an update from me? no, that's impossible.
hi, i am alive. sorry i haven't updated in so long. i would blame it on being busy with college, but honestly i just did not feel like writing. it felt very much like a chore. also college has melted my brain. i said 26 + 26 equaled like 162 or some shit, like my brain has been mush.
anyways, i'm on summer break now, so i thought why not update! especially since my birthday is this week (may 27). this is my birthday present to myself and you guys! so here it is, chapter 3! (also please excuse any errors, editing was exhausting)

There she was standing in the middle of the room, looking as gorgeous as ever. She was wearing a flowing white, long sleeved blouse, tucked neatly into her jeans. She looked like a modern-day princess. She was the most beautiful thing Duncan had ever seen, but what was she doing here? She shouldn't have been there. Courtney should not have been anywhere near him right now. She should've been far away tucked safely in her apartment or at work where she could safely pace the halls. She shouldn't have been there.

Courtney glanced up meeting his gaze for the first time, across the room like a cheesy fairytale. She gave him a small smile, moving to take a step closer to him before stopping in her tracks. A bang that pierced Duncan's heart rang out as he watched Courtney's face twist into pain, her hand moving to clutch her stomach. She shakily moved her hand away from where the pain was radiating only to see her white blouse had red in the middle of it. Even from across the room, Duncan could see the hand she had used to grasp at her stomach was stained with blood. Duncan watched with horror as the small red dot on her blouse grew, painting her shirt in red.

Another bang.

Courtney let out another cry of pain as she grasped at her should. Red began to glide like a river down her sleeve, and when the material could no longer soak up anymore of the blood, it dripped down onto the marble floor, pooling at her feet. Duncan watched the puddle of blood, turn into what felt like an ocean. In his mind, Duncan flashed back to the numerous people he had killed in his line of work, all of them lying at his feet, spilling an ocean of blood into the room.

She moved her gaze to his, her lips moving in the pattern of what Duncan recognized as his name. The panic hit him then. She was going to die. She was going to die right in front of him if he didn't do anything, and it would be entirely his fault. He would have been the one to kill Courtney Veras. He looked down at his hands and saw the blood covering his hands, felt the stickiness of it.

He locked eyes with her once again and the look on her face was one of pure fear. At this point, he couldn't tell if she was afraid of dying or if she was afraid of him of the monster he was and the pain and destruction he always seemed to bring.

Courtney let out a strained cough, like she was struggling to breathe. She coughed once again, and blood dripped from her lips, darker and a heavier consistency. She went to say his name again but was stopped by her eyes rolling back and her falling to the floor before she could get his name out.

Duncan immediately took a step in her direction. He had to save her. He couldn't let her die, he couldn't be the one to kill her.

He made his way to rush to her but was stopped suddenly by the forcefulness of hands pulling him back. Duncan tried to fight against it, but he kept on being pulled back, pulled away from where she laid in a pool of blood, staring blankly at him.

"Duncan! Duncan, what the hell are you doing?" the blonde pulling him back hissed out. She made a wild grasp at him, grabbing at his chin and forcing him to look at her. Duncan blinked at her and allowed the panic to dissipate when he saw that it was Bridgette holding onto him. "What the hell is going on with you?" When Duncan heard that from most people, he expected them to be right up in his face, angry, yelling at him, but that's not at all what Bridgette was. She didn't sound or look angry, just worried and more than a bit confused.

"Yeah man, what were you planning to do? Walk out into the open? You know the plan, you know Harold hasn't disabled the security cameras yet," the man beside Bridgette, who was holding a cowboy hat in his hand spoke up.

Duncan opened his mouth to explain himself, to tell them that they had to go help her, but as Duncan glanced back to where Courtney had previously been laying in a pool of her own blood, she was gone. No sign of her ever being there was present, not even the white marble flooring had evidence of the horrific scene.

"Duncan?" Bridgette questioned gently with concern, regaining her attention. Duncan took in a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, letting all the panic he had felt flow out of him. He couldn't let his crew know that he was distracted. He needed everyone on their a-game and that included him. His crew would only worry if they knew.

"Relax, Bridge. I'm fine," Duncan assured her as he shrugged his arm out of her still there grasp, "Just was just scouting. I thought I saw a guard we didn't account for walking by." Lying came so easy to Duncan.

"Well, you almost stepped into the line of sight of the cameras," Bridgette pointed out roughly, "That doesn't sound like something you would do. I know you Duncan, you're too meticulous to make such a rookie mistake like that."

"I said I was fine, didn't I?" Duncan snapped out at her, "So, just drop it."

"Dude, you don't have to yell at her, she was just trying to help," the man beside her spoke up to Bridgette's defense.

"Geoff, stand up for your girlfriend on your own time. We have a job to do here," Duncan mumbled as he turned to his back to the two, trying to get the feeling of panic out of him and trying to make his eyes not burn with the image of Courtney dead in a pool of her own blood, "Go over the plan again."

"We've already been over the plan," Geoff whined as Duncan rolled his eyes.

"And I said go over it again. There can't be any slip ups here."

Geoff shared a look with Bridgette, a desperate puppy trying to find out what to do. Bridgette sighed and waved him off, telling him to just humor Duncan and go through the plan once again.

"You, me, and Bridge are the main ground team. We're going to be the ones going into the vault and heading out with the money. We're waiting for Harold to shut down all of the cameras, and hopefully block out any outgoing calls, mostly to the police, but he's still not sure if he can do it," Geoff informed him quietly, glancing around the bank to make sure no one was overhearing him.

"How are we getting into the vault?" Duncan questioned, turning back to face them. He already knew the answer, but he had to make sure everyone else did.

"We're sneaking back there and quietly taking out anyone who runs into us along the way since there will more than likely be guards," Geoff told him.

"And once we get to the vault?"

"Boom," Bridgette answered, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

Bridgette wasn't anything like him, they were complete and total opposites. Bridgette was a gentle soul, it was one of the things Duncan enjoyed about her. She was a genuinely good person and had compassion in amounts Duncan would've never thought possible of people. She did not enjoy hurting people, or animals, but the crew rarely interacted with animals, except for the rare, deadly guard dog. She was civilized, and she was a peacemaker. She did not enjoy violence and she always wanted everyone to be as level minded as possible. Bridgette was one of Duncan's best, one of the few who had been with him since the beginning of the Killer Bass, when it was only him, Geoff, and Bridgette. She was one of the few he let close. She was the person he usually sent to make negotiations. Since the beginning of the Killer Bass, Bridgette had been his sounding board, someone he bounced ideas off of and made sure he was making the best decisions, and more importantly, she had been his conscious. Bridgette was someone who was capable of being so good, someone who could be normal. He would never fully understand why she was with him, in his crew.

She was not one of his crew members who enjoyed shooting at the cops or pointing guns at innocent hostages, she would if Duncan asked, but she never found pleasure in it. She did however enjoy a good explosive, but only if it was against an inanimate object and not a living thing. That look of sheer joy and adrenaline when they were pulling off a heist was something Bridgette wore quite well.

"If by boom you mean a centralized explosive to open the vault then yes," Duncan said with a small smile, "What are we doing about the people that will hear the explosion?"

"We have crew members around. They're going to control the hostage situation and keep an eye out for the police while we're collecting the money. We also have lookouts up on buildings nearby to keep an eye out for the police. They're going to be snipers if they need to," Bridgette spoke up.

"We get the money, give the Bass the cue to get the hell out and back to the safehouse, and DJ is outside in the alley with our getaway car," Geoff said with glee. Duncan rolled his eyes, but he felt the same joy. It was starting to bubble its way into him. He always felt like this before a heist, especially a bank robbery. It was the adrenaline beginning to set in. It was the dangers of what could happen, the joy that will be felt if they pulled it off.

"Do you have the earpieces?" Duncan asked Bridgette as she handed over the comm they used to communicate with the whole crew during a job. Duncan took the piece from her, ignoring her still apprehensive look as he put the piece in his ear and called over to Harold.

"Yes boss?" Harold spoke, obviously startled by the sudden voice in his ear.

"Are you ready to shut down the security feed?" Duncan inquired, counting over everything in his head once again, making sure there were no holes in the plan.

"Ready whenever you are boss," Harold spoke over the comm. It was easy to tell from his voice that he was fully alert and at full attention. Harold, the redheaded dweeb, was a newer hire compared to a lot of the others in the crew, and it showed in the way he was deathly afraid of Duncan. Everyone was afraid, terrified even, of the Delinquent, but his crew knew better than to fear just Duncan, especially when he wasn't angry. They knew that Duncan wasn't some scary, monstrous person outside of the persona and a job. As long as no one pissed him off in the crew's free time, he was good.

Harold had yet to come to this conclusion. He was still terrified of Duncan, and he was always on his toes to make sure he didn't piss him off. This of course was slowly becoming irritating to Duncan. He didn't need his own crew flinching at his every word. Lucky for Harold, he was one of the best hires Duncan had made in quite some time—outside of if he got a certain brunette ADA to join—so he learned to just deal with it and hope that Harold slowly learned to stop fearing him so damn much.

"Everyone knows the plan?" Duncan questioned into the comm, only to hear a series of agreements after, "Okay, from this point on its masks on and codenames only." Duncan glanced up to watch the security cameras power down and he looked back to his companions. "We don't have long before they start to notice, let's get moving."

The three snuck around a corner into a back hall away from prying eyes. Duncan watched as Bridgette slipped on her mask and as Geoff put on his cowboy hat and his mask. Duncan would knew understand why Geoff felt the need to wear both, but to each their own. Duncan pulled out his skull mask, running his thumb along the accent green before slipping it on. The Delinquent was out and ready for a heist.

"Everybody down!" Geoff shouted, him and Bridgette making their way into the open lobby. Like always, the sound of screaming echoed everywhere and people started running for an escape. "I said get down!" Geoff shot towards the ceiling, letting the echo silence the screaming for the most part. He pointed his gun to the crowd of people who seemed to be frozen in fear. "Get down and play scared hostages and no one will get hurt."

"What's the problem?" Bridgette questioned loudly, "You're in the presence of the best crew in the city. Given that none of you try and play dumbass hero, you'll have a great story to tell everyone. People love stories about surviving the Killer Bass."

Bridgette made her way to stand beside Geoff as the people began lowering to the floor. Bridgette gave Geoff a nod for him to continue on with his part as she raised her gun to the bystanders, all the while remaining alert to any other threats that may come. She pointed her assault rifle wildly at the bystanders, changing her she was pointing at constantly, though unbeknownst to any of them, her gun still had the safety on. When she was in charge of dealing with hostages, she always kept her safety on, never wanting to accidentally shoot anyone. Duncan had tried to convince her multiple times that it was much safer for her to have her gun ready for anything. However, he knew she would never change. Bridgette was a more sensitive soul and didn't want to hurt people unless she had to. He couldn't complain though, because she always had his back and, in an instance, she would shoot anyone if she absolutely had to, to protect her crew.

While Bridgette was watching the hostages, Geoff was moving around the bank, taking out any of the security guards, something he greatly enjoyed doing. It was all part of the plan. Geoff was supposed to secure any security, they did not need anyone outside of the crew to have access to a gun, nor did they want anyone to call in the cops. Bridgette was supposed to deal with the hostages, the readied she looked to shoot someone, the better. Lastly, Duncan was supposed to jump the desk to the back and keep any of the employees from alerting the police.

Duncan was currently readying himself to play his part, waiting for Geoff and Bridgette to get everyone else under control. Geoff knocked the last guard out with the butt of his gun as Duncan took a step towards the desk, but he quickly stopped in his tracks.

There she was once again, mixed in with the other hostages cowering on the floor. Except this time, she wasn't wearing the same blood-stained blouse as before. Instead, she was wearing clothes similar to the last time he saw her. She was wearing a pastel pink button up tucked into a gray pencil skirt. She was on the floor like the rest of them, her hands up to cover her head, the pink heels she was wearing hanging on only by her toes during her rush to the ground. Her hair that had been up in a bun had stray hairs falling loose from it as she dared to look up. Her hands shook as she took in her surroundings, realizing the nightmare she was in. This was probably the worst day most people could imagine, their greatest fear.

Courtney met his gaze from across the room and a pure look of fear crossed her face. Behind Duncan's mask sadness overtook him. More than anything he just wanted to comfort her, tell her she had nothing to fear from him or his crew. He would never hurt her. There was no bad blood amongst the Killer Bass, and Duncan considered her to be a part of his crew, even if she had yet to accept the offer.

He took a step towards her, away from the desk, away from where he was supposed to be. He just wanted her to be safe and be unafraid of him. He just wanted her to get out of there. She wasn't a hostage. She wasn't supposed to be a hostage. She wasn't supposed to be here. Why was she here?

He took another step towards her. Then another. Another. As she watched him get closer, something must have clicked with her. Duncan watched as the fear in Courtney's eyes turned to one of pure terror as she realized that he was heading directly towards her. She fell backwards from where she had been on her knees. She clumsily and pathetically crawled backwards, trying to escape from him. She reached up her arm, trying to shield herself from him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and Duncan suddenly felt like everything around his paused. Every sound around him fell mute and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, the sound of his own heartbeat, and the sobs of Courtney's begging pleas to him. He neared her. Closer and closer. She had to stop her slow retreat when her back hit one of the columns. He reached out and grabbed her arm gently.

He had to get her out of here. She couldn't be there. She shouldn't have been there, but how the hell was he going to get her out? He couldn't just take her out. Every witness there would see and the police would have questions, link her to him in some way. More importantly his crew would ask questions. He couldn't take her hostage. Everyone would look for her. She was an ADA for crying out loud. They would ask how she got away from the Killer Bass crew alive when so few others had. Every idea he could think of would only put her in more danger in the long run. She wasn't supposed to be there.

"Delinquent," a shout came right at his ear, bringing everything around him back to his attention, like pressing play on a movie. Bridgette was beside him, grabbing roughly onto his free arm. She wasn't where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be dealing with the hostages, not following him around like some lost puppy. She knew how to play her part in the crew and he didn't need her acting like some lost newbie. He met her gaze, ready to tell her so, but paused when he saw the concern she was hiding behind her mask.

He quickly glanced behind her where Geoff was in front of the counter, making quick movements back and forth from pointing his gun at the bank tellers and the crowd of bystanders. His eye movements were rapid. From the counter to the crowd to Duncan to the crowd to the counter. Geoff was concerned, Duncan could see it in his body language, in the way he gripped his gun. Duncan had rarely ever seen him so concerned. Only ever when a job went bad or when they were close to being arrested or killed. But this job hadn't gone wrong, at least not yet, and they weren't dead, at least not today.

Geoff was concerned about Duncan and his strange behavior. He had never seen his boss act this way, especially not during a heist. Sure he could get nutty and paranoid when he hadn't slept in a few days, or weeks, but this was new to Geoff. This looked like his boss was completely losing it, and he had never seen so much concern and fear in him before. He couldn't think about it right now. Right now, Geoff had to do everyone's job, all while having an eye Bridgette and Duncan in case they needed help. Geoff wasn't a newbie and he knew what his job was.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Bridgette questioned lowly so no one else could hear. She didn't need anyone to sense weakness coming from them. No one could think things weren't going as planned. They had to think this was all apart of the plan and they were conspiring for the next phase.

I have to tell her, Duncan thought panicked to himself. Duncan hadn't yet mention Courtney. He already knew the argument he'd hear. She was a lawyer, a goody two shoes, she would never fit into his world. He knew they wouldn't be wrong , the thoughts had crossed his mind too. Mostly though, he had wanted to protect her. She couldn't just straggle the line and live in her world and his. She had to make the full crossover or she would also be in danger. A constant problem for him to deal with at all angles. Now though, Duncan had to keep her safe and the only way he would be able to do that would be to tell Bridgette.

"She can't be here," Duncan told Bridgette in the same low tone. Under her mask, Bridgette's eyebrows knitted together. She had never heard such panic in Duncan's voice before. The Duncan she knew was always calm and collect, especially during a job.

"What do you mean? Who are you talking about?" Bridgette asked.

"Her," Duncan answered, turning back to Courtney, only it wasn't Courtney. This woman was nothing like Courtney.

Her dark curly hair was falling loose from her bun into an unruly mess, unlike Courtney's pin straight hair that Duncan had yet to see as anything but perfectly done. This woman's skin was much paler than that resulting from Courtney's Latina heritage. This woman's eyes were completely void of the tears he saw streaming down Courtney's cheeks. This woman's eyes were a bright green whereas Courtney's eyes were a dark brown, filled more with fierceness than bright color. This woman was no Courtney.

Fuck, he was the one acting like a newbie.

"Delinquent?" Bridgette questioned, "What's wrong with her?"

Nothing is wrong with her, because she's not Courtney , Duncan thought as his hand loosened on her wrist, but he still did not fully let go, as if holding on to the fear that it was her. She's not even crying or as scared as Courtney was. This woman was just staring up at him without fear. Maybe that's why he saw Courtney in her. Courtney wasn't afraid of him, and she wouldn't cry in fear from him.

Duncan turned back to Bridgette to try to make up some excuse to her, but he quickly faltered as his brain caught up to him with an important question. Why wasn't this bitch scared and crying?

He looked back at her, taking her in for who she was and not just what she was missing as Courtney. She was wearing a pants suit. Professional, yet flattering on her. Why would someone dress so nicely to a bank? Duncan glanced back to where she had originally been before she had backed up to the column. No purse or briefcase was there, just her phone and a clutch wallet. She's not a business woman , Duncan thought, trying to connect the dots, What kind of business woman doesn't carry some kind of bag or briefcase? Beside her phone was the woman's heel that she lost in her retreat. It was a heel, but barely. What did Bridgette call those kinds of heels? Cat? No, kitten heels. She was in court , Duncan realized. Court outfits were always obvious. No one ever wanted to irritate a judge or give off the wrong impression to a jury.

Duncan turned back to the woman, catching sight of a lump coming from her inner jacket. Duncan tightened his grip on the woman harshly, pulling her up to her feet.

"She's a cop," Duncan told Bridgette as the blonde moved to check the woman for anything. Bridgette pulled a handheld walkie from the woman's jacket, reassuring Duncan that she had no gun on her. "Did you have to make a court appearance today? There's no point carrying your gun when you're off duty and can't bring weapons into a courthouse."

"Did you call anyone?" Bridgette questioned loudly, making the bystanders nearby jump as she pointed her gun at the officer, "Did you report anything going on here?"

"No," the woman hissed out at her.

"I don't believe her," Bridgette said over to Duncan.

"I'll ask our eyes if there's been any call ins or reports," Duncan assured her as he went to step away and comm Harold.

"Boss, nice catch," Bridgette praised him as she resumed her original job of watching the hostages.

Right, nice catch, Duncan thought to himself with a relieved sigh. He got lucky is what happened. He didn't even see the woman for who she was until Bridgette yelled at him...again. He needed to get his head in the game. A mishap like that could have had the cops there in seconds with cuffs on them. He was lucky his instincts seemed to still work even when his mind was off somewhere else.

"King Dweeb, come in King Dweeb, do you copy?" Duncan said into his comm.

"I don't think I agreed to that codename," Harold replied.

"Well, until you figure out what you are going to be called, that's what we're going with," Duncan told him as Harold let out a sigh, "Police scanner. Have there been any reports or call ins?"

"There was a report about a fire on Fifth, a call about a heart attack in the Lincoln Apartment Complex, there was a very interesting one about a six car pile up on the highway, but it turned out to be just a six car fender bender—"

"Nothing about us?" Duncan interrupted.

"Nope, no one has reported a bank robbery or anything about the Bass crew. Well, at least not yet that is, it probably won't stay like that much longer," Harold told him.

"Keep me up to date." Duncan moved to where Geoff had been positioned. He gave him a nod, cuing him to jump behind the counter. Geoff did so with delight as he began yelling instructions to the employees.

Duncan moved to call in his B-team to take over as the watchers of the lobby while Bridgette, Geoff, and himself went to the vault. He paused briefly, watching the beautiful brunette that was perched on the counter. Courtney blew a kiss at him sarcastically before rolling her eyes and crossing her legs. She examined her nails with disinterest only glancing up at him once to see if he was coming towards her.

Now that for sure is in my own head , Duncan thought to himself, moving to call in his crew, I really need to get some sleep .

Courtney let out a sigh as she stabbed a pair of chopsticks into the takeout box on her counter. She reached for one of the wine glasses hanging from the rack before giving up and just grabbing a full wine bottle. She tiredly headed into her living room, Chinese food and entire bottle of wine in hand. She sank into her couch, tucking her legs under her as she put her attention to the TV that was already turned on.

"Previously on The Realest of Love in a Reality Show Setting," the television proclaimed as she expertly used her chopsticks, "James kissed Sara in front of Jamie, his ex-girlfriend, who proclaimed she is still in love with him even though she's currently dating Isaac."

"Nope," Courtney declared out loud, reaching for her remote as soon as she heard that entire run-on sentence of drama. She didn't like reality television on her good days, but she most definitely was too tired to try to even attempt to understand the drama that was unfolding on her tv screen. She changed the channel, sighing when it was not an improvement from The Realest of Love in a Reality Show Setting. "Whatever," she mumbled to herself before leaning over her couch to grab a file from her leather tote bag that acted as a purse and a briefcase. She nearly flipped over the armrest of her couch in her stretch for her bag, but she was eventually able to settle and relax back into her couch.

Courtney placed the file in her lap before glancing back at someone obstacle course show she had turned into the middle of. She expertly balanced the white, logoless takeout box on her thigh as she ate.

"Dumbass," she said as someone on the television face planted. Courtney set her takeout aside and focused her attention on the file in her lap. It was the murder case she had been given, or as it was better known to Courtney, the case that was going to make or break her career.

It was a simple murder case, which wasn't too hard to come by in the city, but what was untypical about the case was that no one believed there would be a guilty verdict. She had read many cases in her lifetime and met many lawyers and there was few cases that lawyers avoided like the plague. Yet there she was with the plague to the justice system, every lawyer's worst nightmare, right in her lap.

The case wasn't bad per say. When Courtney had been given the case, after hearing how awful the case would be from all the rumors and lore that the office had been milling around, she was expecting a nightmare, a stain to her entire career, and a case that would lead nowhere close to justice.

The case didn't lack evidence, it simply lacked the easy evidence most prosecutors want. There was no DNA left at the crime scene, no fingerprints. There was no smoking gun, no big neon sign saying who committed the murder. All the evidence Courtney had to work with was circumstantial. They knew how the victim was murdered, and they had been painted a fairly vivid picture of how the victim more than likely spent her last few moments, and law enforcement was sure they had gotten the guy who did it, but there was still no direct proof, no easy answer.

In the modern day of technology, most prosecutors wanted DNA evidence, clear cut proof of who was at the scene to commit the crime. Courtney had always been the opposite. Circumstantial evidence cases had always been her favorite and what she believed to be one of the truest forms of justice. Circumstantial evidence was what the courts were built out of before the luxury of forensics. All she had to do was connect the dots, make the puzzle whole, the only difference is she has to go find the pieces instead of having them laid out in front of her. Courtney knew she would just have to convince the jury that circumstantial evidence was just as convincing as forensics and direct evidence.

Courtney just needed to come up with a game plan, something she had been greatly struggling with. The reality television also wasn't helping. Courtney reached to grab for her remote as the television started saying, "Last time on Total Drama—"

"Let's switch to the good old news." Courtney mumbled eating some of her food as she changed the channel. A cheerful image of puppies being adopted filled the screen as the news anchor explained the many happy adoptions that had taken place recently.

"Focus on the happy puppies in the big bad city," Courtney said to herself as she grabbed the bottle of wine from her coffee table. She took a long drawn out drink from the bottle before setting it back down and grabbing her pen and legal pad. She began reading over the file for the millionth time, making notes as the news mumbled in the background about happy puppies. Courtney was willing to bet her career this guy had some professional level teaching. There was no way some idiot who decided to kill his ex-girlfriend would be able to do so without leaving any forensics.

"Breaking news!" the TV shouted, making Courtney jump and breaking her out of her focus. The brunette glanced up at the tv, watching as the screen flashed with a brightly colored graphic. "We have just gotten reports that there is a hostage situation going on at the First Union Bank. The police have put out a statement saying that they believe it is a bank robbery that has caused the situation."

"New day, same story," Courtney told the TV, tracing over the letters in her notes a second time.

"Police have surrounded the bank and are looking to begin negotiations. Wait a second...we are getting confirmation that this is a Killer Bass robbery."

Courtney glanced up to the screen to see police pushing back the barricade line even further. They always had to be more careful when it came to the Bass. The cameraman who was recording the scene struggled to get a shot around all of the officers, many of which had their guns drawled. However much chaos and disorder was in the way, she saw him. There he was peering out the window, out of the line of being shot, trying to plan his escape. Beside him, through the window, Courtney could see another figure waving a gun around, moving the hostages from the front lobby.

"What's your plan this time?" Courtney questioned him through the TV, despite knowing she was talking to herself.

Her question was soon answered as Duncan—no—the Delinquent kicked open the front door and let a wave of bullet fly towards the police. Soon two others in masks were beside him, shooting as well. They hide behind street cars as the police began to shoot back at them.

"That damn idiot," Courtney whispered, turning back to her file and ignoring the gunfight on her TV.

"Where the hell is our high ground support?" Duncan yelled into his comm as he crouched behind a car, gun in hand. Bullets tore up the car he was hiding behind, and Duncan just hoped that no stray bullet would somehow find its way into him.

He wasn't sure how the hell they had gotten into this mess. No, he knew exactly how, he just hadn't planned for it. The first bump in the road was the police coming up to DJ in the getaway car. Apparently, he was blocking the flow of traffic in the alley, not that an alley really had traffic. Therefore, he was forced to move the getaway car further away from the bank as to avoid tipping off the police to what was really going on. The second bump in the road came from his team not watching the hostages close enough. They were all over intimidating the bank tellers and employees, rubbing in the security guards faces that they were being robbed by the best in the city, but they weren't watching the civilians as closely as they should've been. One of the hostages had taken his team's distraction as a fleeting moment to call the authorities. Duncan would bet money it was that damn off duty police officer. Man, was Duncan going to tear them a new one when he was done getting shot at. Of course, with that one call, the entirety of the city's police force was outside of the bank waiting to take them down.

They would have to cross the onslaught of bullets being shot at them before having even a chance of getting to where DJ was with the getaway car.

"What's the plan, boss?" Bridgette questioned from the nearby car she was hiding behind. Beside her, Geoff was shooting away at the cops, easily taking one at a time down. However, even that was not enough to give them a break in the bullets to get to the getaway car. It was like a game of whack-a-mole. As soon as one was shot down another one just popped right up. In the back of his mind, Duncan made a note to change up their heist strategies. They must have become too predictable if the police were so prepared for their attacks.

"We got a man down," Eva screamed into the comm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bridgette flinch at the sudden screaming in her ear and Geoff's aim shook in surprise just enough to misfire into a police car's tire instead of the officer he was aiming at. Of course, if you ever asked him, the cowboy hat wearing criminal would say he was aiming for the tire all along.

Eva had been around the block a few times. She did her own crimes and was involved in a few gangs over the years, but overall, she was loyal to herself and her job. She was stoic and intimidating, and incredibly strong. She was often aggressive and was one of the best people to send out to fight the town. Whether people loved her or hated her, they all agreed on one thing: she was damn good at what she did. Which was the very reason Duncan had decided to seek out in hiring her.

Geoff and Bridgette had been apprehensive at first. Geoff because he was fearful of the tales he heard about Eva, and Bridgette because she was weary of people who were only loyal to themselves. Bridgette had tried to reason with him, arguing that they needed loyalty more than any other quality. Duncan had argued right back with her. At the time, it was only the three of them, and they had only gotten one additional hire, and that was DJ. They were a small group and there needed to be more of them if they were going to become as legendary as Duncan was planning. They had pulled off a few successful jobs, but all of them were small. The media around the city were starting to murmur about who Duncan and his group could be, but it wasn't headline worthy talk. Duncan wanted the Killer Bass to be known by the entire city, and he knew he needed Eva to do it.

Bridgette had finally caved with heavy sighs and even heavier regrets. It took weeks of calls and back alley information to find a way to meet with Eva, but he did it. Duncan had found Eva, back then only known to him by her codename, and he had negotiated with her on what it would take to get her to join his group.

Ah screw it, there's no point in lying. He had begged.

After her swift denial of his request, he had resorted to begged her to join, abandoning all pride and appealing to her ego. She had raised an interested brow at his begging, but she remained determined not to join his crew.

"Look," she had eventually sighed out, "I get twenty offers a week from people wanting me to join their crew, and more than half of them are up and comings who think they're going to take the crime world by storm. You know what happens to them? They're crushed in weeks, if even that long. What makes this Killer Bass crew that no one has heard of any different?"

Duncan had leaned across the table, close enough to feel the intimidation that came off Eva in waves. "The difference is me," he had spoken out quietly but with a confidence that had Eva raising her brow. Duncan stood from the table and shrugged on the jacket that he had draped over his chair. "Look, I can't make you join the Bass, even though I think you'll do well with it. I can promise you this though, this city is going to know the Killer Bass. We are going to be the legends of this concrete jungle, and you're going to look back and regret not joining, because you could have been a part of something legendary, and we would get there a lot quicker with you on our side."

Duncan turned to exit the building, head held up high as he aimed to walk out on the upper hand.

"Duncan," Eva had called out to him gruffly, the very thing that would change the Killer Bass history, "I don't do club handshakes and sitting behind a desk in some far-off location."

"Neither do I."

"You want me to join, I will, but the minute, the very second, your gang starts going downhill, it's every man for himself," Eva told him sternly as Duncan turned fully back around and reached out for her hand.

"Have a little faith."

Eva took his hand and shook it violently. Duncan had tried to keep from wincing, thinking it could very well be a test from Eva to see if he was strong enough.

"If you're going to be the leader of a notorious gang, you're going to need a code name to go by, and I refuse to call you Boss."

Duncan chanced a glance up at the roof where he knew Eva was supposed to be posted as a sniper. If someone was shot, it could tear their entire operation up. Well, more than it already was. Having a man down was a burden when it came to getting everyone else out.

"Who's hit?" Duncan growled into his comm, glaring at Geoff to resume his shooting.

"New dude," Eva growled back as Duncan rolled his eyes. Why did he always feel the need to add new people? Duncan peered over his hiding spot, gun ready to shoot. Down the road, just a bit away from the bank was a car untouched by the damage of the firefight.

"Malibu, give me the bag of money," Duncan called out to Bridgette as she gave him a confused look but obliged. She took the duffel from around her body and tossed it over to him. Duncan quickly worked to switch the money they had stolen into the larger duffel bag that had originally held their guns.

"What's the plan, D?" Geoff questioned.

"I'm going to take this duffel, that they think is filled with the money, book it to that car, and then you guys are going to take the actual money and escape in the getaway car," Duncan explained.

"Are you insane?" Bridgette hissed out at him. Even behind her mask, Duncan knew that Bridgette was glaring at him. For someone so small and civil, she really could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

"We don't have any other choice," Duncan insisted, "If we're going to get everyone in our crew and the money out of here, then I need to separate and lead them off your guys' trail."

"What makes you think they'll follow you and not us?" Bridgette questioned in a tone that would make anyone other than Duncan think they were being stupid.

"Cut the head off a serpent and the serpent dies," Duncan explained breezily.

"They want to get rid of the Bass more than they want to arrest all of us," Bridgette mumbled in understanding.

"I'm going to that car. You guys are going to draw their fire, so I don't get shot dead, and then once I get away and they start following me, you're going to fall back and get in the getaway car with everyone else," Duncan explained to her sternly, leaving no room for protest, "And that's an order."

wow, a chapter where courtney and duncan aren't together, well kind of.
side note, does anyone know how to write a gang war? no? yeah, i figured. also if you have any codename ideas for literally anyone (other than duncan and bridgette) then feel free to comment and share. because everything i can think of is too cliched. also, only cast from TDI, TDA, and TDWT. thanks!
also, i love reading your comments and theories and everything, so never hesitate!
thanks for reading 3 i hope you enjoyed
comments make me a happy writer :)