The package was set under his beefy arm, ready for the delivery. It was just heavy enough to cause a distraction, but light enough to throw. The man’s free hand checked his back pocket. The rag was still there, it didn’t fall out.
Slowly, his feet approached the entrance to the building. The doors were locked, she needed to come and let him inside. Smirking ever so slightly, he dug out his cellphone through the keys, loose change, and other shit in his front pocket. Humming ever so lightly, he went to his history and called a number that showed up multiple times, it was always him calling.
“Hello, Kendall. It’s me, Clay,” he shifted weight from one leg to another; the worn soles of his shoes were starting to get annoying. “I’m just right outside the building. If you could come and meet me outside I’ll deliver that package you’ve ordered.” He paused for a moment, “Yeah, I’ll wait.” He rolled my eyes getting slightly annoyed with her. She didn’t want to cooperate with the plans he had in store for her. The little bitch!
A different man’s voice spoke over the phone, identifying himself as Agent Garrison. Clay narrowed his eyes and remained silent. What the hell did this Garrison guy want? Then, Clay’s heart nearly skipped a beat. SWAT officers with riot shields, ballistic vests, and guns were slowly approaching him. He spun in a circle, desperately looking for a gap between the bastards. There was nothing, no escape. The phone went dead, this Agent Garrison hung up.
“Freeze!” a SWAT officer with a gun shouted before running towards Clay.
He tried to get away, but he stumbled over the edge of the sidewalk, and fell to the ground. His phone flew out of his grasp. The screen shattered on impact. Clay was tackled by four hundred pounds of muscle, buried beneath multiple SWAT officers. They turned him onto his stomach and wrenched his hands behind his back. Cool metal constricted his wrists like an anaconda.
“You’re gonna rot in prison for all those people you killed you piece of shit,” a SWAT officer growled before forcing Clay off the ground and pushed me into a vehicle.
He was about to scream back at him, but the door was slammed in his face. Clay pressed his head against the window, barring his teeth at them. They better be afraid of what he’d do to them when he gets out of these handcuffs. No, he directed his eyes towards the building where a girl was standing by a window, she better be afraid.