Ichor || mxb

XI

The Red Ryders; a gang in control off all drug transport in over 38 countries, a horde widely spread out that they were ultimately the main source of economy in 11 countries.

Patently, with the said's power threatening theirs, officials off every piece of land on god's green earth willed the lord of the gang dead or alive. Just gone. Most governments maybe have taken it personally, as the numerous billions put under his name seemed rightfully theirs, at least it was the only sane way to think.

With over 640 offenses traced back to him, they are yet to find anything about him. Ethan Grant was the biggest mystery known to the world, a ghost. Simply impossible to locate or even identify. 10 years of them chasing around in circles, only to realize the tail they have been chasing is only a mocking bait. Everytime.

A reputation like that has only assured the gang that no harm should come their way. At least as long as the criminal mastermind was around to keep their worries at bay.

With such a strapping reputation atop their name, it came as quiet a bombshell when 'code 99' was bouncing off every mouth and wall in the manor.

The cops were onto their ass.

Alas, with Ethan being the mastermind he is, they were well prepared... mostly.

The poise and confidence he had in himself might have forced him to finish the blunt placed between his fingers before calmly and slowly strolling through his cabin. Picking up this and that.. mostly shiny things that seemed to appease his intoxicated brain.

The sound of the bubbling jacuzzi was only a blend-in with every scream and demand that rung through the manor.

A knock at the door broke the drug dealer's coo-coo phase, making the hairs on the back of his neck slightly rise. The possibility of danger fastening his beating heart.

"Boss we need to be on the move now." Isaac's slightly panicked voice gave light to Ethan about how seriously dangerous this is.

Grabbing the last of his belongings, long legs scurried towards the door with a wobbly stance.

As the boss and his bandit continued down the stairs hurriedly, Isaac kept rambling about what was ordered for the evacuation.

The cash being transported to an untraceable location, another house already set up with everything they need as they speak and the thing's they've lost in the process.

Ethan walked alongside, not sparing the stressed man wittering next to him a second glance, hands in his pockets. It looked almost as if he was walking down a silky road, expecting him to start whistling at at any moment.

Catching the glistening of his black McLaren F1 GT, an unusual rush of adrenaline overtook the blood pumping through his veins. This was upshot of eyeing the vehicle, Ethan was almost sure that soon enough an arousal could start sporting between his knees if he started driving.

A jostle busted his little bubble of admiration towards the non-living, a walkie talkie thrusted into his hands, as each gang member was to be in a car in order for them to collect as many cars as possible.

The cool expensive leather against his warm body, the exquisite steering wheel that was intact between his fists, and the pleasurable roaring of the engine were enough to make the unappeasable of people drool, including Ethan.

Turning the radio on, 'you can be the boss' by Lana Del Rey blasted through the numerous speakers amplifying from each direction within the car.

The second the word 'daddy' reached the narc's eardrums, the vast wrench of his gut forced him to step on the breaks with a force enough to pierce right through the car and asphalt altogether.