Collect Calls: The Heist

Prologue

Police sirens echoed across the sun-scorched roads of the sleepy neighbourhood from a distance. This was common. Although the neighbourhood was small and quiet, it was built on the outskirts of one of the biggest hot dens of crime in the province; the city of Port Nataal. The city's reality sometimes spilled over into the dreamy little neighbourhood of Hazelwood but the residents, being aspirational and optimistic, enthusiastically ignored it. Maybe some thief or gang member was running from the cops again. Maybe they'd get away. Maybe they wouldn't. It didn't matter to the residents of Hazelwood, as long as they got to live their lives.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." That suburban anthem of jubilation bounced around the midnight blue walls in the home of the Bhebe family. It was their last born son's 10th birthday, and everybody was sharing in the happiness. "Well, you did it Charlie," the second sweetest voice Charlie had ever heard whispered to him. "Did what Darling?" He replied in a low hum.

"You promised me you'd have us out of the squalor by the time he turns 10," she said, pointing at the boy who's face was being gently baked by the light of the ten candles before him, "and you did it, just."

Charlie chuckled a little, "well it was close. I think we still have moving boxes in the garage actually," his wife, Lilly, smiled a little at that then replied "that doesn't matter. All that matters is he's away from all that violence, and he'll never need to worry about crack dealers offering him a rock, or gang bangers trying to recruit him, or the police bursting through the front door looking for some neighbour or anything like that. He's safe."

"We all are." Charlie confirmed. The police sirens grew gradually louder, and they rose to almost a screech in pitch. But the family didn't hear them, or, perhaps, they chose to ignore them.

As the song winded down to a close, a countdown began for when He officially turned ten years old, at the time when He took his first breath independent of His mother. 19:34. "5," the whole family of 5, from Charlie and Lilly- His parents- to Nina, His 12 year old sister, and Sam, His 15yr old brother, and the rest of the extended family gathered for him, chorused along.

"3,"

Cameras were raised by uncles and a little baby, his cousin's child, scampered across the floor.

"2,"

Charlie could've sworn he saw red clash against his blue walls, but he forgot it as the beaming smile on his son's face grew.

" 1..."

He puffed his cheeks to blow. A pane of windows cracked open and a small metal canister floated in through the cavity. He turned around in shock and confusion. The canister erupted in a puff of smoke and a blinding flash. He covered his eyes with his little arm. The front and back doors blew open. Dozens of men and women, clad in black uniform, rushed in with assault rifles primed and raised and swept through the house. A small detachment went upstairs. The rest swarmed the dining room, surrounding the family and instantly choked all merriment from the occasion like the smoke that filled their lungs.

They were blinded, and there was a ringing in their ears. "Charlie Bhebe freeze!" Charlie heard through the ringing. His heart hurt from beating so quickly in panic. He forced his eyes open and saw his house was bathed in red and blue lights, and police sirens flooded his ears as quickly as the ringing could leave.

He felt a pair of rough hands grab his wrists, and cold steel bit into the soft skin. "You are under arrest for the murder of Mayor Van Buren", he thought he heard a voice say. "You have the right..." He didn't hear anything after that as a piercing cry came from what was the first sweetest voice he'd ever heard. "Daddy what's happening!?"

He snapped back to some semblance reality, "sweetheart I don't know! Get your hands off me, get your hands off me!"

But they didn't. They dragged him kicking and screaming and protesting the entire way to a police cruiser. They shoved him into it and shackled him a second time against the wire mesh separating the driver's cabin from the rear seat.

Like a caged beast he bellowed and screamed his innocence to his jailers, begging to be set free. They didn't listen. The car's wheels squealed as they spinned against the bare, dry tarmac. The smoke floated into the sky to mingle with Charlie's cries. Eventually, it left. All the police left, and the family stayed, stunned by the event. Nina picked up a broom and started sweeping. Cyprian and Mongezeli, Charlie's brothers, got into a car and followed the cruiser to the police station. Lilly went into her room and broke down in silence.

In all this, little Jermaine stayed still, staring at the chocolate cake laid out in front of him. The candles blown out by the force of the police team's entrance. In the distance a malevolent beat ripped through the simmering air, bouyed by a sinister melody and the most carnal, savage vocals Jermaine will ever hear. As it drew closer, he could finally make out the lyrics, "Fuck the police!". Jermaine nodded his head.