Urban Stories: Jakarta

The Knight

We staked it out.

The University was busy that day, indoors. There wasn't many people on the fields, not in the parking lot at least. Just the security guy, white shirt blue pants and a moustache, old guy. We were told that the faculty had a meeting that day, all the non-educational staff were called in that day. We're waiting for the time to pounce.

Me and my friend shared a smoke, and something filled my throat. This sinful feeling that I enjoy, almost ecstatic. I tried to have one for my own, but with these empty pockets? Sadly no.

"Hey, it's time"

I looked back to the parking lot the guy got back to the faculty, its clear, we made our move.

I ran, he waited in the motorcycle. I knew what I had to do, and I did it. I did it quick, and never stopped. I kept going, the key we had was enough to do the job. T shaped, carved custom from a fellow person in the industry. I had sweat, but I remained calm. I've done this so many times I forgot the last time I chickened out.

It turned on, and I busted out. Ride as fast as you can, never look back. This motorcycle is in great shape and condition. My friend followed behind me, I was going so fast, away from the faculty, up until traffic that we slowed down, blended in the crowd and the streets of Jakarta.

We were safe, again. Our trade is by far one of the most dangerous trades in Indonesia. Maybe nine fold just because we're in this country alone. Why? Well, let's just say that the people are so obsessed with money, they would resort to something you don't see on television every day. Let's just say that if they caught us, they would paint the streets with our red.

We got to the garage, and the others took that motorcycle to bits and pieces. It's much easier to sell that way, untraceable, undetectable, and a profit enough to sate our needs for a couple of weeks.

Our strategy was move, move and move, we don't stay in one single area, and keep moving. As such the guys helping us are our mates, our pals, single banner, and a single cause. They'd agree to sell the bits for a price, and we agreed to it. It'll take a night, and we got our payment in full, wired by atm. It's now time to leave.

That's our trade, that's our life, and by now news of it will surely circle in the net. They won't get us, and they might never will. Me and my friend ride through the streets, happy with another day's success.

"Lukman, stop by the mart a bit."

"Sure, I gotta pick up another smoke as well."

We stopped by this bright colored mart, Lukman stopped near the cashier to take a pack. I got to the ATM and accessed it, checked the bank account, it's been added. Wonderful. This ATM? It belonged to a pal of ours long ago, he didn't have need for it so... We took it.

I took some cash for the road, and by the time I was done, Lukman had gotten some cigarettes, along with some snack for our time in the internet cafe. I wouldn't call it a cafe, more like a group of stalls with computers fastened with the best of games.

We got out of the store and went to a good internet cafe, that's the place where we're gonna stay for the night. You'd leave too much of your identity in the hotel or resting areas, but these places? Cash is enough.

"Bram, what are you gonna play today? "

"I guess I'll be playing Senja Legends"

"I'll go mid."

"Only if I become the tank"

"Smoke?" Offered Lukman

"Pass me the chips"