1985 - Chicago - Prologue
It is 1985.
Human and Equines live within the same cities, the same families, work at the same jobs.
Due to several un-specifiable reasons, the Cold War lasts ever longer as a technological development slowdown from a previous economic slowdown in the 70s takes hold and the Soviet Union has begun to win, instead of lose, in Afghanistan.
However, there is one thing that continues to thrive in the environment of uncertainty, especially in a special place in America.
Criminalism and the money that fuels it.
A 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, followed by a van, screech to a halt right infront of a bank.
The van's side door slides open, a bee line of seven ponies walking out from each. Four of them taller than the others whose silhouettes betrayed the presence of duffelbags and guns in their hands.
The tallest one, his face obscured by a wolf mask, points into the bank as he keeps a firm grasp on his Kalashnikov, an AKM with a folding stock. Nifty for the close quarters fighter. His black suit, a cheap one atleast, was nicely pressed, his tie a nice grey color that contrasted against the thick white shirt and his balaclava.
"Go! Go!" he yells in a noticeable Eastern European accent, two others just nearly his size passing by with similar weapons, while another, her face covered by a Fox mask, walks up to him, cocking her shotgun. An Ithaca 37, with perfectly finished wooden furniture. Her black gloved hands tapped against the pump handle.
"You sure this'll work out, 'Wolf'?" The wolf masked individual nods, patting her shoulder as he looks at the crew run into the bank, pushing open the doors and beginning to yell.
"Yeah..." he says in an almost blank tone of voice, looking at her before yawning, stretching out his long arms and groaning, a few vertebrae in his back popping and snapping. He looks back over at her.
"Mafia has provided us the right guns and the shit to do the job, we'll be---" Three gunshots go off in the bank, a ruckus of screaming emitting from inside as the two look over. They both flinch, looking through the glass doors of the bank to see their other comrades pointing guns and yelling. Ofcourse, there was a casualty, 'Wolf' thought to himself, rolling his eyes behind the mask, scanning the teller's stands to just see the speckle of blood splatter.
"They've killed someone already." he deadpans, blinking while Fox adjusts the mask to fit her better. She looks over, her 'fox mask' being reminiscent of the old Kitsune masks from Japan. She was quiet, before the radio turned on, emitting a small round of white noise.
"We've shot." a radio blurts out from Wolf's tool belt, the small portable orange and plated in chrome for its control board. He shakes his head, walking to his Chevy, gun above his head.
"We can tell. Come on and hurry it up, I don't want to die my first heist, you hear?" he takes his finger off the microphone button, the radio completely silent, before another round of static emits from it, signalling someone had just pressed their button.
"You're so full of shit, Wolf." a masculine voice interjects into the conversation, the Wolf snickering to himself. In the background, he could hear the begging of a bank goer and 'Bear' threatening the tellers and telling them to give him the 'dough'.
"You took some time to take your brave pills, Slug." a growl comes from the other end before Wolf turns it off, looking down the street as he taps it against his belt, trying to find the right point.
He clips the radio back onto his belt, tapping the top of his red car on a white stripe with his leather gloves, concealing his true coat color. Everyone seemed to have left the street as soon as the crew inside began shooting. It will only be a matter of time before some person makes the call to 911.
He cocks his gun, the hammer pulling back smoothly before snapping back into place. He looks behind him to see Fox right beside the van peeking from behind it in her suit. "See anything yet?" he calls back.
"No..."
The distant whine of police sirens reach both of their ears, both of them looking at eachother as a breeze comes in. "Is it coming from your side... Or..." she shakes her head, looking up at the buildings to her left.
The apartments here are nice, but old. Most of them dated back to the 1930s, when this was a migrant neighborhood. Bank has been around here quite a bit too, as far as Wolf knows, but according to the Mafia, this bank is one of the least secured slash covered banks by the police.
He taps his shoe against the pavement, anxious. The mask didn't help at all, the damn thing rather uncomfortable and the straps of a cheap fabric that got caught on his fur and pulled. But it's something.
He takes another peek at the bank, seeing the crew in there running about with duffelbags in one hand and guns in the other, talking to eachother about something he could not discern. All six of them were friends, roommates in an old house out in the slightly seedy neighborhoods of Chicago.
However, they could only barely pay the bills, and the desire to do something more with their lives had become more of a reality than an idea, when they got an offer from one of their connections to the mob to participate in a bank heist to prove 'their worth'.
Most of the stuff they have on was courtesy of Earl, the area mob boss. Wolf's Kalashnikov? It was infiltrated through customs from the Soviet Union itself. All of the weapon's Wolf's, or rather Fox's, crew had equipped were from the Mafia.
Two more gunshots come from inside of the bank, before three ponies, one a mare and two of them stallions, run out carrying duffel bags of cash. Two of them unicorns, the third, the last stallion, a pegasus.
Fox quickly slides open the van, pointing in their with a finger for them to toss the bags in. "Where's the others?"
"We're not sure. Alli's gun jammed." the horned stallion spoke, his horn slightly pushing off the homemade slug mask that he wore. He tosses his duffelbag inside, Wolf sneaking a glimpse of what was inside through a segment of opened zipper: Money.
Lots of money.
Suddenly, the echo of the police sirens get louder, Wolf looking back at his side only to see three police cars. His eyes widen in surprise behind his mask, taking a step back as he looks back at Fox.
"We gotta get out of here, Fox!" Wolf barks as he flicks the safety off and unfolds the rather flimsy stock of his weapon, leveling the firearms at the cars as they approached.
Attempting to aim was a pain. His hands, arms, everything in his body shook from a deadly cocktail of different emotions the likes of anxiety, fear, and excitement. Even his physical characteristics were working to his disadvantage, as every 'minute' adjustment was frustratingly slippery due to his strength swinging the gun around like a toy.
Finally, he meets his targets as they come in, fifty meters away now. He lines up his crosshairs with the lead police vehicle, their sirens continuing to blare and mixing with the conversation between his crew.
Depressing the trigger, a big rush of force hits his shoulder through the stock as he lets out a burst of ten bullets, struggling to keep the thing from going up and either slamming his face or just getting out of hang. He lets go of the trigger, the trigger guard barely big enough to reserve space for his finger.
The bullets all strike the cars with obvious results. Destroying two windshields aswell as just holing up the fronts of the two lead cars, the charge undertaken by the police is stopped as the officers slide to a stop just a few meters ahead. They all get out from their cars, pistols in hand.
A crescendo of returning pistol fire is let loose, the bullets whizzing by Wolf's head and striking his car in two places, much to Wolf's dismay. He dives into the door of his car while the two others from inside the bank run out from the door, duffelbags hanging on their shoulders.
As they run, one member of the group, Alli, wearing the mask of an alligator, gets shot in the shoulder, the stallion screaming in pain as he drops to the ground. The fabric around the impact area seemed to be torn and bloodied, blood splatter on the ground.
However, Wolf was in no position to help, a shotgun slug passing through the glass next to him reminding him of that. He lifts his assualt rifle above his head, peppering the line of police wildly with the weapon, before it clicks. He's out of ammunition.
"Oh shit!" the stallion exclaims, just as more shots pepper his car and the van. It was at this time that finally, the others began laying suppressing fire on the police and he was let out from sitting behind his car as he jams a mag into his gun, pulling back the charging handle.
He sees Slug pulling Alli back to safety by his collar, Alli still holding his AR-15 in his left hand as his right arm clenches the wounded left arm's bicep. He cringes, the pain in Alli's body language apparent even though his face was obscured by the large mask he wore to conceal his identity.
He stands up to immediately see a police officer jerk in place before falling over, dead from a blast from Fox's shotgun. The sound of its pump action was heard beside him, Wolf looking at her as she stares back. "Get in your car! Everyone, get in your assigned car! Go!" a blue horned unicorn came from behind the van, simply wearing a skimask, lugging her own little satchel bag.
She carried with her a AR-15 carbine, a rather cheap one, as a matter of fact. She slides right up next to him, as more police came down the same road while the others were pinned behind their cars.
Leaning against his car this time, Wolf lays down some more fire, getting off five more shots, before looking at his partner almost expectantly, but she seemed to be busy doing something with her satchel, getting out a magazine. She presses a button on her gun, letting its own magazine fall to the floor to clatter and rattle. She swipes it up, throwing it back into her bag.
The mare, as she puts in a new clip into her AR-15, looks up at him as she fights with the gun's charging handle."Comeon, Wolf! Get in your car and start it up!" he grunts, quickly scrambling for the door's lever to open it up. He swings it open, almost slamming it into the mare's side as she runs across the width of the car to get into the driver side's seat, the only other seat apart from the driver's and the hopelessly cramped back seats.
He groans in dismay, looking over all the bullet holes in the car door, before sliding in, jamming in the keys for the ignition into the slot as he closes the door. The engine turns over with Wolf jerking back and forth the manual transmission into reverse.
He looks over at his partner, yelling in her ear over the renewed firefight unfolding as the van exchanged fire with new police responders and what was left of the first wave. "Shade, fucking cover me as I try to reverse us out of here!" she nods, clearing the broken glass from the frame of her door window using her gun barrel, before poking it out and firing ten consecutive shots at the car pile up.
As she does this, another shot comes from a brave officer with a shotgun, most of the pellets slamming into another car beside Wolf's Chevelle, while the rest, a tiny portion of the actual yield, hits harmlessly on the side of his car. The mare turns her attention to him, squeezing out two more shots before striking him in the arm. He grabs his arm in pain, dropping his weapon as he gets down behind cover - his car.
He looks through the back window, seeing the van and two more police cars coming in that parked conveniently on the side of the road. The engine hums as it propels itself backwards past the van, the stallion turning the steering wheel in the process of doing a three point turn.
As he does so, he sees the last person get into the van, sliding the door closed hard enough to shake the entire thing. It goes over the Chevy's former parking spot, following Wolf and Shade as they sped past the police cars, the police officers attempting to fire at them as they pass.
They immediately round a corner, drifting a bit as the stallion works the brakes and accelerator with relative skill, the van following suite quickly after as Wolf tears off his mask and rib knitted balaclava, revealing a blue coated, red eyed stallion with quite the shaggy, unkempt mane. He gasps for air, blinking as he continues to drive.
"That fucking thing is hot as shit, especially in this weather." Shade does the same thing, sliding off her skimask up her horn before throwing it down, showing less of a reaction. She simply nods, reloading her gun and finishing quick with a pat on the bottom of the magazine. She was a navy blue unicorn with a flowing mane and blue eyes.
"You don't say, Brawny. Whats worse is that your mane just piles up in that thing and traps all the head." she deadpans, putting the gun at her feet as she laid back her head. The radio starts up again with some static, the mare opening an eye as Brawny brings up the radio from his tool belt.
"You alright up there? Any cops?" it was Fox on the line. She seemed nervous and on edge, on account of her shaky voice and deep sighs. He steers around a random car, a black Volvo with a human driver. He puts more strength into the accelerator, the car's engine moaning as the car went faster.
"Not that I can see. Everything alright with Cherry?" he takes his finger off the button, holding the radio just above his temple as he awaited an answer. He looks over at his gun, splayed across the area between the two seats that he and his colleague sat, before putting down the radio for a minute and taking a magazine from within his suit from a compact harness pocket, one of which was with a nearly empty magazine.
"Luna, reload my gun?" he looks over to her, seeing that she was looking through the broken window. Her mane flickered in the wind as he catches her attention, her mouth idly open before she blinks, seeing the magazine in his hand. "Oh, sure." she simply says, taking the sheet metal clip and doing her business with his firearm.
He swipes up the radio just as the static returns and Fox does so aswell. "Not good, the bullet may have hit his bone, according to Twilight..." she seems to keep her button depressed for a pause, the blue stallion looking at the walkie talkie inquisitively, almost as if it were a person.
"That Volvo that was beside you... It's trailing us... Hol-- FUCK!" a speaker talking seems to come out of the blue, before three gunshots are heard on her side, Luna stopping what she was doing, looking up at Brawny. He stares back, before looking back on the road, then his left mirror.
"Its an undercover police officer! We've got two cop cars on us!" He could see the Volvo and its driver with a cop car beside it, an officer popping out from a passenger side window with a snub-nosed revolver. Brawny quickly puts down the radio, just as Luna finishes up with the Kalashnikov and slides on her skimask.
The stallion gets his own, fitting it on easily before gliding to the left. He puts a hand out, signalling to the van for them to move up while he eases on the pedal, slowing down enough for the van to pass by. Within the span of a minute or two, he was now behind the van, looking at the rear view mirror to see the chasers.
"This is the Chicago Police Department, pull over immediately!" the stallion sticks his arm out the window, giving them the bird.
"Fuck off!" he yells in an unusually heavy accent, before nudging Luna. She nods, snaking through the hole in the window with the AR-15 in hand. She leans on the door, before firing two shots. He swerves to avoid a car coming out from an adjacent street, the mare slightly slipping as a result but staying relatively still.
The cop cars, quickly after the two shots from his colleague, swerve to get out of her field of fire as she lets off three more rounds, the ejected brass flying out and shining in the sunlight. The retaliation is swift, however, as three more shots from the police hit Brawny's car, the sharp thuds and slams from the bullets making impact scaring Luna back into the car.
He notices the Volvo beginning to gain on him on the his left, the stallion clenching the steering wheel hard, baring his teeth as he swerves left, feigning an attack.
The plainclothes cop is fooled, braking almost into his uniformed colleagues behind him before realizing the trick. Brawny slams his foot against the pedal, the engine crying out at a low pitch. By now, the van was about a hundred meters from his car, and just ahead, he could see that they were getting closer to the one of the Mafia's safehouses.
He looks behind him, the cops still hot on his tail while Luna pops out again, shooting off a few more rounds, but more so just to scare them, it seemed. Her shots were obviously just zipping past the cars or hitting them in the most ineffectual areas, but he needed to lose them. Looking to Luna, he nudges her again with his elbow as he focuses on the road.
"Take my gun, and aim for the Volvo driver. I'm going to try to lure him onto my right and when I say go, you pepper that motherfucker!" he explains to her over the engine and subsequent gunshots from behind, one hitting his dashboard and sending bits of plastic and glass from a dial. He flinches as the debris hits him in the face.
"But wouldn't the car, going out of control, hit us?" she asks, ducking down as two more bullets make their way through the back window. He shakes his head, patting her on the shoulder repeatedly, or rather lightly slapping it. "Do it now! We need to lose these guys before they send in something else from the air to track us down with, then we're fucked!" he growls, taking a hand and sending it into her waiting hands.
She gulps, setting the firemode to automatic before nudging her AR-15 into a spot more comfortable for her. Brawny does just what he said, 'wandering' slowly to the left. However, instead of the Volvo, a squad car comes in, two police officers, both human, looking directly at Red as he looks on with disappointment. He lays his head back against his seat's headrest.
Luna looks at him, the stallion nodding quickly before she pops out again, except with the AKMS. The reaction is immediate, but it's too late for the officers as he peppers 7.62x39mm, all 30 rounds of the new magazine, into the car.
The windshield buckled and broke with the sheer amount of bullets penetrating it, five bullets making their marks on both targets. The driver's head hits the steering wheel of his car as it drifts inwards towards Brawny's car, almost performing an accidental pit maneuver, though denied by Brawny's attentiveness as he speeds up, looking in the rear view mirror.
The car drifts into the way of the other cars, one of the cop cars slamming into it while the other two, the Volvo and a new squad car, hit their brakes, skidding to a stop. Luna slides back in, slouching on the back of her seat as Brawny puts the pedal to the metal, catching up with the van.
"So, Celestia, your crew came out relatively intact. Surprising, considering how much of a bunch of greenhorns you guys are."
"Just cut the chatter, Chase. How much is Earl giving us?" Fox, or rather Celestia with her alabaster coat, long, white horn, and tricolored mane, leaned on the wall with an apprehensive face. Brawny, Luna, Twilight, and the other three ponies stood behind her, Brawny holding onto his assault rifle, his large hand wrapping around the main body of it.
The room was dimly lit by a hanging light bulb with a pull string, the stereotypical meeting point for any shady deals, in America, at least. There was a table and a single chair, which sat a wiry human with a goatee and glasses, armed with a devious smirk. He takes off his glasses, blinking as he takes in a breath.
"Odd how such newcomers to this country, or for some of you, part, were able to find their way around really quick. A Czech, three Germans, two of whom are lovers apparently, a guy from Ireland, and two New Yorkers who are sisters, and all are horses! What a time we live in now, eh?" Celestia huffs, squinting at him, staring daggers into him. Chase sighs, going into the bags and taking at least 250 bundles of one hundred dollar bills from the bags, there still being a sizable amount left with him.
He pushes it towards them, the tall alabaster unicorn looking down at it before staring at him. He folds his arms, his tie contrasting against his blue undershirt that lay underneath his gray suit. "Chase, that's only twenty five thousand dollars, what about the rest?"
"The rest is going to Earl. It was part of our agreement. For the stuff we gave you guys, we would take atleast fifty five percent, which is what we did, off your hands to pay back for it." the mare groans in disappointment, putting a hand to the base of her horn, her fingers parting around it. Brawny looks back, seeing his tired colleagues, one of which, Cherry, has his wound covered with multiple layers of bandages that clamped down on his bloodied suit. He gives a slightly genuine smile, before looking to somewhere else in the room. He lived up to his name in that he was literally cherry colored. His coat was a cherry pink and the only thing notably different were his eyes, which were blue.
He looks back at Chase and Celestia, the mare still with her hand on her forehead before she speaks. "How much did we actually get, speaking of which." Chase looks up, as if he were thinking, looking down at the duffelbags of cash. He clears his throat before speaking.
"Around forty five thousand dollars. Good job, but it could've been bigger if you weren't so keen on getting out that quick." he kids, Celestia glaring at Chase again. He snickers, especially at the sight of Luna coming from behind to comfort her. Twilight sighs, the lavender colored unicorn leaving the room through the door that was left open behind them.
"The police responded quicker than we thought. If we stayed there, we would've been trapped and then arrested, or worse. What did you expect us to do, anyways? Attempt to go further into the building to see if they left some more cash lying around on carts or something? They had bars and bulletproof glass, for Christ's sakes, Chase! I almost lost Cherry to the cops!" Celestia defended herself, taking two long steps forward and standing over the human, jabbing a finger into his face, stopping just short of his nose. However, he is unaffected, moving her finger away.
"Calm down, Celestia. Don't get so emotional after your first heist when you hear about where you fucked up. Your friend's car might lead the police here, but do we really care? No.What we really do care about is the outrage you guys sparked with how many cops you killed. I'm sorry to say but killing the cops just fuels their anger for you guys." he points at Brawny, the stallion now smoking a cigarette with his gun leaning on the door way. He looks up, raising an eyebrow, before looking behind him into the other room, where there sat a couch and a TV, along with some other furniture. The smell of reheated, microwaved pizza enters the room.
"Ontop of that, yes, you should've tried going through and getting some more money. Would help you have a bit more money especially considering we're going to be repairing and painting your friend's car." Celestia backs away as he explains, before heaving a sigh. She moves her skin, or rather pelt, around with her fingers, before turning around.
"I see... Well, I'm going to watch TV with---" she breaks free of Luna's comforting grasp, her sister holding out her hand for her other, but then, Chase clears his throat. He tapes his shoe against the vinyl flooring as he puts on his glasses.
"Hold on there, Celestia. Earl has a new job for you guys." the mare stops, looking at him at just the limit of how much her eyes could turn to see him. The blue stallion looks up from staring idly at the floor, taking out his cigarette before blowing out the smoke.
"Earl wants you and your crew to go accompany one of our dealers to a meeting with a gang on Saturday in the Projects. He'll give you guys eighty thousand dollars to do the job, considering our customer and the supply he's requested. Get it done properly and try not to make too much of a ruckus or bring attention to yourselves and you get the money just for that. Do you want to take this?" Chase takes out a folder, sliding out printer paper, extending his hand with the paper. Celestia turned around, walking over to take it. She turns it about, her eyes scanning along sentences of various information about the job. She blinks, before looking at Chase.
She nods,
"I'll do it."
Author's Note
I've had this idea since I've seen Riding Bean a few months ago, along with The Gunsmith Cats. Although this is a lame tribute to Riding Bean and the Gunsmith Cats little mini-series, I feel as though its a pretty good one-shot/ possible story project.
Just kidding, this might become a small project.
