Jaws Of Fury

A Long Drop Down

It was about seven o'clock at night. The sun was preparing to set and I sat on the guardrails of the overpass, letting my feet dangle. There was a wind blowing that brought a concerning amount of cold with it.  I looked at my phone, anxiously awaiting the convoy. When the time came, I would drop on top of the truck and lay there until we got to the location. But that was as far as I got. I wasn't sure how I was to get in without alerting the guards or where I even could get in. There was over a million ways this could go wrong if I even misjudged a single call. I could mistime my fall and end up as red paste on the asphalt, I could sneeze and be filled with more holes than a wheel of swiss cheese. Timing and judgement were everything here. Luck played a large role as well. Yet despite all the ways that this could go wrong, I was in a decent mood. The thought of that reward money kept me in this.  I had my two handguns holstered on both sides of my waist, primed and ready to go. All I needed was a reason and those things would be spitting lead in a split second. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the bullet from before and put it in between my teeth.  Like an explosive toothpick I clenched in in the front of my jaws. I could taste the heavy metal. It was oddly comforting. I looked around, not a vehicle in sight. Not even civilian vehicles. The roads were completely empty. It was kind of suspicious but I was glad. At least with no traffic, I could hear the convoy coming from a mile away.  I looked at my phone. It was quarter after seven. Only forty five minutes until the convoy came. What could I do to make time go by quicker? I was so bored sitting up here. At that moment the two voices began to prattle.

"Wow!" said the first one. "I can see my house from here!". It sounded excited.

"You mean OUR house, moron". The second voice chimed in. It sounded flat and monotone.

"What are we gonna buy when we rake in that prize money!? Huh? New rims? An endless supply of bullets? That ski-doo!? OH I REALLY HOPE WE BUY THAT SKI-DOO!". The first voice was going nuts. Reminded me of a kid going to his first amusement park. I shook my head. I needed to concentrate. It was then that I heard it. Gunshots, engines and sirens. I took the bullet from my teeth and put it in my pocket as I walked to the opposite side of the overpass. I heard excited and happy yelling and tires screaming as I tried to triangulate the sound's origin. Then I saw it.  An old muscle car, four motorcycles and three police cars came tearing around the corner and onto the freeway beneath me. The car was a red and black 1969 Chevelle from the looks of it. Inside were four people. All but one had guns hanging out the windows, shooting at the police. The bikes were crotch rockets and there were two on either side of the car. I could tell who these guys were. Everyone back at Max's knew these guys. These were the Triads.  An Asian gang that mostly stayed on the eastern side of the city. These guys were always dressed in red, black and white colors and usually wore face paint to make themselves look intimidating. They were your typical gangsters. They sold drugs, ran prostitutes, stole cars. They usually left us alone and vice versa. We had no problems with them and they had no problems with us, as long as we stayed in our proper areas. But these guys were way out of their little piece of the city.  I saw one of them roll his window down all the way and sit on the sill. He had a small, automatic firearm that he held in one hand while holding onto the car with the other. He let loose a short burst of bullets and blew out a tire on one of cop cars. The car lost control as it flew into the ditch. I heard them all cheer together as the other two passengers in the Chevelle got onto their window sills and blast the cops with their guns. The cops shot back and took out the rear windshield of the Chevelle and a middle finger was thrown out to the cops from the driver's seat. The four motorcycles got themselves up on one wheel and spun themselves around and went straight towards the cops .I saw the cops shoot two guys off their bikes as the remaining bikers went straight towards the police cars. It was turning into a game of Chicken. I wondered on who was gonna swerve first. I wondered if I should intervene. If I should help the Triads or the police. If I helped the Triads, it could turn out to be quite useful in the future. It always pays to have friends in this line of work. If I helped the cops... I could get in trouble with the law. Last thing I needed was to be put away for killing a bunch of people.So I did nothing. I didn't feel like risking my car for some punks who shouldn't even be in this part of town anyway. So I stood there and watched. The two bikers put themselves up on their back wheels once more as the got closer and closer to the front of the police cars. Then it happened. The mere second before a collision the bikers swerved to the middle so that they were between the two police cars and then unloaded everything they had through the sides of the cars. I could hear the angry chatter of the guns loud and clear despite the wide open throttle of the vehicles. I could tell the drivers and passengers of the police cars were dead as the two cars slammed into each other and then went into the ditch. I heard the guys in the car cheer and whoop as they all flipped their middle fingers out the window to the wreckage and sped off.