Upstairs in Leoâs office the hardline phone rings all to itself as Leo, Marcus and the other staff of Club Aether tend to keeping the Club running and taking care of those seeking shelter from the storm. The call is from a local number, only just across the river in Central Point, the Caller ID display reads: ES Holdings, Inc.. As the call rings out, a chipper female voice comes on the voicemail speaker seemingly unphased by the weather outside:
Hi, this is Carla calling from the offices of Elvin Santos in Central Point. Mr. Sullivan, we hope you and your staff find yourselves getting along safely through the storm. Once the weather settles, Mr. Santos would like to arrange a meeting to discuss your future plans for the Club Aether property as well as helping you to nullify some of the recent bad press in the local media.
The fax machine sprung to life as she spoke.
Iâve sent over a proposal prepared by Mr. Santos personally for your review before the first meeting. He hopes that you will find it worthwhile and that we are all very excited about the prospect of working with you. Thank you very much and have a good day.
The fax machine finished off a several page transmission a few moments after the phone call ended. In it Leo will find a cover letter with contact information, a few pages of legal text and an offer for the club at 25% over its current market value.
Paige smirked a little at Dustynnâs comments about the car and that she was from the Southside of Sol City. âI'm actually from Florida, this is the first time I ever drove in snow.â She replied. It wasn't her intention to scare the hell out of Dustynn, she knew they would be fine, but she couldn't resist the way it sounded particularly with her characteristic, very not Sol City accent and as the defrost and heat roared, she spotted Miloâs truck coming down the street, throwing snow out from the giant tires while bright headlights pierced the air thick with snowfall. She shook her head and couldn't help it as her little smirk grew into a little grin. âLook at this redneck...â She said slyly nodding ahead towards him. Her tone made it obvious she knew the driver.
It was about that time the front-end of the truck seemed to veer slightly towards the snow banks already heaped up by the city's plow-trucks and further towards, a person. âOh, shit.â Paige's lips slightly mouthed the words, but no sound escaped. She watched as the truck slid further. Thankfully, Milo caught the skid and corrected, though the result had him very ungracefully spun around in the middle of the street. Paige let out a small sigh seeing him jump out to help the person and put the Suburban in gear shaking her head before they drove up to the scene. Knowing Dustynn had also seen the whole thing, she felt obliged to explainâŠ.something before the poor girl thought they were all completely unhinged. âThatâs myâŠâ She thought about the word briefly before she spoke and how juvenile it sounded, but also, in a flash of less than a second behind her eyes, the name behind it. It was a phrase sheâd never uttered her entire life and the first person to hear it would be an almost complete stranger: â...boyfriend, Milo. Heâs going to help us get out of here, I think.â If he doesnât kill anyone first. Instantly remembering, that around a month ago they were ready to kill each other.
The snow crunched beneath the tires as Paige pulled up behind Milo and the other woman letting the window down. It was somewhat strange being stopped in the middle of what was usually a very busy street, but there was a fortunate break in the sparse, though panicked traffic. âNice drivinâ Dale Jr.â She said sarcastically looking at Milo with an eyebrow cocked and knowing how much he liked his silly Nascar racing. She glanced at the blue-haired girl, which was slightly unexpected. âAre you okay?â She asked.
âI donât think itâs gonna cut it any day.â Paige said flatly glancing back out at her soulless government issued transportation being more and more steadily buried in snow. âI liked my 4Runner better.â She knew Milo would remember the one and only car she ever really owned. Her dad bought it used as her first car when she was in high school from a local dealership in Delta City. It survived two years of high-school, then UF, and multiple trips all over south Florida before she got on with Florida State Police and had a cruiser of her own. Beaten, bruised, with faded-silver paint and numerous decals from her and Anaâs various escapades scattered all over the back glass, the odometer had to be somewhere north of 300k, but it soldiered on, unkillable. âDid you know my dad still has it? He still drives it.â If he knew half the things we did with that car heâd probably disown me. She thought with a brief smirk.
As she spoke, she noticed a young girl leave from the front entrance and then promptly come back in after getting a good dose of the weather. âYeah, daddy doesnât know about a lot of the stuff she sends me.â Which so far included the expensive winter jacket she was wearing, a nice purse to fit her gun when she went out, some hollow-point bullets, a few other things and presently, a very large bottle of high-proof Jamaican rum. Paigeâs mother made good money as a judge, while her father made very little as a preacher. As Milo was also well aware, they did not see eye-to-eye on everything and Paige was essentially just like her mother, only a step further. She thought about the logistics of what she said and knew she probably sounded very blonde to Milo, but sheâd never been in a snowstorm before. âI guess I should follow you?â She said thinking about his silly, jacked-up pickup making a track for her to go behind. âI donât know Iâll see you when you get here.â
When the weather died down and Milo went home, she didnât didnât want to be without transportation, nor did leaving the property of the Marshal Service in the Sol City Clerk of the Courtâs parking space sound like a particularly good idea. As she thought about it, the young girl that came back inside, partially covered in snow, which attracted the attention of several officers as the swing of the door again let the heat out. Paige shook her head slightly at the girl's comment as she hung up with Milo. She at least seemed to be dressed for the occasion while Paige still only had on her regular jeans and sneakers. Before she could say anything an officer came up and sternly asked what they were doing there and that they needed everyone to leave as soon as possible, only on-duty personnel were being allowed to stay.
Unimpressed, Paige lifted her jacket open showing her star and gun and that she didn't have to follow any of their orders.
âOkay, she with you then?â The officer quickly spat back and motioned towards Dustynn. He had a lot to do and wasn't in the mood for a showdown with someone he couldn't control.
âYeah, she's with me.â Paige shot back instantly and glanced over at Dustynn. His tone was enough to prick her nerves and there was enough going on that she wasn't going to put up with a grown man being a bitch. She hoped the girl would have sense enough to play along. SCPD would not be in the mode for providing transportation and the girl looked like she didnât have a lot of money. Ditching her would have just sentenced her to the same bench or cot that she was also in the process of avoiding.
As the officer walked away somewhat defeated, Paige looked back at Dustynn with some satisfaction that she had put him in his place. âDon't worry about him, he's just being a dick.â She said cutting her eyes again to make sure he was indeed on his merry-way. âI'm Paige⊠And I'm not a cop.â She said offering a handshake. âWeâll get you outta here.â Inside her jacket pocket she thumbed the key fob for the automatic start while outside the Suburbanâs lights came on as the engine started. The wipers tossed away a healthy layer of snowfall.
She was looking forward to spending some time with Milo, just the two of them for a while after they helped out Dustynn. She knew Milo wouldn't mind. They certainly had bigger adventures in the past. Some day-drinking sounded like a plan for sure and reminded her some of the date they had before she was put in the hospital. Other than Thirsty-Thursday with Sio, it was the last time she'd really indulged.
Here's a link to our discord channel where you can join us in our silly discussions. Link is good for 24 hours or we'll just have to generate another one.
Paige made steady strides down the hallway and her mind was racing nearly as fast as her feet were carrying her. The whole SCPD office was buzzing with phones ringing and boisterous conversations. She knew the regular beat cops were getting ready to have one hell of a few days. Sheâd overheard a conversation about not having enough snow-chains for all the cruisers on duty and an ambulance stuck somewhere on the Westside. They were calling in everyone. Catching a glimpse of the outside from a passing window she knew she was already in deep shit. Driving in, the roads werenât necessarily bad per se, though definitely not good either. She knew it would be worse when she left, but the view outside was almost bleach white and coming down in blankets nearly filling the tracks in the parking lot. Fuck. Sure, sheâd passed all the aggressive driving courses and recertified every year, however there wasnât really any way to simulate a snowstorm at the Marshal Headquarters in south Georgia.
Walking a little further she looked at her phone as the reception came back when she got closer to the front lobby near the visitation area. She was sure Milo was wondering why she hadnât called and felt her back pocket vibrate with a text. Now she was wondering if that redneck truck of his would be able to make it to pick her up or if she would have to just go for it. With the new information she extracted from CT, the thought of spending the night in City Hall on a bench or cot was even less appealing. If they were going to be stuck inside, they could at least start plotting out what they were going to do. However, the thought that followed stopped her in her tracks as she held the phone in front of her and started to call Milo off the link in his message. Ever since sheâd been back on her feet and the Giancana case was in full swing, it seemed like their relationship, if that was what it could be called, had taken a back seat. Theyâd been out a few times and it was fun. She was loosening up, even getting past her own reservations about Ana and with Sioâs help, living a little again.
So badly, she wanted to be the one that took down that brood of Detroit thugs and she was closer than ever. Many had tried before her. It would be the stuff of Marshal legend if she could pull it off. Her heart beat little harder though, torn between telling him what sheâd found out or admitting that she just missed him. As officers and city-staff passed by her busily, she stared at the screen for a moment before she hit the call button, putting the phone to her ear and glancing around as the line rang.
âHey,â She said as he picked up. The image of him sitting there smoking a cigar was the first thing that came to mind and she smirked a little thinking about the metallic scent of his workshop. âSorry, I just got outâŠâ She hesitated briefly, something she knew he would pick up on immediately. â...Iâve got some stuff to tell you.â She continued having to talk louder over the noise. âI think Iâm gonna try and make it back to the house. Do you think you could come up and follow me?â She stood up on her toes and glanced outside looking for where her big Suburban was waiting. Sheâd stolen the parking spot for the Clerk of the Court up front and there was a hefty layer of snow over the windshield. âMaybe we can open that bottle of Wray that my mom sent up since it looks like weâll have some time to kill.â She thought about Xia for a moment. Unfortunately, her new Caribbean friend would miss that bottle if they got started on it.
By Thursday at 2:37am, the week had not been a bad one, relatively speaking, for Joel Nicolosi. Behind him, the chassis of Sioâs Corvette was mostly completed, thought the untouched body still occupied his lift. The suspension, new engine and transmission were assembled, but not quite complete which was considerably more progress than he thought heâd make in such a short time though it was usually much easier to strip and replace than to repair. In his living room a certain gift from Marlinâs grandfather occupied a nice place next to his painting of Senna at Monaco. Heâd had the signed note framed as well to accompany it. The small lighter and the scale model both occupied a handsome space on the desk area of his massive toolbox. He grinned thinking about holding the wheel in his hands the same way as his idol. The small package was the most thoughtful gift he received in years and it took a lot to impress him. He had some ideas in his head on a classy thank-you note that he could write to the old man.
The kerosene powered space-heater blasted along happily behind him keeping the shop at a tolerable temperature with a loud roar and Joel sat in a lawn chair watching the first snow begin to fall and coat the road. He never cared much for the winter months, but the scene was nice. Every once in a while a car would pass and the light coming out of the shop would cast a shadow behind the car as he saw his reflection in the glare of the passing window. It was too cold for the guys at the fabric mill to walk to work so he had mostly sat alone reading emails and listening to his regular late night programming while the news broke in at the top and bottom of the hour with the continuing forecast of impending doom for all in the City. He yawned. The shop was getting crowded behind him and he was curious about either buying another shipping container and paying a company to fab them together or building an addition to the shop. With his newest acquisition from Japan, he only had just enough room to work on Sioâs car and had to be careful about where he put things to save space. He replied to a few estimates and scrolled on.
Sitting next to his chair were two cans of Rebellion energy drinks which had fueled the majority of his evening. Heâd only drank them occasionally before, preferring Red Bull, but the new orange ones they were pushing were rather tasty and addictive. His meeting with the Operations Director for the rally-team had gone well and they had a date set for him to meet the rest of the team and drive a few rounds on the practice stage they had set up at Mount Atlas. Starting at the Observatory, the course wound down and around the mountain switching from the paved roadway to the zig-zagging hydra of old, dirt logging trails that ended in a close dash by the Lake and the old Hunter Lumber Mill. The Director sent over a video of the stage for him to study as well several cases of drinks and a big box of t-shirts, sweatshirts and other merchandise. He saved the girlsâ stuff for Sio and sent two of the British themed, energy shots to Marlin as a gag. The flavor title Within Treason featured the logo, âRâ over a Revolution-era American flag. He grinned, sometimes he just couldnât help himself.
Thinking about the ladies was always nice. Being on less awkward terms with Marlin was good and meeting Dustynn had been a decent surprise as well, though he could tell she wasnât exactly the type to bring back home to mom and dad. Marlin fit that bill a little too closely and he was glad his mother hadnât really had a chance to meet her or he never would have heard the end of it. Sheâd only seen the pictures and he was swiftly able to talk around her probing questions. No, Sio was becoming the most involved heâd been in a while. She was young, but she at least liked to challenge him some; though he could tell when she was full of shit and didnât know it. It was still fun. He took another long swig from the remainder of the can seeing the newspaper carrierâs car come around the corner up the street and decided to mess with her some. He took a picture of her chassis sitting on its new wheels and tires so that it was painfully obvious heâd done some major work without her being there.
I got back tonight and it looked like this, not sure what happened
He was sure she was most likely asleep and laughed his ass off as he hit send.
Paige plopped a bag of buy-one get one burger specials on the slick metal table and tossed the handcuff keys into CTâs lap. The orange-jumpsuit clad computer hacker exhaled a breath of thankful astonishment and quickly fumbled with the key before vigorously tearing into the bag. âThese are from the same diner?!â He questioned anxiously pulling the paper wrapping away and taking a very large bite. He leaned back and chewed happily rocking in place as his jaws worked through the massive chunk of greasy delight heâd bitten away. âOh my GodâŠâ He proclaimed, still chewing on a mouthful. âYou are the best⊠the food here is shit.â She handed him a large soda to wash it down and took a seat across from him. He immediately sucked down several gulps and for a few moments the small conference cell in SCPD headquarters was quiet save for CTâs voracious eating.
She didnât need to check the clock again. Sheâd already looked several times before entering the room. The weather outside was shit and turning worse by the moment. If she didnât get out of downtown soon, she knew she would likely be spending her day at City Hall for at least as long as it would take for Milo to come pick her up, if he could make it, in which case if he couldnât, she would be spending her night at City Hall on a rock-hard bench in the courtroom. Fuck that. Uncle Sam had thankfully seen fit to at least supply her with a nice four-wheel drive Suburban, not that it would do a lot of good. According to the weather, nothing short of a tank would be suitable once the storm set in fully. Still, being from Florida, she hadnât done too badly driving in and only had to lay on the horn one time when someone refused to let her cut them off at the ramp coming from the freeway.
Putting a cup of coffee down in front of her, also from the same diner across from Club Aether, Paige retrieved a small folded paper from the inside of her jacket pocket and placed it on the table as well. She let him enjoy his meal a bit longer and savored the warmth of the room. Still only being a few weeks into Sol, she wasnât adjusted to the cold and kept her headband on while inside.
âSo, you won anything yet?â CT asked. He had already completely scarfed one burger and was licking his fingers before lining up another one.
âMaybeâŠâ Paige said looking him in the eyes. Unlike when she glared at him before, he seemed intrigued and accepted the small piece of folded printer-paper with one hand while holding his second burger in the other. Taking a bite, he unfolded the note and started reading. Paige watched as his mouth stopped while his eyes narrowed and continued to scan.
<2shad4u>>> online <jackal1>>> online
<2shad4u>: been watching the wires out of Sol lately?
<jackal1>: just had that race, nothing special
<2shad4u>: sure about that?
<jackal1>: chump change
<2shad4u>: look at this one <2shad4u>>> file uploaded.
<jackal1>: little fish gotta eat too <jackal1>: what's the container traffic like?
<2shad4u>: way up, airways up too <2shad4u>: for winter <2shad4u>: place is crawling with federals though
<jackal1>: i knew thats where you were going
<2shad4u>: art expo coming up too <2shad4u>: easy money
<jackal1>: better be careful <jackal1>: detroit took a swing at a federal <jackal1>: hard kill
<2shad4u>: stupid <2shad4u>: all over a little gun shop
<jackal1>: they have their pride
<2shad4u>: feds all be looking down <2shad4u>: not up <2shad4u>: perfect timing
<jackal1>: maybe
âHow did you get this?â CT said looking up at her over the crease. He was no longer amused.
âLike you said,â Paige replied nonchalantly folding the plastic tab back on her cup. âIâm a pro.â
CTâs eyes returned to the paper despite him knowing exactly what it said and his mouth began moving again like the slow wheels and cogs of an old machine restarting as he dealt with some conflicting emotions. What she uncovered could mean a significant amount more time behind bars for him, but at the same time her quick use of the few skills heâd taught her was about the most insanely attractive thing he could imagine. The room was quiet again as he sucked air through the straw and shook his cup to rearrange the ice.
âJust tell me what you know about this, particularly the art show.â Paige said. There were a whole range of questions she had based off the transcript, but being pressed for time against the snowstorm, she had to cut to the chase. Ever since Monday, she couldnât shake the sure-feeling that Shannon had got the better of her and she was hellbent on finding a way around having to rely solely on the gangster-queen for information. It felt like a wall that she and Milo couldnât get around, like they were pieces being placed on a chessboard, which was just the way she knew Shannon intended it. Sheâd thought about it near constantly, often unable to sleep until Milo jokingly suggested they use the hacking skills CT shared just to see what came up. She wasnât going to tell him the âFederalâ in the chat transcript was her and based on his reaction, she was sure he didnât know either.
CT shifted nervously, but resumed his rapid-chewing. He took another big bite before speaking: âLook, Iâm not trying make things worse for myself here.â He looked around the bleak room, empty and clean save for the table bolted to the floor. âIf I tell you, are you gonna be able to protect me here?â
Paige smirked a little. âThis is just the city lockup, you havenât even made it to the pen yet.â She said with some amusement. Seeing his terrified reaction though, she knew she would have to relent a little. In order to talk, CT had to be made to feel smart and important. Two concepts that were not entirely lost. âThe more you can tell me, the better I can make things for you, CT. Now what were you going to do at the art show?â
âNothing at the show, that stuff is boring as hell.â He was nearing the end of his second sandwich. âBut itâll be full of stuck-up pricks with lots of money looking to buy crap that looks like somebody threw-up on a canvas.â
âAnd thatâs where you come in?â Paige said giving him a very practiced look of false intrigue. She had to agree with him about modern art so it was easy to add an empathetic tone. At least what Sio created looked like actual art and she was regarded as a bit of an outcast.
âLike clubbinâ baby seals.â He said with growing, smug grin. âThese idiots have so much money, they donât even realize it when I skim off 20-30k? You follow? I just add it in as processing fees on their bank statements.â
âWhatâs with all the bank stuff?â She asked. She had to admit, he was crafty and the more she could pad his ego, the more he would spill.
âOh that?â CT said looking back up towards the top of the page. He leaned back and rubbed his stomach contemplating a third burger, but thinking better of it. âThat was just me talking shit,â He admitted though feeling his oats, he was ready to do some boasting: âSee, I had this idea, back in high school actually, about how you could rob all three major banks in Sol and get away with it. It was beautiful.â
Paigeâs eyes widened slightly and her gaze snapped up from the paper between them. âWait, what did you just say?â
âAbout what?â CT said facetiously. âMe in high school?â He shook his head in theatrical reminiscence playing off her sudden concern. âMan, I was such a player, you would have loved me back then-â
âNo, about the banks, you fool.â Paige snapped cutting him off.
âOh,â He was surprised slightly how the playfulness had so quickly evaporated from her tone reminding him that he was indeed in prison and she more or less had control over nearly every facet of his meager comfort level. âI mean, I just cooked up this plan where you could rob all three and get away with it, itâs not as hard as you think, dÄ«vide et imperÄ.â
âStarBank, Millennium and First National.â
âYeah, thatâs it.â CT confirmed. âExcept I think Millennium was called something else back then, Century 22 or 55 or something like that...â He sat his styrofoam cup on the table slightly deflated at how the conversation was going, but a little intrigued himself at her intense interest in his old bank robbery fantasies. âThat was years ago, you couldnât get away with it now.â
âWhy not?â
âWell for one thing, SCPD is double what it used to be.â CT said matter-of-factly. Heâd lived in Sol most of his life. âHavenât you seen those guys? Theyâre like friggin football players now.â He turned his gaze away from her towards the ceiling considering the logistical puzzle again. He rather liked the mental exercise. âYou could still probably do it I guess, but you would have to be willing to sacrifice a few flunkies to pull it off, like pawns on a chessboard, ya know?â
âYes, I get that CT, but how would you actually do it?â Paige asked barely able to mask her impatience. She was leaning forward slightly and glanced up to see an SCPD officer giving her a concerned look through the small window in the entrance. The weather was getting worse.
CT thought back about his original plan briefly. âWell the first part is easy,â He said, still thinking. âYou just gotta get them moving, classic-style, like blow up a car or call in a bomb threat at a school, preferably on the west side, that way you can get the bridge traffic between you.â He scratched at the stubble on his beck a bit. âThe next part is the hardest, you would have to hand the teller a note at each separately and at the same time, but no guns needed. Just a note. All three have a silent alarm the teller can trigger so theyâre definitely gonna hit that so no need to come in all wild west style and scare everybody.â He finished off his soda and shook the ice again looking for the last few drops. His tone became slightly more methodical than playful as he envisioned his plan. âYou only want to take as much as you can carry, so one person, one bag, big bills and you get away on a bike⊠or a moped.â He glanced up at Paige with a smirk.
âHow do you get out of the city?â
âDaedalus seaplanes can land in the harbor,â CT continued. âYouâd just have to have a wheelman that could fly a plane.â
âOr your own plane...â Paige said. Her thoughts drifted to Marlin and their conversation from Monday.
âYeah, well youâre gonna need that anyway for the last bit, a business jet or something.â
âWhat do you mean?â Her glance narrowed inquisitively.
âYour crew isnât gonna get away on that little prop-powered, tourist plane, not enough range,â He said. âYou fly it out to Catalina Island where thereâs a long runway, ditch the seaplane and youâre out of this hemisphere in less than an hour. Theyâd never catch you.â
âCatalina Island?â
âItâs basically this big rock in the middle of the ocean a couple miles off the coast.â CT said crossing his arms and considering the final parts of his brainchild. âIt was like an army-air force base back in the day, couple people tried making it into a tourist thing, but it never really caught on, runway is still useable though.â
Paige shook her head and glanced away at nothing in particular. She was working it out for herself having never heard such a scheme concocted seemingly out of pure boredom.
âWhatâs got you so hemmed up on that?â CT asked. âI figured youâd want to know more about the art show-â
âHow many people have you told this to?â
âOh, I dunno.â CT shrugged. âI used to bring it up at parties back when I was a kid, chicks really digged it, just like you are now.â
âYeahâŠâ
âLike I said, you just couldnât do it nowadays.â He pursed his lips slightly. âThereâs just too many cops in Sol, youâd have to be willing to settle for just one score to really have a statistical chance of success and on top of that youâd have to make the hit on the day before the armored truck runs.â
âWhat do they publish the bank runs here?â Paige cocked an eyebrow of disbelief.
âNo, theyâre not quite that careless, but they are predictable.â CT said. âWhat people donât realize is that the armored truck is mostly for taking money out, not bringing it in. Once the physical deposits hit a certain level, the system automatically puts in a pickup request.â
A firm knock reverberated on the hard metal door. Paige looked up seeing the guard giving her a more than slightly concerned look. She glanced around the table again. There was nothing but CTâs trash and the singular printed transcript. She stood up, but hesitated slightly in her thoughts. Her legs defiantly stayed with the broad section of her churning mind that wanted to keep asking questions even if it meant a night on a hard bench in City Hall.
âHey is all this gonna help me at all?â CT pleaded. âI mean, I really laid it all out there. I should get something, right?â
Paige looked hard back at him knowing she had to go. Her legs relented and she moved around the table swiftly and rocked him by the shoulders with a firm grasp, looking him firmly in the eye with her blazing olive orbs. She planted a large kiss squarely on his forehead. âCT, you have no idea.â She said and ruffled his hair before opening the door and took off down the hallway.
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