'We need a plan – a good one.' Li Chang says.
'I think I've one,' Ruòxi speaks up. 'Fredrick Williams, an Investor and a good friend of Senator Theodore. He's daughter, Jane, is getting married soon. This is a perfect time to act. Senator Theodore will surely be invited, and because he wants to keep a good relationship with Mr. Williams at all cost, he'll be present.'
'It's the right time to strike. We'll abduct the senator, and finish him off. I'll kill him slowly, just like he did to me, when he left me to die in that cursed jail.' Li Chang glances at Ruòxi and Wu. 'You two will enjoy the party, too; you'll be my inside men. Don't worry, he doesn't know you two.'
'What? It's almost impossible to go into Fredrick William's house if not invited, and speaking of being inside men is a suicide mission.' Wu complains.
Li Chang smiles mischievously. 'Leave me to do the planning,' He utters with a smirk.
Rodney was smoking marijuana with his friend. He was in one of Scorpion X's hidden warehouses.
'Dude.' He turns to face his friend. 'I really need to get out of this stupid hideout. I need to feel like Rodney again, with all my girls chilling out with me; and all my stuff I love. This place is a fucking big cage. I will not be hiding forever.' He complains.
'Rodney, this place is the safest place you can be, right now. You killed a girl a month ago, you don't expect to be living in paradise.' His friend states the fact.
'I'm going out. I don't really care about any smoke solid (not realistic) problems.' Rodney says, and leaves the warehouse, and into his car. 'It will just be for tonight, kiddo. I got your six if the big dog (my father) starts to back.' He tells his friend, and turns on the car's engine. 'I will enjoy myself to the very most.' He drives off.
He reaches the bar, and he gets off the car. As he walked to the bar, people stared at him. Most of them looked at him in a strange way.
What's up with this people. He thinks to himself. When he opened the entrance door, there was a sudden silence. The place was cold. It's ambient smell was of alcohol. All eyes were on him, it felt like they saw a ghost. He walks to the barman, who was holding a newspaper, in which Rodney's sketched picture was published, but Rodney didn't get a glimpse of the sketch. He seats on a bar chair, in front of the bar counter.
'Two shots of the usual, please.' Rodney says. The bar man was silent as he poured the strong drink into the shot glass, and that was unusual.
'Guy, why is this place so cold, today? I usually see all those hot chicks blowing kisses at me. What happened to them?' He asks the bar man, who cared nothing about his questions. At that time, Rodney hears sirens wailing from a distance. He knew the police were after him. Immediately, he pulls out a revolver firearm. He points the gun at the barman.
'Who called the police? Who fucking called the police?!' Rodney yells. The man didn't even flinch; he was unafraid. He pulls out a firearm, a shot gun with two barrel, under the bar counter. He cocks it, and points it at Rodney.
'Hey, If you don't want anybody to get hurt, drop that damn thing you call a gun.' The barman commands.
Rodney lowers his gun's aim. He looks at the barman, then he asks, 'Do you have a backdoor?'
The barman points at a corner in the bar. 'You can save yourself the trouble, and use the door.'
Rodney runs to the corner, and he sees a door. He pushes the door open, and to his excitement, he was outside the bar. The siren wailed even louder than before, as they came closer. He had to make a run for his safety. So he ran and ran, but he couldn't outrun the police. The policemen seemed to have ambushed him. They were everywhere; surrounding him at all sides. He could only run as far as a kilometer from the bar. He found himself in a bridge. He wouldn't dare jump it, if he loved his life; the bridge was directly overhead a busy road, with hundreds of cars passing.
Now, the police surrounded him, closely, using their vehicles as a cover from Rodney. They were all stationed and ready to shoot. Their aims were fixed at Rodney.
Immediately, an officer holds up a bullhorn, and says, 'This is the United States Police, you're needed for questioning. You should comply with us, or you'll face more crime charges.'
Rodney was not ready to go to jail. For the first time in his life he was terrified of going to jail. He had murdered a lot of people, and he could be sentenced to death. He shivered. He felt rivulets of sweat, running down his face. The headlights of the cars flashed on his face. He felt his heart grow cold, and he raises his gun to shoot the officer with the bullhorn, but he is shot multiple times, bullets piercing through his skin. He felt the excruciating pain all over body, his own blood gushing out from the numerous wounds he had. He falls on his knees, destabilized. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He still held on to the pistol. He remembers the people he killed, so now it was his turn to be killed. He then falls to the ground, he breathes his last, and soon his pulse stopped – He was dead. He died with no honor – he died like an animal.
The policemen confirmed him dead, so they covered his body. And they took it with them.