Well, this is ominous as hell.
The coated man thought in his head as he walked the empty pavement. The silence of midnight slightly overwhelmed him from the inside. A cold sensation ran through his hands, so the man slipped his left hand into his coat's pocket to keep it warm, his right hand gripping the strap of his sling bag on his left side tightly.
He tried humming to himself to break the unnerving silence. It didn't work, so he tried talking to himself in his thoughts to keep him company. He had to admit, after seconds of making up words in his head, it might've worked. He quickly disregarded the ominous quietness in the streets of Philadelphia, he couldn't even notice the faint drops of rain that might've bothered him.
As it turns out, his tactic to distract himself worked a little too well, proved by a sudden streak that made him fall out of his balance. The man's tranquility in the middle of the unnerving atmosphere quickly shattered when something, or someone, pulled the sling bag away from his possession. The coated man shrieked as he felt his body suddenly shoved to the right violently, the strap of his bag going over his head, along with the actual bag being brought away by the unrecognizable figure shorter than him.
"Hey!" Yelled the man as he was too late to catch his bag back. Without any further hesitations, the man quickened his pace to catch up to the agile, hooded figure who robbed him.
It didn't matter who they were, or where they were going, the man was determined to get his sling bag back. What brought him on edge was the fact that sensitive information was in the bag that he was carrying. He was so close to his apartment which was a few blocks from where he was robbed, much to his dissatisfaction.
Adding to his annoyance was the lack of people that were present in the area. It would've been much easier if there were people around to help him get his bag, but he knew it was midnight. There was not a chance that a single person would be out in the streets at this time of the hour.
The drops of rain briskly became intense in a matter of minutes as he continued to run after the figure meters in front of him. The raindrops caused the pavement's surface to become wet, a little slippery, and dangerous to rush blindly on, yet the man didn't care. He just wanted his bag back, along with its contents still inside.
It hasn't been very far the man ran until his most of strength was drained. "Damn it," He muttered while he placed his arm against a corner where the figure disappeared into an alley. While taking a breath, he spotted the hoodie-wearing figure run into a construction site. Grumbling in annoyance, the man decided he had enough rest, and continued to follow the figure inside the building under construction.
Before he knew it, the man was greeted by a dark atmosphere blanketing the construction site. It was a lot quieter here than out there. The slight light coming from outside helped him notice where he was in the room. After walking up a wooden board that led to an elevated part of the unfinished building, he saw the same dark-hooded figure that robbed him. His sling bag opened, leaning at the feet of the figure while they faced away from the man.
The man lost his patience. It made him reach into his coat's inner pockets, pulling out a pistol with a silencer attached to its barrel. He aimed it at the figure firmly.
"Show's over, you bastard. Hand that over." Said the man in threat as he approached the unpredictable figure carefully.
As the man ordered, the figure put both of their hands up. Their right hand holds two rectangular shapes that are pieces of paper. This made the man a lot more upset, realizing the figure dug through his files in his sling bag.
"Drop it." The man gestured at the paper in the figure's right grip. But the figure didn't listen. Instead, they just froze, doing nothing instead of complying with his demand.
"I'm afraid he won't do as you say, Mr. Lang."
The man winced at his last name being called out by a voice from his side. Following the mysterious male voice is the sound of a pistol being primed by a singular click. Lang stood still in caution, suspecting a gun ready to shoot him if he did anything sudden. His hands still held the gun towards the hooded figure, but he slowly turned his head to the side to find out who called out to him. Lang could only see what appears to be another figure shrouded by the shadows, walking up to him slowly.
"Is that a gun?" Asked Lang.
"Smarter than you look," The voice taunted. "But yeah, I don't go anywhere without a gun. I'm not an idiot, unlike you who thinks someone like you can keep their secrets."
Keep their secrets? Lang pondered what the figure could mean. The only explanation would be that whoever robbed him and is currently holding him at gunpoint knows what he does, dirty work that no one can know of. No, Lang couldn't let them get to him.
"What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?" Lang said to play dumb, while also questioning the mysterious silhouette that was ready to shoot him if he did anything funny.
Soon enough, the figure revealed himself out of the shadows, the tip of his silenced handgun exposed by light before his entire figure was revealed. Out of the darkness came the figure of a male, quite surprisingly a young one, possibly at the age of seventeen according to Lang himself, with slick hair combed to the side, and notably a pair of blue eyes staring him down.
The boy that is Ryan Swift, revealed himself to Lang. Swift's presence left Lang in confusion. A literal child is holding him at gunpoint, much to Lang's displeasure.
"What the..."
"Ask your questions later, mister. Now, drop the gun, you're scaring my friend here." Swift instructed. Lang vaguely shook his head, reluctant to do what he said, knowing both ways wouldn't get him out of this.
"Drop it or I'll make you." Said Swift with a bright tone.
Looking at the situation, Swift didn't seem to be that big of a threat to Lang, according to Lang himself at least. Luckily he has another trick up his sleeve, so he could only think of one way out. In defeat, Lang gently lowered his gun to the floor, he got up again while raising both his arms in surrender after his pistol was placed below.
"Good." Still aiming his gun at Lang, Swift approached his partner, Thomas Rieger, the boy who stole Lang's sling bag.
Aware that Lang no longer had a gun to his head, Tom pulled the hood of his jacket off his head, revealing his short, black hair. Surprisingly to Lang, Tom is the same age as Swift. As Swift approached him, Tom handed the papers to Swift, which he accepted. Swift took out his phone and turned on the flashlight to brighten the paper. He is glad that the document Tom fetched is exactly the one he is looking for.
On the paper document was a hand-drawn table, with several columns to the side and multiple rows going downwards. In the main row, several names are written on each column and the columns beside were financial nominals. Another row of columns to the right of it shows how many pounds of illegal drugs each named person received.
"What the hell are you doing?" Said Lang, watching the two teenagers read the paper in their possession, making sure it was authentic enough. They didn't bother to answer his question.
"Alright, kids, you've had your fun with your... prank. Mind giving me that back?" Asked Lang a second time, with his hands still lifted. He was gradually losing his patience because of them ignoring his questions. Realizing that Swift and Tom were pretty much distracted by the paper, Lang dived and reached for his gun.
Hearing Lang's scuffle, Swift briefly panicked. With the gun in hand, Lang took no doubt to shoot the two teenagers, but he did it in such a quick fashion that none of the bullets from his gun hit one of them. Fired blindly, the bullets dug into a wall, creating a sound that warned Swift and Tom. They quickly parted, spreading out knowing Lang can't hit them both at the same time.
The darkness wasn't helping Lang. He couldn't see where they ran to take cover. He only guessed they hid behind the concrete pillars next to them. He was desperate enough to even attempt to injure them just to get his document back. But Lang took another thought, two bullets were already wasted. He stood still, with his gun at the ready if he saw even a glimpse of him.
"You took it too far, kids. Now, hand over my things or it gets worse!" Lang yelled out, knowing the two could hear him.
"Believe me, Mr. Lang, we've been through worse." Replied Swift, taking a tiny peek behind the wall he was hiding behind. He spotted a nervous Lang, with his gun trembling in his hand. Noticing that he wasn't looking in Swift's direction, Swift ran behind another pillar across the room. His running steps were so faint, Lang couldn't hear him run across when he wasn't looking.
Just as Lang aimed his gun in another direction, Swift was no longer there just in time. Before he could make another step further to find the two's hiding spots, Lang heard a high-pitched ricochet followed by his gun suddenly jumping out of his grip. He felt the impact of something sharp in his hand, he pulled his hand back in recoil.
Swift smirked at the sight of his bullet successfully disarming Lang from his weapon. Lang turned to the direction the projectile shot him, only to be met by a painful sensation in his leg. Swift saw the threat that Lang is, so he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet to hit him in the leg. Lang yelled, the pain causing him to collapse as he held his bleeding leg's side.
With Lang disarmed and injured, Swift dared to walk up to the man, and so did Tom, coming out of his hiding spot. Seeing the two walk up to him confidently, Lang retreated, crawling away, unable to stand up with his leg bleeding out. The brown-haired boy that is Swift, walked up closer to him.
Lang took the moment to realize the situation he got into. Much to his surprise, the two teenagers were a lot smarter, and a lot more resilient than he thought. He underestimated them, the result being obvious with his leg ending up bleeding out.
"Who are you?" Asked Lang as he stopped crawling away, knowing the two can catch up to him regardless.
Taking a brief pause, Swift then spoke, "The last face you'll see." Then Lang's vision turned into nothing but darkness, caused by Swift who kicked him across the face, leaving the man unconscious.