“One shell, two shell, red shell, blue shell.” Aegor muttered to himself as he loaded his model 12.

There comes a time in every person’s life where they must draw a line in the sand and decide enough is enough. That if someone were to cross said line, they would regret it. It was a blistering July night. The streets were dead, and the air was calm. Aegor lifted his head and moved the window blinds to the side. He squinted for a bit as his vision adjusted to the difference in light. Bingo. They were there just as expected. It was time to draw a line in the fucking sand.

He never believed he’d find himself in a deli at three in the morning with a shotgun in hand as sweat raced down the side of his face, but Aegor couldn’t let the disrespect go on any longer. It could have been a coincidence that they only started hitting the delicatessens in this neighborhood once they were under his protection or maybe, just maybe, there were some people out there that thought Aegor was an easy mark. Someone, you could make a fool out and get away with it. Well, no more. No one was pilfering his prosciutto tonight.

“They just got out of the car. They’re coming.” said Danny “The Beefcutter” Danielson, the proprietor of the delicatessen.

“How many?” asked Aegor as he took a deep breath.

“Just two. One’s got a crowbar, the other’s got a pistol.” said Danny.

“Wait until they’re inside. Then we’ll take them.” said Aegor as Danny nodded.

So they waited and waited and waited. Enough time had passed that Aegor’s anxiety began to die down. At least two minutes had passed. Where the fuck did they go? Aegor yet again opened the blinds. There was no one there. Did they leave? No. Their car was still parked across the street. Before he could speak he heard a loud crack and the back door flew open. Aegor ducked down behind the outer part of the counter. Did they see him? Do they know he’s there?

“Well, what do we have here.” said one of the men as he pointed his gun at Danny.

“Thought you could get the drop on us. Huh?” said the other one.

“What the fuck is that? Is… Is that a tire iron? Did you think that would get the job done? You should have brought something else.” said the thief with the gun as they both began to laugh.

They don’t know. They didn’t see him. Aegor took a deep breath and placed the stock on his shoulder.

“He did bring something else. Nice, to meat you.” said Aegor as he squeezed the trigger.

(My story is about someone waking up in the distant past, and coming too)

Unknown Date and Time

Nicholas would begin to faintly awaken, and roll onto his side using his hands as a pillow, his head pounding from the many drinks he enjoyed the night before.

"Holy hell this place is cold, can we get some heat in here."

Nicholas would faintly remember being in southern Nevada and feel odd remembering that he had spent the night in the booking of a local jail.
The soft fluffy snow throwing off his senses, he would pat the ground next to his head not feeling the familiar touch of concrete. Nicholas's eyes would open, as he sat up and began to take in his surroundings. Nicholas's eyes would widen as he realized he was no longer in jail, nor Nevada. He would jump to his feet, and begin to reach into his pocket, feeling instead his freezing skin.

"Where the hell am I? Better yet where are my clothes?"

Nicholas would pause for a moment feeling as he was being pranked.

"Alright Chris come out, this isn't funny, where did you take me? Get me some clothes it's too damn cold." Nicholas would yell out.

Nicholas would survey his snowy surroundings noticing a few trees, and a hill in front of him. He walked to the top of the hill, and looked around, not seeing anyone, or any buildings.

"I'm going to be so late for my plane..."

Nicholas would notice a faint trail of smoke rising over the next ridge line, and began walking to it. Upon reaching it he would be shivering, and holding his arms crossed in front of his chest. He would look down the hill, and notice a small grouping of primitive buildings, smoke rising from the furthest one he could smell meat being cooked. He noticed how hungry he was having not ate yet, and began walking down the hill towards the encampment when something in his subconscious told him that this wasn't right.

Nicholas would think to himself, "Somethings weird here, Where are all the people, Why are there no cars, not even a snowmobile..."
He would shrug it off, and continue to walk towards the encampment.

"Hello?! Anyone here?!" He shouted as he made his way past the first of the buildings and into the center of the small settlement.

No one would respond however he could hear laughter coming from the furthest building, the one he had noticed the smoke from.
Nicholas walked towards the building, hearing voices speaking in a strange language as he got closer. He recognized that the language was certainly not English, but he could understand it. He would observe the scene through the open doorway as he got closer, he would see men dressed in the skin of animals gathered around a long table drinking and eating meat.

Nicholas decided to continue forward thinking to himself that he had come to far to turn back...besides where else would he go?

Why is the prize less? I’d guess this in the Financial News 4 days ago, Hedge funds lose another $30bn as performance fails to convince.

Diversify guys, a little in the big gain big risk a little in the low gain low risk.  

 (This story continues the “One Sunday in the Park” Thread where Rev’s stories are ongoing)

It’s been a boring week for Revenant since last Tuesday. Sailing on a barge down the Mississippi isn’t a pleasure cruise. While he oversaw the operation, he took on a deck hand role on the ship only consulting with the Captain in private. This way if anything happened, he didn’t go down with the ship in a manner of speaking.  It was mostly a waiting game with lines at the locks. There was a few times when palms needed to be greased of course. Usually with one of the barrels of “corn syrup” they were hauling. With an inner liner of aluminum, the 55-gallon drum held 53 gallons of whiskey. Bound for a secret unloading setup South of Dubuque along a wilder stretch of the Mighty Miss the half the barrels would be transported to Naperville Illinois. There at a small factory part of the Gorlitz Confectionery Company the syrup would be sucked out and used to make candy corn. In a small soda bottling company under the Howdy Company name the rest of the syrup barrels would be used to cut the amount of sugar needed in the soda recipe, corn syrup being much cheaper. The booze would be shipped in hidden bottoms of the trucks that delivered the pop to a Chicago thirsty for something other than water. It made a tasty cocktail with the whiskey, but everyone hated the name.  “7UP Lithiated Lemon-Lime Sodas”, everyone just used the shorter 7up.

Rounding a narrow bend, the engines hum to life slowly nudging the barge over to what looks like a small dock for a fishing boat. There are several men milling about some were fishing all standing up and when the barge bumps softly up against the mooring pylon. They all are walking over to identical painted trucks from the nearby freight dispatch center, part of North Shore Import Export Ltd.  

Walking over with a smile to the nearby office he’s greeted warmly by the shop boss and given a glass of “7 and 7”. The fine Canadian whiskey was blended with the cheaper rotgut from the hidden area distilleries. This made the rotgut more tolerable, so was called 7 Crown, a joke that its 7 out of ten now. With a couple long gulps Revenant downs, it with a smile. This would be a profitable transport route now that they had a well-trained crew.

There was really no reason for Orion to be there, not one at all. He had spent enough time by now working his way up the ranks that he didn’t have to be out slumming it. There was always going to be that nagging little voice that danced around the corner of his consciousness, “Why aren’t you doing more? Why aren’t you better involved?”

Orion shook that thought away as he pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket. He drew in short shallow breaths as he flicked his lighter open with a spark. Drawing a long inhale before letting out a large puff of smoke he surgically slid his knife from its holder around his waist. Jamming the blade in between the piece of wood he began working it back and forth, the creak of the nails working their way out filling the otherwise empty warehouse.

It took longer than he cared to admit but eventually the top of the crate popped off. He let out a long tired sigh as he slipped his weapon back away before lifting the top off and sliding it until it tipped off and slammed against the ground.

Quickly stuffing his arms into the shredded paper that filled the open space his fingers wrapped around the handle of a heavy metal cooler. He wasn’t expecting the sheer weight of it as he had to steady himself by placing the soles of his shoes against the bottom of the carte for leverage and lifted with all of his strength. He let out a groan as the cooler lifted upwards before slamming down onto the concrete floor as he finally freed it. 

At this point, Orion had bent over, resting his hands in his knees and panting slightly. Two hundred pounds of cocaine in each cooler was heavier than he had originally anticipated. It probably would have been a better idea to grab a few non suspecting hands but these days it was easier to just avoid any prying eyes than have to pay for their silence. 

It had taken him the better part of the unusually quiet night but he finally finished unloading the fifteen crates that had been shipped and signed for. Large stacks of bags filled with white powder where lined up along the far wall, some three or four bags deep. 

Orion let out a tired yawn as he stretched his hands high above his head, his knuckles popping and snapping as he did. He certainly wasn’t the math guy but, if he moved any of this at even the slightest of mark ups, he was looking at a hefty pay day. 

Finally content with the days activities he kicked a milk crate over with his foot before plopping down on it. He lit his smoke almost as soon as he sat, letting his mind wander to the potentially large payday that was coming his way.

Some great entries here, guys!  I wish I could give you ALL $28M, but I can't.

Winning announcement to be made before the end of today!

I love you all, very much.