Crime Story

This story is meant to set up a larger one told in multiple parts. There isn't any sex in this chapter. Please remember that all of this is fiction, and meant for entertainment. Enjoy.

*****

There were sirens blaring outside. There were more in the distance from the sound. Jon Anger peaked out towards the vast army of lights and sirens and guns, and groaned to himself. Jon Anger- the most dangerous criminal in the world. Jon Anger- the great womanizer. Jon Anger- trapped inside a bank with his crew and 52 hostages. The whole thing was almost comical.

He had been betrayed, of course, but who or why was impossible to know at this point. Someone had talked to the FBI. Someone had tipped them off that they would be robbing the Bank of the United States in New York City at 12:12PM. It was all supposed to be so simple: A quick in and out, little trouble, little noise, and big profits for everyone. The prep for the job had taken months and months to sort out. Jon had assembled some of the best men and women he trusted to take part in the job- a regular all-star team. So much for all that, he thought bitterly.

He turned to his team. There were only four left now. Ron Irish, Willy Stroud, Talie Gould, and Caitlyn "Cat" Cross. Igor had been the first out the door, and he caught a chest full of bullets before he'd even seen the ambush waiting for them. They had fought their way back into the Bank, and since then the unholy scourge of cops had come down upon them like the wrath of an angry god. Everyone's faces were grim, but no one was talking surrender. They all knew the score, and they had all been playing the game for a long while. He gave them that classic smile and said, "I think we should be probably be leaving now."

"Front door is out," Cat said, as she peaked to get a better look outside, "Any ideas?" she asked, before adding, "Holy shit there's a lot of them."

"Backdoor is probably a no go by this point," Ron pointed out. He stroked his beard of surfer blonde hair. "Maybe the roof? Jump all Assassin's Creed-style and make our getaway?"

"In New York City?" Talie asked dryly, she rolled her eyes and looked at Jon. "You know your bleeding, right?"

"Ron, dude, seriously!" Stroud said taking a peak out the window.

"Holy SHIT! There are a lot of them of there!" Ron exclaimed. "Do you think there are anymore cops in New York?"

"Yep, not too bad. I'll be fine." Jon glanced at the wound. He was not going to be fine, but he knew what he had to do. He needed to get his team out. He owed that to them at least. "Look, guys, I've been giving this a lot of thought. I think we are going to have to go to plan R."

"Jon, are you kidding?" Talie demanded.

"Wait, what?" Will asked, looking back and forth confused.

"Plan R?" Cat asked.

"Dude, what happened to plans B through Q?" Ron demanded annoyed.

"Nope, its got to be plan R. Look through my bag, there is enough explosives to blow a hole through the back wall. You guys change into civilian clothes before you leave, ditch the weapons, and walk to the subway two blocks over. Everyone goes their separate ways, no one gets caught."

"Yeah, except once we are out of sight the hostages are going to make a run for it and tell everyone where we went."

"And the money."

"Fuck the money. Forget it, this job is a total wash."

"The Empress isn't going to like that."

"And..." he sighed, immediately regretting the words as soon as they came out, "Don't worry about the hostages because I'm gonna stay here and keep them and the Feds busy. I'm gonna load a bunch into the vault, release the rest just before the explosion, and stay behind until your all clear."

"C'mon man," Willy said, "we're not gonna leave you behind."

"Likewise." Talie said, her eyes flashing.

"Agreed." Ron said.

"Agreed." Cat nodded.

Jon couldn't but feel a little touched. Honor among thieves, and all. But he knew there were extenuating circumstances. "I'm down for the count. The fact is, that if I start moving around too much, I'm gonna blow the whole thing, and I'll bleed out long before we can get anywhere friendly. I wouldn't go back to base either. Whoever called in the whole deal likely gave that up too."

There was a pause of silence. But one by one, they all nodded. Jon groaned as Willy and Ron helped him to his feet. They shook hands, exchanged hugs, and started to get their things together. Talie gave him a hug and a kiss goodbye. Cat did the same. She whispered in his ear, "We'll come for you when we can."

They quickly made their change of clothes, and in the bowls of the building, Willy and Ron got the wall wired up to go. Hostages were moved to the vault, the others were set go when directed. When everything was ready, Jon picked up the phone and called the FBI.

**

Outside the building, at the command center, Victoria Powell directed officers into their proper positions. She had come a long way, but she had finally trapped the fox. The trick now was to make sure that he stayed trapped. After three years, countless hours, and a lot of dead bodies on both sides, she had come to never count out her opponent. She tried to think about what he would do. How he would think. She shook her head as she poured over maps and the layout of the building. Expect the unexpected, She thought. What would he do?

"Agent Powell, we have Jon Anger on the phone for you."

You've got to be fucking kidding.

She turned and took the cell phone, watching as more and more armored officers arrived and began moving into position. Their trap had worked almost perfectly, except that after the shooting started the officers responding the incident had created a massive mess of people, a gridlock, as people were trying to figure out what was going on. It had slowed down the process of getting the building sealed off.

"Hello, Mr. Anger. What can I do for you today?" she asked, trying to sound calm. She wasn't though. She wanted so badly to gloat, to rub it into his face, that in the end, she had finally won. She had beaten him.

"Hi, Vicky!!" he said in a singsong voice, that seemed a little slurred. It also that drove her absolutely crazy. "Interesting little situation we got here."

"Yeah, I wish I could have seen the look on your face when we jumped you as you were coming out."

"A good move, I'll give you that. You also killed one of my men."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Sorry hell, Igor had two kids."

"I think there has been plenty dead on both sides, Anger," she said, her mind drifting back to a few failed raids, her having to step over a lot of friends and coworkers. "So why don't you put down guns and have the whole lot of you surrender without anymore shooting. Let the hostages go free, and lets put an end to this. Otherwise, we're going to come in after you. You have no more moves Anger."

There was silence on the other end of the line. For a moment she thought that he had hung up. But then, the phone crackled back to life. He said the words in a cold voice that she had heard many times before, "Alright. We are coming out." The line clicked dead.

She felt a tingle go down her spine. She took her radio, "All units, eyes open and expect anything."

Just as she said this, the radio started going crazy as sharpshooters and spotters started calling in movement. Suddenly, the doors swung open and a host of people poured out of the bank, spewing out in all directions. "Everyone, don't let any of these people out of your sight, Anger and his men might be trying to slip out with the crowd!"

Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for the man whose crimes and whose capture she had dedicated years of her life to. She went forward into this crowd with other agents, scanning, searching for him, hand on her holster as she peered at the scared and blank faces looking for him.

Officers in swat uniforms moved into position, readying to storm the building. Powell caught something one of the hostages was saying. She turned to her, "What did you say?"

"I said there are still more hostages inside of there-"

Suddenly, there ripped an explosion, somewhere within the building, ripped forth with enough power that it blew out all of the windows from the ground floor up to the forth. A shower of broken glass and dust filled the air as Powell herself was knocked off her feet. Sirens raged around her, everything was anarchy. A feeling of horror went through her as she thought of the hostages still inside. No one could have survived this if they were left out in the open. Slowly, she got to her feet, and advanced with the swat team. The interior of the bank was destroyed. Debris was everywhere. Not a soul could be seen. She followed them down towards the source of the explosion, and came to the back of the building, where a number of injured and shattered bodies lay, moaning for help. There was chaos in all directions. People were spilling into the streets. A sick feeling of rage began to surge through her. She felt like she was going to throw up. She took her radio, "Secure the Southeastern side of the bank. Be advised that suspects have escaped, and are likely armed and extremely dangerous." She then threw her radio at the pavement as hard as she could smashing it and send pieces in every direction.

"Agent Powell," another agent approached her.

"What?" she demanded.

"We have him." He replied.

She quickly followed him to the bank vault, which contained within it a small fortune, 8 hostages- some in nothing but their underwear, and the unconscious body of Jon Anger.

Victoria Powell saw all of this, took in the entirety of his plan, along with the evidence surrounding her, and began to smile.

***

Victoria Powell accepted the congratulations of her fellow agents and superiors with modesty. She was frustrated with the escape of Anger's team, but was confident they would be caught eventually. In the meantime, she had just closed a career case, her case- THE CASE. Every single news outlet was on hand; everyone wanted to know her name and what she had been doing to finally bring in the famous Jon Anger.

Her first call went to her husband Sean. Her words, the only words she could manage to get out were, "I got him."

Back at the station, she was being feted and her superiors were talking about promotion, of regional positions, possible fast track to director, the whole world was opening up. But for some reason, it just didn't really any flavor to it. She didn't feel like celebrating. Part of it was knowing there were a whole lot of other people who had taken part in the great hunt, only to not survive to see this day. She ran through the names in her head, and silently raised a glass in their honor.

Slowly, she started to take more and more calls about Anger's medical prognosis. It would be a shame, after all, if he were to die after all that hard work. He had been improving with each call, until finally, he opened his eyes and was quite lucid. Without telling anyone, she went down to see him.

He was in a hospital gown, and for the first time, she saw him up close, in the daylight, and in the flesh. He was an average sized man, about 6'2'' or 6'3''. He had dark black hair, and a handsome chiseled face that made him look like he'd been carved from a statue. His body was incredibly muscular, and he had an incredible ornate tattoo of a dragon on his left arm. When she came in, his eyes opened. They were a deep green like grass in the spring.

"Hello, Agent Powell," he said. It was that deep voice she had heard over the surveillance microphones. He said it with respect.

"Hello, Jon," she said solemnly.

"My friends?" he asked.

"Escaped." She replied truthfully.

He sighed, and closed his eyes, "Then it worked."

He looked back at the women who had been the bane of his existence for the last few years. She had chased him like a shadow. She was a beautiful woman though. Red haired with dark eyes. Small feet. Elegantly dressed for a cop. Thin, but a good-sized chest. He assumed she must have children. Her skin was pale like cream.

"You forgive me for not getting up?" he gestured to the handcuff on his right arm. He smiled at her with that wolfish smile. It was a smile that sent a little spark through her body. As it did most women he met. In the time she had chase him, Victoria had never met a woman he had failed to charm, trick, or seduce. She had interviewed countless women who attested to his performance, his stamina, and his passion. But she never truly understood what they meant until now, as she saw him there. Even lying there on the bed, she had the sudden urge to move towards him and kiss him. She shook the thought from her head. I need to get laid, she thought.

"Get used to the handcuffs, their going be a permanent part of your life from now on." she snapped.

He scoffed, and looked at her as if she were insulting him, "I'd wager your wrong about that. I won't be in for a more than a year before I'm out."

"And how do you expect to do that?" she asked, rising to leave. This wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm going to use this," he said, pulling up the bottom of his hospital gown. He watched as her eyes widened at the sight. It was massive, the largest she had even seen. At least a foot long, maybe more, she thought. Her mouth went dry just looking at it. Still she managed to break her eyes away, and he pulled the gown back down.

"You still didn't answer my question." She said, ignoring the feeling between her legs. "How are you going to get out?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." He replied.

Victoria chuckled and shook her head, regaining some of her confidence. "I'll take that bet." She started towards the door.