were lots of people at the pier during the evenings, but that night it was full of them. But Bridgers didn’t stop. Counting only on a dumb luck, he flashed through the crowd.
At first, JB didn’t understand why so many people were there since the curfew was on, but soon he saw the ferries that were sailing near the coast to evacuate the people. Although they were an obstacle for him to get through, he found in them an excellent cover to get away from the chase.
The last turn he took led him to the pier itself. It was the finish line. The road's end laid in about fifty yards ahead. JB was signaling as hard as he could for people to get out of his way. It was it, he pushed the gas for the last time, then he stood up on the foot pegs. The rest of the road in front of him was clear. Bridgers made a keen throw backward and leaped off the bike. The vehicle darted off the pier into the water. The big guy fell to the hard ground from where he kept rolling and rolling till his body was out of the initial velocity. All confused, beaten up, and covered in dirt and blood, he tried to walk it out. He wasn’t sure about what happened to the bike, where it landed. Every thought of his was all about getting out of that place.
An angry crowd gathered around the gangster, they were watching and whispering, but no one dared to come close. The talking and whispering were gradually transforming into disturbance and indignation. Some of the people were shouting at JB, but he couldn’t hear a thing, his head had taken a hard hit and the hearing was still blocked by an inner ringing. Soon he started getting back to his senses. He raised up on the feet. The ringing and vertigo were passing with each next second. The crowd’s attitude didn’t worry him much. But when his hearing returned he noticed that the familiar sirens were getting closer. The police cars were already on the waterfront; the gangster didn’t have much time. He ran along the pier to mix with the crowd, but it was impossible while he looked like he did.
People were watching the big guy running, none of them knew what was happening, but the interest grew. JB took off his jacket right on the run to dump it into the water, he did the same to the bloody t-shirt. All that had left on his torso were a ragged bulletproof vest covered in bullet dents from and a white singlet under it. He opened all of the clasps and instantly felt an enormous relief in the chest. It felt as he got rid of a colossal weight that was pressing on him forever. The used means of protection followed the other parts of JB’s outfit.
The policemen who were chasing JB arrived at the pier, four uniforms appeared from those two cars. They looked at the confused crowd, but the suspect wasn’t there anymore. Two of them went closer to the people to look around, ask some questions. Another two were searching those spots where JB dumped his clothes. Their efforts didn’t pay off: the suspect was gone, same as his motorcycle, the vest, and the clothes. Everything had drowned.
The cops were perplexed and angry. Just a few minutes before they were chasing the guy, and soon after he disappeared from the pier, which had a single exit controlled by them. After some more time of unsuccessful search, they gathered near their cars to have a discussion. The talk didn’t last for long, soon three law servants went back into their vehicles. The last one walked aside, he made sure of his solitude and pulled out a cell to make a call.
There were lots of yellow cabs around that area, in fact, most of the cars were. So it wouldn’t be hard to find a shelter inside one of them, like JB did. It wasn’t cheap though; the taxi driver took a thousand dollars to keep him safe. From there, the gangster gained a good point to watch the policeman who was talking over the phone. He recognized the guy, it was one of the locals, Officer Mentenny. The gang had an agreement with this exact law servant that meant to protect them from
At first, JB didn’t understand why so many people were there since the curfew was on, but soon he saw the ferries that were sailing near the coast to evacuate the people. Although they were an obstacle for him to get through, he found in them an excellent cover to get away from the chase.
The last turn he took led him to the pier itself. It was the finish line. The road's end laid in about fifty yards ahead. JB was signaling as hard as he could for people to get out of his way. It was it, he pushed the gas for the last time, then he stood up on the foot pegs. The rest of the road in front of him was clear. Bridgers made a keen throw backward and leaped off the bike. The vehicle darted off the pier into the water. The big guy fell to the hard ground from where he kept rolling and rolling till his body was out of the initial velocity. All confused, beaten up, and covered in dirt and blood, he tried to walk it out. He wasn’t sure about what happened to the bike, where it landed. Every thought of his was all about getting out of that place.
An angry crowd gathered around the gangster, they were watching and whispering, but no one dared to come close. The talking and whispering were gradually transforming into disturbance and indignation. Some of the people were shouting at JB, but he couldn’t hear a thing, his head had taken a hard hit and the hearing was still blocked by an inner ringing. Soon he started getting back to his senses. He raised up on the feet. The ringing and vertigo were passing with each next second. The crowd’s attitude didn’t worry him much. But when his hearing returned he noticed that the familiar sirens were getting closer. The police cars were already on the waterfront; the gangster didn’t have much time. He ran along the pier to mix with the crowd, but it was impossible while he looked like he did.
People were watching the big guy running, none of them knew what was happening, but the interest grew. JB took off his jacket right on the run to dump it into the water, he did the same to the bloody t-shirt. All that had left on his torso were a ragged bulletproof vest covered in bullet dents from and a white singlet under it. He opened all of the clasps and instantly felt an enormous relief in the chest. It felt as he got rid of a colossal weight that was pressing on him forever. The used means of protection followed the other parts of JB’s outfit.
The policemen who were chasing JB arrived at the pier, four uniforms appeared from those two cars. They looked at the confused crowd, but the suspect wasn’t there anymore. Two of them went closer to the people to look around, ask some questions. Another two were searching those spots where JB dumped his clothes. Their efforts didn’t pay off: the suspect was gone, same as his motorcycle, the vest, and the clothes. Everything had drowned.
The cops were perplexed and angry. Just a few minutes before they were chasing the guy, and soon after he disappeared from the pier, which had a single exit controlled by them. After some more time of unsuccessful search, they gathered near their cars to have a discussion. The talk didn’t last for long, soon three law servants went back into their vehicles. The last one walked aside, he made sure of his solitude and pulled out a cell to make a call.
There were lots of yellow cabs around that area, in fact, most of the cars were. So it wouldn’t be hard to find a shelter inside one of them, like JB did. It wasn’t cheap though; the taxi driver took a thousand dollars to keep him safe. From there, the gangster gained a good point to watch the policeman who was talking over the phone. He recognized the guy, it was one of the locals, Officer Mentenny. The gang had an agreement with this exact law servant that meant to protect them from
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