Black Friday IC

[Vulture]

OOC here.

PART ONE

YOU ARE HERE

Caleb Farraday held the JC Penney bag close to his leg. Someone looking closely might notice by the swing of the bag that it held something far heavier than a few folded sweaters like the one he had placed on top to cover the true contents, but in this madhouse holiday rush no one was going to look closely.

It seemed half the city was here at Pine Ridge Shopping Center. The yearly orgy of consumerism, the entire day spent shopping and waiting in line before returning home to a dinner of leftover turkey and mashed potatoes, the first of several meals picked from what remained of yesterday's feast. Unnoticed in the rush, Farraday shook his head. Animals. A bunch of fucking watered-down limp-wristed liberal animals. For many of the people around him, this was the hardest thing they'd do all year. Where was the frontier spirit that had once defined America? Where was the drive that had enabled the white race to advance to their rightful glory? Gone, lost in a stream of words like "diversity" and "equality" and "integration." Anyone who cared to watch Farraday's face would have seen a brief twist of hatred across his features.

Shouldering his way through the thick crowd on the concourse, Farraday caught the eye of Morris, seated on a bench. One of the advance guard who had entered the mall in plain clothes and with small concealable weapons. The bulk of the force waited in their vehicles in the vast expanse of parking lot or in the six-story parking garage joined to the building. Let them wait. Their time to storm in would come soon enough.

Farraday drew his iPhone, took a glance at the time. 9:26 AM. Despite the mask of a bored shopper, his mind was racing. He caught Morris' eye again. The man nodded and stood, slow and unhurried, drawing no attention. Morris was good, one of the best. Without discussion, the two men fell in next to one another and worked their way through the throng at a slow, leisurely pace.

Once they reached a side hallway, though, their strides lengthened, their behavior became more furtive. Farraday took what might have been a nervous glance for a lesser man as Morris used a skeleton key to unlock a white-painted door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. No one watching. Both men walked in, the threshold to the labyrinth of storerooms, offices, service hallways, loading docks, and maintenance rooms behind the shops.

They walked like they belonged there, the surest way to deflect suspicion. And in truth, Farraday reflected, they did belong there. They were white, after all. They owned the damn world. A janitor baling trash into a wheeled bin looked up at their approach. Farraday smiled. "Some day, huh?" The janitor mumbled something in assent, returned to his task.

The two men rounded the corner, came to the door labeled SECURITY CENTER. Their destination. It was a little more critical that no one was watching right now. Making sure the janitor didn't suddenly round the corner, Farraday tapped on the door, two quick polite raps. He reached into his bag, wormed his hand past the flannel of the sweater, closed his hand on the haft of his Bowie knife.

The door opened a crack, showing a beefy black man, the nameplate on his white polo revealing his name as Purvis. "Can I help you?" he asked guardedly.

Farraday was happy the man was black. It made it much easier for him to ram the knife into the man's chest, splitting his heart in two. He shoved Purvis' twitching form aside, threw open the door in time to see the other guard in the room jumping up out of his chair. Quick man, good reaction time. It didn't help him in the least as the two .22 rounds crashed into his head. Morris' suppressed Ruger was no louder than a harsh cough.

Farraday grabbed Purvis by the feet, dragged the corpse of the big man further inside the security center. It wasn't much, really. A few chairs, a ready room, three empty cells, an unoccupied office labeled WILLIAM HENDRIX- CHIEF OF SECURITY.

And of course, the control room. A bank of fifteen monitors, each switching to a different view at intervals every twenty seconds. Given the mall's hundreds of CCTV surveillance cameras, it would take some time to cycle through them all if left to run automatically. However, the computer terminals made things much simpler. From there, the mall could be run from their fingertips. Cameras, alarms, doors, security gates- all the bells and whistles.

"Keys to the kingdom," Morris remarked as he sat down at the control terminal, swiping Purvis' card for access. From his own Barnes and Noble bag, he extracted a MAC-10 submachine gun, laid it on the desk next to him for easy access.

"Jones and Little will be here soon to back you up," Farraday said. "Remember, ten exactly. Make sure all of our people get in before you seal the doors. We're all counting on you, man."

"I won't let you down," Morris promised.

Farraday nodded, satisfied he had picked the right man. He wiped clean his knife, put it back inside his bag, moseyed on out of the control room. He had about half an hour to kill.

[TheStinger]

Jack was at a funeral. He was burying one of his own today. One of his fellow Bravo team members, Frank Vega. At the funeral, besides Bravo team there were also Frankie's parents, wife, as well as some close friends. Jack stood along his fellow Bravo team comrades. He was dressed all in black. Black suit, black shirt, black leather shoes, black tie and dark shades. Frank's funeral was a Category 1 funeral, with full honors, since Frank got killed in the line of duty, and was a SWAT for 15 years. After the priest finished, two cops took the american flag away that was over the casket and started folding it. The casket was beying drawn inside as trumpets were singing, beying followed by a firing squad that shot a couple of rounds in the air. After that, Jack rised up from his chair and went over at the edge of hole, where the casket containing Frank's body was in. He takes off his shades as he folded them and kept them tight in his hands.

"My name is Jack Williams. I'm a captain of the local SWAT and leader of Bravo team, in which Frankie was in. I'm an honest man, and I always tell it like it is, no matter what. Unfortunately my honesty wasn't walways appreciated because I lost some friends or people that I cared about. Today I will be honest with all of you. Wether you will like it or not...it's entirely up to you. Frankie was the black sheep of the team. He was having a personality that was hard to deal with. And he caused problems more then once. But despite all that we always treated him like one of our own, like an equal, although there were times when we felt like breaking his face." Said Frank as he paused for a few seconds. "In the end of it all, Frank sacrificed himself to save his team mates and the innocents involved. He died like a hero, and he will be treated like one. I also want to apologise for the commander's absence. He wanted me to tell all of you that he dosen't like funerals, that they're depressing, and quite honestly I don't like them either." Frank put his shades in a pocket of his pants, as he leaned down and took some earth in his left hand as he threw it all over Frank's casket. "Rest in peace brother! We will meet again one day." Frank put his shads back over his eyes and went over to those that folded the american flag, took it and went to Frank's wife, giving her the flag as she took it and hugged Jack.

"If there's anything you will ever need, no matter how small it is, don't hesitate to cal me. You have my phone number, you know where I stay. I promised to Frankie that I will take care of you." She nodded in approval to what Jack said, as he turned around and started leaving the funeral site as two gravediggers were filling the hole with earth, in the sound of trumpets, who were singing funeral songs. Jack went over to his car, a yellow 1970 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. Inside the car, Jack takes one more look at the site, raises the window, starts the car, who's 426 Hemi V8 engine begins to roar mercilessly and leaves the graveyard, heading home back to his apartment to change his clothes.

[adriane]

A chilling ice was spreading throughout her body. It had been there for quite some time, progressively growing every time she saw it. The only thing that combated it was the inferno. It was always sitting inside of her, just a single flame constantly licking at her. Every now and then, it caught the edge of something, took hold, and burned away until there was nothing left. So, as you can see, she didn't have much of a choice in her next actions. Either she could let the ice continue freezing her where she stood, or she could let the fire catch and, if only for a moment, feel something beside cold. And she was so, so sick of being cold.

She watched the smile grow across his face, watched him lean in closer for a hug. She watched his eyes, pretending to be closed, glance around at them. And then she watched his hand slide down the curve down the girl's back and slide into her back pocket. To anyone who didn't know them, they'd shrug at the sight and keep walking. Just another hormonal couple getting ahead of themselves in public, they'd figure. They'd never stop to think that perhaps they weren't. That perhaps they were the best friend and boyfriend of the girl staring behind her in the mirror by the sunglasses rack.

The sight fed the flame, and, unable to resist herself, the girl turned and tapped her other friend on the shoulder. "Hey, how do I look?'' she asked, grinning and raising a thin blonde eyebrow. Ethan gave her a light chuckle and she saw his eyes flicker over her body--despite her question being about the glasses covering her eyes. He matched her grin. "Well, Monty...I'd say you are looking fine."
She grinned, leaning with both elbows back onto the counter. "What are you doing after this?"
He considered her for a moment, his expression undecided between eager agreement and the right choice. "Mont..." A slight frown appeared on his mouth.
"I have the boat tonight. I'll let you drive it..." she tempted, not just referring the her family's yacht.
It was only another second of thinking before grinned again. "Alright, you got me."
She smiled successfully, the fire inside of her burning brightly and, for now, fending off the ice.

The whole lot of teenagers headed out of the shop after that, pushing back into the crazy crowds in the hallway of the mall. Devon reached her and draped a long arm over her shoulders. "Yo, Priscilla!"
Her eyes narrowed. Devon was the only who had missed the memo about using her nickname Monty. She shifted away from him, making an excuse about his arm being on her hair.
"Wanna hang out later?" she questioned tonelessly, already knowing what his answer would be. I can't.
"Aw, damn. You couldn't ask me sooner? I can't, I got shit to do," he lied.
"Like what?" Just shit.
"Just shit! What do you need, my life plan? Damn." He scoffed.
She had known for a long time. About them, of course. They'd been at it for months now. Sneaking around, lying to be together. She had almost caught them once of twice. She thought he knew that she knew. She also supposed he probably knew she had been cheating on him too for the last few weeks.
"Fine, sorry," she muttered grumpily, but leaned into him.
She could've ended it, she supposed. She probably should've. But what was better? To be cheated on?
Or to be lonely?

[Bumblebee848]

Sandra Collins emerged from JC Penny with two bags in hand and a satisfied smile on her face. Her daughter was a good, obedient child, so she didn't have to worry about her trying to sneak peeks of her presents, but she had left her to wait at Starbucks anyways. Of course, Sandra doubted she would even mind. Though Emma was a teenage girl on her prime years, she didn't like to shop, and considered it a hassle if nothing else. Popping her head into the cafe, which was busier than normal with the Black Friday rush, she found the girl pressed up against a corner with a latter in hand, and her nose in a book.
"Emma!" She called, waving to her daughter. Glancing up, Emma sighed in relief as she saw her mom in the doorway, excited to et out of this bustling crowd. Starbucks was one of her few guilty pleasures, but on a day like this, she'd rather avoid it like the plague.

"Can we leave yet?" Emma moaned habitually as she squeezed her way out of the shop,making her mom laugh.
"Sorry hon, we're nowhere near done yet. The morning's only just begun!" Another groan escaped from Emma's lips as her shoulders hunched over.
"Can't I just wait at Barnes and Noble?" She asked hopefully.
"A mother that's willing to take her daughter out and buy anything, and all she wants to do is stick her nose into more books. How did we end up this way? You never even ask me for anything!"
"You know, most mom's would kill to have a daughter like me. I've never met a woman that wants her daughter to ask incessantly for mundane objects. Do you have any idea how much money you save on me? All my friends run around flaunting fifty dollar shoes and bags, and they spend hours begging their mom's to get these things for them." Despite her complaints, Emma was truthfully very excited to spend the day with her mom, despite the less than desirable circumstances. With the twins at home and her new full time job, Sandra almost never had time to spend with Emma, so she would take what she had and make the best of it. "Tell you what, I can compromise. Food court?"
"You had breakfast an hour ago."
"Hey, I'm a growing girl!"
"You're too tall anyways."
"Hey!"

~~~

Meanwhile, back at the Collins household, a pair of devilish six year old twins tore through the house chaotically. Kenny had already managed to get all of his clothes off, and Tammy was slowly getting there, struggling with the buttons of her shirt.

"Hey! Get back here, you little-" Richard stopped, and ran around to the other kitchen entrance, crouching down with open arms as the pair ran straight into his trap. With a grunt, he wrapped each arm around a torso and lifted their giggling forms up. "Oh, you little rascals! Who're my little troublemakers?"

"Daddy!" They squealed, legs kicking wildly. "Let us down, let us down!"

"Ah ah ah, you've been caught! You know what that means?"

"No!" They both squealed, still giggling though their movements grew more alarmed.

"It's time for the Tickle Monster!" The household was filled with happy, and slightly frantic, laughter as he dropped them onto the couch and relentlessly attacked their exposed stomachs with wiggling fingers. It was going to be a long day, taking care of these two without his experienced wife, but he couldn't complain too much. What else could a man ask for, than a day off from that chaos of work to spend with his kids?

~~~

"Come on, come on..." Jessica Davis was laying back on her bed, with the TV on, yet she could not bring herself to relax. She was a reporter, there was no such thing as a break for her. It was Black Friday, and somewhere, something exciting had to be happening. She glanced at her phone over and over again, not even sure what was happening on the TV show that was on. "Oh come on, she's crying again? What the hell is this garbage, people watch this stuff?" Unable to stand her fidgeting fingers any longer, she reached over to grabber phone, and stared at the empty notifications in disappointment. "Come on, news, where are you? If you're happening, someone's got to report you, and that is going to be me. I'll fill these channels with something that matters..." Glancing to her right, she walked her fingers towards her phone again, willing it to come alive with lights and-

Bzzz!

"Yes!" She gasped, snatching the mobile device up. As she unlocked the screen, small loving words lit up the screen.

Want to meet us for dinner tonight? We miss you already! :-)
-Mom <3

"...GOD DAMN IT!"