The first officer walked up to his colleague and asked him not to go ahead to issue the citation against Rachel for reckless driving.“Let her go,” he said, his voice firm.“Really?” The second officer asked, looking surprised. He couldn't understand what was actually happening. “Yes, her son in-law had pleaded on her behalf.” The first officer replied, trying to make his colleague understand the reason why the had changed his mind.“What about the citation against her for reckless driving?” The other officer asked.“That won't be needed anymore,” the first officer replied, dismissing any attempt to continue with issuing the citation against Rose.Turning to Drake who was about to leave, “We apologize again for the misunderstanding, Mr. Sullivan.” The second officer said, his tone sincere.He couldn't help but admire him. Even though Rachel had been rude to him all along, he still begged for her and that alone had made Drake earn his respect.Drake nodded, accepting the apology also
As Drake approached the entrance of the delivery location in Woodruff, a feeling of unease gnawed within him. It was just like the last time he saw it, even worse.There were more dilapidated buildings lined up along the street, their windows falling apart, doors out of place and roofs almost completely off the buildings, yet groups of people met in these buildings.Dark alleyways seemed to stretch endlessly, shadows moving within them, emanating a constant threat of violence causing a wave of fear to course through Drake. Moving forward, his eyes caught sight of a group of men who looked like sentries keeping watch for any signs of trouble or unwelcome intruders. The occasional flare of a lighter and the glow of cigarettes illuminated their faces, revealing expressions hardened by years of survival in the underworld.Drake tightened his grip on the handlers of his bike, his heart pounding. He managed to navigate through the narrow streets and menacing stares until he finally arrive
“What!” Hitler Ivanov's exclamation pierced through the dimly lit room where he sat with his most trusted lieutenants as he opened the package which Drake had delivered to him through one of his thugs.Hitler Ivanov, popularly called “Viking” was the leader of a small notorious gang whose operations weren't just limited to Woodruff but to other similar places within the city.He was greatly feared and respected amongst other gang leaders who operated in the underworld, just like the notorious Adolph Hitler of the Nazis in Germany.His operations were vast and complex, spanning illegal arm deals, drug trafficking and money laundering.He had earned himself the nickname “Viking” as a result of his cunningness and show of no mercy. No one had ever stepped on his way and lived to tell the tale afterwards.He had opened the package with a sense of anticipation, expecting the arms he had been promised only to be met with the surprise that contained in the box was nothing were toys for littl
The car pulled in front of Hitler's quarters and the thugs pulled Drake out, dragging him inside. They marched him through the dimly lit corridors until they finally came before Hitler.The door was flung open and Drake was shoved inside, falling on his knees right in front of Hitler.Victor leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Drake. There was this fury in his eyes that sent panic through Drake's spine.“You,” Hitler hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “What did you do with the package?”Drake furrowed his brow, “I don't understand,” he managed to say. Everything was happening so fast that he found it difficult to comprehend what exactly was going on. His mind quickly flashed back to Donald switching the boxes just before he had gone out on delivery.It was then it occurred to him that it was Donald who had switch the boss's package which had replaced it a box of junk items.“Will you stop playing dumb with me and tell me how my $20 million worth of stuff turned into
Drake staggered to work still bleeding from the wounds that the thugs had inflicted upon him. He couldn't help but have the feeling that Donald could be possibly behind it. He remembered him saying he'll set him up and he had surely done so.It must have been the reason he had personally ordered him to make the delivery at Woodruff. He must have had it all planned out from the beginning.From the gate, his colleagues burst into laughter. “What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into, Drake?” One of them began. “What did you do? Wrestle a bear?” He jeered, a wide grin spreading across his lips. “Since when did you become a boxer?” Another mocked. “Your opponent, whosoever he was, deserves some accolades.”“Looks like someone had a rough day,” another chimed in, smirking.Drake's face remained sullen, his eyes dark with a mix of exhaustion and anger but he had no time to let their mockery get to him. He simply ignored them and headed straight to Donald's office.“Donald!” Drake s
After Drake left Donald's office, he marched straight to the office of the logistics manager. As the one who is responsible for overseeing and coordinating the movement of goods, materials, and resources in the company, Drake wanted to know if he knew anything about the delivery to Woodruff and why he had approved it in the first place. Carlos Truman, the logistics manager, was one of the many people who didn't like Drake. If he could have his own way he'd have fired him already, but since Drake's in-laws had secured the job for him, it put him in a difficult situation.He was attending to some paperworks when he heard a knock on the door. “Who's there?” He asked.“It's Drake Sullivan,” Drake replied.“Come in,” Carlos ushered him in.Carlos was surprised to see Drake looking so bloodied as he entered the office. He couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself. But that wasn't his concern. “What brings you to my office?” He asked, ignoring the bloody state in which he had see
Donald entered into the office with an air of confidence, a smug smile tugging at his lips. He already knew why Carlos had sent for him and seeing Drake right there in the office, he just couldn't help but smile.“Donald,” Carlos began sternly. “What happened with the package you asked Drake to deliver earlier today?”“I don't understand sir. What do you mean?” Donald asked, sounding polite and innocent.“You see, Drake here is accusing you of switching the package he was supposed to deliver and setting him up. What do you have to say? Is it true?” Carlos asked, all in one breath.Donald feigned a look of surprise and concern. “Absolutely not, sir. The package I gave Drake was the exact package the client ordered for. If there was any problem, it must have happened after it left my hands.”Drake’s eyes opened wide in disbelief. “That's not true, you set me up Donald!”“And why on earth will I do that?” Donald sneered.“You said so yourself, just right before I left with the package.”
Carlos' patience wore thin as he watched the argument between Drake and Donald on who was telling the truth and who was lying continued right before him.Unable to take it anymore, he flared, as he pointed at the door. “Both of you, get out of my office,” he commanded. “I've had enough of your nonsense!”Drake and Donald stood there stunned, but Carlos wasn't done yet. “Drake, you're responsible for this mess,” he continued, “You'll return the missing items from the package to the client immediately and I don't want to care how you'll do it. All I care about is you having it done. If the client pulls out because of your incompetence, you'll find yourself in a world of trouble.”Drake, once again, tried to explain but Carlos cut him off sharply, with a wave of his hand.“I don't want to hear any more excuses. Get out and fix this, now!” He barked.Drake's heart sank. He knew Donald was behind all that was happening, but he had no proof. Reluctantly, he left Carlos' office, the weight