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Living it for the Plot
Chapter 35: Tax Fraud Aftermath

Chapter 35: Tax Fraud Aftermath

Five days later…

Heavy wheels rolled over the road towards their target. The men and few women who sat inside the vehicle simply stared forwards, their minds sharpened in incredible focus. This was another day on the job for them.

The armored truck slowed to a halt and all of the SWAT team’s radio pieces crackled to life.

“Secure the building and find where all the documents are. You can be sure whoever’s in charge will start destroying evidence as soon as they hear you, so detaining everyone is your first priority.”

The armored police force nodded in unison.

“Move out!”

The back door of the armored truck was kicked open and the men and women of the Atlantic City Police, along with a special guest, stormed out and into the humble restaurant.

The guest, a man in his forties, held up a paper and shouted at the top of his lungs. “FBI! We have a warrant, on the ground!”

Vicci’s Trattoria, on account of it being a money laundering front, had very few actual customers inside. They would’ve begun to scream or possibly even run around at the sight of so many guns pointed their way. Those that did occupy the restaurant’s tables slowly lowered themselves to the ground, with scowls or looks of resignation.

A large squad stayed back to secure the room while the rest of the armored officers split up and continued into the back rooms and kitchen. The latter was cleared just as fast, save for a few angry chefs screaming about how their food would burn as they were tackled to the floor.

The forces who entered the back door, however, were met with a different sight. They saw nobody. The only sound that could be heard was that of a faint humming coming from one of the rooms, and an occasional grinding that accompanied it.

“Oh god dammit, that’s a paper shredder!” shouted one of the officers as they rushed over to the door. “This is the FBI, open up!”

No answer.

The armored man kicked at the door, but it didn’t budge, or even begin to buckle or crack under his steel-toed boot.

Well, most of the door anyway. A small bit of the wood on the front chipped away, and when the officer dug at it, they found a slab of solid metal underneath.

“Go figure, a steel door to hide their documents,” quipped another one of the officers as she carried over a metal battering ram.

“Go figure, a steel door,” sarcastically mumbled the first officer to himself while he took the heavy metal tube by its handles.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight,” the woman growled back.

The man rolled his eyes and began to pull the battering ram back, before slamming it into the door.

A dull thud echoed out through the restaurant, followed by another one as the ram was quickly shoved back into the steel. And another, and another.

“Thank god I got that thing installed,” came a voice from inside the room. “I should have all day to take care of business now!”

A crack began to form on the wall beside the door. With each and every slam of the battering ram, the crack only grew larger. Soon enough, it surrounded the entire door frame. With one final bash, the wall holding the door by its hinges collapsed and fell forward with a large clang.

“Don’t worry, we have all day to book you at the station!” exclaimed the police officer, as his armored co-workers swarmed the room with guns drawn.

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“Excuse me, but the back is for employees only,” said a woman dressed in the bank’s uniform.

“Police, we have a warrant,” replied the officer as they flashed their badge and a signed sheet of paper.

“O-oh! Please, go on through, then!” exclaimed the woman with a wide smile as she stepped aside.

The officers walked on through, with their hands on their holsters.

The woman simply walked back to her place, her grin still on her face.

“Hey!” whispered one of the tellers beside her. “The boss told us to warn her if the police come snooping!”

“Yeah, I know.”

The two continued to stand there, worry on one’s face and glee on the other’s. Half a minute later, they heard shouting coming from the back.

“Police, put your hands up!”

Bang

Bang

“Target down, but we’ve got a casualty! Requesting an ambulance!”

“Oh my god, what’s going on in there?!” asked the worried attendant, doing her best to keep her voice constrained to a hoarse whisper. It didn’t hide her fear.

“I don’t know, but I bet our union just gained a lot of bargaining power!”

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Similar scenes occurred around town at various places of business. A few lone grunts even got arrested on the way to their jobs, including one particularly nasty man headed towards Karling apartments.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Many members of this secret mafia were being detained and brought into questioning, all led by a single man, who was going after the most important member of the organization by far. He was committed to bringing them down, no matter what.

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“I’m vewy sowwy and vewy sad about this, can you pwease help me?”

Agent Hank Crimshaw sat across from an incredibly beautiful woman. She wore a crimson dress that parted heavily at the side, and revealed way too much cleavage to be considered appropriate to show in public, even for this world.

Hank had gone toe to toe with women, and even some men, who knew how to flaunt their bodies and wield it like a weapon. But they had all been subtle, careful not to reveal their cards too soon. Yet the woman in front of him was throwing around her sex appeal like an animal in heat! Did she really expect someone as high-ranking as Agent Hank Crimshaw of the FBI to fall for a display so obvious?

“Um, uh… well,” the agent began. He swore under his breath as the woman’s pupils dilated further than humanly possible. At least, that was what he thought he saw. ”I suppose there might be a bit of a misunderstanding from the higher ups. Maybe we could talk this through… over dinner?”

A bright smile grew on the woman’s lips. She parted them to reveal a row of pearl-white teeth as she let out a heartwarming laugh. “Of course, I would love to talk things through. Meet me at Enzo’s, just across the street? Tonight at eight?”

“I-I’d love to!”

Agent Hank Crimshaw turned around and made his way out of the casino. He would be lying if he said he was immune to feminine wiles, but he was always picky with who he chose to bed, they had to make it worth his while if he was going to risk his job for them! And this woman in particular… she would be worth more than every other one combined. He felt it in his loins.

As he exited the building, he waved at the collected FBI and armored police officers waiting at the entrance. “We’re calling off the raid! We’ve got what we wanted!”

A few of the officers shifted, but the federal agent mostly placated them with a few gestures and vague explanations. Politics were much too common in high level investigations, and raids like these would periodically get canceled if the higher ups could get some kind of leverage somewhere else in the investigation by doing so. At least, most of the time. The officers present all hoped that was the case here.

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“Cheers,” the woman said with a languid smile, as she lifted a flute of champagne.

Agent Hank Crimshaw, dressed in a fine suit, lifted his own glass and clinked it against hers. “You know, being able to clear out an entire restaurant for our date doesn’t really do you any favors in clearing your innocence. You really expect me to believe you’re just a humble businesswoman?”

The two sat at the back of Enzo’s, an Italian restaurant that required connections to even get a reservation… a month out. The entire building was deserted, save for the two diners and the kitchen and wait staff.

“But Agent Crimshaw,” began the woman with a pout. She wore the same red dress as earlier that day, but with visibly less underneath it.

“Please, call me Hank.” The agent put on his swavest smile, which looked like it would be more at home on a bulldog’s face.

“But Hank, I’m just trying my best to be a good hostess. Won’t you please give me a chance?”

“That’s what this dinner date is, my dear!” He gave a wink. “But I was able to get a good look at the evidence we collected, and it really doesn’t look good for you.”

“Really? How so?” She let out a small gasp as she held her hand to her mouth.

Agent Crimshaw swore in his mind. He knew she was just mocking him at this point with her gestures, but he couldn’t help but take the bait, it was as if he was compelled to lap up her poison.

The man took a sip of his drink before responding. “We’ve got plenty of your people in custody and ready to testify, along with plenty of documents we seized at Vicci’s trattoria. All locked up tight at our office in Newark!” He let out a little chuckle.

“Oh, I see. But why are you helping little old me out like this? You could get into trouble with your boss!” the woman said with blatantly fake astonishment.

“Eh, we’ve got sort of an unofficial ‘budget’ for this kind of thing,” the man shrugged. “And if they want to make a big deal about what I’m doing, I’ve got enough dirt on them to do the same. Besides, they would’ve tried to get with a beauty like you if I actually brought you in.”

“Wow, so brave!” The woman let out another laugh, but the languidness in her voice quickly dried up as it turned to a sharp mirth. “And so foolish, just like everyone else.”

“Now that was just rude! How do you expect me to help you out if you treat me like this?”

“You already have helped me! I know where you have my people and the evidence, so I’m going to go and take it now.”

“From the FBI building?” the agent wheezed. “You’re just a small-time mobster, what are you going to do?”

“For starters, this.”

“This wha-” Hank’s throat began to close and caught the word before it could leave his mouth. “What did you do?!” he managed to whimper.

“Seriously, what kind of people are running this circus?” Whatever sultry effect she had in her voice had entirely evaporated, replaced with harsh annoyance. “I poisoned you, dumbass!”

The man dropped his glass, and it shattered as soon as it hit the lightly carpeted floor. He tried to speak, but not a single sound left his lips. It didn’t take long before he joined the champagne flute on the floor as life left his body.

“Hey, at least I made sure the poison would kill you before you suffocated, consider that my small mercy of the day.” The woman clapped twice. “Get in here, assholes!”

Several hulking men, dressed in gray suits with purple ties, came into the room from the kitchen entrance and nodded. “What do you need, Donna Victoria?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, pointing at the dead body. “Dispose of our little FBI agent here, and make sure nobody finds it.”

“Yes ma’am!” the three of them cried out before picking up the corpse. One of them turned back towards his boss and let curiosity get the best of him. “Uh, FBI agent? Was killing him really a good idea?”

“I’ve got some friends on high who can divert any heat that comes my way. They’ll need to if they want me to deliver on my end of our bargain and not ‘accidentally’ blab to the feds about their plans.”

The brute was smart enough not to question further, he knew when he was wandering into dangerous territory. The three henchmen picked up the body and began to carry it out of the restaurant through the back. Several screams erupted from the kitchen as they walked through it, and Victoria sighed to herself. She wasn’t worried about them, a quick pep talk and some money would make them forget what they saw.

“My wardens are getting too predictable,” she said with tired eyes. “If they wanted to make me suffer, they would have someone competent leading the show.”

She looked at a little notebook left behind by the now dead agent and began to rummage through it.

“But what exactly happened there?” Victoria mumbled to herself as she poked at a bolded and circled name: Vicci’s Trattoria, with last week’s date. “The two in charge of the books ran away before I realized what happened there, and I somehow doubt that they actually betrayed me. No, somebody else has to be responsible for this.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes, regretting being too paranoid to install security cameras in the numbers room.

“But whoever tipped the feds off and leaked all of those documents is more than competent, and it isn’t someone part of my organization.” Victoria quickly opened her eyes and flashed a grizzly smile. “So one of the demons in charge finally shows its face! I’ll finally get my revenge.”

Silence echoed throughout the restaurant, leaving the woman standing in the lone spotlight.

“Donna Victoria,” she repeated as she giggled to herself. “I’m not even Italian!”