ONE LAST JOB

Giovanni parked his van on the walkway a couple of blocks away from the warehouse. Just in case. He personally could not care less about it being seen outside the warehouse as there was a senseless part of him that wanted to be recognised for the crimes he had committed, but Airi was very particular about their safety and inconspicuousness. The way she constantly obsessed over the little details too. She was worse than Batuhan in his opinion.

Most times though, he could understand her cautious behaviour. Appreciated it even. With a group as chaotic as theirs, the smart part of him was glad that they had someone like Airi to bring them down to Earth; to bring a sense of order within the chaos.

He trudged down the empty walkway, his feet dragging across the concrete lazily. The moon was trying to peek through at him from behind the clouds, the streetlight cast a sliver of light onto the pathway and the roads were empty too. It was late as fuck. He searched his pockets for his switchblade. Skilfully, he flicked it around. His footsteps were loud against the ground and once he made it to the warehouse, he cautiously looked around for any prying eyes.

Not seeing anyone around, he inserted the password to open the metal door. Pushing his weight into it, it huffed and clanged open under the strain.

"Stop. In the name of the law."

In the darkness of the room, he felt the barrel of a handgun kissing his forehead. He blinked in perplex, inching backwards just in case. Not that range would protect him from a .357 Magnum bullet from a desert eagle. He did not know if he trusted the kid not to accidentally blow his brains out though.

"Identify yourself, Lloyd."

"You can't say my name and then tell me to identify myself, Airi," he responded with an amused smile inching onto his mouth. "That's not how it works. You have already given the intruder more leeway than they previously had by doing that."

"Dammit," she whispered under her breath, berating herself. "Identify yourself please," she emphasised her words.

She did know that he could just disarm her if he wanted to, right?

With an eye roll, he identified myself as, "Lloyd."

Airi remained quiet for a second.

He blinked against the darkness to try and see the outline of her small, lanky frame. His nose picked up on the tickling smell of dust and the strong stench of oil emitting from the cars and bikes parked inside the warehouse. They all belonged to Batuhan. Well, for the most part. It was not like he stole a handful of them or anything like that. Definitely not.

"I think he's clear, guys," she said to the rest of the gang he was presuming.

Eventually, the lights were turned on and once his eyes had adjusted to the abrupt brightness, it was as if his senses rushed back to him all at once. He caught the familiar, brown haired, lanky Airi standing in front of me, the handgun that was once dangerously kissing his forehead being dropped to rest by her side loosely.

"Who gave you the gun, kid?"

"No need to worry, Lloyd," she said with a playful grin. "They gave me a squirt gun. See?"

And then she proceeded to squirt water on his face.

"Okay." He inched away, irritably blocking the mist from further reaching his face with his hand. "Okay, Airi."

Airi Suzuki.

She was the newest of their recruits alongside her brother, Mickey.

Giovanni found her on the streets.

When he first met her, he realised that she was a soft spoken kid in a world that would swallow her very quickly. So, Giovanni brought her into their little triangle.

When she first started, Marcellin Raphaël took her under his wing as his prodigy. He taught her everything there was to know about how to hack into basically anything. She learned fast. Maybe a little too fast. She even surpassed her mentor. To the point where the mantle of the main hacker was passed down to her.

"I don't know why you're doing this bit, Airi," her brother's deep voice rang low from within the room.

Airi pulled her black mask off her face and whenever he saw her facial features, he was always left speechless. For someone who was merely six years younger than him, she looked younger than she was.

Her eyes thinned in an annoyance that was directed at Mickey for calling her out on her bit. It was fine. He found it humorous.

Mickey approached him from the shadows, pulling him into a side hug. He, as usual, was wearing a two piece. This one was salmon pink. His cufflinks and dress shoes were both milky white.

Mick here was the brains of the operation.

There was not a plan that this guy came up with that was yet to fail.

His plans were never the straightforward rob bank, get in car and drive away from robbery. When he designed a plan, he went above and beyond. No detail was left unchecked. Sometimes even he recognised that Mick went a little too above and beyond. He was educated too; he could hear it in the way he spoke. He sometimes used words that he had never heard before; he would swear the kid carried a dictionary in his pocket.

Mick pulled him along with him towards the other room where the planning table was situated. The rest of the group was there.

"Lloyd," Batuhan exclaimed when he saw him, a bright smile stretching onto his face.

This was Batuhan also known as Mr B.

Giovanni and Airi were the only ones who called him that. He introduced himself as Batuhan all those months ago when he was still lockpicking cars and dropping them off to the person they were both working for previously, he barely paid him any mind. He simply stayed in his lane and stuck to himself. It never occurred to him that he was going to get recruited to drive for his heist group.

Batuhan was not necessarily the leader of the pack, but he did tend to take leadership of the team on most accounts. Giovanni liked to focus on his getaway driving and Marc… well, there were still some sentences he was still trying to decipher from the guy.

Batuhan opened his arms wide, inviting him into a hug and as usual, he was not wearing a tee. To show off his abs for sure.

Reluctantly, Giovanni allowed himself to get embraced by him. His arms were tight around his back, almost forcing him to rest his chin on his shoulder. He pouted, his face visibly heating up in embarrassment.

Behind Batuhan, he spotted Marc who was sitting comfortably on the planning table, the blueprints of the building we had scoped out for the past three weeks were laid down flat on the wood. The look on his face was a cross between humour and severity. Never had he met a man who could look so welcoming and yet so menacing at the same time.

"Where did you disappear to last night?" Batuhan asked once he had pulled away, holding him at arm's length.

"Huh?" he replied evasively, hoping to deflect the question.

"Last night, Mickey said you got a message on your phone and you left the warehouse in a hurry without even saying a word," Batuhan pressed, his tone laced with suspicion.

Giovanni wrinkled his nose in irritation and with an unimpressed look, he glowered over at Mick who was pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

"Gio," Batuhan whispered, "are you hiding shit from me?"

Giovanni let out a weary sigh, knowing he could not avoid this conversation. "Look, I..." he hesitated, wondering how much he should reveal. "Something came up. A... family emergency."

"Family?" His eyes widened slightly, the hard edge in his expression softening and then he leaned closer to him to muse quietly, "Felix?"

He nodded. 

"He found you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Did he hurt you?"

Giovanni, feeling conflicted, decided not to disclose the truth and instead shook his head.

There was nothing tangible to offer as evidence. His previously inflicted stab wound had astonishingly and inexplicably mended itself. He could not shake the feeling that the enigmatic face he had encountered the previous night was somehow connected to this inexplicable turn of events. He had recovered from even more severe injuries in the past, he could not feign surprise at experiencing such an improbable recovery once again.

The angel with the emerald green eyes took care of him.

Batuhan studied him for a moment, his gaze searching. "Okay, but if you ever need to deal with another... family emergency, I hope you know that you can talk to me. You know we've got your back, right?"

Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. Then he glanced at Mickey, who was now looking at him apologetically. "You," he stared, pointing a finger at him warningly, "next time, mind your own business, alright?"

Mick raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry, dude. I was just worried, that's all."

"Cut him some slack," Batuhan inserted with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I was the one who pressed him."

"Still, he always thinks that he is so much smarter than everyone else."

"He is though." Batuhan wrapped his arm over his shoulder and pulled him away before an argument broke out between them. "Anyway, are you ready for the job?"

Giovanni did not immediately answer him with his usual steady nod.

He brought his hands up to harshly cup his face. "Hey, you good?"

At first, Giovanni did not understand why he was reluctant to immediately tell him that he was ready, but then he realised why. His previous words when we spoke on the phone were still bothering me.

"Last job, yeah?"

Batuhan remained silent for a few seconds. The cheerful expression on his face had fallen off completely. His gaze was searching and earnest.

Was he trying to figure out whether he genuinely wanted this to be the last job?

On the one hand, he fucking hated feeling like it was do or die what with him being the getaway driver and all, but on the other hand, he was a whore for the adrenaline rush.

When he realised that his question had grabbed the attention of the rest of the group, Batuhan broke out with a smile.

Then he burst out laughing loudly.

For a few seconds, it was only his jubilant laughter ringing loudly in the warehouse until Airi joined him. When he glanced over at her, Giovanni instantly noticed the bemusement glimmering in her eyes. She had no idea what she was laughing at. She was simply doing it because Batuhan was. It sounded extremely forced too.

"Airi, I swear to fucking God," Mickey uttered irritably, abruptly cutting off her laughter.

"We will talk about it after the job is done," Mr B promised. "For now, let's focus on remembering the plan, yeah? Marc, you have the goods?"

His eyes went back to Marc when he nodded.

Marcellin Raphaël. He was the recently proclaimed backup hacker of the group. Put Marc behind a laptop and he could hack into any mainframe. There was no stopping him. The most difficult firewall to crack would be placed in front of him and he would hack into it like a piece of cake.

Airi called him X because that was what he introduced himself as when they first met. He probably did not trust her enough to let her know his real name, but after months of busting banks together, she was eventually introduced to Marcellin Raphaël. Unfortunately, Airi had already gotten accustomed to calling him by his previous alias.

She would usually refer to him as Marc when they needed to communicate over the radio during a job, but other times, she just stuck to calling him by his alias.

Even though he was usually cool, calm and collected behind a blue screen, Marc was one crazy motherfucker. He had never met a man who was as much of a walking contradiction as he was.

When he was quiet, he was quiet and when he was speaking, he was yelling obscenities. Sometimes they could not even understand what he was trying to say. He spoke way too fast. Nonetheless, Giovanni had no doubt in his mind that he was speaking English. His mouth probably worked faster than his brain did most of the time.

After spending all that time with him, Airi picked up on his mannerisms and speaking patterns and she sometimes translated what Marcellin was trying to say to them.

"Alright, good. As long as Marc has the goods, we are all set. Airi, you ready?"

Airi nodded at Mr B confidently, the corners of her eyes crinkling when she grinned excitedly.

"I like your confidence, kid. Now you know this one won't be as easy as the last one, right? And the payout is two times that of the previous bank."

"You know what I always say, Mr B," Airi started, stretching her fingers in preparation, "I hack for the fun of it, not the money."

Batuhan stayed quiet after she said her infamous line and then jokingly he turned to Marc and mused, "You sure you don't wanna hack?"

"No, Airi's got this, dude," Marc responded fastidiously. His words seemed to give the kid an extra boost of confidence to do the job.

"Okay," Batuhan murmured and then he brought his gaze back onto him and said, "Mickey will let you in on the plan on the drive there. Walk with me."

Batuhan cocked his head towards the door and without even checking if he had acknowledged his command, he waltzed out of the planning room.

Giovanni glanced over at the rest of the group, question staining his face. What did they know? Why was Batuhan acting weird… weirder than usual?

Marcellin Raphaël shrugged unknowingly, but the way his gaze avoided mine afterwards let him know that he knew something. Something they were hiding from me. Since when did this become the last job for them?

Begrudgingly, he left the room and when he did not find Batuhan standing outside, he assumed he was in the office upstairs.

Entering the office, he saw him on the other side of the table. "Close the door behind you," Mr B demanded.

He did as told, his heart unknowingly beating a mile per minute. After turning around, he leaned back into the door, trying to appear casual. As if he was not internally panicking.

Batuhan rummaged for something through one of the drawers on the table.

His arse cheeks immediately clenches nervously.

Was he reaching for a gun? Was he getting blooded out of the group? Did he do something wrong? He drove perfectly fine for his previous job. Well, besides the usual toying with the cops.

When he raised it in his hand, his eyes were instantly drawn to the item, and he released a loud sigh when he saw what it was.

A docket. Not our signature desert eagle. Luckily.

"After this job, your debt to me is officially cleared," he announced.

Batuhan threw the docket on the table. In his eyes, it immediately transformed into an offering laid out for him on a silver platter. His words did not register until after a while. Subconsciously, a smile tugged onto his lips and he could feel his tense muscles relaxing at his words. He did not know what that feeling was. Relief?

"So that's what you meant when you said this is the last job," he said, bobbing his head up and down in understanding. "You weren't saying it's their final job. You were saying it's my final job."

"Yeah." Batuhan took a seat in the leather chair, leaning back into it leisurely. "I mean, that's if that's what you want."

Carefully, he approached the table. Picking up the docket from the table, he glanced up at him and his eyes asked for permission to open it. Batuhan waved his hand as if to silently give him the go-ahead.

Slowly, he pried the docket open and from it, he pulled out the single document. Even with it feeling light in his grasp, it weighed so much more. Reading what stood on the paper, the words all mixed together, and they spelt one thing. Freedom. He felt like a prisoner who had just been freed from his self-entrapment.

Wiping a hand over his face in disbelief, he looked back up at Mr B and nodded respectfully. It was good to know that he was a man of his word.

"I won't lie, Gio, I was very reluctant to give that to you," Mr B admitted, pointing at the docket in his hand.

He hugged it against his chest almost as if he was holding a newborn baby protectively. "Why?"

"Well, I mean, why would I ever wanna risk losing my god driver?" Batuhan jested.

He cracked a smile of amusement at that.

"No, but on a serious note, over the past two years, I have not only seen you as a friend, Gio, you're my brother. You're family."

Again, a grin broke out over his lips.

"You know, when we started our little group when it was just you, me and Marc hitting that first store for what we thought was the biggest lick of our lives at the time," Batuhan chuckled under his breath in humour again.

He remembered that. The first job. He was so fucking nervous.

"I saw your driving and I knew at that very moment that you were something special. Don't get me wrong, you were fucking work; still are. And there were times when I thought maybe getting a driver who wouldn't risk their fucking life behind the wheel, or toy with the Feds just because maybe that would have been better."

It probably would have been better. He caused so many near deaths from heart attacks in the club.

"But I saw more to you. A gem buried within solid concrete. I saw how the thrill of the chase helped you cope with your inner demons and I noticed how you started to smile more. Then you found Airi and our little family of four felt complete."

"You mean five. Mickey too," he added.

"Nah, fuck Mickey," Batuhan said with a straight face.

He snorted.

A lighthearted air lingered in the atmosphere between us. At that very moment, Batuhan Terzi was not someone who he had to work for to pay off his debt. At that very moment, he was not the man who brought him into this group to merely profit off me. At that very moment, he was not his leader.

When the taut man stood up and walked out from behind the table, slowly approaching him, he stood tall and erect, his gaze holding steady. Once he was standing in front of me, a breath of space between us, Batuhan pursed his lips. Reading everything in his eyes, he nodded and then grabbed a handful of his hair, banging our foreheads together.

"You ready for your last job, Gio?"

A harsh breath heaving from his nostrils, he replied with determination, "You don't even have to ask."