Black Entertainment USA - Comic book storyline

Continued from page one...

First Woman: [probably a redhead, but possibly a blonde with streaked hair, in jeans that fit well and a blouse too compliment them yet not trashy. Young but with a few of the wrinkles found on a young person who's lived through difficult days. Not to uncommon these days around this place] Who are you… What do you want with me? [in a voice that trembles slightly, moreso with the last question rather than the first]

Second Woman: [older than the first, a brunette with a good bustline and figure, in a dress that shows them off without giving away too much. She figgits and wiggles a bit as she says as strongly as she can] Let me go! I don't have anything to do with this, or her. I'm supposed to be at a party. Please let me go…[her resolve whittling away with the last few words, as if she was confident things were going to jump into the fire from the frying pan she already knew she was in]

Steel: [thinking to himself] So they aren't together. And from their looks I say they were picked up at different places. These Jooks were probably trolling and we just lucked on hitting part of their flower picking route.
[out loud] Ok! Calm down. I said we won't hurt either of you. We'll get you both out of here and into downtown as soon as possible, but right now tell me, where were you when you got grabbed?

First Woman: I was walking down Benson street. I had just got off work at the music shop and heard tires screech and the next thing I knew I was in here. I got slapped a few times, hard, and then was tied up while 1 or 2 guys held me down. Can we GO now?!

Second Woman: I had just left a party with my … friend, Roger. We stopped at the corner of Baker and something, for the light. Roger was lighting a cigarette when I heard this loud backfire. Except it wasn't, it was a shot. He dropped and I started to scream. Then I got pulled into this van from behind. The other girl was already here, and they did the same to me.

Steel: I see. [to himself] Well the brunette does have blood on her, so that part seems right. And they both have a few bruises on their faces. Seems possible. And no weapons. Should be ok. [out loud] [looking up towards the open side door] You got all that? Eyes, what's the view?

POV – from behind looking down at a dark figure, who is looking down at the van. Eyes is sitting/leaning on the edge of the wall no higher than just below belt level, on the roof of a 3 story brownstone. Laying across his right arm is a short, stubby cylinder. The cylinder could almost look like a pole except for the obvious gunsite at one end and the strange molded butt of the stock of the weapon.

Eyes: [listening] Yeah, got it, we should go soon. They made too much noise. Probably more Jooks nearby. [the voice of Bug we heard earlier] Siren is right. We have got to move quick. [speaking] Nobody in sight though. Looks quiet enough. I'd figure 3-5 minutes before news of the noise reaches the Jooks and they have someone over here [Eyes stands up and looks around, scanning the streets and watching traffic] [listening] [voice of Steel]Alright, drop down and get the car. We'll get the ladies out and wait by the van. Siren, check out the bodies, and the driver that Eyes got. Grab the wallets, ids, you know the drill. We're gone in 5 men. Over.

Cut to: Morning. A bright day, thought there are a few clouds. Looking down from the sky at a city road filled with the regular morning traffic of a typical getting to work rush hour. [zoom in to a top down view of a sports car, moving moderately with the traffic] The driver is casually bopping to the sounds of a current techno hit with the top down, obviously caring more about the music than the slow pace of the cars around him. The driver is a fit, asian male, about 30 years of age. The real indication of his age are the few grey hairs found near his temples. Dressed in a blue suit, sharp but not custom-made, with a crisp white shirt and a paisley tie of matching blue and accents of red and an expensive mid-tier watch on his right hand. Also on his right hand an engagement ring, without any precious stones.

[zoom in to the passenger seat, looking at the driver]Thomas is seemingly oblivious to the few drivers who notice the loud music from his car speaker and are surprised by the well dressed man listening to it. Interrupting his moment of bliss, his cellphone rings. The sound doesn't catch his attention, rather after ringing for a few moments he notices the flashing light as he cuts off a cheap compact import, to the beat of the music. Thomas turns the music down and picks up the phone with his right hand.

Thomas: [Talking] Morning, Thomas. [listening] Well that's not a big problem. [listening] Listen to me, we knew that the Vandium Sulphuric Aluminoxate was unstable. The more important thing is that we are on to something. If we can use the Magnaferite as a stabilizer we should have remarkable results. That's what we will be working on when I get in. [listening] [slightly agitated] I know we had the explosion the last time, but we didn't expect it to be an exothermic reaction. This time we can be prepared and take the proper precautions. Listen to me, I'm in traffic and I'm not sure how good the encryption is on this cellphone so lets talk more when I get in the office. [listening] Ok, then meet me after lunch in my office. Bye.

Cut to: Morning. A bright day, thought there are a few clouds. Looking down from the sky at the same city road filled with the regular morning traffic of a typical getting to work rush hour. [zoom in to a top down view of a motorcycle weaving gently through the start and stop flow of cars] [zoom closer and behind as the motorcycle accelerate and cuts off the same cheap compact import as it makes a right hand turn from the middle lane of traffic down a one way avenue]

Guy in Car: [from inside the compact] Damn you! What is it today, everyone is bloody late for a date or something?!

[following the motorcycle as it leisurely passed buses and cars of various types. The avenue is lined on both sides by tall commercial buildings and a few skyscrapers. Department stores, mom and pop diners and fast food chains dot the avenue. Hordes of workers, some in suits some in more rugged work clothes or uniforms, mill across the sidewalks making their daily treks from home to their respective places of work.]

[The motorcycle stops for a light and edges past 2 cars to line up with the pedestrian walkway. The rider, Brad, sits up a bit straighter as he observes the people crossing in front of him. A lady, possibly the clone or genetic twin of Marilyn Monroe if such a thing were possible, dressed in a slightly shorter than professional business dress suit and heels just tipping over the customary 3 inches notices Brad.] POV – From behind the lady, at eye level of another pedestrian. [the lady tilts her head, winks and waves her hand, furthest from Brad, seductively as she slows her pace. Brad, in proper biker leathers, a snug leather jacket that matches quality, looks and function, half open to reveal a white t-shirt and fit chest of a man who works out occasionally because he likes to, continues to look around and double takes as his attention fixes. A man, tall even among the crowd, clean shaven except for the well trimmed mustache, manicured hands and with a muscular build that even the cut of the high-end custom black suit, custom shirt and black with white diamond pinpoint tie can not hide. Much to the disdain of the lady, who picks up her pace with a decidedly surprised/annoyed look upon her face, while the taxi driver next to Brad who had happily watched her slow down and now move on shakes his head.] [The taxi driver lowers his passenger side window and shouts over to Brad] I don't know what wrong with you, but that lady was worth calling in sick to work. They just don't make them like that anymore! [Brad tilts his head down, raising his mirror face visor to reveal a possibly well tanned young man, with bright green eyes and clean shaven face.] Now matter how they make her, that guy was worth a weeks' vacation. But to each his own, mom used to say. [With a wave like a salute Brad closes his visor turns and drives off as the light changes.>

To be continued...

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