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 Category:  Mystery and Crime Fiction
  Posted: October 2, 2020      Views: 46
Chapters:
1 2 3 4 5 

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 ABOUT
BRETT MATTHEW WEST 
You are enjoying another piece of writing penned by the NUMBER 5 RANKED SCRIPT WRITER OF THE YEAR FOR 2019!!!

My reviews are mere suggestions. Feel free to use anything that provides assistance and/or chuck the whole shebang.

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Chapter 2 of the book Second Chance
Chance plans a bank robbery
"Chapter 2: Second Chance" by Brett Matthew West



A steady stream of Irish Whiskey, the acclaimed "water of life," flowed as Ethan Stackhouse, Dylan Andrews, and Blake Morgan schemed around the table. A fourth chair sat empty awaiting its occupant.

An army commando gone bad after cold-cocking his Lieutenant in the field one dark night, Stackhouse was the first to speak. He popped a little white pill and said, "Wish Chance would get his gnarly butt here. Don't know what's taking that loser so long. Time means absolutely nothing to him. Should have cut him out of the action already."

Remembering long days spent together with Sergeant Stackhouse inside an Abrams tank on the front lines in Kuwait, Andrews chimed in, "C'mon, Redbeard. You know Chance is like a stray dog that shows up unexpectedly on your front porch and never does anything till he's good and ready. When you gonna trim that growth hanging off your chin? An elephant could get lost in that jungle you have. Just saying."

Stackhouse replied in a testy tone, "Shove the guacamole up your nose sideways, deuchebag. I told you when I got out of that pickle suit we used to wear back in the day, I'd never shave again."

"Temper, temper, ladies," Morgan cut in. He turned his head to the barmaid who approached their table and said, "Another round for the boys."

"Yea, and bring a pina colada with a shot of Jack Daniels poured in the middle of it," Andrews added. He noticed the questionable expression on Morgan's face and explained, "That's all Chance'll drink...if he ever gets here."

"Just chill. I see him now," Morgan retorted, "Chance is over there yapping with Brenda Conley."

"She always did have the hots for anything with pants on, and every other chick in this coop," Stackhouse commented. He drew a deep breath and stated, "I mean, it ain't like we got plans to talk about or something. I need that folder he's got in his sweet little hand...now!"

"Cool down, Dude. That bank ain't going nowhere, at least not till we pay them a little visit. 'Sides, it's only three blocks away up on Union. We can't rob the joint hot-headed. Won't work that way," Andrews stated. He turned to Morgan and said, "Eat another nacho. You'll feel better."

"I know one thing's for sure, Miller's Warehouse ain't the happening place. Been there three years. Never gonna get nowhere in life shuffling office supplies. Hate being broke all the time," Morgan confirmed.

"Gotta hand it to Chance," Andrews commented as their drinks arrived. He waited until the server placed them down on the table and left, then said, "We needed someone who could score the blueprints of the bank. Don't know how, but Chance got them."

"Where's your piece?" Stackhouse casually asked him.

The lanky hooligan patted his waistband and replied, "You taught me to always be prepared, Sarge. And, I got a peashooter for Chance. Just hope the boy knows how to fire a weapon."

"We only need him for the prints," Stackhouse responded.

"What are you talking about?" Morgan alerted.

"Think about it. A three way cut's more money in our pockets than four ways," Andrews remarked.

"I didn't sign on for what you're thinking," Morgan stated. He assured them, "Murder ain't in my blood."

"Dylan and me talked this out, and you better get a taste for killing, cause you're gonna waste Chance in the alley out back. That is, unless you want Dylan and me to split the fruits of our labor two ways,"
Stackhouse threatened.

"Waste him?" Morgan asked in shock, "I don't even know Chance except these two meetings we've had planning this heist."

"Then, it's no loss. He'll just be one less panhandler on the streets. He won't even be missed," Andrews commented.

Morgan thought a moment then agreed, "That makes him expendable."

"Now you're talking sense and he's nothing more than a dead man walking," Stackhouse replied.

"Hey, Big Man, you made a rhyme," Andrews laughed. He raised a toast and said, "Look at it this way, Blake. You're doing your civic duty by helping clean up some of the riff-raff from our fair city."

"Always did like a good double-cross," Morgan beamed.

"Not another word about what you're gonna do. Here comes our long lost stooly," Stackhouse informed his partners.

(TO BE CONTINUED:)

The book continues with Chapter 3 - Second Chance. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.

Author Notes
Freedom, by MKFlood, selected to complement my story.

So, thanks MKFlood, for the use of your picture. It goes so nicely with my story.
Pays one point and 2 member cents. Artwork by MKFlood at FanArtReview.com

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