Fan Fiction ❯ The Rage of Mr. Blonde ❯ Mr. Blue/Two Cops on the Edge ( Chapter 4 )

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Disclaimer: I don't own any Tarantino idea/movie/character.

Author's Note: Yet another flashback at the beginning, but it is mostly continuing the story of the escaping robbers. Also, I decided for Mr. Blue's name to closely resemble the actor's.

The two cops are original characters.

The Rage of Mr. Blonde: Chapter Four

Mr. Blue/Two Cops on the Edge

* * *

Nice Guy Eddie drove with one hand on the wheel, his father Joe Cabot and family friend Ed Butler in the back. They were heading to Joe's mansion after a nice lunch, discussing old news. It had been a decade since the two had seen each other, so they were willing to tell each other anything the other did not know.

"How long did that marriage last?" Joe asked his old friend with an inquisitive look.

The man next to him, dressed in a suit, and white hair decorating his lips and scalp, answered, "Oh, about 8 months I suppose."

"What happened?"

Ed Butler looked in the direction of the road, and scoffed, "Some sorta lie by Roxy that I had cheated on her. Fucking bitch." Joe appeared satisfied with the answer, and grumbled. He turned towards the road as well. For a few minutes, they remained silent.

Then Joe asked, "What she take with her?"

Ed replied with clear hate for the woman in his voice, "The tv, car, dog, children, and half of my money."

"That's usually the case."
"Well, I was lucky the first 4 times," Ed smirked, "I only lost about a thousand dollars in property put together. But now, this marriage, you just can't a price on the dog. You just can't."

Nice Guy, who had been wanting to get into the conversation, asked, "How much were the kids worth?"

"Not as much as the dog, I'll tell ya that." The three men burst out laughing.

When they reached the mansion, Nice Guy took off for one of the doors. Joe led Ed to another door, and welcomed him in. After seating themselves in Joe's office, Joe Cabot finally introduced business.

"So, Ed," Cabot lit another one of his famous cigars before finishing his sentence, "how desperate are you?"

Ed looked up from his own unlit cigar, and smiled, "Look, Joe, I appreciate this and all, but if it has to do with Eddie, I'm not into that kind of stuff."

Joe looked wide-eyed at the genius of his friend. No one had ever dared to accuse Eddie of being gay in front of his own father. But Joe did wonder. That blue flannel coat. Eddie wore it all day. It made his stomach twist and turn. It was the ugliest piece of shit ever.

"No, no, Ed."

"What, then?"

"I got a job for you," announced Joe, who had regained his tough composure, "I'm not gonna lie. It's a robbery, and I need someone like you to help do it. You're not going in alone, I've already got four other guys with me."

"Oh." Ed's head hung down. He had avoided crime for years, after leaving the business during his first marriage. And he had made a vow to himself never to return for his only love.

`Fuck that shit!' Ed's thoughts angered him. What love? He didn't care: he just wanted the money. There was nothing to lose. He raised his head to Joe. "Sure, why not?"

"Good, good," Joe clapped his hands together in excitement.

"Have I met any of the other guys?"

"No, no," replied Joe.

"Strangers?"
"Indeed, yes, my friend."

"When is this robbery of ours?"

"Next week on a work day."

"That's kind of dangerous, with all those people around."

"Maybe for my usual goons. Possibly for the Delvin and Shrugga gangs, but not Cabot's guys. No way!" Cabot's excitement made him jump up from his leather chair, and slam his cigar into the ashtray. "I've got the best guys ever assembled. Experience, expertise, wisdom, strength, you name it, we've got it."

"I must say, Joe," sighed Ed, "you seem rather confident," Joe nodded, "and exactly WHAT are we going after?"

"Something rich. Real rich. I mean we're talking Thriller-Michael Jackson rich."

"Huh?" Joe's metaphor went over Ed's head.

"Diamonds," stated Cabot bluntly.

"Nice."

"Real nice, I'd say."

"Can you give me they're names-the guys you've mentioned, Joe."

"I cannot. In order for complete safety from the law, you guys shall only know each other by aliases. So far, there is a Mr. White, Mr. Pink, Mr. Brown, and another close friend of mine. He'll be working with you, Ed."
"What's his name?" Ed stood up, knowing full well the meeting was almost over.

"A Mr. Blonde, Ed."
"That's a strange code name. So abnormal."
Joe nodded, "Well, he's an abnormal guy. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him, though. I owe him big time."

"When will we be introduced?"

"Sunday. At the coffin warehouse on Davidson street. You can't miss it." Ed set his glass on the desk and left, happy about the situation.

* * *

Mr. Blue had dropped his handgun long after he had escaped the ambush. He raced down the crowded sidewalk as fast as his wearied legs could carry him. Bystanders made sure to stay out of the way of the lumbering man, who repeatedly looked back. He knew cops were after him. He knew it. He could hear their yells and commands.

He just had to find someplace to hide, and then get to the rendezvous. But how? He was going the opposite direction. Sirens followed, but they seemed to be going and coming from every direction. How many damn cops were there?

As Mr. Blue headed further and further into the city's interior, he blindly tripped and fell onto the sidewalk. When he made contact with the unforgiving concreter, his right leg went numb, sending a shock through his body. Great. He had broken his fucking leg!

What could he do? Just lay there and die, waiting for the cops to come pick him up? He slowly raised his upper body with his palms off from the ground, but he remained paralyzed from the waist down to his leg. Seeing that escape was of no use, he crawled his way to a nearby stoop, in front of someone's apartment. After climbing the three-step stairway, which seemed more like Everest than anything else, he closed his eyes, and panted, trying to catch his breath.

What the cops found was indeed a poor site to see. On an old stoop was a crook past his prime. The white-haired man had one leg limping on the sidewalk, and one arm desperately clinging to the girthy stone rail. A wearied breath came in and out of his lungs, and the man seemed to be summoning up the rest of his strength.

"Hey, Mark," whispered one of the cops to his partner, both still watching their prey, not knowing what to do next. "Should we get him to our car?"

"Yeah, let's do that.

Putting their guns into their holsters, both ops lifted up Mr. Blue, one each with a frail arm. Together, the two carried Blue into a cop car across the street. Mark opened the door as his partner set the old man in the back seat. When Mark had closed the door, he sat on the passenger's side, as the other cop turned on the ignition.

"So, we take him to a hospital, or what?" Mark looked at his partner for an answer.

"No, we're taking him to the station."

"Why, Brad? I mean, I doubt he has the health to continue with this bloody mess."

Brad retorted back, "No, we're gonna have some questions for him." Brad drove his way into traffic, intending for the station.

"Come on, Brad, think about this," continued Mark. Ed's breathing from the back became even heavier, but faster paced. "What if he dies on our watch? Hm? Ever think about that? Stew will so be pissed at us if a suspect dies."
"Nevermind what that bastard thinks or does. We're going." Brad stated this as if the debate was now officially over. But Mark, sympathetic to the prostate Mr. Blue, did not back off.

"Just twenty minutes, Brad. We'll go in, ask the doctor for a checkup. Ignore the leg, and see if anything else is wrong with him. After that, it's off to jail or whatever."

"GET A FUCKING CLUE!!" Brad was now too steamed to make an answer. He just kept driving. "We are not taking him to some hospital. You know who really needs to go to a hospitable?" Mark remained silent. "Well, do ya?" Mark nodded to signal that he had no idea. Brad ranted on as he drove, "The people who REALLY need a doctor are those people those fucking maniacs killed off. Or maybe our own buddies need help! Did you ever stop and think about our own friends?"

"Of course. It's just that we've been chasing this guy, and, and…"

"And nothing, Mark! He's a crook, there's been a crime, and civilians are dead. Are you happy with all this? I'm not. I'm mad pissed because of all this. And YOU'RE taking the CRIMINAL'S side? How dare you." Brad was just miles away from the station. It would only be a matter of time.

Mark sighed and leaned back. "Fuck this shit. Fuck it all to hell I tell ya."

"Well this ain't exactly a vacation for me either."

At this point in the conversation, Blue had awoken, and his breathing had eased. He made sure not to be seen by the ever watchful Brad. Slowly, his eyes searched for a way out. He came upon the gun, in Brad's belt. It could be easily taken. But what about the other cop? He weighed the possibilities. If Brad was killed, the car would most likely end up in the middle of a car crash. Could he take the chance? Would he be shot by the other? Would he die in the ensuing mayhem? He did not care. He had nothing to lose. He had been fucked over many times in his life, but this would be the last time, he hoped.

Snatching the gun from Brad's holster, Blue leaped up and pointed the gun at the back of Brad's head. Blue's risen body startled both cops, but Brad was the most excited.

"What the fuck!?" Brad's reaction dittoed Mark's, who's gun was in both of his hands, aimed at the face of Ed; Mr. Blue. Brad's face swelled through the emotion that was about to burst through his eyes. Water moistened the eyes, and tears were forming on the very edges of his lids.

Brad mouthed to his partner, even as he drove, `Save me.' Mark just stared at Blue.

"Take me to Chestnut Road," barked the elder man in the backseat. He dared not give away any info on the warehouse, lest he betray his partners, but he figure two blocks away from the rendezvous was good enough.

"Okay, okay," whimpered the now pathetic Brad, who just minutes ago was the mightiest man in the car. The car made a swift left turn. Blue tremble a bit. Mark was waiting for a decision to be made. Either by him or Blue himself. Brad was sacred shitless. A stain appeared at the front of Brad's pants, and he cried in both embarrassment, and fear. With the guns still pointed at their targets, the car eventually made it to the road.

"Now pull over."
Brad did so, stopping in front of another warehouse. Ed came at a stopping point. Now what. He had gotten this far, but how was he supposed to get out alive. He slowly backed away from Brad, and opened the door next to him, never taking his eyes off either cop. Mark still looked determined.

Blue slammed the door. He sighed. He had gotten out. His leg. Damn it! His leg was still useless. He lowered his body to the ground, but the gun was now pointed at Mark. The heat radiated on Ed's head. He could not stand it anymore. Either he went, or they did.

"Make a move," mocked Mr. Blue.

Mark did.

* * *

SMALL FLASHBACK

"Tell me, Joe," asked Ed, "is this plan fool-proof? I mean is there even a chance something, or someone might give us the slip?"

"Not a chance, my friend."

* * *

A cop car packed with five or six cops came racing up the road when it spotted something unusual on the side of the road. The driver slowed down, and parked behind the other cop car. They quickly tried to make of the frightening scene.

On the dirt ground beside the car was Mr. Blue, a bloody pool around him. He seemed to have curled up right when he died. In the car, a bullet had apparently made it's way through the window, hitting and killing Mark, who's head was laid back. Blood had splattered on the car and inside the windshield. The driver, Brad was nearly unconscious, but still alive, thank God.

The body count was piling up. Cops, robbers, regular people, were all dieing left and right. But it wouldn't be too long now. There undercover cop was inside the warehouse now, waiting to give the signal for the entire station to invade the rendezvous. It was only a matter of Joe Cabot showing up.

* * *

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

End of chapter Four: Mr. Blue.

I think this chapter was the longest, so I want to see what you guys think about it.

Next, you readers get to see what's FINALLY inside that stinkin' warehouse you've been hearing so much about!!! And just where are those diamonds? Is Blonde, Pink, ect. still alive?

Next chapter: (5) Mr. Orange and His Trials…….