A Wicked Withdrawl

[Ray Hudson]

-Kadarville, Whitefall-
May 13th, 2517 1:49 P.M

Dirt blew in the wind while the sun's unforgiving rays tanned and burned all those that stood beneath it. The town had very little to say for itself other than the fact that it was somewhat large. The buildings were unremarkable and any foreigner could suspect that inbreeding was in abundance here. The streets weren't all that busy but there were enough people roaming around to give the town life.

A woman wearing a plain grey dress and a brown bonnet was walking down the dusty streets with her son in hand. A gray haired man in his forties spat on the brown wooden sidewalk, adding the only bit of moisture that this sidewalk has felt in days. The cloudless sky added a further sense of hopelessness to the moons citizens. One must be an optimist to believe that natural shade would ever come to this town. The dry heat would chap a person's lips without mercy.

The outside of the town was covered with what seemed to be endless hills. The hills were covered with rough and pointed plants that varied from two colors. Green and brown. Back in the town, the citizens were hard at work. The time was one-seventeen so many of the men were hard at work, the woman were at home and the homeless were begging for handouts. Backs were broken and sweat streamed down brows. The streets were long and they led to various parts of the town, however most of it all looked the same.

A long armed homeless man reached out from the ground and grabbed hold of a woman's skirt. His other hand was outstretched with the palm open, expecting money to enter his grip. The woman merely jerked her captured skirt quickly and escaped the homeless man's grasp. She continued on without looking at him while the homeless man lay on the ground with his face in the dirt. He remained there for a short while until eventually returning to the wall were he rested for most of his days. Duncan was a hellish town and it burned all of its inhabitants.

"Look at this. This is modern society for these people. I bet if you showed em a holo-projection they'd piss their pants. Probably try to hit it with a shoe or something, say that it's a ghost."

On a bench sat two men. Ray Hudson rested on the left dressed in a black coat that was buttoned up. Buttoning up his jacket was a rarity for Ray but he found that a change of pace was required. On his right sat Bobo, a rather angry looking Scottish man who had a stern look on his face.

Across from them a group of children were playing an odd game. It was held around a building that read 'Donny's Stop', one of the few general stores in town, another building that was the local bank and a third building that was a simple house. They children were in what appeared to be extremely unbalanced teams, with all of the strong children on one side and all of the weak ones on the other. Eventually their incomprehensible game took them down the street towards another part of town.

"Damn hicks. I'd be legitimately surprised if I found out that there was a school here." Ray continued to express his disdain for their surroundings. He wiped a sheet of sweat from his forehead and let out a sigh.

An older man walked by the two sitting men. He looked at Ray and Bobo with a bright smile and offered the two a friendly nod. Ray returned the nod with a less enthusiastic smile on his own face.

[Bishop Morse]

Bobo watched the people in front of him. He didn’t mind the weather outside. The shade from the overhang came over him. He kept his head bent down, his shaggy hair covering much of his face, but he kept watch of everything in front of him. Laid down at his shoulder was his Martinson .22d Rifle. While to the common eye walking by would just think he was taking a precaution for his own safety, while resting his eyes, he was really just watching the people go before them.

”Aye, that thay wud” Bobo answered to Ray’s first remark about the people around them. The Rim was a very simple place, and had very simple people. Never for a moment ceasing to complain about their living standards, but never working a minute to do anything about it. Though Bobo had grown up on the Rim, he wasn’t the most fond of it. The people were just a little to weak spirited for his tastes, and didn’t have a lot where it counted for him.

He heard Ray’s next statement, which he had little to disagree with. Of course it was an obvious falsehood, was still a relative point which was easily understood. ”Lotta’ good it’d do em out here. These dirt scrappers’r goin no where. Place’s justa damn cross in tha roads fer the farmers. Aint a time I come by, place like this, I aint buggin to wonder fer an answer’s to why they don’t just stick ta candle stecks n’ wecks.” Bobo replied, giving an older analogy for people being poor. He didn’t like the lack of good things in a place like this. There were probably a few wealthy areas on the planet, but there were sure far away from a place like this.


He scratched at his head, and moved the rifle down where it sat on the floor. He blinked hard, a bit of dirt kicked up into his eye. He rubbed it until it no longer irritated him, and he blinked again. He leaned back and looked up at the sky. There was a bit of a wooshing sound off in the distance, like the sound of a flightcraft engine. He scanned the sky and his eye caught a craft coming in off in the distance. It was a boxy looking craft, with a set of small wings on a downward slant coming from. ”Huh oh, flyin’ rat up there’s commin’ en lower than lame men off labor.” Bobo said as he saw it, coming in low towards where they were seated.

[Ray Hudson]

The two men on the bench didn't advertise their conversation. They kept their tones low so they wouldn't be noticed. It also kept the locals from realizing that all Ray and Bobo were doing was insulting their way of life.

"Gotta point there." Ray said, regarding Bobo's two cents on the towns schooling. "Not sure Farmer Chad'll be earning a doctorate anytime soon." Ray leaned forward. "But, I'm sure there perfectly happy with their lifestyle. Coming home after a long day of farming then going... Mudding or whatever the fuck these people do." Ray scanned the streets and observed the citizens. His vision went back to the homeless man for a moment, who was now looking at his worn shoes with a desperate gaze. "I mean, look at that guy." Ray said, only glancing at the man once and never making eye contact. "He looks happier than a dead clown, or a... suicidal motivational speaker."

The box like ship was close and Bobo noticed it shortly before Ray. Bobo made mention of the ship as he saw it. "Yeah." Ray responded to Bobo's statement. After a rather short pause, he continued "I'm not real sure what you just said but I think I got the gist of it" Ray stood up and looked at Bobo. "You ready?"

Making his way to the building across from him, Ray began unbuttoning his coat while keeping his left arm clenched firmly on his side.

[Bishop Morse]

Bobo actually didn’t pay much attention to any of what Ray had said. He was checking his rifle instantaneously after seeing the shuttle in the sky. He made sure a shot was loaded into the chamber, ran his finger down the barrel to check for any indentions which might have come up while moving around. He reached into a pocket and got a grip on his pistol. He lifted it up a little bit and then set it back. As long as everything was in reach and good to move he was prepared. Of course he had already checked these things anyway, but he might as well check again. He checked a knife in his coat, and set it back where it was placed.


He caught the last word and got up from the bench. ”It’s a bit leanin tward’s the ‘Getting Up Lenora’ aint et? And that there es anuther stupid question.” Bobo said, laughing after he said it. Mocking with his way of speaking tended to come off extremely confusing, but he understood it well and fine. And because of this he just didn’t care.


Bobo leaned forward and began to step out into the street. The sun began touching his skin as he was now in the street. He didn’t bother looking at any of the other people as he began confident and strong strides over the dirt road, with the rifle on his shoulder.

[Ray Hudson]

Bobo’s response didn’t make a lot of sense to Ray, but he did understand that he was ready. When the two of them reached the building they stood on opposite ends of the double doors. Ray looked around, making sure that no one was paying them any mind. He turned to Bobo and made a nodding motion towards the crowd. This implied that he wanted him to watch the people for a moment. Ray faced the wall and pulled an object out of his coat. Afterwards he pulled something out of his pocket and began to fiddle around with the two things. Ray’s motions were slow and he looked over his shoulders several times.

After completing what he was doing Ray turned around while keeping both hands behind his back. He was holding something and was hiding it with the cover of his coat and back. At this point he was forced to just wait.

[Bishop Morse]

The box shaped aircraft continued to came in low behind the row of buildings, which were in front of Bobo and Ray when they had been sitting on the bench. It stopped suddenly over the dirt, which was kicking up all over beneath it. The craft then dropped slowly towards the ground, and then connected with it. There were no docking clamps or terminal pad, but this sort of town wouldn’t have them. The engines on the craft began to die off with a progressively lower growing moan, which bellowed from the side. Before the craft was a small, raised, cement platform, which was connected to the building just to the left of the craft. It was clearly a loading dock. On it stood a man in a gray uniform with a submachine gun slung around his shoulder. He was waving his hands horizontally in a defiant manner while shaking his head from side to side while mouthing the word “no”. But his words went unheeded, as the craft which was before him was now settled on the ground.


The side door of the craft slid open quickly. A man wearing a dark black coat, with long blonde hair running down his back stepped outside. He was digging into his coat pocket for something, though not with a look of urgency. The man in the gray uniform quickly moved towards, stepping off the loading dock.

”Hey, Hey, you can’t land here!” He yelled towards the man who had stepped off the cargo shuttle.

The blonde man turned his head and looked towards him, with a bit of a snide smile on his face. ”Ah, shit, I’m sorry” He said. But just after finishing, he quickly ripped his hand from his coat revealing a LeMat Revolver, it’s barrel pointed right towards the man approaching him.


*BANG*


The man in the gray uniform had his head thrown back. His whole body was erect for only a moment before crashing to the ground. The man holding the revolver walked casually over towards the body holding the revolver in his right hand. Behind him, a man with long dark brown hair stepped out of the cargo shuttle. He had a large backpack, and in his hands he held a FAMAS Assault Rifle. The blonde man over the body nudged it with his foot. There wasn’t much point. The head of the body had a gapping whole in it’s face, which was easily several inches wide.


”Sorry Mr… Shaw.” Morse said, after looking at the man’s nametag. He snapped the Revolver down, dropping the shell of a 16 gauge shot down next to the body. Reaching into his pocket he slipped in a new shell, and snapped the revolver back together. He reached into his coat once more with his left hand and out he pulled an identical revolver to the one in his right.

Morse then turned to face the man with the long hair and backpack. He was working quickly, on one knee, at the small backdoor. Beside it there was a larger loading door, but the smaller, basic metal door, was more practical. He had placed a large metal disk on the door and was tinkering with it. He finally clicked a few things on it, and stood up.

“It’s all ready.” Scruggs said standing up from beside the door. He picked up the assault rifle, and put his backpack on.


”Well, come over here then.” Morse said calmly as he moved away from the loading dock.

Scruggs hopped off the cement pad, and moved over where Morse was standing. They both leaned back against the outer wall of the building, facing the shuttle they had come in on. Scruggs held up a small cylinder with a button on top. Morse reached out and clicked the top of it with his index finger.


*BOOM*


The mining charge Scruggs had placed on the door detonated with a loud bang, which rang out. Dust and sand kicked up everywhere as the shockwave had forced it away. After a few moments the dust cleared enough to see the cement slab, and the wall the door was attached to were completely scorched. The door however, was completely gone, and the lining of the wall and hinges were completely cracked and broken.


”After you.” He said to Scruggs. So Scruggs started moving towards the door. As he did, Morse walked towards the shuttle. He opened the side door again, and put his revolvers back in his coat. Reaching inside only for a moment, he grabbed an AR24s Alliance Assault rifle. He then shut the shuttle door, and began walking towards the hole they had blown in the door.

[Ray Hudson]

It wasn’t long after Ray had finished loading his UMP that he heard the loud explosion. The signal was heard by both Ray and Bobo and they were both prepared. Ray’s head snapped to Bobo and he gave him a quick nod. Ray’s arms moved from his back, revealing his SMG, and pulled its stock out of its folded position. He turned towards the double doors, switching the safety on his gun to fully automatic, and grasped the handle with his left hand. Ray opened the door and entered the building.

Men and woman in the building were looking around and many of them were making their confusion abundantly clear. They were loudly asking questions that they would soon have the answers to. Ray scanned the room for obstacles and found them swiftly. Two armed men in grey uniforms were to the left of him. The first one was ordering everyone in the room to calm down while the second searched the room for anything to label the cause of the commotion. The second man in grey turned around just in time to see the face of his killer. Ray opened fire and several rounds entered the security officer’s body. As he stumbled backward and fell to the ground, he fired two bursts from his weapon at the wall next to him. The other security officer that was shouting orders turned and saw the two intruders and quickly turned and fired his weapon. His efforts were in vane, for Ray had already fired a horizontal stream of bullets at the man. All but one of Ray’s shots connected, but that one round was enough to put an end to the security officer’s life. A .45 ACP round pierced the man’s throat and exited out the back end. The shots fired from the guards weapon missed Ray narrowly and entered the wall behind him. The security officer’s new smoker’s hole began leaving a pool of blood beneath him. There was nothing he could do but gargle his incomprehensible final words. They were alive, but the two men desperately needed immediate medical attention. They would not receive it. Sadly the only medical professional there at the time was on the side that sent them to the eternal abyss. All they could do was lie down and bleed.

The aroma of dirt, blood and gun smoke was enough to make the average persons heart race. Killing a person was enough to cause someone to lose their grip on reality and force them into paralysis. Killing someone could make a person question there action, maybe even become disgusted with themselves for the rest of their days. Ray didn’t give it a second thought. He hadn’t the time to. He hadn’t the desire too.

Several men and woman in the bank shouted after the gun shots were exchanged. Several thrust their heads down and a few simply watched in horror. Before being given the option to run Ray fired a succession of shots at the ceiling above their heads. Ray immediately followed this by shouting “GET ON THE FUCKING FLOOR!! YOU HEAR ME!!” As he yelled this he made his way to the desk in the center of the civilians. He jumped on top of the desk and fired another burst of shots around them, this time at the floor around them. “ON THE GROUND NOW!!”

Noticing that his thirty round magazine was dangerously close to being empty, Ray reloaded. He kept a sharp eye on everyone as he did this. He knew that if one of them chose to run he would be able to reload fast enough to put an end to their life. With his UMP now full, Ray was now able to watch over the civilians without much worry. He paced back and forth on top of the desk, pointing his weapon at each of the civilians without discrimination.

[Bishop Morse]

In the Lobby


Having crashed through the doors hard and heavy, Bobo was scanning the room for threats. He moved forward directly into the group of people. He had a good concept of “cover”, and there was nothing better to hide behind then innocent people. Guards wouldn’t shoot them, and Bobo wasn’t exactly planning on it either. It was a good buffer zone, but any one of these people would be too scared to move. And if they did, they were going to be put to the floor and not brought back up.


Then suddenly something caught Bobo’s eye. The tellers had only a set of small metal bars protecting them from the outside world. But behind them at a hallway to their left there was a man in a gray uniform charging up towards the front to see what all the commotion was. Bobo wasn’t one to waste time. He brought his rifle up to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. Then worked the level, and pulled it again, and then once more. The gray uniformed man was struck hard in the chest. Then again in the shoulder, and the last in the heart. It was enough to have the man rethink running, and more then likely living.


Bobo then turned around and looked at Ray. This was as far as this part went.

”Any movin’ in a way aint right, I come back in here.” Bobo said as he started moving towards the door. He loaded in the four shots he’d fired out as he pushed them open. Once outside, he hid the rifle behind him, and started to look around. The double doors were shut, and you couldn’t quite see anything. But if anyone came up to get in, they’d have to deal with Bobo first.


The Rear Corridor


Morse and Scruggs entered through the hole, which had been blown in the back entrance. They walked through, and they could see flashes at the end of the hall, in addition to sprays of gunfire. Beside them were a series of doors. As they walked by they counted four. Scruggs kept his assault rifle forward. Morse on the other hand held his with only one hand, and it was pointed towards the ceiling. He was looking at each individual door and reading the tag. Finally he got to the one he was looking for. It read “President”.


He turned the handle to the door and let himself in. Before him sat an older, overweight man. He had tiny little glasses on, a well made suit, and nicely parted hair. Morse walked right into the office, and pointed the gun at him.

”Hey there Mr…..Harrington.” He said reading the name plate which was on the desk.

The man had a look of horror on his face, and seemed to fumble for the words.

“Who are you!?” The man asked in a fearful tone. He was clearly not prepared for what was going on.

”Now that don’t matter much at the moment. What does matter is I got this big rifle here, and I got an associate out in the lobby with one just as big. Difference is his is pointed at all those nice people out front. So lets you, me take a walk.” Morse had an uncomfortably friendly tone. It was as though he was talking to a man he’d known for quite some time, but really he had no idea who this man was. But that didn’t matter.


The man stumbled to his feet, and Morse grabbed him by the shoulder. He walked him out into the hallway. Together, he, Scruggs, and the man walked out into the lobby, from a hallway which was just beside the caged in tellers desk. Morse stopped, centered in front of everyone, and held his weapon up so everyone could see it.

”Alright ladies n’ gentlemen, this hear is Mr. Harrington. He is the manager of the Van-Zant bank in this town. Currently, he is not only in possession to the keys to everything in this building, he is also in possession of the key to your lives, as well as you all are. Everyone cooperates, we all go home happy. But if anyone here decides they want to try to take a walk towards the door…. Well I got fifty little friends in this gun, and they’d love to get to know you inside and out.” After he was done Morse moved Mr. Harrington with him to the side entrance to the teller’s area. ”Now Mr. Harrington, lets take a tour a the premises. Open this door up.” He demanded of the man.


He looked worriedly at Morse, but then quickly pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, and opened up the door. Morse had Scruggs move through first, but he and the fat man both followed after. They were still able to see out into the lobby from the other side of the desk. If anyone tried to do anything, they would learn quickly that it was a very ill-advised idea.

[Ray Hudson]

As was expected, Bobo was able to carry his own weight in a less frantic manner than Ray. He made his way out of the building and Ray kept watching over the people in the lobby. When the president was seen walking into the lobby, Ray set his sights on him. After noticing Bishops gun, he lowered his weapon. After informing the people of their situation, Bishop made his way to a different room.

“Wait a minute, were not robbing these poor people are we?” Ray called out in a sarcastic tone while the President searched for the correct key. Ray’s joke was cruel and tasteless, which was to be expected of him. Most would consider him a monster for making that remark and Ray knew this and didn’t care. He never did bother with the opinions of others much. Anyone who remotely knew him was aware of his crude mannerisms and inappropriate nature.

An older man wearing a grey hat and an orange jacket began reaching for the inside of his jacket. Noticing this Ray pointed his gun at the man’s direction. “Whoa, hey hey hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ray asked in a loud tone.

The man looked at him with horror in his eyes like a child who just got caught passing notes in class. “I-I’m just getting a uhhh…handkerchief f-f-“ The man was stuttering and seemed certain that if he didn’t get this sentence out he would most definitely be shot. As he said this, the hand that was reaching into his jacket was up in the air while his other hand slowly opened his jacket, revealing a small white and green handkerchief in his inside pocket. “for my w-“ To the man’s right was a middle aged woman with tears streaming down her face

The man was suddenly interrupted by Ray “Shut up, just SHUT UP! I don’t care just cut that shit out. That goes for the rest of you. I don’t want you fiddling around in your jackets. If I see it again I’m gonna kill you and everyone around you.”

Ray began to pace back and forth on the desk, keeping an eye on everyone.

[Bishop Morse]

From the other side of the counter, Morse heard Ray’s very sarcastic question and felt somewhat compelled to answer. ”Mr. Jellyfish, I’m just here to test the security of a place like this is all.” He said through the bars on the counter. As he did he moved the large man forward. He was a bit difficult to maneuver, as he was trembling incessantly. It was beginning to bother Morse a bit because he didn’t want to have to be dealing with a man who was in a panic. Though it was an effective tool, and an expected outcome, he felt he could work better without it.

”Mr. Harrington, you gotta calm down.” Morse said, stopping the man by the counter and looking him right in the eye. ”Do I seem upset right now? No. Cus’ if I was, that would make this way harder. You bein so jittery’s only makin’ this worse ya know? So just breathe in and out, and your gonna be fine. Ya with me?” Morse spoke almost hysterically calm. It was such an unusual situation, and he understood that. But he was calm, so he didn’t see any reason why other people shouldn’t.


“Uh….uh….. y…y…yes, I believe so.” the fat man said. It was only just after the man said that, that Ray was shouting in the lobby just on the other side of the counter they were behind. This caused the man to jump, scared that he was about to witness someone being killed.

Morse noticed this and patted the large, well dressed man, on the back. ”Don’t worry bout’ Eric the Jellyfish out there, you just come with me.” He said moving him forward again.


Scruggs standing before him had his assault rifle at his shoulder and was aiming at man who was laying on the ground. There was a gun near him, but he was too busy holding his shoulder with his hand. It was bleeding considerably, and he needed medical attention. He was rocking back and forth, as the pain was undoubtedly unbearable.


“YOU, YOU SHOT ME!” The man yelled. He was clearly angry about his current disposition, but no one could blame him for that.


Scruggs turned his head and looked at Morse. His eyes were a bit wide and he said. ”No I didn’t!”


Morse looked at the man and considered the situation. ”No, he didn’t. Looks like Bob the Scott did this one.” Morse said rather matter-of-factly.


”Oh God, it hurts.” The man moaned as he rocked on the floor. It was rather pathetic to see how the man was coping, as his wound didn’t look that bad all things considered.


”What’s his name?” Morse asked the President of the bank.

“This is, uh, Mr. Haddi Fah’ad, he’s with the security staff.” Mr. Harrington answered. He seemed to be calming down, but he was still clearly on edge.

”Ya I figured. Right, Mr. Fayhad” Morse said pronouncing the name wrong intentionally. ”I’m gonna need you to take my friend here to your security room. So if you’d be so kind as to stand up and take him there.” Morse said pointing his assault rifle down towards the man. ”You can leave that gun right there on the floor, as well as that pistol there in that holster”


The man on the ground carefully un-holstered his pistol and laid it on the ground, beside the gun already on the floor. He then slowly got to his feet. He was becoming more compliant as he apparently considered his options while he was one the floor. If he fought, he’d get shot, if he did as was asked, he might get out alright.


”It’s…this way.” He said bringing pointing towards a hallway to his left.


Morse nodded his head towards it and Scruggs walked forward with his assault rifle, cautiously moving the man in first. Morse then looked in the room and saw a large dolly. It was clearly used for loading heavy valuables which were likely in the safety deposit room. He moved the man over to it and grabbed his right hand. ”Now, Mr. Harrington, you are going to keep,” he put the right hand on he dolly’s handle and then did the same thing with his left. ”your hands on this dolly, till I say other wise. Now come on back here to the front with me. Were gonna take a look at your vault.” He said pulling him back towards the counter.

[Ray Hudson]

“No,no,no,no,no,” A child was being held in its mother’s arms. The mother stroke her child’s long blonde hair while it chanted the simple word ‘no’. This had been going on since Ray had shot in the air and ordered them all to the ground. Ray had tried to ignore it but it had gotten to the point where he started to be bothered by it.

“What is she demon possessed? Make her stop.” Ray demanded.The mother looked back at him with a gaze that could dry an ocean. She looked back at her child, who had been wearing a flowered sun dress.

“I can’t make him stop” The mother said.

Ray became annoyed and it showed on his face. Her looked into her eyes with a violent expression “And why not?” He asked in a deep and somewhat raspy voice.

“Because he’s panicking.” The mother swiftly replied.

“WERE ALL PANICKING!!” Was heard from across the lobby. A rather large man resting on a wall had yelled this out. His face was red and his hair was almost completely absent.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP PASTRY SHOP! NO ONE ASKED YOU!” Ray shouted, pointing at the man. The large man looked down in fear and slight embarrassment. Ray’s patience was dwindling and he began to consider killing hostages just to keep them quiet. Ray calmed down and his violent stare returned to the mother. “So she’s panicking?” Ray asked her

“Yes. He’s panicking.” She reiterated. The chanting of ‘No’ was still coming out of the child’s mouth.

Ray noticed something odd about the mother’s answer. He looked at the child and noticed its long blonde hair and flowered sundress. The child looked to be about a nine year old girl. “He?” Ray asked curiously. The mother merely stared at him with disgust and genuine hatred. She knew exactly what Ray was thinking. “That don’t look like no he to me.” Ray stated.

The mother looked down at her son's head and continued to rub his hair. “Josh likes to wear his sister’s dresses and wear mommy’s wigs.” The woman clarified.

Ray’s face showed confusion and after a moment of staring at the woman and her son Ray turned away and muttered to himself “Where the hell am I.” After turning around Ray noticed something that bothered him. A man who was lying on his stomach was slowly pulling his revolver out from its holster. Seeing this Ray immediately aimed his UMP at the man. After a moment of taking aim Ray fired a single shot from his gun at the man’s buttocks. The bullet entered the man’s left cheek and he screamed in pain. He dropped his gun and put both hands on the wound and this was followed by loud screams of anguish. Ray walked quickly to the man and retrieved the revolver. He looked at the revolver in his left hand and looked back at the man. Ray was furious and something within him urged him to end the man’s life. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YA GONNA DO WITH THIS HUH!? You gonna shoot me with it!” Ray screamed at the man holding the revolver in the air. Ray kept his UMP pointed at the man’s head.

“AGHHHH! No No!!” The man cried in pain but still answered Ray’s question.

“Are you lying to me!?” Ray asked

“NO NO NO!!” The man yelled, hoping to God that Ray wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“Jesus Christ, Your starting to sound like the tranny over there!” Ray pointed out. At this point he was looking around the room, making sure no one was taking advantage of the situation by running away or trying to attack him personally. Noticing the how vulnerable the situation was, he decided to end the furious attack on the man.

“I swear, I swear that I wasn’t gonna.” The man continued to try to defend himself.

Ray took a deep breath and stared at the man for a while trying to decide what to do with him. Ray leaned a little forward and held the revolver in front of the man’s face. “This is mine now.” Ray said. With that he made his way back to the desk and hopped back on top of it, placing the revolver in his pocket after switching on the safety. The man was still groaning in agony and pain. Ray looked around the room, making sure no one else would attempt another act of heroism. The looks that people shot him varied. Some looked at Ray with total horror, some with hate and one with what seemed to be pity.

[Bishop Morse]

Inside the Bank

Morse brought the bank president to the front of the bank behind the tellers. He looked through at the people on the other side, and was very much aware of what Ray was doing there. He seemed to have them pretty well under control. Fear was a fancy tool in situations like this, and worked perfectly during them. People weren’t prone to try stupid things when they were too scared to move. That didn’t matter much to him however, because if they tried something stupid, they would have a lot of iron teaching them that it was a bad decision. Either way, he still had things to accomplish, so he would continue with his part of the job. Having brought the President up to the front with the loading dolly, he looked at the single door behind the tellers.

Behind it, the vault sat. But in all likeliness there would be more security beyond the door that stood before him. So there was only one way to proceed. He looked at the long teller desk sat. Upon it there were name placards, much like the one the president had. He memorized the first names quickly and stated them.

”Sharon, Emily” Morse said to the woman standing there before him. They both jumped upon hearing their names, as though each thought it was about to be their time. Fortunately, it wasn’t. ”I’m gonna need you to open this door and walk on inside. There somebody in there already?” Morse asked, fairly certain that someone would be directly guarding the vault.

The blonde one, Sharon, nodded her head. But neither spoke a word. It wasn’t a surprise that neither wanted to speak. It was hard to state information when ones voice had left them. The situation they where would easily cause such a thing to happen. ”Mmmk, let me take care of that then. What’s the guys name?” Morse asked the president.

The president hesitated a moment then spoke up ”Uh… I believe its….. Garret Warrens.” He said, still with a bit of fear in his tone, as he was concerned that such information was about to get the poor man inside killed.

The door before the vault room was made of wood, to match the décor outside. But it was undoubtedly an illusion, and one Morse wasn’t going to fall for. He approached the door and knocked on it with his left hand rather loudly his other hand was on his assault rifle which could be pointed and fired at the people with him at any time. ”Hey Garret! Me and some others are gonna be commin’ in there for a personal chat. I don’t wanna be seein any guns up when I walk in there. So I’m sendin in your fine co-workers first. So best figure out quick what you wanna do here.” Morse said. The message was intended to give the man an idea of exactly what would happen if he didn’t drop his gun. If he shot first, he’d be hitting one of the tellers, and if he didn’t drop his gun, Morse might fire on them all. So it was a fairly easy puzzle to solve.

Morse moved the black haired teller, Emily, forward to the door. ”Right, open it up.” Morse said. Emily looked back with a look of horror on her face. ”Don’t worry, he’ll figure it out.” Morse said to put her at ease. It didn’t likely have any effect, but it might do something. Emily turned the handle and opened the door. On the other side the lighting was florescent, and had a very different color then the rest of the building. Inside a man was visible, and he was holding at his side a submachine gun and in the other hand a pistol. Neither was able to be fired, so it was all clear. Morse then ushered in the rest of the people he was watching into the room.

The room was very strange when compared to the rest of the building. Instead of wood, it was all metal, with the exception of the door. The entire ceiling seemed to be a big lighting pad. But what was most noticeable, was that on the other side of the room, there was a large circular metal door attached to the wall. It was clearly very thick, and locked in tight. Morse looked at the man with his guns in his hands who looked fairly scared. ”Set em on the ground and slide em over, one at a time.” Morse said pointing the AR-24s at the man. It was very evident that if he tried something, that Morse would shred him. So he complied, setting the submachine gun on the ground, sliding it over, and repeating the process with the pistol. Morse pocketed the pistol, and slung the submachine gun over his shoulder.

”Now, Mr. President, pop the cork on the enlarged entryway.” Morse said, pointing the rifle at him, now holding both hands on it. ”And do it quickly. You’ve got 18 seconds.” Morse stated the last part with an air of seriousness. Of course he wasn’t actually going to shoot him in 18 seconds, but he the fear would fuel the fire a bit.


Out in front of the Bank

Bobo stood in front of the bank, to the right of the double door entry way which was closed. He had his arms folded, but his right hand was hidden in his jacket. Behind him his rifle was hidden by his body, as he leaned against the wall with it behind him, the barrel running behind his left leg. He had a serious look on his face, but he looked rather relaxed as he stood there, so not overly suspicious. He observed the street before him. There weren’t many people there, as likely people had scattered after hearing the gunshots. Those that were there, likely hadn’t been around as it started. But it was a calm air which wasn’t likely to remain.


And sure enough, coming down the street to his left, there were three men riding on horse back towards the bank. They all had longer coats, but what stood out most was the glint of sunlight that hit the shiny badges on their chests. The response of the law was only to be expected, though it was odd that it was coming this late. But that wasn’t much of an issue. Bobo reached behind him and grabbed the rifle, placing his finger by the trigger. His right hand however remained in his coat. The men on the horses stopped just in front of the bank, and began the process of dismounting. That advantage was all Bobo needed.


With an extremely fluid series of motions, Bobo pulled his Calico M950 automatic pistol out. With his left hand he brought the rifle out from behind him. A quick stream of bullets began to poor from his auto-pistol into the lead lawman who was at the middle. His rifle discharged a shot into the man to his left, and struck him in the chest. Both the lead man, and the one to his left fell. The other quickly was bringing up a rifle, but not before Bobo fired five rounds from the pistol. Now in the street 3 men lay dead, and Bobo checked both directions of the street. No one else came, and Bobo walked towards the doors to the bank, and stepped back inside.

[Ray Hudson]

People were still recovering from Ray’s violent act against the man with the heroic endeavor. The man still moaned in pain on the ground while keeping his hand on the wound. An older woman sitting very close to the desk that Ray was standing by kept staring into his eyes. She wore a white blouse and her grey, balding hair went down to her shoulders. The hair was stringy and messy. The old woman had something to say and judging by her face it seemed very important to her.

Ray was beginning to get impatient. The hostages were making it difficult for him to remain calm and he suspected that they would continue to be a problem for him. He kept a sharp eye on the prisoners to ensure that they did not continue to make his job more difficult. The hostages seemed more cooperative after witnessing one of them being shot, on top of the three security guards.

Several shots were heard outside of the bank and Ray made a few quick looks behind him as he heard them. The shots ended quickly and Bobo made an entrance. This made Ray ease up a little because now he didn’t have to watch the prisoners by himself.

“How long till they send more?” Ray asked. Bobo probably didn’t have a specific answer but anything would do as long as Ray could comprehend his answer.

[Bishop Morse]

In the Lobby


Bobo stepped back inside and set his back against the wall by the door. Having shut them on his way in, there wasn’t much more to be done. He reached into his pocket and slipped a new bullet into his rifle. ”Don’t know, Don’t much care.” He said, setting the rifle down and discharging the clip from his auto-pistol. ”Can say es’ though. Aint nun’ a them what come ridin’ up on em’ pretty pony’s gonna be doin’ nuthin’ but re-thinkin a bit a breathin’." Bobo said, laughing after he did. His bright smile of success didn’t fade as he snapped a new clip into the weapon. He holstered it, and took a position by a window watching outside for something which may be coming there way.


In the Vault


The President of the bank looked terrified at his captor, who once again held the assault rifle in his hands towards him. Was he seriously only giving him 18 seconds to open up the vault? What if it took longer then the allotted time? Would he kill the others standing there? Would he kill him? All these questions poured into his mind in a matter of moments. To cope his mouth moved up and down, as though he was trying to form words but no voice was there to back them up. But what did happen was his hand fumbled in his pocket. When he removed his hand, out came a set of clear plastic, toothpick looking devices. But at the ends of them were different shapes. The portly man quickly scurried over to the front of the vault, and placed the keys into various slots, in what seemed to be a very precise order and array. Finally he entered in a number combination on a small digital pad. It was a surprisingly long code, but after it was in, suddenly there was a buzzing sound.


>ERRRRRRRRRRRRRR<


It made everyone jump. Even Morse’s eyes went wide for a moment, as it hadn’t been expected. But as everyone had thoughts of the round man, called Mr. Herrington, failing to enter in the right code and having killed them all, there was a great series of clicking and snapping. Then suddenly there was the metallic whine of hydraulics and the massive round door began to swing slowly open.

”Well Mr. President, by my count you were 3 seconds overdue.” Morse said with a very serious look on his face. It was a good cause for fear. And the people all started to shudder in terror.

”But…. But I…..” Mr. Harrington said. Water was leaking from his forehead in beads, that made him look incredibly uncomfortable as it wrinkled in shock.

”Relax Mr. Harrington.” Morse said, his face suddenly looking very pleasant, with a sort of snide amusement. ”Aint no one here gives a shit how long it took. Nice effort though.” Morse finished taking a step forward. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly came back to the reality of the fact that they were being held at gunpoint. ”Right, people, let’s move on in.” Morse ordered very calmly, motioning with the weapon in his hand.


The group slowly entered the heavily guarded room. There was a great deal of small little drawers lining the walls. They were a made of a shiny metal, but they had no lock. It was a very peculiar collection, but it was in absolutely perfect alignment. Morse stepped over towards the right wall to the side. He slipped his fingers through the small opening on between the handle, squeezing it. Finally, he pulled lightly on the drawer, and it slowly brought the small case out. Inside the small drawer, was a stack of bills. Alliance credits in a perfectly lined stack, moving all the way up to the top.


”Ha ha, bingo.” Morse said, announcing the discovery of his prize. But he had no time to admire it. He had to finish up, and get out before they got into serious trouble. ”Alright, here’s how we do this. Mr. President, stay hangin’ onto the dolly. The rest of you, stack em up. Just go, go, go, till I say stop.” Morse said, taking a step back towards the entrance to the vault. He didn’t want to get hit from behind while helping load it up. And he had perfectly good slave hands for the meantime. It was the guard of the vault that went to work first. Morse found it ironic, that the man working the hardest to give him the money, was the one who was charged with guarding it in the first place. And one by one, they removed the little drawers, and placed them on top of the dolly.

[Ray Hudson]

Bobo’s words were almost like a different language entirely. Trying to figure out what he said half the time was just a wasted effort because you were likely to still be wrong. Ray just made the presumption that Bobo would take care of whatever was a problem. His eyes panned over the people lying on the floor. They were cowering, and whimpering, and whining. But there wasn’t much else for them to do, it wasn’t like they were all going to sit crossed legged with big smiles on their faces. However he was still a bit on edge, and his mind drifted towards the gun he had confiscated from the “hero” earlier. The man had a weapon, perfectly concealed, and it was mainly on luck that Ray had seen it at all. And there were automatic weapons lying on the floor. It surprised Ray a bit that he hadn’t thought of it before, but almost surprised him more that nobody else had.

He looked around, his eyes a bit wide, trying to figure out what do about the problem. He needed to get all the weapons into one place, and away from the people. But he just wasn’t sure how. And weapons were heavy, so he didn’t want to hold them on his shoulder. So he tried thinking of a plan, and looked at the people for some sort of inspiration. For some reason his eye kept falling back to a man with a large burlap sack on his back. It was very odd to see one of that size, and in a bank of all places. He apparently had a sort of strap which ran across his chest. And then a plan came into his mind. He could just put the guns in the bag, and it’d be out the public’s hand. But what was better, is that they’d be in one place, in case they needed them for later. So Ray marched right on over to the man, keeping his weapon trained on him.

”Gimme’ that bag” Ray yelled, grabbing the strap which started at the man’s right shoulder. ”Gimme’ the bag!” Ray yelled again, as he was struggling to pry it off the man. While laying on floor, the man, who clearly a number of years older then Ray, tried to assist him. As the man placed his hand on the shoulder strap, Ray grabbed the bottom so he could pull it up quickly. It had a very strange texture, like what was inside was very loose. But Ray had very little time to think about such a thing, as the bag was stripped from the man’s possession, and he yanked it into the air from the bottom.

Suddenly the top of the bag, which had tight while it was worn, came loose and the contents was free to fall. Little brown ovals spilled from the opening, like water out of a bowl. It was amazing how dense the stream was as it roared out of the bag, racing towards the floor. They pelted the ground, with a light tone similar to a rain stick. They rippled across the wooden, and rolled everywhere. People kept their heads covered, unsure of what was happening.

Ray, was suddenly infuriated, more than had been before. He watched as what was previously in the bag went everywhere, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. With anger in eyes, and his muscles tense he yelled. ”What the fuck is this!? Beans!?” Ray yelled. He was absolutely in awe of the fact the this man had walked into a bank, with a sack of beans. ”What were gonna do with these IN A BANK!" Ray continued. He released his weapon, the sling catching it as it dropped, and scratched his head quickly, as if he was digging an answer. ”What the fuck is wrong with you people!” Ray yelled, emptying out the bag the rest of the way. He stepped out from between the people, but tripped on his way. ”God damnit!” He yelled passively, regaining his balance. When things went wrong, they just didn’t stop. It was like train of troubles, that just never ended. These had to be the worst hostages ever, but at least it was going to be over soon. He stopped over the two dead men, whom lay on the floor to the right of all the hostages, and placed their weapons inside of it, including the pistols as he did. He then reached into his pocket and set in the pistol he’d confiscated earlier. He slung it over his back and brought his own weapon back up to watch over the people there.

[Bishop Morse]

Slowly, and steadily the dolly was stacked up with the little drawers full of money. It was like watching the Alliance Engraving Department’s output of a minute, though in all likeliness there was more then that which came out of it. But it wasn’t an unreasonable estimate given the stacks of money, which were just piling up. Stack by stack was set upon the dolly, and as they got more comfortable with it, the bank employees worked a bit faster. If they hadn’t been held at gunpoint, you’d almost think this was a fine type of work for them.


Suddenly from outside the vault the sound of footsteps was heard. Morse turned his head, and shifted his rifle to point at the entrance. Fortunately it was just Scruggs, bringing up his wounded captive.


”Did ya do good Zippy?” Morse asked, wondering if Scruggs was able to make their being there invisible.

”Yup yup. He tried to tell me that he had deleted it by removing the digital receiver unit, on the feed out reader. But I said “That’s not how you do it”, and I pulled out the chronical read out center, while erasing the….” Scruggs was cut off right in the middle of what he was saying.

”Did you get the recording?” Morse asked. He was well aware that Scruggs knew what he was doing. But technical things were Scruggs’ department, and things just went easier when they stayed that way.

Scruggs held up a small, clear, plastic data reader. ”Right here. Fried the last 17 hours along with it…. accidentally” Scruggs said, somewhat disappointed in himself for that, but at the same time a bit dementedly pleased.


Morse then turned around and looked at the dolly. It was quite full at this point. The little drawers were just placed all over. There was so much money on it. They hadn’t been placed in a very good array on the dolly. But with how much there was, it was going to be difficult to move it without having some of it falling off. And they were running out of time. He turned to walk up behind Mr. Harrington, while the rest of people continued to load up the dolly.


”The bank is insured right?” Morse asked very quietly so that none of the others could here.

The bank president, who had calmed down incredibly from when this ordeal started, looked back over at his captor. ”Uh, yes. Alliance standard up to 43 percent.” He said in a very calculated way. This was the real banker coming through, the one that had been scared into the back of his mind.

”Good.” Morse said, turning to face the others. ”Ok team, load what’s in your hand up and step outa the shiny room here.” Morse said. The group followed his order and placed the drawers which were in their hands down onto the dolly. And then slowly, altogether the group moved outside.


Morse led them out of the vault room, with the dolly pushing president at the back, and Scruggs was at the front. It was funny to know that everything was working out exactly as planned. But things always tended to be that way for them. They came out of the vault room, and to the right, out from behind the counter. Morse placed his hand on the presidents shoulder, signaling him to stop. The rest of the people continued to be moved out into the lobby, Morse following behind them.


”Right ladies and gentlemen, it has been…” Morse paused looking at all the people on the ground and the strange brown ovals in between them all. ”What the hell are those? Beans?” Morse asked with an extreme air of confusion washing over him. ”To hell with it. People it’s been tons of fun, and you’ve been great. With any luck, you’ll remember this for next time, and things’ll go much smoother.” Morse finished, looking up and Ray and Bobo, and tilting his head signifying they should leave.


”Mmmk, ladies, you n’ Mr. President here are gonna accompany us outside. Care to lead the way.” Morse said pointing his assault rifle at them to give them the incentive. They both quickly started moving forward, and Morse pushed the President right behind them, and they all began to move towards the large hole in the wall through which Morse and Scruggs had created to get in.

[Ray Hudson]

Ray kept watch over the group of people lying on the floor. Things weren’t moving, and it was very calm, but he could swear that they were getting antsy. Some of them were twitching, shifting positions, moving their arms and legs. It was getting to a point where he was thinking about staging another example so that they would understand that he was in charge here. But what he would do, short of killing one of them, wasn’t coming to mind.

And then on the other side of counter he could see a line of people, being lead by Scruggs. He was relieved, as their presence may take those little ideas of trying something stupid out of the heads of those, which were lying on the floor.

”About fuckin’ time.” Ray muttered to himself, shifting the bag of weapons on his back.

He noticed that both Morse and Scruggs were holding weapons on their backs, which they hadn’t walked in with. But that didn’t bother him much, if anything it meant that there was less of a danger walking out then there had been walking it. He relaxed a bit as Morse started giving his finishing talk. He continued quickly, and beckoned he and Bobo over to him. So Ray, keeping his weapon ready, walked over to rest of group.


Ray whipped around one more time to make sure that everyone was still on the floor. Just because they were leaving, didn’t mean they were allowed to get up and move about as they pleased. So he made sure they weren’t trying to get up, and then turned back around as the group moved out. He looked at the cart and his eyes lit up. ”Wow, that’s a lot of scratch.” He said with a bit of shock and enthusiasm. He knew how much money they estimated they’d be walking out with, but he hadn’t considered what it would look like. After seeing this he relaxed a bit, holding his submachine gun up with just one hand, and he continued to walk forward with everyone else.

[Bishop Morse]

”That it is.” Morse said as he watched his group get moved forward. Indeed it was a lot of ‘scratch’. They had pulled at least a third of the drawers out, and though it wasn’t half, it was still moving more money then any of the crew had likely ever seen at one time moving into their pockets. But that was the point of something like this, walking in with risk, and the reward was a great addition to your finances. However the risk which was supposed to be hear wasn’t that great of an obstacle. This plan was conceived to leave those that would stop them unprepared, and therefore defenseless to stop them. And that was why they were walking out with such ease.


As they continued past the offices, which Scruggs and Morse had come past on their way in, Morse wondered what might be on the other side of the hole. Wondering if the authorities had arrived, if the shuttle was still there, if there was a town rabble. In either case he couldn’t afford to be taken by surprise. He brought his assault rifle up to his shoulder, and had it pointed it to the back of Mr. Harringtons head. Harrington couldn’t see it, but he didn’t have to. One way or another they were getting out, and that was all that mattered. The others with Morse saw him, and brought their weapons up as well. They got the same idea that something might be waiting for them and were prepared for it.

But when they stepped outside, there was nobody there, just a dusty back ally road. To their right there was a large cargo shuttle. Rubble lay all over the floor from when they had breached through. One of the girls jumped at the sight of a dead body on the floor, the guard which Morse had shot on their way in. Of course that didn’t matter much. ”Come on over to the back friends.” Morse said moving towards the front of the group. He started to look around the street, but everyone had run off. The group followed up behind him towards the back of shuttle. Morse then placed his finger to his ear. ”Double A, open up.” Morse said aloud standing at the back. For a moment nothing happened, but then the rear hatch opened, the hinges near the roof lifting the door up.


Standing there was a blonde man with a sub machine gun. He looked out and sized up everything that was there, and Morse stayed outside with his weapon ready, as Scruggs and Bobo pushed the money onto the craft. The three captives remained there, not sure what to do. Then Scruggs came outside with three little boxes. Each was black, had a little antenna sticking from the top of it, and a few lights. He handed the devices to Morse, who then turned around and looked at his captives and smiled. ”Right Mr. President, this ones for you.” He said handing him one. ”And one for you, and one for you.” Morse finished handing both of the ladies one of the devices.


He then stood back, and one of the lights on each device turned red. Seeing this Morse continued. ”Well, you’ve each been great, and this has been tons of fun. But were gonna have to dash. Now in each of your hands, you’re holding a bomb which is now locked to your heat signature” Morse said. This drew quite a bit of screeching and murmurs of horror from each of them. ”Now don’t worry, this here’s just a bit of a game. Those bombs are set to go off in 8 minutes, if you get too far away from each other, or if you let go.” Morse said, with an arrogant tone, almost as though he was explaining the rules of a contest. ”But here’s how it is, it’s locked onto our signal, so if we get out of range of em’, they’ll deactivate, and you can go about your lives with a smile on your face. Think of it like a game, you hold on long enough and don’t do anything stupid, you get to live. You don’t, and it’ll be quite the Bie Woo Lohng. So good luck. Thanks for all your help Mr. President, good luck with your franchise. And with any luck, we never see each other again.” Morse then turned around leaving them standing there. He boarded the shuttle, and closed the door, waving at them as it shut.


Of course those weren’t really bombs he handed to them, really just an old Retro-filtration guider which Scruggs had taken apart and put together to look ominous for the job. But it was believable enough. Morse ignored the dolly full of money lying in the center of the craft, and walked over to the front where Andy was sitting.

”Take us home Andy, I wanna be surrounded by black so we can count our money.” He said

With a bright smile and a snide laugh Andy activated the engines on the Cargo Shuttle and it lifted up into the air.