Colt Cain (completed)

Retribution

Firstly, Colt made his way down to an abandoned warehouse near the docks, where the heist was planned. He was hired by the man that shot him, a two time small bank robber named Mark, to help the heist team made up of his two friend's, Adam and Jack, and Jack's younger brother, Jason. He didn't expect to find anything of value there, and he didn't, but there was other things he could make use of. He found a bulldozer lying around and used it to knock the stolen police cruiser into the ocean then strolled to the back of the warehouse where the team's cars were still parked. He was amazed they left the cars there all this time, but assumed it was because his was gone instead. Their lifeless, working class sedans lay as they did one year ago, only Colt's was missing. Thinking he was dead, the others must've taken it. All the more reason to burn them all alive, he thought. Colt's car probably would have sold for almost a full quarter of the heist cut. It was a jet black 2018 Ford Mustang GT: heavily armoured and heavily customized to match the speed of a present day super car. The thought of the car he'd owned for years being sold to sit in a showcase garage, or stripped down, or even used by anyone other than himself lit a spread the boiling flames of rage inside him that he would make them regret lighting. His property was not to be messed with. If they wanted to take his car, he'd take their happiness followed by their ability to walk and talk, then their lives. He left on foot after smashing their cars beyond repair, beating them all relentlessly with stray poles and pipes until they were demolished completely into a laughable mess. He trekked not far up into the outskirts of the city to another warehouse. On the outside, it was abandoned, rusty and worn, but on the inside, a high budget and rather illegal high tech car dealership hiring only mechanical and artistic criminal geniuses. The garage was littered with shiny cars of every sort, concealing it's own weird and wonderful illegal gadgets. Technology, employees and parts were neatly kept to the sides creating a catwalk for visitors. Walking in was like walking into daylight out of a dark room, even in daylight. Almost blinding with sparkling white walls, ceiling and flooring. Colt was shown to where the boss worked, currently at a jet-black SUV, with enough room to fit a large family in the boot. Would be handy for criminals using big tools for jobs. He slammed the car door shut, throwing dirty tools into the tool box. "Who the fuck thinks they can come into my shop without any notice and ask for me while I'm working on a- oh, shit. Mister Kataigìda! Sir! Hi. Shit. Uh-" he fell over his words and retreated very quickly back to the slammed door of the SUV. He almost bowed to Colt as he looked down at him. The mechanic was only just shorter than him, had a muffin top body, and was never clean of oil and the smell of it. His workplace was bright and beautiful with the smell of a new car, but never him or his employees and tools. He would back up two steps every one step Colt took toward him. "W-what do you want, Sir? What's wrong with you car? I can fix it! Or better yet upgrade it!"
"Cars stolen. I need a-"
"You can have the best car I have right now! It's in the secondary lot that's-"
"I know where it is."
"Yeah, right, of course."
"I need a car to get there."
"Oh, yes! Uh, here, a 2018 Challenger SRT Hellcat Widebody. American muscle, maroon red. Good?"
"It'll do. Better than your sports in the secondary. Also..."
"Shit, yes?"
"Mark, Adam, Jack, Jason-"
"Not a clue where they are, in the slightest! They cut ties with me, saying I was too low budget for men of their class. But I heard the younger one was buying the Devil's Queen nightclub."
"Right. Cheers for the cars, John."
"Yeah, of course! Pleasure doing business, Mister Cain." He gulped, sighed, and wiped sweat from his brow as the garage door opened and Colt cruised out with his prized possession.

Seconds later, the building would be seen going up in flames and the inside blanketed in fire. Flaming parts and tires flung out as explosions burst out from every angle. John the mechanic desperately shrugged his jacket off as he ran screaming from the large garage door. He fell to his knees as he watched his enterprise crumble in front of him. More flames erupted and more parts of cars and concrete bursted from the building like a mole out a hole. A car door slam brought his attention to Colt, pistol in hand. His expressionless face with the reflection of flames in colourless eyes struck panic and fear into John, his spine stiffened. He whimpered and tried to object to his murder, but in the end he knew there was nothing that could persuade lightning not to strike. Colt lifted his gun to John's forehead. The shot echoed. The murderer returned to his new car and rolled out of sight of the fire. There were no survivors.