"Say Boss," the man driving the car started. Voice light, contrary to the mood in the armored vehicle. "How come we don't do this more often?"
"Is that supposed to be a serious question?" A voice came from the backseat, flat and a tad bit sardonic. The man in the back was baffled not by the question but rather who was asking it.
Kane, despite his unruly appearance wasn't one to relish in violence. He was cautious to the point of cowardice. Constantly plotting the next under the table business venture or flirting with whatever eye candy his associates offer up to him.
"Of course it is, Boss!" He exclaimed feigning surprise. The expression on his face unseen but the humor in his brown eyes visible in the review mirror.
"I mean, it's not every day we kidnap the mayor's son, is it?" Kane shifted. One arm on the wheel, the other on the armrest. "The city must be flooded with cops sticking their noses in every shithole trying to find him."
"Kane." The flat voice echoed in the back one more. "How long have we known each other?" "About eleven years?" Kane answered.
"Twelve." The voice corrected.
"Right, twelve years since that day at the bank." Kane said suddenly feeling nostalgic. Has it truly been twelve years? That Bank job felt like a year or two ago for him. When he was just a college dropout who'd never held a fun in his life and when the boss was just a street urchin with good aim.
"Right. twelve. And in those twelve years," a click resounded in the back. Kane knew it was a lighter. The breath came soon after, along with the smell of a cigar that could pay someone's rent for a year. "We've gone from dirty crack houses and abandoned factories. To mansions and high-rise offices."
Kane's hand moved back to the steering wheel. The other one came to a hat at his door. He pressed a button and the drivers window cracked open. The other passengers might tolerate the smoke but it was a bit much for him.
"And every job we ever did, you'd go out of your way to complain about something or the other." A pause. Then the sound of another breath. "What was it you used to say back then? That you couldn't wait to get rich and...?"
"...Never deal with this blood and bullshit again." Kane finished, feeling a wry smile tug at his lips. And know here he was. Remembering all those times with fondness.
"What can I say. Stockholm syndrome gets us at the worst of times." He joked.
"The reason we don't do this often, is because we're CEO'S now. Can't exactly go killing, robbing, and kidnapping people when you could get someone to do it for you.
"This was just the exception. And as for the police..."
"All quiet in the city, Dan." A third voice spoke up. This one sounded older. "Haven't heard a peep from anyone in the city. I doubt anyone even knows that our little 'guest' in the trunk is missing."
Gary was a veteran. He was the oldest member of the team. Their spider who had laid his Web and knew everyone worth knowing. If the old man said there was no noise it was the truth.
"Good, then that makes things easier." The Boss, the man with the cigar said. He was the head of this operation. Daniel Marshall Kendrick. To his friends he was simply Dan.
Kane banked the car down a dirt road. A little further down was a old munitions factory. No one had been to it for years. It's exterior long claimed by vines. There wasn't sign of any squatters. It only belonged to the trees and the occasional wandering bear.
It was the perfect dumping ground if need be.
The car slid past the broken gate and came to a halt at the entrance. The silent passenger was the first to leave. Rounding the car to open the door for Dan.
"Ever the ass, kisser huh?" Kane was quick to throw a jab at his co worker as he also opened his door to leave.
The woman looked at him and said nothing. Entertaining Kane would do no one any good.
Dan slid out of the car, the cigar on his lips faintly glowing in the darkness. The chill of the nighttime air bitting him through his suit. He forgot what it felt like, this cold that only ever seemed to hit him. The reminder of a past filled with lies and carnal manipulation.
"Thanks, Kat." Dan expressed his appreciation for the woman, Getting only a soft 'hm' in return.
"I'll stay in the car." Gary said. The old man pulled out a laptop from beneath the seats. He was pretty tech savvy for his age. "Keep my ear on the ground."
Kane pressed a button on the key fob and the trunk popped open. The light of the trunk shone on a figure. A blonde man wearing jeans and a tie dye shirt lay there unconscious.
The mayor's son.
"Alright, princess. You've had enough beauty sleep." Kane dragged the man out of the trunk and slammed him down the grass. The man could only let out a groan. Whatever was in his system had not yet worn off.
A strong kick landed on his gut. The man's eyes sprang open and out came a cry. Pain overcoming the inebriation.
"Well well, look who's finally awake~" Kane smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes however.
"So what's the plan?" Kane turned to Dan. The light hearted man in the car now a past memory. "Rough him up a bit, then leave his sorry as at daddy's doorstep? Or maybe..."
Kane said the next part in a wisper. A wisper loud enough for the man on the ground to hear."... We just kill him? Call Phelps to come scrape the brain matter of his little shit off the ground?"
The man began to panick. He tried standing only for his legs to give out. When running failed He tried crawling. Dan felt nothing. Not pity or disgust. A testament to the man he had become.
"Take him inside. What you do with him in there is up to you. Just make sure not to kill him." Dan wanted to finish his cigar. There were also a few thing he needed to mull over.
Kane's grin widened. "Aye captain." He said. The then proceed to grab the their 'guest' by the hair and dragged him to the factory.
The man yelled something that didn't register with Dan. Threats, apologies, Whatever he said didn't matter right now. He brought the cigar to his mouth and took a breath as he walked up the road to the gate they had passed before. The woman following behind.
Dan questioned how he wound up here. Had it begun tonight, when Preston Phelps threatened him with a gun and his father's authority? No, that wasn't it.
Perhaps it had been when he stepped in to the City as a child. With no one to rely on but a worn revolver and a box of ammunition? That was close but not quite it.
"Dan." Kat's voice brought him back to the present.
Dan stopped. "What's up?" Kat was a woman of few words. That's what everyone else thought at least. Dan knew her. She was only waiting for the moment they were alone.
"Are you okay, Dan?" Warmth and concern laced her voice. "Completely fine, Kat. You know better than anyone that a thug with a blade couldn't do shit to me." He replied. They had been in a bit of a scuffle with Preston and his goons back at the bar, none of his people were hurt thankfully.
"Dan," the concern in her voice still present she asked again as the pair began moving towards the gate once more. "That's not what I'm getting at.
"The past few days, you've been strange." Dan kept walking but his heart stilled for a moment. Did she know? If so then how much? "How so?" He chose to test the waters.
"You've been distant, Dan. Holding up in your house not talking to any of us, Your absent-minded looks, and now this."
Dan turned to her, expression blank. "This?"
"The smoking, Dan. You only ever smoke for two reasons. When your mourning, or when your stressed. And last I checked no one you know died recently." Kat exposed his habits.
Dan paused. It seemed she didn't know his current situation. But Lord, was he stressed? The past few days had been hectic. What made it worse was that he couldn't tell anyone about it. He had tried, but every time some force would force the words down his throat.
In the meantime he needed an excuse. He knew that if Kat could see an issue then the rest of his people could to. They simply hadn't voiced their concerns yet.
"Kat." He mulled over the words for a moment. "Has the 'Market' been active these days?"
"Huh?" She was confused. What did that...?
Oh
"... No, we havent gotten any orders lately." She admitted. The thought disturbed her a bit. Guns, drugs, cars. Even the crime levels in the city have tanked. it was strange how calm things were.
"The world's gone quiet. Hasn't it?" Dan said. "I can't get in touch with the gold syndicate either. When the largest criminal organisation in the world suddenly goes quiet, of course this would happen." The wind dropped a degree or two.
"So," her voice a bit more weary. A frown on her face. "Is that the reason you've been strange lately?"
" I also can't get in touch with the lower courts." He admitted. They were his peers. He might even call a few of them his friends. His calls would get redirected. He knew they were somewhere in the city, in the same state of confusion as him. Their respective subordinates had told him to call another time.
"So yes, I suppose that has left me a bit... Stressed." Both his concerns were real but they were likely not the cause of his tension.
Kat felt the puzzle come to place. "Could they be gearing up for war?" "Nope, in fact we'll be in peace times for a while I believe." He refuted her.
"I don't know what this means yet. Gary's probably looking into it now." Dan concluded the old man had just found an excuse to stay in the car.
Kat sighed. With the future so clouded. It's no wonder the normally cool headed Dan would act strange.
"So what do we do? Just sit and wait for things to get better? Or if the syndicate and the courts jump on us?" She asked with a bit of frustration.
"No one's going to get the jump on us. The syndicate is planning something for sure, but I doubt it's anything involving war. As for the courts, They've turtled up but I doubt they're hostile. Their people were open to talk after all."
"For now let's deal with the nepo baby we picked up, then we'll go home and get some work done shall we?" He chose to end that conversation there.
Kat could only sigh.
Dan turned around, making his way back to the factory, Kat following behind. The walk back was silent.
Much was left unsaid. Things he shouldn't say, and some he physically couldn't.
Even if he could how mad would he sound?
That three days ago he wasn't Daniel Kendrick, criminal turned entrepreneur, but Mark Daniels, a local mechanic with a bleak future and a past he'd rather forget.
Dan finally pinpointed where it all began.
It was twelve years ago.
When he bought that damned game.