As you may have guessed by now, I have trouble coming up with titles. Anyhow, the current project is a Heist story. I originally wrote it as made for the web movie shot up in different short episodes. I wrote it a couple years back, got everyone together for some pre-production stuff and then we never made the movie due to time constraints. So I'm adapting into a story and here it is. As with "Hero's" Story I welcome your feedback, let me know what you like or dislike. Enjoy.
The room was dark except for the one bright light hung in the center, above the table, dangling from the drop ceiling. The walls were brick, painted over and over again with the cheapest off white paint possible. Sitting at the table was a wiry man, short blonde hair messily spiked this way and that. He was a small man, not young, but small and he leaned back, hands cuffed, an obnoxious little grin on his face.
“You and your little gang have quite a reputation, you’ve been busy the last few years.” Across the table from the man stood a police captain, his blue button down shirt tucked into grey pants. His tie hung just a little too low, thin glasses perched atop his nose, his hair was starting to pepper. A polished badge clipped on his belt read Captain Thomas Jackson.
“Listen, Trent, I know you aren’t smart enough to plan this all yourself, come clean and maybe we can work out a deal.”
The wiry man shrugged, his blue eyes almost passive as he stared up at the Captain. “I work alone.”
Captain Jackson tossed a manila folder down on the old table, surveillance pictures spilled out, pictures of Trent and three other men, all taken over the past few months.
“Try to cover for them all you want kid, but we’ll find your friends and when we do, one of them will break, turn on you and then you’re going away for a long time.”
“You seem so sure of yourself. If you know so much, why are you wasting time with me? Go out there and catch my friends.” Trent scoffed.
The Captain inhaled deeply and leaned down, palms resting on the table, the tip of his tie touching the old wood. “Listen smartass, this is your one chance to come clean, save yourself. You’d better start talking, and talking fast. Tell me everything and start at the beginning.”
A sigh escaped Trent’s lips as his eyes fell to the photos on the table, he wouldn’t talk, he’d never roll over on his friends. The four of them were like family and you didn’t turn on family. Sitting in the cold interrogation room he couldn’t help but let his mind slide back, back to the beginning.
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