“The next topic for today is the homicide of twenty-two-year-old Michael “Altoid” Link.”

Cairo grips the edge of his seat as the car swerves sharply to the left. He carefully and meticulously loads each bullet into his magazine as the radio host cracks jokes over the channel. The dry humor irritated him to no end, as if the man on the other side was making fun of him and his awkward attempt to fumble the rounds into place.

“His body was found today on the border between the Suburbs and Inner-City District,” the host continues, this time switching his tone to a somber atmosphere, “this marks the third death in a string of violence that have plagued the city for months. With the increase of crime in Metrocity, Magistrate Judi has decreed marshal law shall remain in effect.”

“Condolences go out to Mr. Link’s family,” The host continues. Cairo accidently drops a cartridge onto the car floor. “With the West Garden Region under police scrutiny, it’s only a matter of time before officials capture these murderers.”

“How’s Avery doing?” Cairo asks as he snaps the pistol magazine into his firearm.

“She’s getting better,” Lance says, “Still hates your guts though.”

Cairo faintly smiles.

“Lance,” Cairo begins, “I appreciate you coming with me.”

Lance just simply grunts before stepping on the gas even harder.

A sharp click chimes in the backseat as Marcel slams the bolt of his rifle into place.

“No problem,” he softly and suddenly chirps, “We’re always here for you.”

Snap, Snap.

“Shut up Marcel,” Cairo snaps back.

Cairo peeks at the rearview mirror to witness his redheaded friend flipping him off. The round face of Marcel’s gives the man an almost innocent demeanor. It was even more frightening considering Marcel’s personality. The years of calloused experience contrasted with his baby-face appearance that any unlucky victim would soon regret for unsuspecting. It was even enough to fool all except those who were close and could distinguish the minimalistic of emotions underneath those pale orange eyes of his.

“So,” Marcel asks, “Who are we looking for?”

“Three guys that bought from me at the party,” Cairo answers, recounting the events that led up to Ricky’s arrest. Ricky, in a fit of drug infused rage, had repeatedly struck Samantha despite her cries for restraint and Cairo’s half-hearted attempt at stopping him. While he had reluctantly allowed Ricky to continue his actions, Cairo nevertheless noticed three individuals observing the commotion with great interest. One of them was even on the phone. Ironic too that they were the same people he had to personally serve at the party.

“Next morning cops show up and arrest Ricky,” Cairo continues, “I know Sam didn’t make the call so who else would it be? I can never forgive someone who hurts a close friend of mine.”

“We’re all family. We might make new friends in the future but there will only be the few of us. We have to look out for each other because no one else will.”

Marcel, with his permanent smile, leans up to Cairo’s seat and pumps the chair in consolation.

“We know,” he says with his characteristic faint voice, “Honestly man, sometimes you get too emotional for your own good.”

Cairo ignores the tease and looks out the window. He leans against his arm as they race through the city looking for their suspects. Cairo was in no mood for jokes. Everything rested on the small chance that they found these three-specific people. While there were other options, these three Cairo have met personally and therefore offered the best possibilities towards his plan. As they race through the forests of towering grey colored commercial buildings, Cairo couldn’t help but feel insecure. The best years of their lives were over and he knew it. Now, to save what was left he had to undergo something both incredibly ambitious and dangerous. Cairo thought he had the stomach for it. Now, however, as his skull rattles gently against the vibrations of the car, he was having doubts.

Lance slows the car down at a red light. Cairo takes a look at the pedestrians carelessly strolling down the road. He could make out each of their individual expressions. The happy teenagers, ecstatic to be on their way to the shopping districts, the frowning mothers upset that their children were throwing tantrums, and the men in well-tailored suits talking animatedly into their state-of-the-art smartphones. It was strange seeing people go about their daily lives without the same worries that Cairo himself has. He guesses that a person outlook on life just changes whenever a murder was in the works.

Cairo rolls his eyes back out to his side of the window… and sees an orange sedan roll up right next to them.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. It seemed almost coincidental that the three “stooges” they were looking for just happened to drive up next to them. Granted, Cairo did know before specifically that the victims were going to be in the immediate vicinity, yet it was a stroke of luck that they happened to upon them in just six hours in of searching.

“Get them,” Cairo growls.

Marcel, already looking down the sights of his gun, squeezes the trigger.