In Plain Sight - Part 1

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Captain Morrison sat at his desk as report after report filed in. There just simply wasn't enough manpower to handle all of the cases. He began to sort the cases and determine which reports held priority over the others. He spoke into the speakerphone, "Murder reports and shootings take top priority," he shuffled some papers further, "Robberies at gas stations take second priority. Unless someone gets killed or shot, they take second priority. Make sure any active shooting cases are tended to first. Carjacks and grand theft – third priority. The paramedics have to be available for all first priority cases. Unfortunately, people who are having heart attacks or other naturally caused fatal conditions will be final priority. We need the paramedics on scene for people who are shot. For some reason, there are people being shot every damn day and it's not just here either. Not just South Arbon. Neighboring cities and counties are having a similar problem so we can't even effectively borrow forces from other counties." He sat back from his desk. "This is how it has to be now. At least until we figure out what's going on."

All night, Kevin heard sirens and police cars roaring down the street. The last few weeks, he thought there were fireworks at night or firecrackers, but he became convinced they were gun shots. Every news station that reported on a shooting or a robbery somehow managed to link it to Ian Avery, still. Kevin shut his eyes and tried to bury the feeling that he was somehow responsible for this chain reaction.

Maybe if I turn myself in.

Of course he never would, but if he did, would that put an end to the crime? Would the media finally say, "We caught him! We caught the crime lord! The good guys always prevail!" Probably not because it was already made clear that people can get away with crime if they just run fast enough. Whether the media would acknowledge it or not, Ian Avery was no longer the only example of a criminal getting away with murder.

He did the math in his head. There were 218 murders in South Arbon this year, while only 28 people actually arrested for murder. No cases were made that one of those 28 people killed more than ten people. That meant there were dozens, if not more, people who have gotten away with murder, just in South Arbon alone. Ian Avery wasn't even this bad, he thought to himself in the third person.

"If we split the money between the twelve of us, that still leaves us with a nifty fixed income of about $3,500 a month," Nathan said as he transferred another batch from a victim's phone to another account. His associates shuffled around papers, lists and maps. "Eddie, make two more accounts. Cover Jeff's shift, go to an ATM and withdraw it all in cash until it locks up. Wear your mask, do not forget that! It's very important," He shoved the barrel of his gun into the mouth of his latest blindfolded victim and pulled the trigger. With a flash and a blast of red mist, the victim collapsed to the ground.

Kevin couldn't sleep even though he was slightly comforted by the fact that it would make little difference if he turned himself in. He stared at the clock on his nightstand.

4:13 am.

Maybe it was time to get up and have an early morning. He promised Robert he'd help make marketing material for Silent Night anyway. Perhaps he could get a head start on making some posters and flyers out of construction paper, markers, and glue.

"Gordon, here's the new list," Nathan handed him a list of names. "3rd street, about 11:00 in the morning or so, a few of them leave Gregson Furniture. Priority is the red head guy – Jayce. Deep pockets, fucking loaded." He stepped out of the way from the blood puddle creeping up on his feet. "Give it time, we're hitting the bank on 18th street."

The group gasped, clamored, and raised their eyebrows. Nathan regained control and continued, "I know, I know! A bank oh no! Oh yes. It's possible and it will happen. How? We were all there when Eddie intercepted that radio signal. Captain Cockwad from the SAPD are prioritizing all the hits because there's just so many of them. Shit!" Some of the victim's blood got onto his shoes. He wiped it off with a rag he found on the floor. "All we need to do is create a big enough distraction. I'm thinking arson or some shit to some big public place. Fire a few guns, shoot a few people, the cops show up – hopefully all of them, really – and then a few of us, or me, or someone goes to the bank on 18th and take care of business there."

They all nodded in approval of the far-fetched plan. Nathan continued, "Any questions? We'll discuss more of the details as it comes closer."

"I have a question. Not about the bank hit but," Eddie raised, "Are we just going to let him live or something?" he pointed at another blindfolded victim curled into a ball of fear against the wall, shivering and quivering.

"Oh shit! I totally forgot about him," Nathan exclaimed and scratched the back of his head. "Here we were just about to leave and then there's this witness right here," he laughed as he pulled out his gun. The victim screamed and shielded his face. "Dude, chill. Your hands can't stop bullets. You won't feel a thing anyway." He fired the gun twice and the victim collapsed on the ground.