Post by Jesse 'Devil-Anse' McCoy on Oct 10, 2016 16:21:49 GMT -6
CUTTER CREEK, NORTH CAROLINA
AUGUST 15TH, 2003
The Harley Street 750 was pushing it limits as the 20 something year old masked robber danced it in and out of traffic. Police was in full pursuit just as his small crew had predicated, and today was no different than each heist day over the last two years. The plan was to hit two trucks at the Cutter CREEK National Bank, three men take the score in a black van, and the last man was a distraction so the rest could get away. So far it was as planned, the riders next destination was to hit heavy traffic, cutting off the police, and then heading to a parking garage for pick up.
"Devil you are about to hit the evening rush hour traffic, torch the bike and get to the safe house! We're safe brother!"
The ear piece cracked one last time with the voice his gangs leader King, meaning Devil was on his own. He held down right on the throttle. When he hit the dead wall of vehicles his bike flew just as beautiful between the cars and trucks. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder just as cops came to screeching car turning stops followed by crashing of the cars behind them!
"Woo!" Devil screamed into the freeing air. He turned his bike up Fleet street three blocks from the cop car wreckage, and in another block he pulled the bike into the parking garage. The beast of a man jumped off the bike tearing off his gear, mask, and ear piece. He tore his shirt corner while unscrewing the gas cap, he dipped the torn shirt into it, with his other now free hand he lit the cloth before running towards the south exit.
Freedom...
That was his last thought before a storm of agents came rushing the sides of the south exit. Guns drawn.
BOOM!
The bike exploded behind Devil as he held up his hands, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
The first agent was in him now, "Get on the ground Mr. McCoy this is the end of the line!"
Devil dropped to his knees locking his hands behind his head, "What the duck is this?"
A much older man came forward this time smiling, "I call it a success brother. We got you and the rest of your crew. Took us two years but we got you."
Devil was shocked as he was begin handcuffed shaking his head, "Rats right? You us a rat!"
The older agent laughed, "We had a rat the whole time, Officer Jacobs or as you know him Mark Susburrow is a damn fine agent."
"You son of a bitch!" Devil roared trying to attack the man but it was no use, Devil-Anse was caught.
13 years later...
The door of his home for the last 13 years slammed behind him, Jesse stood perplexed for a moment outside the prison, freedom had been his last thought, he had six more years until two days ago and freedom hadn't ever entered his brain until now. He had no money, family, or place to go. Then a black van pulled up in front of him and a tinted window rolled down, "Lookin' fer a ride lad?"
Jesse's jaw dropped, "King? Lorenzo King is that you?"
The black haired with peppered Irish man laughed, "Aye brother, Get in we got a job."
AUGUST 15TH, 2003
The Harley Street 750 was pushing it limits as the 20 something year old masked robber danced it in and out of traffic. Police was in full pursuit just as his small crew had predicated, and today was no different than each heist day over the last two years. The plan was to hit two trucks at the Cutter CREEK National Bank, three men take the score in a black van, and the last man was a distraction so the rest could get away. So far it was as planned, the riders next destination was to hit heavy traffic, cutting off the police, and then heading to a parking garage for pick up.
"Devil you are about to hit the evening rush hour traffic, torch the bike and get to the safe house! We're safe brother!"
The ear piece cracked one last time with the voice his gangs leader King, meaning Devil was on his own. He held down right on the throttle. When he hit the dead wall of vehicles his bike flew just as beautiful between the cars and trucks. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder just as cops came to screeching car turning stops followed by crashing of the cars behind them!
"Woo!" Devil screamed into the freeing air. He turned his bike up Fleet street three blocks from the cop car wreckage, and in another block he pulled the bike into the parking garage. The beast of a man jumped off the bike tearing off his gear, mask, and ear piece. He tore his shirt corner while unscrewing the gas cap, he dipped the torn shirt into it, with his other now free hand he lit the cloth before running towards the south exit.
Freedom...
That was his last thought before a storm of agents came rushing the sides of the south exit. Guns drawn.
BOOM!
The bike exploded behind Devil as he held up his hands, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
The first agent was in him now, "Get on the ground Mr. McCoy this is the end of the line!"
Devil dropped to his knees locking his hands behind his head, "What the duck is this?"
A much older man came forward this time smiling, "I call it a success brother. We got you and the rest of your crew. Took us two years but we got you."
Devil was shocked as he was begin handcuffed shaking his head, "Rats right? You us a rat!"
The older agent laughed, "We had a rat the whole time, Officer Jacobs or as you know him Mark Susburrow is a damn fine agent."
"You son of a bitch!" Devil roared trying to attack the man but it was no use, Devil-Anse was caught.
13 years later...
The door of his home for the last 13 years slammed behind him, Jesse stood perplexed for a moment outside the prison, freedom had been his last thought, he had six more years until two days ago and freedom hadn't ever entered his brain until now. He had no money, family, or place to go. Then a black van pulled up in front of him and a tinted window rolled down, "Lookin' fer a ride lad?"
Jesse's jaw dropped, "King? Lorenzo King is that you?"
The black haired with peppered Irish man laughed, "Aye brother, Get in we got a job."
