Law-Breakers

Law-Breakers

At first, no one knew what career I would take on. Rubbish collector? A sailor? Maybe even a businessman. When I was young I found out that I was brilliant at racing but as I grew older I soon got bored racing around similar tracks against, more or less, the same drivers. I wanted something dangerous, something exciting, and something more than just driving around the same bends for money.
If I'd been born to a typical family, my life would have been much different but we can't choose who our parents are. Most parents and guardians always dream about their kids growing up to be some businessman/woman with money pouring out of their ears and things like that. They never think of their children becoming murderers, getaway drivers, bombers, and gangsters, except mine.
My family were all criminals: my mother, a retired bank robber, my father, a con artist, my brother was the leader of one of the toughest gangs in London until someone knifed him dead, my sister, a corrupt policewoman, and me? Everyone thought I would take after my father. I was good at maths, languages, and as well as being logical I was pretty capable at thinking outside the box. But I had different ambitions…
During my childhood I was always a rebel. I never did my homework. I bullied kids, some much older than me. I shattered windows and broke down doors. I destroyed anything destructible. I loved the sense of doing something you weren’t suppose to. If a sign reads ‘do not swim in the lake’ that’s exactly what I’d do.  I couldn’t help it, it seemed to be in the family tree.
As I reached my adulthood things seemed to calm down. I decided what I wanted to be and how I was going live my life. I hung out with people you would call dodgy. I did drugs. I smoked and I got pissed but all the while I built my contacts. I strengthened my muscles, and I trained my brain for what I was going to do…
My dream was to become a notorious getaway driver, robbing overloaded banks and casinos. It wouldn’t be easy but with careful planning, a few tips from my mother, and some experienced criminal friends I could do the job…

Sitting at the wheel on my first night on the job, with sweat beads rolling gently down my forehead, I glanced at my watch for what must have been the millionth time, 21:51, around nine more stomach-churning minutes. I looked out of the tinted window of our white Mercedes van. We were in a dark alleyway a few minutes away from a local high street bank. It was the middle of winter, Christmas Eve, and mashed up snow scattered the roads. In the other alleyway opposite ours, stood a black van with the other two members of our half a dozen or so team.

I couldn’t believe I was going bank robbing on Christmas Eve, when I first heard the plan, but I suppose it made sense because everyone would be at home wrapping presents and getting ready for the following day. The police are going to be low on numbers and little traffic will be on the roads. I could still get caught though. Imagine the look on my father’s smug face telling me I should have been a con artist like him. Not only that but all that time to spend in a dirty rotting police cell for like –

“Stop pissing yourself,” Teeth laughed, interrupting my thoughts, “you get used to the nerves after two or three heists, and the police are shit useless anyway.”
I wish I could have believed him!
“Well, I bet most people would be a bit nervous,” I said, startled.
“Remember what happened to the one with fizzy hair,” Bitch laughed, “he somehow got shot in both legs, but was still able to drive us back! There was blood spilling-”
“That's really gonna help, isn't it?” I growled sarcastically putting on a tough front, but inside I was trembling and shaking.
“I didn't say it was,” she replied sharply, but fell quiet to my utter relief.

We didn't know each others real names, emails, and other personal info in case one of us got caught and then tortured or bribed. As a solution the team came up with nicknames. Mine was Cheetah because the team thought it suited me and my job. I was 5ft 9in, muscular with blonde hair flowing past my shoulders. I'd joined the team later on after my mother found out they needed a new getaway driver because the last one died of serious wounds in both of his legs.

Teeth was given his name because his teeth were always gleaming white. At six foot five, Teeth was massive and even with three layers of clothing on, his muscles were still bulging through. He had lovely tanned skin, only disturbed by some horrendous scars scattered across his body, but when you asked what had happened he just laughed, 'you should have seen the other guy'. He had joined the team after being sacked from the World Wrestling Entertainment after they found out that he had seriously injured a policewoman for giving him a £500 ticket for speeding and drink driving. He got a caution with Slimes help.

Slime was named by the team because nothing stuck to him; one way or another the blame always slid off him. Slime had the look of a professional businessman, with short  gleaming black hair and  a clean shaven face. Slime was mostly cunning brains, and did most of the planning, cracked safes, guessed passwords and could tell when some one was lying. He had just got out from behind the bars a few months ago for a massive scandal (unfortunately for him, he couldn't slide that one off). He also used to be a well-known lawyer so he knew many tricks and tactics in court to lessen or completely get out of a sentence.
To her delight, Bitch was named by the team after her way of flirting, aggression and a lack of patience. With long blonde hair and slim body, she could have chosen a perfect life of a celebrity or top model. She got fired at a night club after slapping her boss and kicking him where it hurts (with high heels on!). She had an air of confidence which spread to those close to her. She was brilliant at morale boosting and making up plausible excuses which was very handy.

Techno and Blur, in the other van, looked like regular people on the outside but were completely different from within. Techno was, let’s put it brief, a computer geek and Blur was lightning fast at computers and together they could write a program to disable electronics in a couple of weeks. They were twin brothers who could get their hands on M15 special equipment in a matter of days and could probably name every gadget in existence. They worked at hacking and watching CCTV footage live, emailing, ringing, repairing and fixing, making and inventing new ideas, and gathering information. They were also responsible for some nasty viruses which were know to copy one’s computer files and then destroy the whole computer.

Chief, boss of our team, was a small but scary character who organised food, shelter, and sharing out the loot. He was very persuasive and as a former senior policeman he had many contacts. He was also a fair leader, and if there was a fight or an argument he would listen to each side carefully before making his final judgement.
Suddenly, as my watch ticked 22:00, the headlights of the black van opposite us in the other alleyway flashed three times. That only meant one thing.
“Ready guys?” Teeth grinned. Everyone nodded. “Then lets make some hard earned cash!”
I gulped, wondering if I should back out, but put my foot on the gas before I could make that decision. The black rubber tires squealed as we drove out on to the snow-piled high street. Time went quickly and before we knew it we were outside the bank. We chose this one because it a minor local one so to let me get used to the process before going onto more ambitious heists. We pulled down our masks, grabbed our equipment and stormed out of the van, into the cold night. The pavement was hazardous with black ice.
“The doors are locked,” Slime whispered.
“What a surprise...,” Bitch muttered sarcastically as she walked to the van, took a lock- gun out of the boot, and gave it to Slime. “Here, it just might help.”
My stomach twisted as sirens wailed into the distance. The sounds still ringing in my straining ears as I got out of the van, straightened my back and slipped instantly, but the open door saved me.
I stood and looked up, marveling for the first time in weeks at the beautiful stars, my breathe was like a stream train caught in the moonlight on the cold night air. I suddenly forgot all of my worries as I watched it gently rise up into the sky. It gradually faded and the heavy burden of all my worries fell back on my shoulders. I let out a deep sigh and turn to see Slime working on the locks and Bitch getting out the equipment, Teeth sorted out the guns. He beckoned me over.
“Here” Teeth grunted as he shoved me a gun, “In your hands is a Mini UZI, small, light, and lots of fire-power, meaning a few blasts of this and the target will be shreds.”
“You think we'll need them?” I asked, flabbergasted, “I've never used UZIs.”
“Hopefully you won't have to use it, but if the worst comes to the worst at least you'll be prepared,” Teeth instructed, showing me how to operate it, “You need to pull down the safety trigger and simply pull the firing trigger to fire. To reload, you push this button, hold it and wait a few seconds for the clip to fall out. Next pull out a full clip and push it in. You should hear a click. Never ever pull the safety trigger except in combat, cos if you accidentally press the fire trigger, a lot of people are gonna hear it. Am I making myself clear?”
“Crystal clear” I nodded, feeling the deadliness of the weapon I held in my innocent hands.
“Good” he grinned, and started, as the door chains crashed to the floor...
“We're in!” Slime cheered, as he passed though the doors and into a smallish room with five locked counters spaced out. Although the walls lacked colour, the counters battered from years of use, the safe still looked as good as new. “I can already see my new Porsc-” He stopped abruptly.
“What's wrong? I said nervously,
“Shhh!” he whispered harshly, “I think I hear someone”
We froze for a couple of minutes as if someone had pressed the pause button.
Slime finally broke the deadly silence and pointed. “I can hear someone, probably a guard, behind that wooden door to the left.”
“You sure?” Bitch murmured quietly.
“Yeah, his breathing is heavy so I guess he’s asleep.” Slime whispered back.
“We need a plan.” Teeth put in. “I say that we-“
“Should kill the guard, then it's over and done with.” Bitch suggested.
“And then get done for murder.” Teeth said, “We are robbers not heartless murderers (except when it comes to police). I suggest we should knock him out before he has a good look at us, tie him up, then stuff him in some cupboard.”
“So,” Teeth started, “This is what we are going to do…”

Saliva slowly escaped out of the corner of his mouth, and trickled down his chubby chin. Then they plunged in individual droplets onto his black leather jacket. A slow cold breeze ventured though the window, cooling down the fat sleeping man. Only his slow and heavy breathing interrupted the deadly silence which seemed to enclose around him in its power.
BANG! 
The guard’s heavy head shot up from his doze as someone smashed though the locked wooden door with such tremendous force that splinters went flying, peppering everything in their way. The guard, who had somehow miraculously dived behind the desk just before the splinter wave hit, got up, moved his hand to his gun and then grunted as a massive fist punched him square in the face. He staggered back, completely taken by surprise, he held his face with one hand trying to stem blood coming out of his nose and was hopelessly trying defend himself from the attacker with the other as he backed away. He went into a fit of coughing as he hadn’t realized that blood was pouring into his mouth from several different broken teeth. A shadow loomed up in front of him and kicked him in the stomach. He crashed to the floor and tried to shout but it came out as a gurgle through his choking. He remembered something. Time suddenly seemed to slow. He reached down into his pocket. A button. A help button to be pressed in an emergency, it saved your location and the police would come in a matter of minutes. He pressed it. He knew these crooks would never get away now. They would be locked up for the rest of their miserable lives. The last thing he saw was a flash of gleaming white teeth in the moonlight…

The shining safe door creaked painstakingly slowly open. Teeth and I had the spine-cracking job of opening it. The circle metal door weighed that of a small car and it took us more time to find something to tie it up with. Usually the safe was opened by pressing a secret button, but we didn’t have the time to try and find it so explosives did the job. Slime and Bitch swiftly ran in as soon as we had tied it up. I looked in the safe. My eyes nearly popped out. In the safe was money which would last a hundred lifetimes. Teeth passed a bag to me. I nearly dropped it. I had never thought money could be so heavy.
I ran out of the bank to put the money in the van. It was silent. I was looking at the bag. So I never saw the police surrounding the roads and streets. Until…
“ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES!!!” screamed a megaphone. Sirens suddenly screamed flashing blue and red.
Instantly I dived behind our van, using the money to cushion the fall. I quickly pulled out my UZI and fired randomly to keep the police at bay. In return they fired back, unfortunately peppering holes on the side of our beautiful van. In the meantime I pulled out my mobile and informed Teeth. I didn’t wait for his reply as the police advanced in. I lunged into the driver’s seat and used the keys Teeth had given me earlier. The vehicle burst into life. Bullets smash the windscreen into thousands of lethal shards as I fiddled with the gears. I turned the steering wheel towards the bank and for the second time tonight I slammed my foot on the gas. The van accelerated like a rocket and I deliberately crashed diagonally into the entrance of the bank effectively barricading the entrance for the time being.
The air bag smashed my head back into the seat. Stream rose from the bonnet. The van was a mass of dents and holes. I opened the door and dropped out. I could hear the angry voices of the police.
“Well done cheetah, you’ve brought us a little time.” He praised. “Right lets get sorted, cheetah, use your UZI and do as much killing and damage as you can. You can also use the equipment box if you wanna add some more fun. Slime you see if there are any escape routes and close any entrances. Bitch you have to pretend you are hostage, so screaming, and shouting for help are good options; try putting fake blood on yourself as well. That might give us more options for escape.” He rubbed his hands together.
I grabbed the equipment box and ran for an upstairs window. I had thought of yet another brilliant idea. A smoke grenade…hehe… I called to Bitch on the way. I found a smallish upstairs room with one window. I pulled the grenade ring off and threw it near the window. This one had been specially adapted to last ages while still making plenty of smoke. I gave Bitch a chair to smash the window with when the smoke got thick enough. I also gave her a smoke mask and ran out.

He was in a mood. It was Christmas Eve. He should be snuggling up with his wife in bed but he’s the one who has to go out and arrest the bank robbers. He had a bad headache.
That fifteen year old idiot has just completely ruined his own life. He had walked out of the bank with a lump of money. Then he smashed the van into the bank into attempt to escape. And he had been shooting at us. So that’s robbery, dangerous driving, under-aged driving, procession of a gun and attempted murder. He’d be lucky not to get a life sentence. He smiled to himself.
Suddenly a woman smashed on the window upstairs. She screamed silently. Smoke swirled around her making it hard to see her masked face. She disappeared. A moment passed. Then a chair smashed out of the window. It dropped like a bomb on his police car. Splinters flew. His mood turned even more grim when he saw the massive dent and crushed sirens. He looked up. The woman was screaming ‘Fire! Fire! Help me! Help me!’ out of the window.
“Get the firemen and the army, you morons!” He roared, annoyed at the lack of movement of his fellow colleges. They scrambled into action. He rubbed his hands in glee. When a senior army officer took over he’d be able to creep back home. Little did he know of a grenade flying through the air.


I was monitoring the sheriff with listening devices. Suddenly my eyes bulged out in disbelief. Army? He’s calling in the army? Impossible! I swore. A wave of anger passed through me like an electric shock. Without thinking I grabbed a hand grenade, pulled the ring, and threw it hard at the window, I immediately regretted it. It smashed straight through, flying towards the bunch of police cars near the bank entrance. Oh s***. I ran to the balcony. The grenade was falling and fast.
It couldn’t have happened worse. It fell straight through the dented hole in the police car which had bits of chair around it. A few seconds passed. Then an impossibly sound BOOM reached my ears! I covered my face against the heat and stumbled back. Back against the short railings. I blindly tumbled over. I fell. Fast and hard. Towards the icy concrete pavement several blocks below…
Coldness seeped into my bones. It numbed away the pain though I was still it agony. I was shivering violently. I gave out a sigh of relief, I was still alive. The ground felt soft but it was cold and dark. It shouldn’t have been so dark. Something was wrong. Panic seized me and I rolled over on to the road. I’d had land in soft snow which why I was only bit bruised. I stood up and surveyed the damage. Half the lamps were broken and bent out of shape, the police cars were wrecked except for one or two with slight dents.
There was no moment. I ran towards the police cars with hardly any damage. Using a special penknife I opened the door. I got in and the keys were still in their slot. I turned on the engine and drove over a lump in the middle of the road. It could have been a human but I didn’t stop to look. I drove fast, the car nearly spinning out of control. I soon found a layby, pulled out my new mobile and dialed Teeth’s pay-as-you-go phone.
“Cheetah?” Teeth asked, “what has just happened?”
“Erm… I threw a grenade and, erm, I fell over the balcony and landed in snow and I have taken a half-decent police car to find a telephone.” I answered. “Also the army is coming, I heard choppers flying.” 
“F***!” Teeth swore, “Ok I’ll meet you by the agreed meeting point.”
My tires squeal to a halt and I stepped out. My watch beeped 02:01.Teeth came out of the darkness. He was wearing police uniform and gave me some normal clothes to get changed into. I immediately knew what he was doing. I stepped into the police car, Teeth and Bitch in the front wearing their costumes and me and slime in the back with fake cuffs on. We drove off into the night…


Flashing lights woke me up. It was a minor police block, where they just look at you generally. The queues were long and slow. It was our turn now. We had passed the main road blocks of the police. This was probably the last police block we’d see tonight, they probably wouldn’t even glance at us as we were police. The night was dying. The horizon was light. My insides suddenly melted when the officer narrowed his eyes half-way through the inspection.
“What is your name again?” The officer asked.
“Sergant john ride” Teeth answered casually.
“Aren’t you meant to be by the robbery scene?”
“err no they are on the run”
The officer’s radio squawked, “One missing police car, four suspects are on run.”
“...hang-on a minute.” He said as he finally realized the truth behind our disguises. I tried to escape but Teeth caught my eye and shook his head. We were doomed as officers scramble over cars and shoved through people to surround us. 

“Out of the car now!” He ordered. “You are under-arrest!”
He handcuffed us all and took us towards an old building. My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to run. I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall down, go to sleep, and forget the world was here; but I couldn’t and I walked reluctantly into a worn-down building. My eyes didn’t take anything in. My mind was frozen in time. I was a walking zombie. They threw me into a cell. I couldn’t do anything.
Days passed like a wave of blurs, and before I knew it I was taken to court. They asked me whether I pleaded guilty or not. I heard myself plead guilty. I looked around for my parents, they weren’t there, I knew why but I was still disappointed.  The court then discussed my sentence. My lawyer saying I was only fifteen years old and I had anger problems and did stuff without thinking. The prosecutor saying I had killed five policemen who all had families. After around 15 minutes they announced their decision. 25 years minimum in jail. Anger pounced on me like jaguar and gave them the finger as I was taken out. I saw myself laugh at their expressions and then I was taken roughly down to the cells below the courtroom…



Second book

Street Burners
The metal door creaked as two burly guards opened it. I lifted my head off the dirty-brown pillow. They half stopped; their noses defiant to go any nearer, but the orders overlooked them and they reluctantly forced there legs to move forward. They grudgingly grabbed hold of my clothes and forced me up. I stepped one foot in front of the other after they had cuffed me and had me shackled. They shoved me inside a posh black van. There were no windows and it seemed dark as the two guards watched me suspiciously from the other side of the van. Their eyes burned into mine, daring me to try something. I didn’t, I just sat there for three hours having a staring war at them until I got bored and gave one of them the finger. They jumped out of their seats and smashed a fist into my face, bursting my nose. One pinned me as the other reached into his pocket and pulled out a taser. Tasers were horrible, they could fire at range and fry someone with almost lethal amounts of electricity. I struggled as hard as I could as they teased me. Then he pointed it at me and pulled the trigger. A massive explosion hit the van. Vaporizing the drivers and throwing me and the officers in the rear double doors. They flew open as the van plunged over the edge of the bridge and down like a fiery meteorite on to the motorway below….