I have crowbars and knuckledusters back at HQ.”

“Aye, that’ll do it. George! Oh you're there, didn’t see you sneak up.”

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

The two Godfathers look at him, then each other with confused facial expressions.

“Anyway George, this is all we want,” WildTurkey hands him a list, “Probably safer you bring it to my HQ.”

“Very well, ask no questions, hear no lies. Sure I can’t tempt you with a Vickers, it’s on special offer to-“

“We’ve got what we need,” WildTurkey interrupts as he draws Harris’ arm towards the door, “I’ll see you soon George, payment will be where it always is. Send my love to the chickens.”

Back out on the street the two men pull their collars back and head back to the car. Two of Chicago's finest drive past splashing them. Usually they would be caught and dealt with or the Godfathers would use their own on the payroll to keep an eye on them. But they didnt need the extra attention, especially not here. They brushed themselves off and carried on to their own car. Harris shock his fist at the police in the distance just to vent his frustration.

First word: Fists. Last word: Rags. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

While Katniss sat in a coffee shop across the street, Toby walked the neighborhood casing the place with clenched fists. Something didn’t feel right but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Whilst the Godfathers were discussing things elsewhere, it was time for everyone else to get the groundwork laid. Toby could do nothing more than his part at this point. He would have to scratch that itch later.

Katniss spent the morning watching the employees arrive at the bank and noted their times. The bank manager was the first to arrive. She watched as he went directly to the back, apparently to the vault. The tellers followed shortly after. Two security guards arrived five minutes later. One went to the back while the other remained in the lobby. Twenty minutes later, Katniss wrote down the time the tellers brought their starting funds to the teller windows. She noted how efficient they were. No detail was too small for Katniss. Everything mattered. Katniss folded up her small notepad, paid for her coffee and went out into the street.

Toby had gotten a paper and was sitting at a bus stop watching. He had already gone behind the building and made mental notes. He watched from around the corner as an armored truck pulled up to make a delivery. Toby noted the time and went to a newsstand to get a daily paper. Toby sat at a bus stop and keenly watched as the employees showed up. He noted what they were driving and where they parked. A bus pulled and a sharply dressed woman disembarked. She crossed the street and went inside the bank.

The bank opened for business while Toby and Katniss rendezvoused down the street with Jace and Redforman to catch them up on what they had seen.

“The employees seemed rather relaxed” Katniss said.

“Most of the employees drove here but one pretty lady took the bus.” Toby added.

Jace and Redforman looked at each other at the mention of a pretty lady. “I’ve got dibs on the pretty lady” Redforman said.

“Not if I get there first” Jace said as he hurried across the street. Redforman was right behind him.

They entered the bank simultaneously. For a moment they forgot why they were there. They smiled as they were confronted with two pretty women in the teller booths. Redforman regained his composure first. He checked out where the security guards were positioned. One was in the lobby while the second one was located by the doorway to the back. Presumably, the vault and safe deposit boxes were back there.

Jace went to the teller on the right while Redforman went to the one on the left.

“Well, aren’t you just the prettiest little thing” Redfrorman said as he leaned on the counter. “Now why haven’t I seen you before.”

The teller blushed and replied meekly “Why thank you sir. How may I help you?”

Redforman looked at her ring finger. She was not married. PERFECT! “Well, you can start by telling me what time you get off work? Or do you get a lunch break? Maybe we can get to know each other better over a cup of coffee. You sure are a perfect way to start a day. I’m glad I came here.” Redforman shamelessly said flirting with the woman.

She was completely taken in by the striking man. Still blushing the teller leaned forward and quietly told him “I get a half hour lunch at 1:00. The bank closes at 5 and we are usually done by 5:30.” She stood back up and said “Is there a transaction I can help you with?”

“Why yes, darling I have a few things you can help me with.” Redforman pulled out some bills and said I’d like to make a deposit. I would also like to get a safe deposit box. After we wrap this up you can tell me where you would like to have dinner tonight.”

The teller took his deposit and after filling out the preliminary paperwork the guard took him to the back to his new safe deposit box. He opened it, pretended to put something in it while scouting the room and returned to the teller. “All done” he said flashing her a smile. “Now where are we having dinner ...”

Meanwhile at the next window Jace was in full blown flirt mode. “Hi sexy. I’d sure like to get a piece of you! You look delicious!” he said. Jace’s libido was in full gear.

The teller was slightly caught off guard. While many men had hit on her, no man had been so brash.

“What can I help you with sir?” she replied in an even tone.

Jace scoped out the area behind the counter. He saw where the alarm button was and looked around as if he wasn’t really there for anything but to take her home. He liked that idea, actually. “Surely you want some of this. Anyone would die for a night with the fabulous Jace Herondale. Lets go have a few drinks and I’ll rock your world tonight” Jace said confidently. “I don’t make this offer to everyone but you are one hot lady” he added.

The woman was appalled by Jace. He was so full of himself! Then again, if he was that confident maybe there was something behind it. She pondered the proposal of this strange little man. She always heard good things come in small packages. Maybe, just maybe, it was true.

“How about we talk about that later” she said. “Do you need to make a withdrawal or a deposit?”.

“How about I withdraw you and we run away together” Jace proposed with a blazing smile.

Jace slipped her a withdrawal slip. She picked it up and looked at it. She looked up the account and started putting the withdrawal together. While she was busy, Jace scanned the place. The guard in the lobby was sitting in a chair by the door reading something. The other was chatting with the manager. Neither seemed to believe anything would ever happen. They were very lax.

The teller began counting out the withdrawal. As an afterthought, she flipped the receipt over and wrote her name and phone number on it. She quietly slipped it across the counter to Jace. With a broad grin, Jace looked at it then looked her up and down.

“I’ll be seeing you real soon miss” Jace said with a wink. He collected his cash and strode into the street.

First word: Rags. Last word: Alcohol. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

Keme and Lynch drove the stolen brown ford, a pile of rags sitting in the back and the supplies sitting on top. Made in late 1920’s model unknown it was one of the many cars they made at that time so they wouldn’t get traced easy in the traffic. You never know... stealth was the best option for the gathering at Toby’s Jazz Bar.

"Finally!" says Keme while she was looking into side mirror of the car.  What a treat, now she could even watch how her blonde hair was shining. She pokes Lynch.

"Pull the car over and park on the side of the bar," Keme says.

Where a little parking spot is, it was surrounded by a big fence with barbwire on top of it.  Lynch pulled over and they both stepped out of the car.  Lynch grabbed his bag where his 'tools' were kept.

"We made it honey," Lynch says while winking at Keme.

Walking over to the side door of the bar, they had to walk down a little staircase which was slippery.  Lynch opened up the door for Keme.

"Ladies first," he says with a grin.

Keme stepped inside and Lynch followed. They were in a backroom of the bar and there was an old table were Toby, Jace, Katniss and Red were already sitting.  It was a dark room with some candles and a flickering light, no maintenance was done here for ages.

A dusty room but good for the meeting. Jace was bragging as always with his big head.  Red was taking a puff from his cigar. While Katniss and Toby still were discussing something about whether it was the right time to strike.  Red started playing with his pocketknife; he seemed to be bored.

Lynch said, "Got the gear ladies and gentleman," while waving his little black bag in the air.  He grabbed two glasses from the bar for himself and Keme.

"Want something?"

He was pointing at the bottle of red wine which was at the table. Of course it was in front of Toby which was known for his bad alcohol habit since he owned the joint.

Suddenly another man enters the room from the side door in a black outfit. Seemed like a tuxedo without the bow, and he was wearing a nice hat.  Taking off the hat he walks into the light.

"It’s you Sammy, we are glad you have made it! How did it go with the cops?" Jace said.

"Well," while Sammy cleared his throat a silent moment went throughout the room. Everybody stared at Sammy, waiting to hear what he had to say because this was the big moment everybody was waiting for.  Days of hard work and preparation depended on his answer...

"I got it done guys! Cost me a fuck ton of money but I have the Captain in my back pocket when we want to strike. I just have to give him a time.  You will make that call to the Captain, Red."  He looks at Red and Red nods like he always does, with that blank expression on his face.

Everyone was smiling and cheering in the room now even Red looked happy for a second.  Jace lined up all the glasses and filled them with red wine, trying to divide it all equally.

"Ok so what did you guys find out today?" Sammy says.

"Well we spotted the area for a couple of hours looking for routines," Toby says while he was making marks with his fingers on the blueprint map which Jace got them.

"Nice work heh!? This blueprint is the answer to all our questions," Jace says.

"Where are Harris and WildTurkey?" Sammy asks.

"We don’t have a clue we were expecting them a bit earlier."

The crew continued drinking and were talking over the details while waiting for WildTurkey and Harris to come in.  After an hour of waiting they were still not there.  The crew gets suspicious and nervous.

Meanwhile, Wildturkey was driving like a maniac, while Harris was trying put his seat belt on. He doesn’t like driving without them. Harris getting crankier by the minute. Why did WildTurkey try to rob that liquor store before they went to the meeting?  Briefing was don’t act suspicious, blend in with the crowd and act normal.  Now they almost had the cops on their asses because of his speeding.

"Harris take it easy pal! You know how I drive, you don’t have to put your seat belt on like a little baby," said WildTurkey.

"That’s why I’m putting it on.. your driving style will get us killed! You better get to the bar before the cops get us, we are late already and the traffic is not cooperating either my friend."  He clutches the side door of the car and looks at the backseat where two black bags are sitting. They looked like body bags.

Arriving at the bar they park the car in the parking lot next to a brown ford. Harris lifts both bags while he is walking crouched towards the slippery stairs. WildTurkey, lazy guy, wouldn’t help his friend carry the two heavy bags.

WildTurkey knocks on the door which is closed.  'Supposed to be open,' he thinks.

"I hope they didn’t leave already," Harris sighs while puffing from carrying the heavy bags. WildTurkey slaps Harris in the face.

"Don’t get cranky with me, Harris, you are doing a good job."  WildTurkey laughs softly. "Remember no fuck ups?"

Lynch slides open the valet from the inside which was in the door. 
 

"Get in!" he says with a loud low voice.  "We were waiting for you guys for hours."

"The heist is in two days and we have a lot of planning left to do."

“Jace give me a glass of that fine wine you have there,” Harris puffed.  He could really use the alcohol right now.

First word: Alcohol. Last word: Cargo. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

"I am going to need a lot of alcohol to be alright with this. A van. Seriously? A fucking van?"

Jace Herondale almost choked the words out. It was no secret to the world at large that this young man with the shock of blond hair preferred the luxury of a limousine or the the adrenaline-rush inducing speed of one of his sport cars to almost everything else, other than maybe the company of a couple of very limber young red heads from  The Corktown Cathouse. Which was why he could not believe what he was seeing. A van? The most powerful mobsters in all of the Windy City and all they could get was a damn van?

"Unless you can find a limo that can fit all the guns and can move around without arousing suspicion, this is what we are using, Jace. You better get used to the idea."

Katniss, to whom a limo reeked of an overpowering need to over-compensate for something retorted, just before sliding into the front seat. She had spent the majority of the past day getting the van doctored so as to be untraceable and was not going to take anymore wise cracks about it. If anyone had a problem with it, they should have voiced it two days ago, at the meeting

"Why do you get to drive? Driving around with little Miss 'I can't parallel park' here is almost like calling the cops and going 'Hey, we are hitting this bank today and taking all your money.' She'll probably run some poor shmuck over and the next thing you know, we'll have coppers all around the bank looking for a van."

"Jace, she drives because Harris, Sammy and I said so. One more complaint and I swear to God, I will punch you in the throat."

WildTurkey, who seemed to be more on edge than usual, murmured in a voice very unlike his normal cool, fun loving and and confident self.

"Well, if you have all had your fun and said whatever the fuck you wanted to say, we might be able to get on with the job we are supposed to be doing today."

Boomed the powerful baritone voice of the Capo-di-Tutti-Capi, The Godfather Sammy Garcini. Everybody immediately seemed to realize that firstly, two of the three godfathers present wanted to get a move on and secondly, it was almost time for the heist. Their minds immediately shifted into 'professional' mode. There was no more bickering, no more small talk. Just a sense of purpose and an attention to detail that had served each of them so well in the past. 

The guns were loaded into the back of the van, each gun checked to make sure it was cleaned properly, even though it was almost laughable to think George would have sent them guns that would jam. The box containing the grenades went next. Finally Sammy and Harris sat in the front alongside Katniss while the rest got in quickly and then they were underway.

"So, um.. where do I drop you guys off?"queried Katniss. An unnecessary question considering she already knew the plan word for word. Mainly asked to dissipate the intensity in the van, the question did it's job. The men and woman in the van who had grown silent immediately came back to life. Still in professional mode, just not in a world of their own anymore.

"This should be just right, Katniss. Just behind that dumpster there," Harris replied, shaken out of his reverie.

Katniss managed to park just fine, to the surprise of both Jace and Lynch. They thought she didn't notice but the satisfied smirk on Katniss's face was proof enough that she never missed the sudden widening of eyes when she had actually parked the van without running over a poor pedestrian.

The mobsters exited the car and waited until the normally deserted part of town, just behind the back, became even more so deserted. They heard some distant sirens, the fire brigade not the cops. Evidence that the house fires planned by Godfather Garcini had been set right on schedule. They then proceeded to remove their various weapons. Weapons that they concealed very masterfully in the folds of their trench coats.

Keme and Jace stood by the side,unarmed except for the pistols the both of them carried seemingly nonchalant and uncaring about what was transpiring in front of their eyes. Yet, if one paid close attention to their eyes, one would notice that they were intently observing both ends of the Street for any threat. 

Once all the weapons had been removed and they had all straightened up, Katniss slid back into the drivers seat and started the van. She turned around to look at them all.

"Be careful, all of you. Especially you Sams. Just wait and let Keme and Jace do their part." She remarked to her cousin and Godfather.

"Oi. Just in case, Katniss. If anything goes wrong, we meet back at Harris's warehouse," remarked Toby, almost the first time he had spoken in the entire day. Very much the strong silent type.

"Yes, Toby. I am aware of that. Thanks for your never dying optimism," She retorted coldly. She wasn't mad with him but why? oh why could Toby never just look at the bright side? She then shifted the van into gear and moved forward. Only for the van to clip the dumpster. The guffaws of mirth let out by both Jace and Lynch were evidence enough that she will never live this down. Her mood further dampened, she started to drive toward the rendezvous point.

"Well, we're up."

Said Jace and he strolled over, confident and cool as can be toward the front of the bank, accompanied by Keme. The two of them, upon reaching the front immediately started gesticulating furiously and each other and started arguing in a loud voice and they kept at it even as they entered the bank. Almost every eye in the bank was immediately drawn to the both of them. It was not everyday in this bank that people argued so loudly. 

It was usually just the smooth, calm and ultimately monotonous exchange of money between those who needed it or had too much of it and the bank. Normally, a pigeon flying in would be the most excitement the bank tellers had in their day and so this animated arguments between two very good looking young specimens of the human species immediately grabbed and held their attention.

Jace and Keme, still violently arguing made their way to to the first available teller.

"This man has been stealing all my money! He has committed fraud! I want my money back right now. Right now I tell you!" shrieked Keme in her best impression of 'hysterical upper class wife'.

Before the teller could respond, Keme went on, now focusing  "I trusted you! Completely! I let you use my bank account, my home, everything! and this is how you repay me? By stealing my money and sleeping with my best friend? You bastard," she choked out the words.

Jace, who had initially been taken aback by the acting prowess of his friend and now supposed adversary played the part of 'boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar' to perfection. In a soothing tone he responded "Darling, I did not steal your money. I invested it for you. We had already discussed this. Why do we have to do this here? Come home. We'll talk there." 

"No! I want my money back! NOW!" screamed Keme, so loud that her voice broke and she could taste blood at the back of her throat.

The manager of the bank, a rather dull, middle aged man whose only notable achievement in this world was having risen to the level of manager of a bank, had been observing this conversation from a distance for quite some time and now that Keme seemed to be silenced for a bit, he took this opportunity to possibly revert the bank to the state he liked most-quiet, dull and monotonous. There was a comfort in monotony for him that excitement just didn't seem to provide. 

"Ma'am, Sir. This is not the place for such an argument. Why don't we go over to my office and the lady can have a sit down and possibly calm down before taking this any further?" He inquired tentatively, fully prepared for another barrage of abuse from Keme. 

However, she agreed. All fight seemed to go out of her and he shoulders slumped. "Yes, you are quite right Sir. Why don't we go over to your office?"

She proceeded to walk toward the office and Jace followed, barely hiding a smirk which quite plainly said 'I can't believe we pulled this off so easily'.

While Keme and Jace were arguing their way into the manager's office, Katniss had taken the truck, still fuming about nicking the dumpster. Stupid things. Who used dumpsters anyway? They were just in the way. Jace, Lynch and even sweet Toby seemed to derive an evil, sadistic pleasure from taunting her driving. She drove into the designated alleyway, almost a block away and tried to make herself comfortable as best as she could before lighting a cigarette. She then turned around and looked at the back of the van as she took a drag on her cigarette. It was empty now but soon would be filled with almost priceless cargo both in the form of money and people she cared about.

First word: Cargo. Last word: Violent. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

While the argument unfolded inside the bank Harris, WildTurkey, SammyGarcini, Lynch and Toby stacked up around the back door hidden from view by a few cargo crates from a nearby workshop. Some smoked, smoked more than usual but it kept them focussed and ready to go. No one said a word until the silence was broken by Toby trying to light a cigar. Sammy glared at him, “Really think you’ll have time for that, you really don’t have much faith in RedForman.”

It was at that precise moment that RedForman was beginning his duties inside the bank. He’d slipped in shortly after Keme and Jace and appeared to be a normal customer. He watched the guard in the lobby follow the manager and the arguing couple to the office. The bank lobby was vast, open marble flooring with the tellers’ desk on one side and a few offices on the other. In the middle were a small table and a few chairs. As the manager and two mobsters disappeared into the office RedForman made his way to the staff entrance of the tellers’ desk. The doorway was an old-fashioned Western Saloon door, nothing heavy or locked as no real money was kept behind the desk; it was all moved in and out of the fault. The pretty cashiers were all out of their seats watching the domestic unfold on the other side of the lobby. RedForman quickly took off his long coat covering a bank uniform acquired the previous days. Straightening his name badge he pushed through the doorway. One of the cashiers looked around, he calmly smiled and she went back to watching the action in the lobby. RedForman knew exactly where the keys he wanted were thanks to Jace’s scouting mission, he smiled thinking Jace did actually take his eyes off the women.

Snatching the keys from the hook RedForman walked out as calmly as he walked in, straight past the desks towards the staff toilets in the rear. There was still one guard not distracted, by the fault,  RedForman winked at him and held his stare as he walked his way. Like any man the guard found it too uncomfortable and looked away. This was RedFormans chance; he darted into a side corridor that led to the back door.

Meanwhile Jace and Keme were still impressed with one another’s acting skills. Jace was thinking if this bank job doesn’t work out he’ll be moving back to NY and starting a career on Broadway. However the manager was beginning to get tired of this and tried to hurry the couple to some sort of conclusion.

“Calm down please, now what is your account number?”

Keme’s voice rose again, “Account number?! He don’t show me the bloody account number, he thinks I’m just a woman and I’ll spend all his money on jewellery and clothes. I tell him though I’d rather spend MY money  in the speakeasy coz at least he might end up half attractive at night”.

The manager looked up at the guard who was in the doorway, sighed and put his head in his hands. This was going nowhere.

Meanwhile RedForman had reached the back door, trying to be as quiet as he could with such a large bunch of keys. After many failed attempts to find the right key he eventually turned the lock only to be greeted by SammyGarcini’s barrel in his face. It was quickly lowered.

“Sorry RedForman, could have been a guard. Safety was on if it makes you feel better. Anyway nice work, what’s going on?”

RedForman quickly filled the Godfather in on what was happening inside the bank.

“Ok good good, perfect. Right WildTurkey I’m gunna leave you here in the alley, keep your fucking eyes open. Harris come with me, when we’re inside I want you to find a spot where you can cover the front door, but don’t get seen, yet. I’ll be in the lobby. Lynch, Toby, you know what to do.”

Lynch and Toby knew exactly what to do; it was their job to get the vault open. RedForman had the keys to get into the cage around the safe but that was all. Luckily however it was not their first time cracking a safe.

The group re-entered the bank, RedForman led them back along the corridor. At the doorway at the end he beckoned the guard over, “Quick I need a hand”. The guard hurried towards the doorway, once through Harris emerged from the shadows and wrapped a wire around his neck. There was a short struggle before the guards body went limp and dropped to the floor. Lynch and Toby hurried through to the front of the vault to set up.

“Bloody hell Harris” said RedForman in an angry but hushed tone, “Didn’t think you needed to be so violent”.

First word: Violent. Last word: Truck. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

For such a pretty thing, Keme had quite the violent streak. It was a good thing she was able to curb that streak during this robbery. This was by no means an easy task for her but the plan was to keep the violence to a minimum if at all possible. She had the situation out front well at hand. Keme was directing the employees to the designated area while Jace held a gun on them. Jace couldn’t help but drift his gaze to the hot teller. He even thought about letting her go. With something Jace rarely elicited, he let his better judgment dictate his actions for the sake of the others. He decided against releasing the teller.

Toby and Lynch were in the back working to blow the safe. They had wrapped the dynamite and attached it to the safe. They ran the wire around the corner and Toby attached the ends to the blasting cap detonator. While Lynch covered his ears, Toby pushed down on the plunger. Nothing happened. Something had gone wrong somewhere.

“Fuck Lynch, get it right. We don’t have all fucking day! Lets get this fucker blown and get the hell out of here” Toby yelled.

Lynch took the dynamite off the safe and turned it over in his hand. He looked at it quizzically. Why the hell hadn’t the damn thing gone off? Upon closer inspection, he saw that the wire to the blasting cap had come lose.

“Make sure that plunger is up Toby. I don’t want to blow myself to fucking bits here” Lynch yelled.

Toby ensured the plunger was up and Lynch reattached the wires. He stuck the dynamite back on the safe. Lynch returned to Toby and covered his ears again. This time it worked. The blast blew the safe wide open. The sound resonated in Toby’s ears. They began ringing as the two of them made their way into the safe.
Toby and Lynch made their way into the safe followed closely by Harris, WildTurkey, and Garcini. Their eyes widened with lust and greed at the sight of all the money. A delivery had just been made that morning and they had hit the jackpot!. They all shook open the duffel bags and began stuffing the stacks of cash into it in a mechanically fast fashion. Within minutes they have six duffel bags filled with cash. Not a single dollar was left!

“There must be millions here” Toby excitedly exclaimed! “Lets get the fuck out of here!"

The weight of that amount of cash was enormous! the group Toby and Lynch struggled to heft the straps onto their shoulders and drag the bags to the lobby where Keme and Jace were waiting. Weighted down to the hilt, they made it to the entrance of the lobby.

“Jace, get your ass over here and lend us a hand” Harris yelled. Jace hurried over while Keme waved her gun menacingly just to remind everyone that she was still watching them. Harris tossed a bag towards Jace and headed they towards the lobby. Just as they all made their way into the lobby, police sirens could be heard in the distance.

Panic began to set in. The sirens had surprised them all. They thought they had gotten to the tellers and manager before an alarm could be set off. Where could this have gone wrong? Everyone froze momentarily as it was apparent the sirens were heading their way. Just as they began hurrying towards the front door, three police cars and a truck screeched to a halt out front.

First word: Truck. Last word: Backstab. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

Keme raised her hands in the air as if she was going to hit them both like a truck while in the office. She kept pacing back and forth which gave her the ability to look out and make sure everything was going smoothly. Yet, she noticed something was off outside. The rest were almost done with the vault as she continued to make a scene in the office, but now her eyes were scanning the outside windows as she saw men running around outside in what looked to be them setting up a perimeter.

Turning to look back at the manager she saw his eyes staring at her ass. Keme started to reach down to grab her gun from under her dress, but she caught herself. Now wasn't the time. Seeing the nod that meant it was all done and ready to go. Keme stopped in her tracks and took the papers from the desk, throwing them up in the air, before she walked out of the office.

“You're a waste of time! Both of you!”

She exclaimed, while Jace was chasing after her begging and pleading.

Rolling her eyes, she walked over and fixed her red lipstick before she wrapped her hand around the top of the loaded bag, Keme batted her eyelashes at the rest of the group and winked.

“Let's rock n' roll.”

Starting to make their way out of the building after successfully getting all the money out, Keme was leading the way. Having grown up on these streets, she knew them the best and had already created their course. Yet, as she opened the door to walk out she noticed all the men outside waiting for them. Their guns were all pulled out aiming exactly at the door that they had planned to leave through. Feeling her heart skip a beat or two and her stomach tighten, she dropped her bag.

“What the fuck, Keme?”

She turned around with her eyes wide open. Everyone knew something had just gone deathly wrong. Quickly running around, she tried to look for another exit, but to no avail. Her breathing got heavier and her heartbeat sped up. She could feel a small drop of sweat start to form on the back of her neck.

“There are fucking cops out there! Fucking cops!” She screeched as she paced back and forth trying to figure out what to do.

Wheeling around on her heel she pulled her gun out and went straight for the manager who had now realized what was going on. Knocking him to the floor, she placed her gun into the side of his neck as she breathed hard into his ear.

<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="3">“You have some mighty fine eyes there, deary. I wouldn't want to have to blow your brains out and make it so you could never look at a woman again, now would I? So how about you just tell me when you called the cops?”</font></font>

<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="3">“Keme, time is of the essence and you're wasting it! Stop fucking around with him, we need to get out of here!”</font></font>

Keme growled and stood up. There was only one way out and that was directly in the line of fire of every single man waiting for them outside. Someone gave them up, someone sentenced them to death, someone who knew everything. They had planned everything perfectly, there was no way that the cops knew, she had even paid them off to make sure their asses were covered. She had made calls, threatened their families, and even reminded them of the dirty laundry that she knew about. Keme couldn't figure out how they were here, but all she heard was a slight warning before she saw the nod.

The world around her was moving in slow motion as she made her final decision. Giving a small glance backward she wanted to give the rest of them a chance to make it out.

“I love you guys and I'm going to give them hell.”

Was all that she said before pulling out her gun as she lunged forward in a head on sprint. She threw off her blonde wig that she had been wearing since it held no meaning now to continue to bother trying to disguise herself. The others behind her yelled at her trying to make her turn around, but it was too late. Keme was already on the sidewalk firing on the men before her as she made for a distraction.

Her first shot went straight into the cop in front of her's eye, watching him fall to the ground lifeless she grinned only to then feel hot metal tear through her shoulder. Screaming out, she then aimed at the next cop and nailed him right in the forehead at the same time another bullet went searing through her left calve. Keme could feel her eyes tearing up from the pain as blood was seeping into her white dress. She fired off another shot and hit a cop in his chest.

At this time Keme was now in the middle of the street and the others behind her watched in horror as she gave her life up to try and give them a chance to save their own. She was shot again and this time it went straight through her right lung, gasping, Keme fell to the ground and laid there with her gun still in her hand. She attempted to raise it up, but her strength was fleeting from her body. Aiming at the nearest cop, she fired and hit him in the shin.

Laying there staring at the beautiful blue sky, Keme gave a soft smile. It was a gorgeous day to wear white, but she was now clothed in red. Her lung had filled up with blood which she had been coughing up with each breathe she took. Her eye sight was starting to darken as she lost more and more blood. Taking one last glance at the clouds floating in the air, she dragged her arm up closer to her head. Using every last ounce of strength and sure will power, Keme, pulled her gun up to the side of her head. She had one bullet left and pulled the trigger right as she felt the metal touch her skin.

The gun fell out of her hand instantly as she now laid there lifeless, she didn't plan to die by the hands of the police. If she was going to die, she decided it would be by her own doing. Her brunette hair sprawled out in the puddle of blood that had been created by the hole in her head, but her face held a smile even after all life had escaped her which would never leave you to believe that she back stabbed.  

First word: Backstab. Last word: Fair. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

“Why would anyone backstab us like this,” was all Jace could think.

Jace had watched as the group perfectly executed the plan made by Harris.His imagination had ran wild as he thought about Harris, Garcini and WildTurkey shoving loads of dollars into black duffel bags from the bank’s vault. Now there were cops swarming all over the place!

Harris emerged from the back and tossed a one of the bags full of money to Jace. Jace opened it and saw to his delight tons of  fresh, pressed crisp dollars, Jace took out a couple stacks and smelled them . He loved the intoxicating smell of new money. For an instant, he forgot about the sirens.

Jace paused for a moment and turned to the cute teller. He leaned down to kiss her cheek and whisper “Thank you for the info sweety”. The night with the teller and the info he had gotten had really paid off! Jace dropped the bag at her  feet and headed towards the door.

“It is a GIFT!” Jace said with a final wink.

Keme  started towards the door of the bank as well followed by Toby, Lynch  and Redforman. Jace brought up the rear and watched to make sure no one followed or did anything stupid.

“Put your hands up and drop your weapons!“ the policeman shouted at the group.

Bewilderment and dismay was apparent on their faces as they all concluded that someone had indeed set them up . Someone RATTED on them .  Drop their weapons? Get fucking real! That was not about to happen!

From his location at the back of the pack, Jace could see everything that was happening outside of the bank. Jace watched in horror as Keme ran into the streets with guns blazing. She had not waited to devise a plan! She had sacrificed herself while everyone was attempting for figure out what to do. Had she just waited she might not be laying dead in the streets right now.

“Fuck!” Jace exclaimed.

He turned around and searched for his Godfather Harris. When he got his attention he mouthed the word “cops” and signaled for him to escape. Harris nods his head in acknowledgement . While all this thing is going down, Jace made a mental note that WildTurkey is nowhere to be found.

“Fucking pussy,“ Jace mutters under his breath.

The group gathered to the side to decide what to do. They counted the cops outside. They were pinned down, there was no doubt about it. With WildTurkey conveniently missing, the group was pretty sure they knew who the rat had been. They had a choice. They could hole up inside the bank and make demands or their could shoot their way out. Either way, it was apparent they would not all survive this heist. There was no real debate here. They were going out with guns blazing! Everyone checked their guns and ammunition.

“Lets take as many of these fucking bastards with us!” Redforeman exclaimed.

Jace was thinking of his Godfather. He wanted him to survive. “Lets go out the front and blast them. Harris can escape out the back.” The others looked at him questioningly.

“What about the OTHER Godfathers? What about Garcini?” Toby asked.  

“Garcini can go with Harris . WildTurkey on the other hand can go to hell coz NEWS FLASH guys, I haven’t seen his shadow since we got the money and he has been acting funny since we started preparing this heist. I think we know who our RAT is!” Jace said with fire in his eyes.

“We will do this in pairs, just like how Harris paired us,“ Jace told them, they all nodded in unison and with a nod of his head they simultaneously fired at the policemen closest to the entrance. The police were taken aback; They didn’t expect for the group to resist.

The exchange of shots can be heard resonating throughout the streets. Bullets were flying everywhere. Redforman fired and hit a cop squarely between the eyes while Lynch fired at another. Jace had a feeling they might get out of here alive. He saw from the corner of his eyes Toby running off around the corner, cops on his heels.

“Fuck!” Jace exclaimed.

The others looked  for a way out, RedForman walked towards one of the parked  cars while Lynch and Jace kept the advancing police pinned down as they attempted to advance.

“You join them,“ Jace motioned to Lynch, “I will be the decoy “ he added.

Lynch and company took off with tires squealing up the street. Jace hopped in another car and gunned it. Bullets riddled the car as he was trying to leave. One shattered the drivers side window and just missed Jace. He hit the shattered glass with his elbow and returned fire having no idea if he was hitting anything. Just as Jace was rounding the corner and thought he was clear, a bullet slammed into the rear tire. The car rolled several times. A loud bang could be heard as the gas tank slammed onto the road and blew up. Flames began shooting into the sky. Jace could not escape. The last thing he thought of as his eyes closed for the last time was that teller. There would be no rags to riches story for her to tell. Not now. While the crime had been planned to perfection, the ending was far from a fair reflection of their hard work!  

First word: Fair. Last word: Blinded. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

The noise was fairly incredible. There was no “stop right there,” no “put your hands behind your head,” no “drop the weapon and turn around slowly” there was just noise. It was the kind of noise so loud it doesn’t even startle you. A noise that makes stop and process the fact that such a thing could even exist before you can come back to reality. A noise that makes time slow down and move like a graceful ballet.

“Lynch, Lynch… LYNCH!” Redforman’s voice snapped Lynch back to reality just as he saw Keme fall to the ground soaked in red.

“KEME NO!” Lynch screamed. In an instant he had his gun drawn and was about to burst out guns blazing when Jace grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Look, we don’t need any more pointless sacrifices. Storming out now will only get you killed and I have a feeling enough of us won't be walking away from today as it is. Now Keme gave us a chance, she fucking died for that, let's not let her die in vain. We’ll go out in pairs, give em hell, and try and make it over to the van.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, clicked their safeties off, checked their barrels and prepared for the onslaught. “Dear Lord, may our shots ring true and our blood run deep.” Lynch murmured. A prayer passed down by his ancestors to be said in times of war. Then they were off.

The chaos broke loose like an egg in an omelet, Lynch and Jace began firing shot for shot as Redforman and Toby came out behind them covering their flank. THWAK. Lynch looked down to see blood trickling from a wound on his forearm where a bullet had grazed him. He turned swiftly and delivered a headshot to the officer before taking another bullet in the shin.

“Fuck, we gotta get out of here” He screamed turning to Toby just in time to see an officer raising a gun to his head. “NO” Lynch bellowed tackling the man with time enough for his bullet to bury itself in Toby gut rather than his skull. Blood began to soak through the white shirt in Toby’s suit as he looked down at Lynch in shock. “Go, RUN, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.” Lynch screamed as he began to pummel the cop, before sticking the barrel of his gun deep down his throat and firing.

Redforman wheeled around just in time to off a cop coming for Lynch as he stood up from the bloody mess below him. They exchanged a knowing smile before Red took off around the corner.

Jace was next to Lynch now. They were doing everything they could to keep the police back but it was a losing battle. The amount of blueboys seemed to be endless. With every cop you killed two more took their place. TWACK. “FUCK” Lynch cried out grabbing his shoulder “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.”

Lynch looked at Jace, he knew there was no way both of them could escape alive. “You join them,“ Jace motioned to Lynch, “I will be the decoy “ he added.

“Jace no.” Lynch pleaded.

“I’m a better shot, besides these blue boys couldn’t kill me if they wanted.”

Lynch nodded to Jace, trying to choke back a tear. “I’ll see you soon. I’ll meet you at the warehouse. I… we’ll drink to the death of these pigs”

“Sure, I’ll be right behind you.

Lynch dashed around the corner a few steps before hearing the sounds of gunshots and Jace’s screams filling the air. Shaking his head and gritting his teeth he keept going, catching up to Redforman who had just finished jimmying a car. “Lets go.” Lynch exclaimed.

“Jace?” Redforman said, already knowing the response. Lynch shook his head and Red nodded in understanding. “Oh shit.” Red exclaimed, gesturing behind Lynch to a wall of police who had followed him around the corner.

“Go!” Lynch screamed shoving Redforman into the driver’s seat then wheeling around to face the police. Redforman looked at him for a moment. “Go ASSHOLE.” Lynch repeated shoving a fresh clip into the barrel of his pistol. 

Hearing the screeching of tires behind him Lynch smiled and raised his gun to the onslaught in his foreground “FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING PIG SCUM!” He screamed emptying his 6 rounds one after the other.

Lynch looked down at the empty gun and smiled seeing the few cops he hit fall behind the rest. He dropped the pistol and put a cigarette in his mouth lighting it just as the wall of blue feathered him with holes. Lynch slowly exhaled the smoke then fell to the ground.

The world was closing in now, but Lynch had a smile on his face. He was content, in this moment. Dying seemed to put everything in perspective. He laughed thinking of making a fowl joke to Keme about getting her white dress bloody again knowing it would just peeve her off to no end, and then remembered she was gone. No matter, he would be with her soon enough, he could tease her then. He coughed up blood one last time before gurgling out the final words decided for himself so long ago.

“Through the darkness of future past,

The magician longs to see

Once chants out between two worlds:

Fire, walk with me.”

Then there was nothing, because the world was blind.

First word: Blinded. Last word: Sacrifice. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

First word: Sacrifice. Last word: Father. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

After being told the cops are out front by Jace, Harris nodded in recognition at his long serving right hand man as he knew this could well be the ultimate sacrifice he is making by trying to hold back the cops. Harris then runs back into the vault where Sammy is standing and WildTurkey is still stuffing money into the duffel bags. Sammy passes Harris the ready stashed duffel bags.

“Yo! WildTurkey, cops are fucking out front! The others are trying to hold them off but we haven’t got long, let’s get the hell out of here man!”

“Shit! I’m not leaving empty handed we’ve worked too hard and long on this. Quick, help me fill these up.”

“We haven’t the time! Let’s grab what we’ve got and get the fuck out of here!”

“No! We stay, we fill these up and we walk right out of here just like we fucking planned!”

“Have you not heard anything I’ve just said? The cops are out front we gotta go now! WildTurkey!”

Harris runs over to WildTurkey, dragging him away from the money and picks up one of the stuffed duffel bags.

“C’mon this way” Harris yells.

The two Godfathers exit the vault area and scurry their way through the back of the bank barging their way through the numerous doors and finally head down the stairs that leads to the delivery bay outside.

“What the fuck just happened? How did the cops know?” Turkey asked. “We did everything by the book, I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, but right now we need to scarper, we’ll deal with whoever fucked us over later.”

Harris reaches inside his jacket pocket and withdraws his pistol. He passes the stashed duffel bag full of money to WildTurkey to hold onto. If this was going to get ugly then it was going to be down to Harris to make sure the both of them get out in one piece. WildTurkey was getting on now; his days of being on the front line were well past him.   

“Katniss should be around the corner and a few yards down the street. Stay low and take cover whenever you can. Don’t try and make it there in one go.” Harris instructs.

WildTurkey opens the door slightly making sure the coast is clear and on his command both the men head outside.  They start to make their way around the side of the building when all of a sudden from the distance they see a cop car speeding towards them.

“Turkey, get behind that van!” shouts Harris as he himself takes cover behind a nearby car.

The police car comes to a standstill and the cop gets out. He takes cover behind the driver’s door and starts opening fire on the Godfathers. Harris shoots back, blindly firing round after round at the target shattering the windscreen and bursting the rear right tire of the cop car.  As the officer tries to advance on his position he sharply fires three bullets into his chest immediately sending him falling to the ground.

Thinking the downed officer is dead; Harris comes out from behind the car he was using to take cover and walks over to WildTurkey. As he kneels down beside his fellow Godfather the officer, still alive, reaches for his pistol and fires a single round into Harris’ back.

“Oh shit! No! No, no, no, no, no! Hold on man, just hold on!”  

Harris, laying in the road in a pool of his own blood and slowly dying looks up to WildTurkey.

“Tha..”

“Shh,  don’t speak, you’ll be alright I promise”

“Thank you...” 

Harris’ eyes closed and his breathing became shallower and shallower before eventually there was nothing but to meet his Heavenly Father.

First word: Father. Last word: Childhood. If this is the last post then the last word is: 48 Hours.

His heart wrenched as he watched Keme die in the streets, he often felt like her father more than her friend. Dropping the bag off his right shoulder, and drew his M1911 colt from his shoulder holster, and fires two rounds in the direction of the police. "What the fuck are they doing here!" Following Lynch and Jace into the streets Toby raised his weapon and fired three more rounds towards the police. The slide of his gun locks back. 'Reload,' He could always keep calm in a firefight, he was an experienced gunman. Methodically, Toby releases the magazine and quickly reloads his pistol. As he releases the slide of his gun, he feels a pain in his gut. Dropping to a knee Toby fires 3 rounds towards the cops. “Go, RUN, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” yelled Lynch. Without hesitation he sprints off around the corner of the bank and down the street. As he rounds the corner, a hail of gunfire can be heard behind him.

The sound of gunfire continues to resonate throughout the neighborhood as Toby quickly runs half-way down the block and cuts into an alley between apartment buildings. Clumsily making his way through the alleys, he leaves a trail of blood and red hand prints as he frequently bumps into the walls and stumbles further into a maze of yards and fences.

After reaching a safe distance from the police Toby stops to catch his breath. Leaning against the wall, he slowly places his hands over his stomach where there was now a large red mark bleeding through his shirt. Slowly lifting his shirt Toby cringes in pain, and quickly forgets the idea. His mind now flashes to the rest of the group. ‘What happened to them? Did they get away? I didn’t see anyone after I turned the corner. I had to get out of there. I’m sure they’re fine, I just hope Katniss is still there with the car.’ The sound of gunshots and sirens can still be heard ringing throughout the air. ‘This place isn’t safe, I gotta get back to the safehouse. Katniss better fucking still be there.”

Toby forces himself back to his feet, and almost collapses in pain. Steadying himself against the wall he takes a deep breath and continues out into the alley. ‘Alright, down this street and a left and I’ll be there.’ Toby knew the area well, and could navigate these streets even in the worst of conditions. Forcing himself forward, Toby quickly made his way down the road avoiding eye contact with the other pedestrians. As he turns left at the end of the street, an officer walking the beat spots him and draw his weapon. “FREEZE! Hands up, now!” Toby breaks into a sprint and takes off down the street. “I said freeze!” yelled the officer. The officer quickly raises his radio to his mouth. “Come in HQ, I’m in foot pursuit of a suspect in the bank job. He’s heading down West Pine, send backup now!”

Reaching the entrance to the alley, Toby slows to a stumble. Heaving for breath, he leans up against the side of a building and peaks his head around the corner. ‘Only one officer, I can get rid of him and get the hell out of here.’ Toby steps out from behind cover and raises his weapon. Firing two more rounds he strikes the officer first in the shoulder, then a well placed bullet to the head. The officer’s body collapses into a slump on the ground and makes no further movement. Without a moment’s hesitation Toby turns back into the alley and hurries towards Katniss.

As he reaches the door, he rips it open and jumps in a fast as he can. Before giving her a chance to say anything Toby screams at her, “We gotta get the fuck outta here! Go now! Everything is fucked. Get us to the warehouse!” Once Toby made eye contact with the girl he had known since her childhood, he knew instantly his fear was reflected in her eyes.