Ally's Revenge (Part 1 complete, Part 2 in progress)

Chapter 1

*Picture: Google Image search, Travis Fimmel as the character Damien McGinnis*

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Author Note:
This is my very first shot at writing anything.

So PLEASE go easy on me....If you don't like the story, don't read it, there is no need for negative comments.

Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Thanks! - BC
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Chapter 1

Damien

Another night of this misty, rainy, crappy weather. At least the weather fits my mood. I take one last look in my rearview mirror to try to straighten out my shaggy blonde hair. The few ladies I have dated over the years like my hair to be a little longer, but years of being in the service has gotten me used to it being shaved. I let it grow out over these past few years, long enough that its almost falling into my blue eyes. I put my hat on, lock the car, and head into the bar.

Steven told me to be here at seven. I hate this bar. I have been in here twice, maybe three times, each time there was the same old regulars, the same bartender, and I swear the same old sappy country song playing on the jukebox. The building itself is old, built in about the 1940's and renovated into "Ranky Stanks" in the 1970's. From the looks of this place, it had to have been a biker bar. Considering the neighborhood it's in, I can't believe the preservation society hasn't picketed to tear this place down. The main structure is brick, but somewhere along the way, someone put up wooden siding, giving the place a rustic feel. It might have looked good when it was first done, but at this moment, the place is in desperate need of a makeover.

I walk in to see my coconspirator deep into his cup.

"Damien! We've got one!" exclaimed Steven, in his 'I'm off the clock' drunken slur.

"Really? And I thought you called this meeting to see my sexy face. Who's the hit this time?"

Steven looks me right in the eye and whispers, "She's a crime scene investigator. Photographer from my understanding."

"A freaking crime scene investigator? Are you trying to get us locked up for life?" As much as I love my lifelong friend, I would kill him if we were in a cell together for the rest of my life.

I have to admire his balls, but this one will really test us and after the last incident, I'm not sure we're up to being tested.

"This will be the last one and it will pay the Fucile's off," Steven promised.

"Alright, set it up. But I'm telling you, this is the last one! And no guns! Get your big ass Buck knife if you have to have something but no guns! If she really is a CSI, this is going to be hell to pull off to begin with, we don't need any bodies lying around, and then local cops on a vendetta because we got one of theirs killed."

"Alright, it will be either this Thursday or the next, depends on when Luke gets back into town."

"Luke? If he's in, I'm out!"

We were as close as brothers when we were boys, but our lives took different paths. I joined the military, Steven took over his family car lot and is the ultimate cliché of a used car salesman, and Luke...Well, Luke never grew up. He spends half his time on cocaine, the other half in jail.

"Dude, Chill...We need Luke. He's the one that found the job anyways so we can't cut him out," Steven explains.

"Then cut me out," I say and he can tell I'm serious.

"You know I can't. We need you. I'll talk to him. No guns, no coke...he's not as bad as he used to be. He wants out as bad as we do. I'm sure he won't screw this up with so much riding on it. It won't be like last time, I promise."

"I'm telling you now, if I show up and he's high, I'm walking away and you're on your own."

"Who pissed in your cheerio's? It'll work out, I promise." Steven said with a wink and a smile.

"Yeah, well you promises are worth shit to me. Just make sure he knows what I said and that I'm serious. No guns, no coke. Period. "

"I'll call you in two days to work out the specifics."

"After this is done, pretend I'm dead. I don't want to see you or Luke for the rest of my life."

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