Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bhodi
Axe briefly looks to me, pulling the phone to his ear. “Yeah, I’ll let him know. Thanks.”
He gives me a nod, before ending the call and sliding the phone back into his pocket.
Turning my focus back towards the man casually sitting behind the desk, I cock my head to one side.
“So, I think my proposal is…reasonable,”
I say casually.
“Fuck sake,”
The police commissioner smirks and shakes his head, impressed but likely a little pissed off too. “Fine.”
He runs a hand across his chin. “I’ll allow it.” He nods.
“Good.”
Dropping the boxes from the warehouse onto his desk, I slide them towards him. “That’s everything Michael had, but if Luca was tampering with evidence, then it goes further than a few bent cops. We’re talking re-trials and a backlog that’ll go on for years,” I warn.
“I know, Bhodi, but this is a cross we’ll have to bare for now.”
He leans back in his chair, eyeing the two large boxes. “I want them all gone, one way or another.”
He looks to me, a glare in his eyes that tells me he isn’t messing around.
“Understood.”
“What are you going to do?”
he asks curiously.
“Right now…”
I briefly look towards the window, the passing traffic swarms around New York City. “Make things right with Summer.” I smile.
“Enjoy your early retirement I guess.”
Holding out his hand, I shake it. Giving a quick nod before heading out the door, closely followed by both Axe and Jimmy.
Stepping out into the squad room one final time, I glance around. The few officers that I once was civil towards now scarcely look towards me, their eyes avert as soon as I step outside of the office. I agreed to come here one final time. With my name now fully cleared, the few that had a hand in my arrest will now constantly look over their shoulders. With the news beginning to quickly spread about the murder of Captain Dean and the few officers that accompanied him to the warehouse, it won’t take much for this to all begin to fall apart. People are scared, but they’re only out for themselves.
The commissioner now has all the evidence, to do with how he sees fit. Spotting a couple loitering patrol cops in the doorway, they look me up and down before moving out of the way as we proceed towards the stairs. Descending the flights, a feeling of levity begins to fall over me but I know it’ll be short lived. Approaching the main doors of the precinct, I see the waiting press all stood outside waiting for the commissioner to appear. When the lift doors finally open, his security team move him quickly through the lobby and out towards the press, followed by the two officers I had just seen upstairs, clutching onto the boxes of evidence.
When the doors open, there’s a roar of frantic persistent voices, microphones and cameras thrust into their faces. The press pushing the barriers as uniformed officers try their best to hold them back. It’s chaos, but they want the truth as we all do.
“I will make a statement later today. Now please, I have work to do,”
the commissioner commands.
Stepping outside the door, I observe the circus forming around the commissioner and his team, but it happens in a flash.
“GUN GUN!”
The three shots ring through the crowd and everyone drops to the floor as cries of help circle the tightly woven group of people. I feel my body shunted to the ground; heavy boots fly down the steps of the precinct. Watching the scene unfold, everyone swarms the commissioner, his security team immediately trying to pull him towards the waiting car, but when he begins to stagger, they lift him and throw him into the vehicle. The tyres screech across the road and tear away from the street as fast as possible.
The crowd continues to grow, onlookers watching to catch a glimpse of what the hell just happened. Pushing through the vast group of people, we manage to fight our way down the stairs and move as quickly as possible from the precinct and away from the mass forming at the front entrance. Sirens and blue lights blare through the busy street, taxis stuck in the traffic jump on their horns and the crowds are already pushing against us. We eventually manage to steer off into a side street. Pressing my back against the wall, I glance up and down the busy roads unsure if our plan worked. Hearing my phone ringing, I quickly slide it from my pocket and answer.
“Yeah.”
“You’re right, the boxes are heading in a different fucking direction,”
the commissioner sounds exasperated.
“Our agreement stands?”
I ask, a smirk crawling along my lips as I lock eyes with both Jimmy and Axe.
“It does, kid, nice work.”
He lets out a weary sigh. “Luca is yours, but the SWAT team will follow you to the drop off. We arrest our lot, as agreed. Now get on the road, I need to get this fucking fake blood out of my good coat,”
he scoffs, before hanging up.
“We good?”
Axe asks, glancing down towards the moving dot on his phone.
“Good to go.”
“Alright let’s move, the car is around the block.”
Jimmy begins to move from the alley, we all pick up the pace. Our hearts beginning to race and our feet pounding on the sidewalk. The end is in sight, I can almost fucking taste it.
Finally reaching the car, I barely have a second to close the door before Jimmy pulls away, erratic swerves, over taking and quick turns. My hand locks around the door handle, barely able to keep still in my seat as we weave in and out of the traffic. Axe occasionally barks orders from the backseat, but I zone it all out. Eventually the roads go quiet, as we’re led away from the busy city. My hands begin to twitch, the tracking has stopped on the outskirts of the city, somewhere near an old slaughterhouse.
Seems fitting.
And soon I feel my dark humour setting in. I pull out my phone, looking through the maps to get a better idea of the surroundings, the best place to approach from, but soon the miserable-looking rundown brick building nears, Jimmy pulls the car around the side, obscuring the car by a broken brick wall. Once the ignition is switched off, shots ring through the building followed by muffled shouting.
“Fuck sake, go!” I shout.
Sprinting from the car, Jimmy follows behind as Axe heads up the stairs towards the roof with his AK in hand. Kicking open the door, I don’t even think as we throw ourselves into the darkness, voices bounce off the walls and shots continue to echo through the empty building. With my gun raised, my feet tap through the damp puddles. Checking behind me, Jimmy gives me a nod as we round the corner and walk straight into a fucking shit show.
“What the fuck?”
I mutter, my gun still raised.