chapter one: do you like to hurt people?
I jolted up from my bed as an unexpected call had woken me up. Groaning I got up and went over to the answering machine, I pressed the play button and let it play barley being able to listen because of how sleepy i felt.
"Hi this is 'Tim' at the bakery. The cookies that you ordered should be delivered by now...A list of ingredients are included... make sure
that you read them carefully!" CLICK....
The sleepiness that had enveloped my body before was now gone replaced by red hot rage and fury the leather gloves i were wearing made a slight sound of leather rubbing against leather but i didn't care. As i passed my dinner table i swiped my helmet off it grabbing the keys to my bike after it. The wooden door to my apartment creaked open and i came out seeing a package on the door i ripped it open seeing a letter i picked it up beginning to read what was printed onto it.
The target is a briefcase. Discretion is of essence.
Leave target at point F-32, inside the dumpster.
Failure is not an option. We'll be watching you.
Somehow i knew where this 'pint F-32' was and what it looked like, I shook my head and put the motorcycle helmet on as i descended the wooden stairs of my grimy apartment building. Reaching the bottom i saw the light from the street lamps outside, I pushed open the glass door and walked to the parking lot seeing my cyan motorcycle come into view i sprinted for it hearing the sound of my sneakers thudding against the cold concrete as i made my way to it. Upon reaching the bike i got on and put the key in turning on the engine i smiled and lifted my kickstand up with my foot and began driving. The sound of the engine was the only thing i heard as i drove down the lone streets of Miami not seeing a single person in sight as i drove past numerous shops and houses. Even though i couldn't see anyone i knew i had some people to deal with and a job to do. As i got near the building i was supposed to go to a small part of me questioned if this was right or what if i got caught but another part of me said that it wasn't me who was committing the crime it was the biker
