The Recoil Of The Mind

Chapter 1: Ain't Like That No More

Rickard looked over the docks. The sea looked devoid of any life and the cloudless sky gave way to the moonlight, the only source of light which illuminated the docks.
He glanced over to Yuri, who fidgeted nervously with the zipper of his jacket. He could see Rocco ordering two of the men to prepare the crates according to his liking.
He could see David and Ross arguing between themselves over some matter. Those two never did get along but today they resolved their differences and sorted out the problems in the packaging right away. And finally he glanced over to Greco, the only one who hadn't said a word since they arrived at the docks. He stood as motionless as the sea itself and seemed to bleed into the surroundings.

"Here they come", Greco announced, and everybody stopped what they were doing to get a glance at the visitors. The faint ripples in the otherwise motionless water gave them away, if one could ignore the roar of the yacht's engine. The yacht could have passed off as a civilian vessel, if not for the guards standing at the passengers' exit; two more stood on the hull of the ship so as to scout the area beforehand.

A man in a red jacket spoke in what seemed to be French to the guards and they started to dock the ship. Meanwhile Greco gestured for two of his personal guards to escort the man in the red jacket.

"Nice place homes", said the man to Greco.

"I never knew you spoke French".

"Well, you gotta learn the language to deal with these schmucks".

The Man in Red gestured to one of his guards. "You got what I need?"

"You're joking right?". Greco nodded at Henry, his right hand, who then picked up a crate and brought it up to Greco. "See for yourself". The man spoke something in French and one of his entourage brought him a crowbar. He proceeded to pry open the crate and pick up a .308 revolver. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me", he said as he was handed a phone. "Here", said the man, "Now you take a look".

"Shit, this better be good". Greco took the phone and glanced over the payment. The organisation was found upon a unanimous hatred of cash. Cash was easy to trace, they said. They always dealt in virtual credits, and this time was no different.

"This seems a little bit extra", said Greco.

"Yeah, I know", said the Man in Red, "A sign of goodwill".Greco mustered his thanks and ordered to crates to be loaded into the ship.

Rickard glanced over to the guards, they were distracted. He glanced over to Greco and the Man in Red, they were still working out the deal. Finally, he glanced over to the guards on the boat, who were occupied with the crates themselves.

Soon, the crates were all loaded and the deal was complete. The Man in Red said his goodbyes and the yacht drew away. He didn't seem like a criminal, well not a common criminal anyway. At last, Greco broke the silence and ordered them all to move. He gave the phone to Henry, who took it and put it in his pocket. "Damn, the phone felt hot", Henry joked.

Rickard glanced over at Greco, who was busy sipping a beer. He glanced at Henry and David and Rocco, who were busy cracking jokes. He looked at the rest the crew, who were busy readying the cars. Finally he glanced around him so as to take in his surroundings for a last time. He took a small radio, about the size of a business card, and activated it nonchalantly, and then promptly tossed it away into a pile of garbage.

"Fuck!", Henry cried out. He went down at his knees and cried out in pain. A pool of blood formed around his ankle. Suddenly, shots rang out around the docks. Everybody drew in around Greco and proceeded to escort him to his car.

All of a sudden smoke filled Rickard's view. "Freeze, FBI!", someone shouted behind him, while the sounds of gunshots filled the air. He promptly released the hold on his gun and for down on his knees. "Rickard, where - shit!", Rocco cried out but he was interrupted by the bangs of the rifles. And then, as he had expected, a bag was put over his head and he was led around and into a vehicle.