𝕺𝖓𝖊 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖕 |
𝓢𝓗𝓔 took a long drawl of her cigarette before waking the others. There was an exchange happening tonight with her target at the club and it was her lucky night after three months of unsuccessful stake-outs and dead-end leads. Their objective; take down Mitch Quon, a highly known gangster working for a drug lord. Quon was doing a delivery tonight and this was their only chance of finally getting him behind bars.
“Aye,” she called, “wake-y, wake-y! Quon’s ETA is eleven minutes out, so get your asses up!”
The sound of her men’s groaning and yawning filled her ears. Rachel turned the light on in the van so that everyone could see. It was close to midnight and she and several others were at a stake-out at the nightclub near the edge of downtown Oxton, New York.
As they exited the black van, Rachel let her cigarette fall to the floor and ground her foot into the burning end, extinguishing the embers. “Be careful with Quon, boys.” She reminded them, “he’s a strong bastard, so I don’t want you to underestimate him,” Rachel looked at her partner as she lit another cigarette. “Danté, you keep an eye on Quon,” then to the others, “I want two guys at the front, one at the back with me. The rest of you, head inside and get Quon on the ground, but do not engage before the extraction. I’ll get the other guy who received whatever was exchanged.”
As they all got into their positions, Rachel flexed her hands. She wasn’t planning on letting Quon go again. She was so close to getting him. So close.
𝓡𝓐𝓒𝓗𝓔𝓛 and Odin sat at the back entrance waiting for the guy who had dealt with Quon. He should have gotten the drugs by now, but 20 minutes passed and nothing happened.
Danté swore he saw the exchange and he said the guy went into the back, but that was fifteen minutes ago. Rachel and Odin were at the back entrance and for the past ten minutes, no one had come out. No one except a woman wearing red pieces of clothing that barely covered her and a black coat to keep warm under the cold October night.
Rachel’s cell rang and she answered before the second ring. “Yeah?”
Danté’s voice sounded from the other end. “We’re about to engage with Quon. Did you get the other guy?”
Rachel sighed. “No one came out back. Send one of the boys to where you last saw him leave, maybe he’ll fish him out. I’ll come in through the back and corner him. I’ll leave Odin out here in case I miss him”
Danté’s voice sounded on the other end with anticipation. “I’ll send Dougie over.”
The call ended and Rachel shoved her phone in the back of her pant pocket.
“I’m heading inside to try and fish our guy out with Dougie whose headed our way,” she told Odin who was leaning against the wall. “Stay out here in case I missed him. Danté said he was carrying a small black backpack and the guy was wearing a white shirt. Dude’s a white male with wavy brown-black hair.”
“Got it, hoss.”
As she entered the back of the building, a loud crash sounded not too far away from her and multiple voices could be heard yelling and shouting. Rachel raced in that direction without a second thought.
When she rounded the corner, most of her men were on the floor in pain and bystanders huddled to the walls far away from the ongoing fight. Danté aimed a punch at Quon who was a tall, black man who looked to be in his late thirties. He was quite big too. Quon dodged the punch and hit Danté in the face with his open palm and threw a kick at his thigh, injuring him.
As Rachel quickly strode for them, she picked up a beer bottle and emptied it on the way there, then smashed it against a marble counter. “HEY YOU FAT FUCK!” Rachel screamed. she stood a few feet away from him. Quon whirled around and sneered when he saw her, but within those seconds, Rachel already had the bottle in the air soaring for Quon’s shiny, overly large, dark forehead. A loud roar of pain followed shortly after the bottle came into contact with him. It stunned Quon a good amount, but Rachel didn’t give him a chance to shake it off. She came at him in a sprint, then kicking both her legs at Quon, he went flying back into a glass pane that seperated two booth seats. He didn’t get up after that. She quickly walked over to Quon’s downed body and had cuffs around him in an instant. Around her, Danté and the others had gotten onto their feet and had began shaking off pieces of debris and pain from their bodies.
Half an hour passed and Rachel and the rest of her team sat in the back of the nightclub in disbelief. The black bag that Danté saw earlier was here, but no one else was seen when they’d entered. Nothing of importance was left in the bag except for wrappers and pieces of advertisement papers. Rachel and her boys had searched thoroughly in the locker room, but nothing out of the ordinary was spotted.
“I don’t believe it,” one of them was saying, “it can’t have gotten away like that. We had the place on lockdown.”
That wasn’t necesarilly true. They didn’t have it on lockdown, but Rachel didn’t say anything. Instead, she took another cigarette out and lit it up.
“We got Quon so far,” she started. Everyone’s attention turned to her as she spoke, “we’ll worry about the drugs later.”
In truth, she was worried and angry that they hadn’t had solid proof that could put Quon behind bars for a good amount of years. The most he’d stay in jail would be for at least a night or two, then he’d be back doing what he did best––running errands like an errand boy.
From the corner of her eye, Rachel could see Danté silently watching her. She and Danté were as close as family and they knew each other better than they knew themselves. She could tell that Danté knew she was worrying over the fact that they didn’t have solid evidence that Quon made a delivery. Rachel avoided meeting his gaze, but he has a mouth and he uses it.
“We can worry about the drugs now, because Quon won’t be in prison,” Danté said calmly.
The guys exchanged uneasy glances with one another. That was a bad move for Rachel as a leader––not addressing the issue when it’s right in front of them. But after months of long stake-outs and hard work, they’d finally caught Quon. It wasn’t as big of a win as she’d thought it’d be, but she wanted the guys to feel good about catching Quon after everything they did together on this case.
“True,” Rachel replied, “but we lost the this guy and since we lost this guy, we don’t have the evidence anymore, however, when Quon gets out, we’ll just follow his trail again.” Rachel shrugged, “See if our guy comes up.”
William, one of her guys, and a few others sighed in exasperation, but no one spoke up.
𝓣𝓗𝓔 next day, Rachel lit another cigarette in her mouth as she watched Quon and one of his cronies exit the police station. He looked a little smug with that hideous smirk of his and his shiny forehead with millions of wrinkles and lines on it. He wore the same clothes he was in when they’d caught him last night.
As they descended the stairs, she deliberately walked out in front of him, paused, took a long drawl of her cigarette and blew a puff of white smoke into his face. “Don’t look too smug there, Quon,” she began slowly. “You’ll be back here in no time.”
Quon’s brown eyes glared down at her. He stood a good five feet taller than she did, but that didn’t stop Rachel from backing down, no. It only made her stand her ground and hold her place.
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “good luck with that, bitch.”
Then without waiting for a reply, he shoved past her, his guy following behind him.
Oh, she’d get him alright. She’ll have Quon behind bars sooner than he could ever get clean and in rehab.
As she glared at the back of Quon’s head, Danté who’d stood quiet during the whole interaction walked up behind her and asked, “You sure this is a good idea?”
While Quon drove off in a black cadillac, Rachel gave Danté a side glance, “What’s a good idea?” Better to play dumb than assume, but Rachel already knew what he was going to say.
“Following Quon again,”
Rachel let her head fall back onto her shoulders and took a long drawl from her cigarette. After a moment, she finally looked at the man. His average 5′8" build was spectacularly built like a pro-wrestler, his face sculpted beautifully into a stunning sight, his brown eyes stern and observant. He and Rachel are total opposites, but alike in more than one ways. Danté was quiet, patient and calculated, whereas Rachel was impatient, tempermental, and irrational. They kept each other balanced and challenged each other’s decisions when they thought otherwise. It was good for Rachel to have a friend like Danté. She doesn’t really see him as anything more than a friend or a co-worker. He had really good genes and Rachel may be inspecting him closely at times, sure, but they wouldn’t be anything more than strictly just friends.
“What do you mean by that Danté? What’s wrong with following Quon around like we used to?” She asked slowly.
Danté’s face was stoic as he gave her all of his attention. “He’ll lay low. He’ll have his guys do all the work and we won’t know who they are. He’ll be under the radar.” Danté’s voice went hard, “Rachel, are you even considering what he’ll do now that he’s back out again after almost getting busted?”
Did he think she was an idiot? Of course she knew. She was just certain that Quon wouldn’t care about how he almost got caught.
“I know what I’m doing!” She snapped.
Danté took a step toward her, “Really? What’s the plan then, Rachel? What are we going to get out of this?”
Rachel gave him a withering glare. “We went over this last night already, Danté. Don’t be a dick now that Quon is actually out.” She growled.
After they put Quon in a jail cell, Rachel and a few others went over what they’d do when Quon got released.
“Following him won’t do us any good, Rachel,” Danté warned. “But if we waste all our energy and hard work on him––” he leveled a long look at her that had more words than what was said. “It’ll be your fault.”
Danté would question her, but he wouldn’t stop her.
Rachel turned on her heel and walked away without a backwards glance, her cigarette already more than halfway done, leaving a good half inch left to smoke.
She was doing the right thing, she could feel it.
(small side note, my phone is broken T-T due to a bug, it cuts the cover photo in half when using a desktop to insert a cover photo*MAJOR EYEROLL* sorry TT–TT )
† 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓼𝓽-𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓭, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽’𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽 †
† 𝓔𝓓𝓘𝓣𝓔𝓓 †
† 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵 𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓼! †
† 𝓥𝓞𝓣𝓔! 𝓒𝓞𝓜𝓜𝓔𝓝𝓣! 𝓢𝓗𝓐𝓡𝓔! †
† 𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂; 𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓮 3, 2020 †
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