City Streets

"Well," Vladimir corrected, "The whole United States are after me, the army, the navy, the nasa, the police, the mafia are after me too," Vladimir looked back at Alba. "I get caught a couple of times each month, but I always get out of the situation by some weird way. There was even once this time where I fell unconscious, in the middle of it, and then I woke up in a church. Weird, eh?"

Alba piered at him suspisciously. What the...
"So...," she said, "you're basically the hugest criminal the police have ever seen, so you''re in deep sh... euh... doodoo."
Jammy sat on one of the bar's high stools beside Vlad. His face was tence, his eyes unblinking and staring into space. This he did when he was thinking.
"But why did you come here?" he asked after having sat in tence silence for a few minutes..

Vladimir looked at Jammy, smiling. "Why did I come here?" he repeated, then he thought a bit. "Because, I don't really have a fixed location to rest in, and never will, for that matter, as the police, the mafia, et caetera, would find me out, so, I guessed this place would be the most favorable, because the police only come in these places when they hear total and utter chaos, if I'm not mistaken."
Vladimir's brown hair fell slightly forwards, and he brushed it back, along with two strips of hair in his vision. "I've been accused for crimes I haven't done... Ah, politics," Vladimir said, with a laugh, "Got accused for a plane crash, the flooding of a city, and even the murder of a president." Vladimir lifted his eyebrows. "I don't know who did those things, but I know it's not me."
At least, I hope so...

Alba chuckled at Vlad's irony, relaxing slightly. She glanced over at Jammy, wondering what he was going to do.
Jammy scratched the back of his head, running his fingers through his pink and blond hair. He sighed, looking Vlad straight in the eyes. What do I do?
"You can stay with us if you want," he finally said, "Just as long as the police don't get involved."
Jammy saw Alba giving him a questioning look. Is this wise? it said, Should we really take this guy on?
Jammy smiled at her reasuringly and turned back to Vlad.

Vladimir laughed to himself when Jammy said that. He scratched the back of his head nervously. He looked around with an anxious face, and then turned back to Jammy. "Heh, thanks," he began, "But that probably means that I'll have to go soon. Whenever I'm somewhere, you see, the police or else someone else finds out that I'm here, and then they come after me for the prize of 50, 000, 000 US dollars on my head." He then widened his eyes, and looked at Jammy and Alba. He put a hand over his mouth. "I shouldn't of said that," he managed to squeak.

"Why not?" asked Alba, "It's not like we're gonna turn you in. Yeah, ok I could do with more money, but I'm not gonna go telling the police you're here if they're gonna kill you or something."
Jammy nodded, agreeing with Alba. He twiddled the stud between his thumb and index finger as "The Shock of the Lightning" by Oasis started playing.

Vladimir's hand dropped from his mouth to the side of his leg. He then straightened, and patted his cloak. He closed his eyes, and smiled, flicking one strand of brown hair away. "Heh," he began, looking up at Jammy and Alba, "Thanks." He looked around, then coughed discreetly. "Now... I guess you know why I carry that object," he said, pointing to the side of his cloak, where the gun had been seen.

Jammy smiled, then said:
"Just as long as you don't use it on either of us, I don't mind it much."
He winked at Alba, then slid off his chair and gathered the empty glasses from the couner. Alba took this oportunity to talk to Vlad.
"So," she started hesitantly, "Euh... want another drink?"
She laughed, her green eyes sparkling.
"Only joking," she added quickly, "We don't want that to happen again."

Vladimir smiled at Alba. He closed his glimmering blue eyes. "I can't really stand alcohol," Vladimir admitted, "I don't even know why I asked it before. One glass, and I immediately get drunk. Ah heheheh... Heh," Vladimir replied, laughing casually to himself. He took his cloak, and slid it over the gun a little bit more, then he sat again. "I'm not really worried about the police, the mafia 'n all," Vladimir said, drawing circles on the table with one finger, "Because, somehow, it seems that some guardian angel up there is always protecting me. I mean..." Vladimir stopped, then hesitated. "Yeah."

Alba smiled, and said:
"I like that idea. The thought of having a guardian angel watching over you."
She hesitated, then said with a grin:
"Hopefully they'd be the same gender as you because I wouldn't want a male guardian angel while in the shower."
She laughed, sighing at her crazy stupidity. Jammy went over to the purple I-pod nano wired up to the speakers and changed the song to "Here Come the Girls" by the Sugarbabes, a band he loathed but who had managed at least one good song. He walked back over to the bar, looking at his watch.
9 o'clock, he thought, Where are the customers?

"Errr... Yeah that would be freaky," Vladimir agreed, with a slight grin. "But, then again," he continued, looking up at Alba, "I don't think angels care about that." Vladimir laughed quietly to himself, then looked at Jammy, sensing his thoughts. Vladimir lifted his eyebrows, to open his eyes wide. "What's wrong?" he asked, noting Jammy's action of glancing at his watch.

"Oh, nothing," said Jammy who hadn't noticed Vlad had been watching him, "I was just wondering where the customers were. It's 9o'clock and the usuals should have arrived by now."
Alba nodded.
"Yeah, the pub seems pretty empty without Doody, Steve and Popster," she said, thinking of the wacky friends she had made while working in The Octopus.

Vladimir smiled at Alba. I won't ask where she got those names, but they're nice... He then thought about something. He looked out the building, then went back in, stressed. He took a chair, put it in front of him, and did the same for three other chairs. He crouched behind the chairs, peering out the side of the chairs. Nothing moved in the darkness. But he knew what he had seen. He put his hands on his head, puffing his brown hair. Sweat drops appeared on his forehead, out of pure anxiety.

Alba and Jammy watched him in disbelief.
What's he doing? Alba asked herself as she through Jammy a questionning glace. He shrugged at her and stepped forwards.
"Euh..." he started hesitantly, "What are you doing?"
He suddenly stopped, his head twisting towards the door as if he had sensed something outside The Octopus.
"What's the matter?" asked Alba placing a hand on the punk's shoulder, a frightened look in her green eyes.

Vladimir looked up at the female, with a frightened stare.
"Da... P... P..." He stuttered. "The police," he finished, calmly, "Is outside this building." He peeped over the table, then shrank back under. Seeing that the table was circular, he pushed it sideways, rolling it to a different spot. He then let the table stable, and he ducked behind it. His hand crept for his weapon.
"Just..." He began, searching for his words, "Just try to stay out of the way, all right? Hide behind this building, or something. Not that bullets will fly, I mean, it's just that if they see you, they'll probably think you're on my side."

Alba was about to say something, but Jammy grabbed her and bundled her through the back door. She didn't have time to protest because he placed his hand over her lips to stop her from speaking. Helpless, she followed him out to the place where they kept the bins, where he finally removed his hand from her face.
"What the..." started Alba, but Jammy placed one finger on her lips to silence her. Usually, she would have found this sexy, but his face was grave as he whispered:
"Be quiet, the police are outside!"
Alba took a deep breath to calm herself, then asked:
"How do you know? I didn't see anyone."
She didn't need to think about that for long. Jammy must have heard them. She had only just found out a few days that the punk's senses were advanced and still hadn't registered it all.
"But we can't just leave him in there," she whispered.
"He looked like he could take care of himself," replies Jammy as loudly as he dared, "Let's just hope they don't trash my pub."

Vladimir turned back to the entrance as Jammy and Alba exited the scene. He peered over the edge of the table, looking into the depths of the darkness. His heart jumped as he heard a loud voice pierce the silence.
"Cursed Gunman!" A man yelled, "You're surrounded; get out of there!"
"I'm not cursed!" Vladimir retorted, "Learn to be polite!"
"If you don't cooperate in ten seconds," the voice boomed, "We'll have to open fire!"
Vladimir couldn't let them do that. Or else he would have even more debts to pay for carnage. He peered once more around the table. He didn't really know what to say.
"Fine," he answered, "I'll go." Vladimir stood up, using his hand to push himself off the ground. "But while I'm at it..." He continued, "Can I just get a drink, or something?" The police didn't answer. Vladimir took that as a yes. He walked over to the shelf, looking through the diverse liquids that Jammy sold. He took one called 'Tequila'. He opened, it and sniffed it deeply. He quickly jerked his head backwards, offended by the smell. He reached into his pocket, and took out a bill of twenty euros, not really caring what the drink cost. He pulled the table back up to its feet, and he took a chair, with the bottle. He put a glass on the table, and he poured himself a glass. Knowing that he was about to get caught once more, why not get some pleasure before that? He turned into the darkness again.
"Well?" He asked, "Aren't you coming? It's boring to drink alone, y'know." Vladimir put his gun back into his cloak, and held the glass above the table with two fingers. The liquid sloshed around in the glass, shining as the light hit it. "We've got all the glasses here," Vladimir added.

Jammy and Alba tensed as they heard Vlad's muffled voice from withing the bar as he spoke with the police officer.
"What's he gonna do?" whispered Alba gingerly, pressing herself even harder against the wall beside the door.
"I don't know," replied Jammy in an equal whisper.
The smell of the bins was starting to get to them now, but they knew that they couldn't move from the back yard, the only escape being to climb over the wall. Jammy groped in the dark for Alba's hand. When he finally found it, he squeezed it reasuringly, sensing that she was scared.

Three policemen came in, glancing in different directions to try and find out if this was a plot f some sort. They saw Vladimir, and looked at him with wide eyes. He lifted his glass, and his eyebrows.
"So?" He asked enquiringly. The policemen looked at each other, and came over to the table, emotionless. "Good," Vladimir said, taking three glasses from the shelf, and putting them on the table. He poured equal amounts of tequila into the glasses. Seeing that the policemen didn't react, he insisted.
"Well?"
One eyed the glass suspiciously, then took it firmly in his hand. He tipped it over to his mouth, and he then swallowed a small amount of tequila. He then put the glass back. His breathing was like a strangle.
"Yeah, you gotta get used to it first," Vladimir admitted. "Just one question," Vladimir continued, "Am I that famous over the world?"
"Er, yeah," one policeman admitted.
"If I am that famous, there must be a lot of people out there, no?" Vladimir asked.
"Not... Especially..." One policeman said, looking at the other. Vladimir lifted his eyebrows. They must be tired, and not very wide awake, by this time of the night. He took the glass of tequila, gulped, and chugged it down. He slammed the glass down onto the table, with strength. He gasped for air.
"Daaahhhmmm..." Vladimir muttered, not being able to breathe, "Thiihsss is... STRONGAH." The three policemen nodded all together.

Alba jumped as she heard the sound of the glass hitting the coulter. Jammy's thumb stroked her hand to calm her as he took a deep breath.
"What are we gonna do?" asked Alba in a hoarse whisper.

The three policemen got to their feet, putting the chairs back into place.
"Now, sir," one said, "You must go with us." One policeman put his hand on Vladimir's shoulder, but he shook it off.
"Blleeeaah..." Vladimir answered, twisting on his seat, "Don't wanna."

Jammy and Alba hid behind the back door, listening in on the men's conversation. At Vlad's words, the pair knew at once that he was drunk again.
Men! thought Alba, always wanting to show off! ((lol))

--So true...--

The three policemen looked at each other, the looked back at Vladimir. "Come on now, sir, come with us," one said to Vladimir, grabbing his arm. Vladimir shook it off quickly.
"I said don't wanna," Vladimir muttered through almost closed lips, looking at the light above, "Prrrty..."

"Jesus Crist," muttered Alba, still clinging onto Jammy's hand, "What's he gonna do now? What are we gonna do now?"
Jammy gave her hand a wee squeeze, then whispered:
"No clue..."

"Sir," one policeman said, sternly, "We'll have to force you to cooperate. Get him, lads." The three policemen took Vladimir by the shoulders. Vladimir slumped, and fell onto the ground, the policemen's grip letting go. He sprawled himself onto the ground, aching his head.
"Awww, damn," Vladimir muttered, "That hurt... Watch out, will ya?"