Get Timers Now!
X
 
Mar 28 - 20:59:35
-1
Page:  1 
Down In Four Started by: Adonis on Sep 19, '18 00:44

"Move! Get out of the way!" Joe shouted as they cut through the middle of a couple, the guy copping a nudge which sent him hurling into a newspaper stand.

Hot on their heels, the boys in government issue uniforms. The hit went awry. They weren't to know what waited for them outside the bar. It was pure luck they got out when they did. Maybe a miracle they weren't shot in the process. But they were out, and slightly ahead of their pursuers.

Joe was quickly tiring. Being an asthmatic made for an interesting getaway. His lungs weren't holding the air like they should've. Each in-breath getting more and more heavy. Wheezing came next.

They shot across the two lane road, dodging the front of a skidding Chevrolet as soon as they left the sidewalk. A quick head turn revealed the coppers weren't giving up, also making quick work of the now parked car. The driver yelled profanities out of the window with a wave of the fist. If only he knew what went down just moments earlier.

Back onto the sidewalk on the opposite side, Adonis' heart pumping, working harder than it should. The lack of breath taking was catching up with him. They ducked down an alleyway, still keeping up a quick pace. He'd die before he got caught and went back to the slammer. As he flicked his head back to check, he noticed they had gotten a little lead, the federal agents just entering the alley as they went to exit the other end.

Joe flung himself around the corner using a lamp post as a slingshot, taking a hard turn down a smaller one lane street. Joe was too busy focused on who was behind them, and as they turned the corner, and his eyes darted around to the front of them, he shoulder bumped a pedestrian. Joe sent him flying into a rose bush and in turn nearly toppled to the ground himself.

They'd later argue this point. If they should've just kept going. But truth be told, Joe was spent. His lungs weren't functioning as you'd want them to when fleeing a crime scene. The lack of air intake was affecting him. Had been for the last block or so. He halfheartedly reached back towards the man who was trying to dig himself out of Mr's Jones' prize winning bush. With his head hanging low, he placed both hands on his knees and tried sucking in what air he could.

Glancing up at Ilaria with a strained expression, Joe forced a smile best he could.

"We.. got.. this.." Joe said between quick, sharp breaths. His bravado was commendable given their predicament.

Report Post Tip

They had been running for what seemed like miles. Ilaria had lost her shoes two streets ago, because running in heels was slowing her down. She skidded to a stop beside the bush. Her brain was working double overtime; trying to work out how to evade the Feds, and trying to gauge how close Joe was to a full - blown asthma attack. God, she could use a drink.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

"Joe, give me your gun, quick."

She looked back at the mouth of the alley. There wasn't much time left.

Report Post Tip

"What?"

He stood up tall and flicked his hands behind his head, using it to help him stay upright and lengthen his chest. But all he wanted to do was sit down, or lay down.

"My gun? What the hell for?" He replied bluntly. He wasn't in the mood for being polite. Not even to a nurse.

Joe licked his lips as he moved forward to where she was standing. His mouth was becoming more and more dry. God, a drink could use him. He shook his head. He was finding it hard to keep his thoughts together. Lay down. Sit.

As he arched his back in an attempt to open up the airways even more, his shirt, which was already mostly untucked and dangling longer than it should, slid up a little, revealing a colt tucked into the waistline of his pants at the front.

Report Post Tip

Ilaria knew they needed a distraction, and fast. She also knew that Joe had his flask with him. Heavy footsteps were getting closer. Ilaria reached out and grabbed the Colt, casting a serious look at him. 

"Do you trust me?" 

Her voice, though hurried, was as firm as he would have ever heard from her. The look in her eyes was sharp, but held an air of confidence that she was growing into every day. 

Report Post Tip

If it were any other time, any other day, he would've flashed his usually confident and what he believed to be, a warm disarming smile. He couldn't help it. He found most things amusing, a challenge even, and he was always up to a challenge. He sought them out if they didn't knock on the glass windows of the pool hall. But his asthma had been triggered. He wasn't in the mood for games.

"Woah. What the hell are you doing?" He exclaimed as his hands dropped from his head. Upturned, they took on a gesture of 'what the fuck' and joined his shrugging shoulders. He stepped back a little, hoping it would calm her down.

Joe noticed the look she was giving him. She meant business and the stare cut through him more and more as the seconds ticked on. He hadn't seen this from her before. Her confidence was on overdrive. How could he not trust her?

"Of course I trust you." He finally blurted out, his hands dropping to his sides.

Report Post Tip

That was all she needed to hear. Ilaria turned toward the alley, aiming the gun where where the pack of suits were within spitting distance.  

"Hey! Lady!  Drop the gun!  NOW!"

The lead agent fumbled for his own gun.  Ilaria took a deep breath, then turned her body entirely, aiming the weapon at Joe.  Her expression softened, and her eyes silently repeated what her heart was always thinking.

A moment later, the Colt fired, sending hot lead into his chest, right at the breast pocket.

Report Post Tip

... Earlier ...

A nod to the doormen either side of the entrance was all that was needed to start things off. Joe raised his arms and smirked as the hired guard checked him for weapons, concealed or otherwise, patting him down from under his shoulders to his waist. As the skinny yet serious looking goon bent down to go further south, Joe gave him a taste of his humor.

"Wanna finish me off, while you're finishing me off?"

It wasn't taken too kindly. A stiff punch to the gut told Joe how well it went over. It took the wind out of his sails, having him need to press his hand against the wall for a moment. But not for long. He shook it off with a chuckle and a wink at the goon who was straight mean mugging him and who quickly pointed his hand towards the door.

Joe turned and met Ilaria in front of the main entry point to the bar. She'd also just got done being searched. He glanced at her with a playful grin, his arm bent and his elbow poking at her waist.

"Shall we, Le Strega?"

The two entered the same place Joe had found himself in days prior. It was quiet, just as it was then. The interior looked practically the same as they slowly made their way through. As he turned his head to meet her gaze, he reaffirmed that she looked like sex on legs with a cheeky grin and a nod. He made sure to tell her exactly that before they left the Dockside Inn. And oddly, he hoped the guy seated in the exact same booth he was last time saw her in a similar light. The plan hinged on it.

If anyone could rival the looks he got as he moved about town he believed it would be her. Not just now, but definitely, right the fuck now. He felt a poke in his ribs which had him focus his eyes forward again. They finally stopped walking, arriving at the side of the bar and just in front of the dining area.

Just ahead of them a large African-American man sat in a booth. It was the only one occupied. Besides the barmen to their right, who was leaning against the bar from the service side of it, he was the only other person here. And really the only one that mattered. For their purpose as well as the business he ran.

He was a bookie, of sorts. The kind that liked to gamble. But only on sure things. Horses, for one. But mainly, boxing. Joe and Tyki both met with the man before their fight. How could Joe resist? He didn't know his opponent's reasons but he was well aware of his own. And it had haunted him ever since he took the fall. Down, in four. He did as requested. Money the motivator. But as with all things, he'd changed.

Joe took one last look at the women by his side, the night prior still fresh in his mind. In some respects she had more bravado than even he did. He tried not to think about it but if this was to be Adontoro's last hoorah he wanted to remember how beautiful she looked. If it was going to be his last offering to the God's, how angelic she glowed.

After a kiss on his companion's cheek, Adonis put on his game face. He moved confidently through the clutter of tables and chairs in the direction of the man and his booth, leaving Ilaria to her own devices.

Report Post Tip

Ilaria's dress was absolutely out of character for her - but that was part and parcel to the plan. It was a deep red number with a sweetheart neckline and a fit that hugged her feminine curves closely. Peeking from under the knee - length hem, one could sometimes see the lacy tops of her thigh-high nylons. In truth  she felt like a hooker, but that didn't matter; the plan just had to work.

As she and Joe parted ways in the bar, Ilaria flashed a smile at the sizeable man seated alone at the table. Having briefly established sultry eye contact with him, she sauntered to the bar and ordered herself an Old Fashioned. All she had to do now was wait for Joe's signal for drinks. 

Report Post Tip

"Ah, my man!"

A smirk from Joe was all he could muster in return as he slid into the booth across from the happy-go-lucky businessman.

"Well, as promised."

A suitcase that was off to the side was pushed forward into the center of the table and flicked open.

Another smirk from Joe. This time, not because his eyes were as greedy as his pockets were large, but because he knew he wasn't here for that. He had to play the part though, and nodded his approval.

"I'm proud of you, Adonis. You did what was asked. What was requested. You didn't let your pride get in the way. And that's something. You know how many people would've fought for their careers?"

It stung. Really stung. He'd already regretted it. He'd busted up his hand because of it, which showed itself to be wrapped in medical tape as Joe placed both on the table in front of him. He grit his teeth as he continued to hold his smile.

"How many would've wanted to really make something out of their talent? Look, you ain't got the goods. You got heart, but that's all you got."

Really, really stung. Joe let out an exaggerated chuckle.

"And now, you got all this."

The bulging presence leaned back in the booth as he nodded at the money. There was evidence he'd been calculating other opportunities by a pen and pad on the table in front of him, which was what Joe was now staring at.

Report Post Tip

It was surprisingly easy to play the role of a dumb broad in a short dress. No one thinks you're listening. No one thinks you've got the sense to put two and two together and make four. Ilaria, however, was listening, and suddenly the equation made much more sense. 

Since last night and all that transpired, she hadn't pressed Joe for any answers as to what sent him so far down whisky road after the fights. Prying wasn't her nature. For that very same reason, when he asked for her help taking someone out, she was happy to do so, no questions asked. Now, hearing the stranger's conversation, Ilaria finally understood everything. Wounded pride hurts a man more than just about anything. 

With a renewed determination, Ilaria peeked back just as Joe placed his hands on the table. That was the signal. Ilaria perked up and tapped the bar top, getting the barkeep's attention. 

"Let me have two scotch, on the rocks. Top shelf."

The bar tender nodded absently and started pouring the drinks. He was listening to some radio broadcast of what sounded like some kind of sporting event. He slid the drinks to her, then turned back to the radio. Quickly, Ilaria pulled the tiny glass vial from her cleavage, twisted off the cap, and dumped the powdery contents into a glass. She then picked it up with her left hand and gave it a swirl as she picked up the other.

"You gentlemen look like you've got something to celebrate!" 

Her voice was bright and cheerful as she approached. She placed the clean drink in front of Joe, then wiggled around the table and placed the other in front of the big man with a little wink. 

​​​​​​

Report Post Tip

"Indeed we do, doll!"

The mark picked up the glass and swirled the contents around. Perfect. If it wasn't already mixed in properly, that just did it. The plan was going along swimmingly. Joe grabbed at his own glass, feeling a little more at ease with what had just been said. His ego was bruised, left a little crushed in the Purgatory Gym, but this would be the healing touch.

Plans didn't always work out as you wanted them to though. Joe could already see it. The desire in the big guys eyes as he looked Ilaria over. Joe couldn't blame him. It was as expected. As planned. She really was that hot in that outfit. She'd practically set the furniture on fire as she walked over to them.

"See, my man? This here is a real women. The kind you just want to be bad to, you know?"

He watched his gluttonous lips part and out came that laughter. It wasn't manic, he wasn't a madman, but it seemed that way to Joe. He was getting heated under the collar and not because of Ilaria's presence. Not directly. The target still hadn't taken a sip of his drink. The contents continued to swirl about as he lapped up his own sinful thoughts, taking pleasure in the little fantasy playing in his mind.

"You know? Just want to take out back in the alley and have ya way with her."

There it was again. That smarmy, fuckin' laughter.

"The things I would do to her, my man."

And there it went. The plan. And Joe's cool. He slowly and calmly took a sip of the clean drink Ilaria had brought over as he eyed the still laughing face across from him. Adonis then tossed it across the table before quickly sliding his hand down to his ankle as he bent forward, leaning his off-hand on the table. It didn't take more than a few seconds before he was seated upright once more, this time with a colt detective snub-nose revolver in hand, pointed at the now not so happy bookie's face.

It was suppose to be the drink. The poison that acted within the hour and left the dead man's body without leaving a trace of the concoction used. It was suppose to be untraceable to them. Maybe they'd be a suspicious witness or circumstantial suspect depending on who was asking, but nothing more.

But, that plan had just gone to shit. Out the door they came in. They'd need to move onto plan B. The only problem was, they'd only discussed one.

Report Post Tip

The next movements from each man in the bar was simultaneous.  It was like the beginning of a bad joke; a black guy, an Italian guy, and a Mexican guy walked into a bar.  As Joe's gun emerged, so did that of the large man across the table from him. Ilaria jumped back a few feet, then heard another a loud clacking.  All eyes briefly moved to the bartender, who had pulled a shotgun from under the bar and had it aimed right at Joe.  There was only a split second, but the air was so tense, everyone could feel it as they inhaled what might be their last breath.  

The brute at the table with Joe bellowed.

"Wrong move, Adonis."

BANG

One shot blasted into the large man's back, followed by another that very nearly burst through his chest.  The man's body arched unnaturally, his eyes wide and mouth gaping open.  His gun fell to the floor as his heavy frame crashed forward through the wooden table, smashing it to splinters.

Ilaria turned the gun to the bartender, then pulled the trigger again.  Nothing happened.  She tried again- but the trigger was jammed.

"Aahhh, fanculo!  Joe!  The bartender!"

She saw the bartender close his eye and turn his head down, and she immediately dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding a blast from the sawed-off gun.  

Before the sound of the blast stopped echoing off the walls, Joe was emptying the magazine of the Colt into the bartender, walking straight toward him as the bullets flew.  The bartender ragdolled with each shot, until his corpse dropped to the floor in a heap.  

Report Post Tips: 1 / Total: $200,000 Tip

This Forum Is For 100% 1950's Role Play (AKA Streets)
Replying to: Down In Four
Compose Body:

@Mention Notifications: On More info
How much do you want to tip for this post?

Minimum $20,000

(NaN)
G2
G1
L
H
D
C
Private Conversations
0 PLAYERS IN CHANNEL