Pass me a bottle Mr. Jones
Who: ☣ Heine, Badou
When: ☣ Very early morning
Where: ☣ On the way to/ At the New Amsterdam Bar
Summary: ☣ A negotiation goes bad and a warehouse is riddled with bullet holes. Somebody needs a drink.
Warnings: ☣ It’s eye-patch and white hair, that’s a warning in its self.
☣
Negotiation was never Heine’s cup a tea. No, he was the muscle of the outfit and when Granny Liza needed somebody to be roughed up- he was called. So imagine to his unbridled surprise when he was requested to be part of a negotiation to trade out a good sum of money for one of her boys.
From what Heine managed, or rather listened to, was some punk small time gang had taken one of Liza’s boys and was holding him for ransom. To him the whole situation could have been solved by a quick sweep and maybe they would pick up the idiot captive on their way out. But Liza didn’t want all hell to break loose considering the unsavory location of the punk gang’s hideout being just outside of another rival gang’s territory.
At that point Heine was questioning Granny Liza’s seniority, did she remember what happened the last time they were call on to negotiation? He probably should have jogged her memory, but Badou seemed to keen on the idea of an easy job and Heine didn’t want to bother with any ranting on his part.
Now in hindsight he should have said something. As he expected, everything went to hell in a hand basket. Apparently the small time gang had a lot of trouble keeping their own in order. During their ‘negotiation’ one of the gang’s halfwits fired off a warning shot at Heine. Heine in turn responded with and equal amount of force by shooting dangerously close to his attackers head.
Then it happened. Their boss mouthed off- a lot. Heine, foul mooded as always and cranky about being up at one a.m, responded again. This time without equal force. By shooting him in the thigh. Several times.
And the punk gang forwarded their message back- in lead. Lot’s of lead. The rest was a blur of cursing and more bullets. He would swear he heard quite a bit of girlish crying too. By the end of it the small time gang was either shot up or placing in their two week notices. The hostage somehow managed to escape while everyone was too busy shooting each other up and the money still packed tight in a traveling bag.
So the two partners in crime found themselves in a negotiation gone bad. The positive sides were they still had the money, the hostage was relatively safe so long he got back home, and the small time gang was done. Down side was that in a few hours Granny Liza was going the chew them apart for shooting up a warehouse that close to a rival gang’s territory. Thus Heine thought and said what any rational man would say.
“I need a drink.”
Blunt and dry as always he spoke as he walked off not paying much attention to Badou or the case of money. If he wanted to come then he’d follow Heine thought and he walked straight out and on his way to closest bar, New Amsterdam Bar if he was lucid enough to remember. It was a simple bar and this late at night nobody but the owner and a few drunkards should be there.
When: ☣ Very early morning
Where: ☣ On the way to/ At the New Amsterdam Bar
Summary: ☣ A negotiation goes bad and a warehouse is riddled with bullet holes. Somebody needs a drink.
Warnings: ☣ It’s eye-patch and white hair, that’s a warning in its self.
☣
Negotiation was never Heine’s cup a tea. No, he was the muscle of the outfit and when Granny Liza needed somebody to be roughed up- he was called. So imagine to his unbridled surprise when he was requested to be part of a negotiation to trade out a good sum of money for one of her boys.
From what Heine managed, or rather listened to, was some punk small time gang had taken one of Liza’s boys and was holding him for ransom. To him the whole situation could have been solved by a quick sweep and maybe they would pick up the idiot captive on their way out. But Liza didn’t want all hell to break loose considering the unsavory location of the punk gang’s hideout being just outside of another rival gang’s territory.
At that point Heine was questioning Granny Liza’s seniority, did she remember what happened the last time they were call on to negotiation? He probably should have jogged her memory, but Badou seemed to keen on the idea of an easy job and Heine didn’t want to bother with any ranting on his part.
Now in hindsight he should have said something. As he expected, everything went to hell in a hand basket. Apparently the small time gang had a lot of trouble keeping their own in order. During their ‘negotiation’ one of the gang’s halfwits fired off a warning shot at Heine. Heine in turn responded with and equal amount of force by shooting dangerously close to his attackers head.
Then it happened. Their boss mouthed off- a lot. Heine, foul mooded as always and cranky about being up at one a.m, responded again. This time without equal force. By shooting him in the thigh. Several times.
And the punk gang forwarded their message back- in lead. Lot’s of lead. The rest was a blur of cursing and more bullets. He would swear he heard quite a bit of girlish crying too. By the end of it the small time gang was either shot up or placing in their two week notices. The hostage somehow managed to escape while everyone was too busy shooting each other up and the money still packed tight in a traveling bag.
So the two partners in crime found themselves in a negotiation gone bad. The positive sides were they still had the money, the hostage was relatively safe so long he got back home, and the small time gang was done. Down side was that in a few hours Granny Liza was going the chew them apart for shooting up a warehouse that close to a rival gang’s territory. Thus Heine thought and said what any rational man would say.
“I need a drink.”
Blunt and dry as always he spoke as he walked off not paying much attention to Badou or the case of money. If he wanted to come then he’d follow Heine thought and he walked straight out and on his way to closest bar, New Amsterdam Bar if he was lucid enough to remember. It was a simple bar and this late at night nobody but the owner and a few drunkards should be there.