quarta-feira, 5 de outubro de 2011

Fifteen Pounds: The End

Just after Jack got out of the train and through the barriers, he used the cellphone that was in the backpack to ring and ask Tyler to pick him up at the station. After a few minutes, there was Tyler with this convertible Jack had never seen before. "D'you fucking pinch (18) it?", asked Jack, after he saw the pink keychain and a girly wallet.

Tyler didn't care about Jack's questions. He just wanted to know why the hurry, "Bloody hell, why'd you have to wake me up at….. ten fucking am?". On their ride to Tyler's flat, Jack explained everything and they tried to figure out a plan to sort everything out. After a few minutes on the narrow roads of North London, they made it to the flat.

Tyler already had an idea. "It's gonna be risky", he said, "if they know where you've got to drop this backpack". Jack agreed, "well, if they know where it is, there's no way it's gonna be easy. We just gotta be careful…". Jack heard his plan, got up and went to the living room while Tyler was taking a shower and having his breakfast.

He had never been in that flat. It was huge, he thought, or maybe he had just grown accustomed to his ant-sized flat in West Ham. "This can really be my last day on Earth", he thought as he swapped channels. ITV Sport was advertising a great football match for that afternoon, Manchester United x Liverpool. He started to wonder if he'd be alive to watch that match.

"Off we go, boy", Tyler yelled on his out of the bathroom. Jack turned off the TV, stood up and made the Sign of the Cross. He did not believe in God whatsoever.

They entered the car and left for Central London. It definitely wasn't going to be easy. Tyler's plan involved him going to the top of a building with a rifle to cover Jack while he dropped the backpack. Jack was laughing kind of desperately when he saw the disembodied rifle inside the backpack Tyler was carrying.

After an hour, almost at noon, they arrived at Westminster. "Alright, I'll go to the top of that building, wait a few minutes inside that coffee shop and then leave to drop the backpack."

Jack's heart was racing. Racing like never before. He ordered a hot chocolate (he paid £3 for it), drank it all quickly and left. He looked to the top of the building and saw Tyler with the rifle already aiming at the spot where he had to drop the backpack.

After a few yards, he reached the spot when a guy armed with a silenced 9mm handgun came from behind him and pointed the weapon at his neck. "You got close, bloke, but no cigar." Jack looked furiously at the building and saw the same thing happening to Tyler. "Give me the bloody backpack RIGHT FUCKING NOW." Pop. Tyler was dead. The armed guy took Jack's backpack and weapon. Pop. He entered the black Ford Focus and left.

The morning ended as well as Jack's life. He was gone.

(18) - British expression/synonym for "steal"


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