Drumming. Fingertips tapping on the steering wheel. The night was alive with an inner flow, a rhythm. The sound of Angel Eyes. He always played it inwardly, jived to it as he awaited the signal. And tonight's backdrop was a still and mild one. The calm night seemed the perfect canvas. Nothing to note was out of place.

No inconspicuous vehicles parked in close proximity. Or any passing by. Nothing that smelt of a tip off to the authorities. Just one parked where he thought it ought to be, with Louis behind the wheel, lost in his pre-job vibe. It got him focused. The energy moving. The mind clear. Just a driver behind the wheel of a slick black '32 Daimler Double-Six. Across from Riggs Jewelers.

The neighbourhood shops were what you might expect. A store to fetch the odds n sods, with the actual signage showing, 'Odds 'n Ends'. Shouldered by a corner store to the right which mostly catered to convenient afternoon shoppers. And to the left, Riggs Jewelers, which had an alleyway between it and an apartment complex further left and away from where Louis was parked.

No activity beyond an alley cat stretching itself, off to the left of Rigg's storefront. Another one saunted out of the darkness and into the dimly lit alleyway entrance. The lamp outside the store held a shine over the sidewalk and the local shop, where most came to get a decent gift for a loved one, or a mistress. Sometimes both at the same time, one for each.

The first feline got to self grooming as the second sat itself close and looked out into the neighbourhood. Louis noticed, but kept on with his state building. He'd once imagined what it would be like to be a cat. Eat. Sleep. Shit. No need to flush. Just crap one out and walk away. Suddenly, they flinched and looked back down the alley.

A third of the local strays pounced out and at the second cat. It was a kitten. With such a peace in the air, it must've felt safe enough for a little playtime. The self groomer went back to whisker licking as the other larger cat entertained the smaller one with some soft swipes. The kitten rolled about freely.

All seemed smooth, just like the ride over. The car was quickly living up to its reputation. @John_Shoaltz had a real pearler. Easy on the fuel by way of a persistent engine output, no matter if it climbed a hill or was rolling down it. Instant classic. Just like the tune on repeat inside Fats' cranium. The acoustics did the job.

Fingers were alternating taps between the steering wheel and front dash. Until something caught Louis' attention. He stopped his four-four drumming and paid sharp attention to the car rolling into the area. He slid himself down a little on the seat and peeked out as best he could without letting on someone was inside the car.

Things suddenly didn't look so perfect, so smooth, so normal. It didn't feel it. Something in the pitt of his stomach was screaming it. Something was wrong. Louis unbuttoned his jacket and kept a keen eye on the other vehicle. Things were starting to heat up..

John cursed as he saw his car sitting across from Riggs. He'd had to improvise since he, Jack, and Frankie hadn't been picked up as per the plan.

"This guy. This is tuh best Chicago 'as?" he muttered under his breath. "Wot fuckin' shite tree did 'e fall from?" The three men shook their head as they pulled by. John took a deep breath to steel his anger. Anger bred mistakes, and there was no time or place for that tonight. A little hostility however? That might be okay...

The car pulled into the alleyway between Riggs and the apartments. "Okay, ya lads stay 'ere an' get tuh stuff ready to 'it tuh store... We got'a be in an' out in t'ree minutes. Na a second longer. Be ready. I'm gonna go 'ave a chat wit' our fuckin' clarty driver."

Jack and Frankie nodded and John stepped out of the car pulling his hat low and his coat tight. He made his way over to the car carefully in case Del Rossi was armed and worried about trouble. "'Ey ya fucker," he started as he neared. "Ya been supposed to pick us up! We waited fifteen minutes for ya at tuh go'damned rendezvous! Did ya jus' fuckin' forget? Or can' ya na fuckin' read?" John glared angrily in the window before looking down the street. Traffic... One car approached slowly and John stood straight before patting the car as they passed. "Was a great night sein' ya, lad! We shou-" The car passed and John cut off, leaning back in to the car. "Jus' be 'ere an' be ready... Fuck that ot'er car. We're gonna 'it this shite 'ole an' need to be gone quick." John was hot. They'd wasted fifteen minutes waiting, and then another ten trying to steal the vehicle they'd drove in with. He gave Louis a rotten, hard stare before he spun. "Sit 'ere an' don' fuckin' move," he called quietly over his shoulder.

John crossed back over the street, though he was certain he might have fucked up in cursing their getaway driver, scolding him as he had. Maybe it was too much? Hopefully he'd still be there when they got out, otherwise they'd be in more trouble. Jack and Frankie pulled their hat's low and handed John a bag.

"He gonna be more trouble, boss?" Jack asked, and Frankie looked up as if asking the same thing. "I fuckin' 'ope na lads. Le's jus' get this done. Fuck tuh ot'er joints tonight. We wasted too much time. Le's jus' 'it Riggs an' get tuh jewels an' money. Na forget, tuh lock boxes an' tuh safe in tuh back. Jack, ya on tuh safe... Go' tuh dynamite? One stick... Aye?"

Jack nodded and showed it from his back. "Okay then boys... Le's go!" The men ran around the front and Frankie set to work on the door quickly, picking the lock. In moments the trio was inside. Glass could quickly be heard smashing inside as John and Frankie took after the jewelry cases. Not long after that, a loud concussion shattered all the glass in the building as the stick of dynamite exploded. The building smoked and lights began flipping on all around the apartment complex.

One minute, thirty seconds. Half of the time gone already.

Jack called to John that the safe hadn't busted it's hinges. "Are ya fuckin' kiddin' me?!" John yelled back before making his way to the back room. He kicked the hinges a few times and the screws busted loose. "Ta tuh Queen..." he grumbled before tugging thousands of dollars from the safe and into his bag.

Frankie yelled from the other room, "Boss, two minutes, thirty seconds!"

John retorted, "Wrap it up boys, grab wot ya want an' le's go!"

The three quickly finished up and hustled out of the joint, exactly three minutes upon entry...

And there it was. The something. A feeling of uneasiness. A sickening kick to the gut. It felt worse before John went off on his rant. And then it just began to boil into something else entirely. Louis swore he felt spit hit his face to add to the Englishman's word spray. Or maybe it was just the feeling of sweat. Uncomfortable shame making its appearance upon his forehead. Hello boys, how ya's been since central park?

New York was turning into one hell of an experience. More blood fuming than you could put out with a fire hose. And all before the job had even kicked off. As a car passed them both and John left Fats his merry greeting and pleasantly updated instructions, Louis clicked. He was in a sound mood before all this. Had his eye in. His energy right. His mind clear. Focused, at ease. Now he was all in his head. And for all the wrong reasons.

He did fuck up. Yeah, you did fruck up. He should've read the material closer. Yeah, you should've been more careful with the planning. He wasn't himself since, since... Yeah, Detroit was a shit storm. You useless piece of shit. Where were you then? And where were you now? And the past week? Not where you should've been. Getting drunk like a fuckin' loser. Raggy would be proud. Fuckin' it all away, just like before. A fuckin' loser. That's all you'll ever be. They were right.

No more drumming. His hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. His eyes focused on nothing in particular, gazing off into no man's land dead ahead as he sunk deeper and deeper into a state of devlish ticked the fuck off. Letting past hurts mix with present mistakes. His usual rigorous planning and care factor for the job at hand never made it into the bags he packed back in Chicago. He was right. John was right, Chicago had better.

Lights from the apartment complex began flicking on. One, then two. Three and four. Louis missed the sound of glass shattering, but the sight was enough to bring him back. He was livid, and hadn't said a word to John since they rolled up in whatever the fuck it was that had its ass poking out of the alleyway. Words weren't the answer. He needed to unleash some of his frustrations. Overdue to be dealt with in any healthy way. Only one thing for it. Two minutes forty-five seconds...

Del Rossi's left eye twitched as he tightly gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and kicked over the engine with his right. As the British import came to a dignified rumble, down went his left brown boot. Hard. He didn't care that one of the three cats that scattered when the stolen vehicle rolled in was underneath. He didn't know. He was too caught up in his bullshit.

The car quickened as Louis manouvered her out into the road from the parked position and made an attempt to sling her around into a hook turn. The idea was to fling it one-eighty and have the back passenger door and his driver side lined up parallel with the shop front. He had failed to get down the seven trips he usually took, everyday for seven days leading up to the job. He didn't have the feel for what she could, or couldn't do. His head wasn't in it. His usual precision also didn't make it into his weekend bag with his toothbrush and petroleum jelly.

The slick black people mover failed to slide around the full one-eighty degrees needed. Instead, it made it ninety degrees. The bottom of the front lip cracked as the car bounced on an uneven bit of road that joined the sidewalk at the mouth of the alleyway. All before it smashed into the ass end of the other car the lads had improvised their way over in.

More lights flicked on and windows began popping open from the alley side and front of the apartment complex. One head in particular poked itself out on the third floor. Louis wished he could beat his anger into it. But all he could do was grind his teeth and shove the gearstick into reverse. He punched down on the accelerator even harder and spun the steering wheel. The car bounced back over the uneven surface and cracked the back bumper-bar, which left the right end hanging down low and dragging underneath.

If looks could kill, the cat he saw bolt away from the area and down the road would've copped a headshot. Louis shoved the gear into first and rolled the car forward, stopping it outside the front of Riggs', the way he initially intended to. Three minutes. Three goddamn mother fuckin' minutes. Louis' eyes bulged as he readied his hand on the gear shifter. He should've dealt with all of this back in Chicago. His reputation was at risk, hanging on by a loose thread. Just like the back end of the getaway car.

Hearing the crash as they ran outside, John looked to his right and threw his hands in the air with an audible, "Wot tuh fuck!?" The three hustled over to the car anyway... At least it still ran, and it would still be faster than footin' it. They loaded their bags in the bag, Frankie and Jack jumping in the back seat as John, awkwardly now that it wasn't as smooth as it should be, slid over the front and hopped into the passenger's seat.

He looked at Louis with a raging anger inside, but his voice remained calm as ice.

"I don' know wot tuh fuck ya think you're doin' lad. But if ya don' get your 'ead outta woteva moment you're in an' drive? You're gonna find your 'ead in this moment."

If you don't get your head out of whatever moment it's in, you'll find it in this one... Was that a threat? Probably... Delivered calm as could be for the situation.

"Now fuckin' DRIVE GO'DAMMIT! Before tuh uniforms make their way 'ere!"

Louis was obviously angry, probably both at himself AND John. The tense air about everything and the car itself being damaged didn't make anything better. He took off and drove regardless, pushing down hard on the gas as the vehicle leapt to life regardless of her dings and bruises. The rear bumper scrapped, bounced, and drug on the road sending a tail of sparks and an unfortunate breadcrumb path of gashes along the way.

John looked behind himself with a groan, he could see the trail as clear as day... This wouldn't do.

"We're gonna 'ave to find anot'er car an' quick. We still got tuh jump on tuh cops, but they won' take long." He looked at Louis, "I expected bet'er from ya, Rossi..." The words came out with a growl. "Maybe ya can make it right an' find anot'er ca-" John turned and saw a line of traffic in front of them. "Fuck... Well, at leas' there's more cars..." He looked back to Rossi to see what the driver intended to do with the current situation and how to rectify it.

It was an unfortunate mess. The once sleek automobile making a racket the likes a prison term would be able to follow and catch up with, if they kept at it in the same manner. Sparks and loud scrapes from the back bumper. Front headlights out. What the fuck was Louis thinking? Or was he even there upstairs at all? Knock knock. The bumper bounced about some more as the car went up and began ascending down a hill. At the bottom Louis could see the cars John was pressing on about.

Louis kept quiet. He usually let his precision driving be his mouth piece. Sadly, he was coughing up phlegmy bits of debris. This sure as fuck wouldn't do. The car rolled down toward the crossroad ahead. Two cars were stopped at a red light just at the bottom of the hill. Louis pulled theirs up just behind it, slipped the gear into park and hot stepped out of the vehicle, engine still running. A clenched fist.. Two clenched fists and a rage approached the car in front.

Just as the lights turned green, Louis popped open the driver's door and grabbed the man behind the wheel by the hair and jacket collar, dragging him out and tossing him to the side. The car in front must've noticed. The driver's door opened and out popped a left leg. A head took a peek before the concerned citizen fully exited and called out. "Hey, what's this all about?"

The driver of the car Louis was now seated in threw himself into action, attacking Louis as he pounced in through the open door. "Fuck you, you prick! Get the fuck out of my car!" The women next to Fats had also been slapping up a storm. "Hey! No you don't! No! NO! Get out!" It may have been why this ballsy civilian didn't take kindly to his momentary removal. Louis held up his right arm, catching most of the onslaught from the fiesty red head on the forearm and shoulder as he did the same with his left to her partner. One nice swipe finally got through. Her nails scratched Louis on the eyeball, causing it to immediately shut. Initially, he winched.

The pain shot through him. He'd experienced similar, but never to his eye. A kick to the groin, sure. With his right eye firmly closed, he started to fight back. As the driver of the car in front approached the action packed vehicle, still thinking if he should help or what the fuck he should do, another middle aged man hopped out of the passenger side of that same car.

Louis focused his attention on the problem to his left, the one who's seat he was in. Fats gripped the front of his nicely fitted suit jacket and forced them both back into the street. All the while John, Jack and Frankie had their own issues to deal with.

John could see it the moment Fats put the car in park. -Fuck...- was the only thought that went through his mind. As Fats approached the other vehicle, John hopped out of their car and opened Frankie's door. Jack hopped out of the other side. "Grab all tuh crap, an' I mean EVERY FUCKING thing; tuh bags, tuh money, tuh guns, tuh dynamite, me clo'es. Get it out an' be ready. I'm gonna 'elp our driver. I'll beat 'is ass lat'r for this shite."

Jack and Frankie got to hurriedly dragging all of the stuff out of the car and moving it to the sidewalk. "Frankie, be careful with that box..." Jack cautioned, the men both grabbing a crate and moving it slowly; glass jars full of liquid. It was supposed to be for a drop tonight that got canceled due to -someone- messing up the original plans.

In the mean time, John made his way over to the car in front of them. He made his way over to the screaming female about the time Louis pushed the other man back out into the street, starting the scuffle. John propped open the woman's door, which caught her attention. She'd previously been glued to her...date? Maybe, husband or boyfriend? Regardless it mattered not. Her stare now was lingering over John. It actually took her a moment to return to screaming as she was caught off guard by the initial charm. "Pardon me, lass... But we're gonna be takin' this car. I suggest ya get out now." There it was... She started her screaming again, this time flailing at an increasingly more irritable John. He grumbled and slammed the door in her face and looked up.

The driver of the second vehicle approached and aimed his flying fists at Louis, but that wasn't currently John's problem. A middle-aged man had also stepped out of the car in front and was rushing at John to help the 'damsel in distress'. John had turned his back, and by the time he noticed the shuffle of feet it was too late. He was clocked in the back of the head by the 'White Knight'... Which only tempted the demon inside once he regained footing. John spun like a wolf ready to attack and grabbed the man's head, slamming it into the car window next to the poor woman still inside. The glass cracked, the man's head cracked, blood splattered and oozed, and the man fell limp. His breathing was normal, but he was out cold. John opened the door a second time and growled low at the girl, now even more angry than he'd been all night. "Get...tuh...fuck...OUT!"

She took no extra prompting and slid out, running up the sidewalk from the direction they had come. It had become a spectacle at this point as people slowed down and started watching the mess. John looked over to see Louis handling the two men quite well, but this needed to end. He ran around the front of the car and charged the driver of the other vehicle, gripping him by his jacket, and spun to throw him away. The man lifted off the ground slightly at the force of the spin, and he hit the ground in a dive and rolled, moderately dazed and dizzy as he finally stopped.

Louis, and the driver of the vehicle that they were now going to take, were all that was left. John pulled his gun and the tell-tale click of the hammer pulling back made Louis and the other man both freeze, eyes darting toward the sound. The gun stared directly at the stranger's face, an angry John glaring through the irons directly at him.

"Ya broad be gone. Ya might should chase afta 'er. But this scuff be over. We're takin' your car, or your life... Which is it?" John gave him a moment to ponder it over before adding. "You'll get tuh car back. Or at least equal to it in value. I can promise that."

"How, you don't even know my name?!"

"I'll figure that out. Don' ya worry your thick arsed 'ead about it. Now scram, capisce?" John stood there as he finally made his decision and turned, high-tailing it out of the area.

"LOAD TUH CAR BOYS!" John yelled to Frankie and Jack, who quickly hopped to it. John's gun slowly rotated until it faced Louis.

His voice remained very low. "Get in the car, an' for Chris'sakes, drive it like ya stole it." John grinned at the man, pulling the gun back, aiming skyward, and releasing the hammer before he holstered it. "But if ya fuckin' wreck this one..." John tapered off and shook his thought. "As is, ya owe me a car." The man gave Louis a -this is your last fucking chance, don't blow it kid- look before turning his back. Sirens closed in from a distance but John casually walked to the car, calling over his shoulder. "Wot's it gonna be, boy. Are ya gonna impress me an' keep us out'a tuh pen? If na, you'll na'er drive in New York again..." He wiped the blood from the window and then slid in the passenger seat, kicking the other man before he shut his door and waited on Louis, Jack, and Frankie to get in the car and be ready.

Louis was pumped. Adrenaline streaming through his nervous system. His heart beating fierce and out of control like a man slapping around his wife. Aggressive. Animalistic. He fuckin' loved it. As John let off the gunshot, it did something. Sometimes the weirdest shit would set it off. Like a sunset over Chicago on The Chicago Eye, or the first glimpse of a car he was set to boost. It was the magic, that silent sound of the soul peeking through the cracks. Like a Rose sprouting from concrete. Some hectically challenging shite just got him right inside.

John's smirk was the kicker. It seemed he was enjoying this as much as Louis enjoyed driving. And it had been too long since he had really felt that alive behind the wheel. His 'drive it like you stole it' words were what did it though. Really kicked his ass into gear. Or his heart. The best times he'd had in life were exactly those. Plucking a sexy beast and taking her for the ride of their lives. Nothing else mattered in those moments. Just the sweet tatse of freedom, oozing out with every gear shift, with every blur as the world disappeared around them.

He was back. Fats popped his collar and walked with an intense focus. He moved toward the driver side as Jack and Frankie also did as was instructed. They began moving the precious cargo to the boot, which Fats helped to open before sliding into the drivers seat. Sirens kept on wailing throughout the neighbourhood. The sound got nearer and nearer with every passing moment. Louis waited for the two outside to close the boot and get themselves into the newly acquired getaway car, before he shut his own door.

People had stopped but were clear of the immediate area due to John's crowd disperser. Some civilian cars were parked behind, and there was the now present threat of the once distant sounds of sirens. They lit up the area as they finally skidded upon the scene. Two police cars in front of the intersection ahead and one behind, which now had two uniforms outside and behind it for cover with guns drawn. Louis smirked as he gripped the steering wheel.

He gave a look over at John. A solid gaze. The kind you gave in a moment of readiness. Or before you did something bat shit crazy. Like a silent see ya. Thanks for the memories, and maybe I'll see you on the other side. That was the moment. When Louis gave in to his instinct and kicked his shit to the curb. He pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator and then turned to look out and through the front windscreen. Showtime.

The car got moving. And Louis got ballsy. He guided the car around the one in front by hopping it up onto the right sidewalk. A sharp right followed and down the intersecting street they barreled, avoiding the police cars that were blocking the intersection and other cars that were parked in the street due to the commotion. They kept gaining speed as the police cruisers tried getting themselves moving again. Second gear. Distance between them and what lay behind kept getting bigger due to the inability of those tailing to quickly manouver through the cluster of vehicles.

Louis gave a quick look into the rear vision mirror before kicking the Ford into the next gear. He noticed Jack and Frankie were keeping close tabs on what was or now wasn't behind them. To keep things in their favour, Louis took the next immediate right, dropping down a gear to make the wide turn. He gave her some hell again as they shot through the residential zone before doing the same thing, yet this time dropping down into first and slowly forcing the car right and into an alleyway. It was the same one between the jewlery store and the apartment complex, just a good few blocks away.

Maybe he was a little nutty. And the thought did cross his mind as the car slowly gained a bit of speed. They were practically going back in the same direction they'd come. To the very scene of the crime. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he would've been better off continuing to put space between them and the trouble. But sometimes the risk was worth the reward. And even trouble spots had their usefulness.

The car slowly edged further and further down the alleyway. At a pace faster than you'd want to drive down one, yet not like they'd just stolen the wheels passing through it. Until it crawled to the opening leading onto the road opposite Riggs. With the headlights off, Louis threw caution into the wind and took her out into the street. He pulled the car up and parked it on the left, opposite the apartment complex which was fully lit up. Lights on in most all windows. Neighbours outside conversing with one another, including a pair of policemen who were on scene. Two police cars were parked out front with the occupants likely inside surveying the business that had been hit, as they weren't in view.

Louis took a good look through the open right side window, and beyond John. Until he noticed his passenger motion for them to keep moving. Fats got the Ford slowly rolling again. They headed in the opposite direction compared to their first cluster fuck of a getaway. This time in a car not half bad, beyond the breezy window. Still, an improvement none the less.

After the reward began outweighing the risk, the car being well away from any trouble and the guys were what looked to be in the clear, Louis finally opened his ambitious and unremorseful gob..

"So, we still hitting the next spot or what."

John smiled, almost like a child, as Fats drove magnificently this time... He still wasn't certain of the man and possibly his mental state, but he was sure he COULD drive; even if it wasn't all the time. They took a right into the alleyway and John's lips changed from the smile they wore to a bit of a frown as he chuckled. "Why...?" he mouthed and shook his head as they returned to where they had just come... At least the car was in a much better shape this time.

He waved them on after they surveyed the work for a moment and Fats continued down the road. His question remained unanswered for a moment as John thought, his tongue pressing against the inside of his bottom lip. Frankie spoke up first, "Boss?"

John held up his hand, he wanted quiet while he thought. Jack already knew the way John worked and was preparing extra clips for their weapons. After all, he'd served in France under the man. Frankie was the new boy in the group. Loyal to a fault, but sometimes didn't know when to shut his mouth.

Fat's could see the look on John's face and didn't have to ask. It was obvious he was mulling over the options. "Na..." he finally spoke. "Na, we waint make it in time for tuh second spot..." He trailed, his hand moving out of the window to feel the whipping breeze created by the car's movements.

"Na, we're gonna 'it tuh t'ird spot. Fuck tuh second." His eyes were on fire as he turned to look between the three other men in the car. "We're gonna 'it tuh bank..." John's smile flooded the car, and Frankie whooped, followed by Jack. John looked at Fats. "Ya in, or na? We need a good driver, an' I pray ya don' fuck this one up an' ya keep woteva fire ya go' burnin' now goin. THIS be tuh drivin' I been expectin'."

Louis kept his eyes on the road. He noticed the way it kind of got eaten up by the car, like the vehicle they were in was chomping away at it. Like they were devouring it as they rolled along, still free from any contact with authorities. It was becoming more and more apparent to Fats that maybe they'd simply made it out. Even after all the shit. They were home free.

His question drew more silence than he wanted. He expected an immediate excitement to hit the trio. Like he'd just busted them out of jail. And to him, he did. He felt his driving was on point. Late to get going, but in the end it was the result that mattered. To him, anyway. His life was a bit like that. A chaotic cluster fuck with a sticky stringy thread of silver lining. Maybe they saw what transpired differently. These concerns passed when John finally spoke.

Louis took a deep breath. His smile was ear to ear. Atleast that's how it felt. His heart was erect with joy. Finally, a real fuckin' job. And all he needed to do was survive a city in flames, write off a high ranking criminal's personal automobile and nearly get them all thrown in a cell, as possible play things for bubba. Just like he planned it, he humorously mused to himself before responding.

"Fuck the second spot. We're gonna hit the bank."

He looked over at John, beaming. He'd just echoed the man's words. He was all in. Life was that way. Tip toes weren't enough. You had to sack the fuck up and go all the way. Else what was the point? Draggin' your ass around under a cloud of indecision? Holding up an umbrella of we may as well? Fuck that. Louis rode the bull. No saddle. Just two fists full of horns. Earlier, he was half assing it. Dragging his problems with them like a fuckin' wet blanket. Now, he was back. Fats was back, and with his response they began prepping for the bank.