[ WP ] You and your cohorts have pulled off your heist as planned . Later , in your hideout , you see TV reports that the payload you hijacked is lethally radioactive

`` It's freakin' beautiful, man. Look at all that green.'' Jobe laughed. 
 
 `` Yeah. It's sexy as hell. Wait. Fuck this.'' Blake chortled, stripping off his pants and shirt. 
 
 `` What in the Sam Hell are you doing, boy.'' Chris asked, stepping away from his team mate. 
 
 `` I was n't lying. It sexy as hell. I'm bout to fuck it.'' Blake replied, dumping the bags of cash out on the floor. The others laughed and blanched as Blake lived up to his word, his white naked ass rising and falling as he went through the motions of making love to the stolen cash. 
 
 `` Well, if the money was n't dirty before, it sure as hell is now.'' Jobe chuckled. `` Hey, make sure you do n't fuck my half.'' 
 
 Chris shook his head in disbelief and turned the radio off as the news showed pictures of the robbery. `` Turn it up.'' Chris said, taking a seat near the bar. Jobe did as he was told. 
 
 *... closed off East and West bound lanes of I-44, forcing long detours around the site of the robbery. Police have not issued a statement as of yet, other than to say that at this moment they have no statement to give. An officer who has asked not to be, has informed us that the FBI was heading up the investigation into the armed hijacking and robbery. The contents of the truck have yet to be identified, but early reports indicate that seven state troopers and the driver of the truck were killed during the execution of the theft. * 
 
 *For KT3, this is Sarah Walker. Good night. * 
 
 `` What the hell,'' Jobe smirked. Are they talking about the same robbery? We did n't kill no cops.'' Jobe muted the television, smirking. 
 
 `` We killed the driver though. In for a penny, in for a pound.'' Chris said. `` They'll stick a needle in our arm regardless.'' 
 
 `` If they find us,'' Blake laughed, `` but that do n't seem so likely.'' He gave one last hump and rolled to his feet, redressing. 
 
 `` What about the troopers?'' Jobe asked. `` Why they laying that on us?'' 
 
 Chris shrugged, retrieving the remote. He began flipping through the channels, searching for more reports on the robbery. 
 
 `` So, how long we got a wait this out?'' Jobe asked, wiping at his running nose. `` I got plans for my cut.'' 
 
 Chris shrugged. `` Six months, a year maybe. We'll need to get it laundered first and find some new identities.'' 
 
 `` That long?'' Jobe asked. 
 
 Blake nodded, grabbing a beer from the fridge. `` Yep. At least that long. You knew the payday was gon na be delayed, kid. Got to do it right, or learn to like the color orange.'' He said, referring to the jumpsuits inmates wear. He swigged his beer and belched. `` You got red on ya, kid.'' 
 
 Jobe wiped his nose again and looked at the blood. `` Dammit.'' He said, hurrying over to the sink to clean himself. 
 
 `` Wan na beer,'' Blake asked, finishing his drink. 
 
 `` Sure. Grab me two. I'm thirst -- What the fuck.'' Chris exclaimed, taking the tv off mute. 
 
 `` What's up?'' Blake and Jobe asked together, hurrying over to Chris's side. 
 
 `` They're wearing hazmat suits.'' Chris replied, reading the ticker along the bottom of the screen. 
 
 `` What for?'' Blake asked. 
 
 `` Do n't know. Might have been some chemicals on the truck we did n't know about.'' Chris guessed. 
 
 `` Maybe that killed the Troopers.'' Jobe theorized. 
 
 `` Perhaps,'' Chris said, listening to the reporters over analyzation of the hijacking. 
 
 `` You got red on you too,'' Jobe told Blake even as he dabbed at his own nose. 
 
 `` Dammit.'' Blake said, echoing Jobe's earlier exclamaition. He rubbed at his nose with his sleeve, leaving a smear of blood down his right arm. 
 
 `` Radiation.'' Chris whispered. 
 
 `` What?'' Jobe asked. 
 
 `` Radiation. They're radiation suits.'' Chris repeated, swallowing hard. `` The money is radioactive.'' He explained. His hand shook as he raised the volume. 
 
 `` What do you mean it's radioactive? How?'' Jobe quavered staring at his hands. Blake raced out the door. They heard the shower start a moment later. 
 
 `` We're dead.'' Chris said, dabbing at his own nose. Jobe collapsed to the floor, still staring at his hands. `` What do we do, dad? What's going to happen to us?'' 
 
 Chris picked up his revolver and walked over to his son. `` I love you, boy.'' 
 
 `` Dad, what are we going to do? I'm scared.'' Jobe said, a quaver in his voice. 
 
 `` I know a guy,'' his dad said. `` He can fix this.'' He stood and circled around behind his son. `` He'll fix this for us.'' He said, reassuring his son, even as he pointed the gun at his sons head. `` I'm sorry.'' 
 
 `` For what?'' Jobe asked, turning his hands over to start at the red leisons forming on his skin. 
 
 `` For failing you.'' Chris replied, pulling the trigger. He was beyond tears in that moment. It had been his plan to hijack the cash shipment. He had recruited his son for the job. He had killed him. The gun had just been a mercy. He looked in the direction of the shower, and gave up on the idea of ending his partner. He could die fast or slow. He did n't care. It took him a moment to gather up his courage, but when he did, the revolver barked again and another body lay upon the floor. 
 
 
 
 

