John ran. His legs burned. His heart beat harder than it ever had. Adrenaline surged through his system ( Read more... )

John’s awakening the next morning was a bit less rude. This time the 8 o’ clock alarm called him from his long slumber; and after a shower, a change of clothes and a proper cup of coffee, John felt like a new man. When he finished checking his gun, as he always did, John went out to his car, his sole prized possession. The jet black 1969 Pontiac ( Read more... )

John woke up in on the couch of his cheap, miniature excuse for an apartment in the North End. His first reaction was that he had experienced, and pretty much forgotten, another night of drunken revelry. That’s when the gunpowder smell on his clothes hit him, and it all came back. The shoot-out, the message, and Donnie’s nine o’ clock car hit ( Read more... )

Freedom felt good to John, it always did. This time, however, his freedom was a bit more relative. After accepting the job, John was released without any problem. Which was a true testament of Donnie’s power and influence; He could turn a murder in to a traffic ticket. Unfortunately, in exchange for his influence, John had become something ( Read more... )

John hated holding cells. They were damp and dirty, filled with the detritus and crude graffiti of its previous occupants. The cold iron made him feel like some kind of caged animal. And there was that anticipation, the impending sense of doom that you never can shake no matter how many times you get pinched. But the solidarity gave John a ( Read more... )

Bang ( Read more... )

Jonathan Black sat in a smoky, sparsely populated bar, a half empty glass of scotch on the rocks his only company. He stared at the brown liquid as he traced his finger around the rim of the short, thick glass. The jazz band in the corner did little to advert his attention, and the dim lights only helped. His thoughts swirled with the ( Read more... )

They all sat in a dimly lit interrogation room. The only furnishings were a few chairs circa 1970 and a generic rectangular table. On one side sat two calm, collected detectives both sporting stereotypical black suits. Their arms were folded and they both sported that smug grin you get when you know you’re going to win, and you can look down on ( Read more... )