by GoozX
The black Ferrari glided down the busy streets, every eye turning in amazement at the beautiful car.
"So much for staying out of sight."
Edulcore Cicciotto's comment was met with a smile from Turner, who said, "Trust me, no one will see us." Ed laughed at his point, and the two continued forward. But where to? So many casinos.
"Let's go there!" Ed just blurted out, pointing to a casino named Li'l Italy.
"You sure?" Turner asked, only to be responded by a simple head nod by the Italian fugitive.
The black Ferrari pulled to a stop in front of the casino, and both men stepped out from the car, each looking like a million dollars. Putting on his sunglasses, Turner turned to Ed. "Time for the big score."
Ed only responded with a head tilt as he put on his shades. Stepping in an even pace, the two men walked into the casino. Lights flashed in a fury all around. People were crazed, hoping for the American dream in one night spent dollar after dollar, not even realizing that they were really losing their dream as they played. Ed and Turner walked through the casino. People parted the seas as they passed. They stopped at the roulette tables.
With a smile, Turner took out a thousand-dollar chip and placed it on the table. Number three.
"All bets," the man behind the counter announced before finally beginning. And the little ball rolled around the device, bouncing and moving without grace. No one knew the true secret that the house always wins unless you had connections. Turner formerly was a connection. He knew everything that was going on in his country. Finally, this knowledge was coming into use.
An invisible surge of energy shot from Turner's right eye, unseen to all but taking over the electronically controlled roulette. With a newfound grace, the ball stopped in the shot for three. The man behind the counter was shocked and scratched his head. After a brief pause, he finally yelled, "Winner," before adding a huge sum of money in chips to Turner's single thousand-dollar chip. Turner piled the clips and placed them all on the number nine.
The man behind the counter squinted his eyes before yelling once again, "All bets." Unseen to the public, he punched the number twenty-two on a pad under the counter, and the game began once again.
Turner smiled as the ball stopped on number nine. The man was forced to once again announce "Winner" to his shock and fear. This occurred once more, this time with the number twenty. Turner split the huge pile of chips amassing into two, handing one pile to Ed and leaving the other on the table.
"Cash out," he told Ed, and he turned back to the table. The man behind the counter began to sweat.
Ed smiled as he made his way toward the booth to cash out. Upon handing the chips in, he received just over two million dollars. He smiled and paused, letting everything sink in.
Getting back to the table, he saw that Turner's pile was three times the size it was. The man behind the counter was sweating furiously as he announced, "Table closed!" His underarms showed just how nervous he was.
Turner began filling his pockets as Ed returned. "Table closed?" he asked in a joking manner as he stared at the casino employee. The man behind the counter stared back at Turner.
"You're not going anywhere." These few words were followed by the echo of a gun clicking. "You're a cheater. I don't know how, but Mr. Tony is gonna be very upset."
Before Turner could even react, the man hit the ground hard, his nose broken by Ed's fist.
"Time to go?" Ed asked as Turner simply nodded his head and lifted the table onto its side, spilling thousand-dollar chips everywhere, causing a riot of people trying to catch the precious chips, thus blocking the two men's escape.
"We should have enough, no?" Turner asked Ed, who was at a loss for words.
The men exited the casino and sped off in their black Ferrari.
In the upper levels of the Li'l Italy casino, a man paced to and fro. He was not pleased, not pleased at all.
"I am not pleased," the large Italian man said to the skinny counter boy who nursed his broken nose. "I am not pleased at all."
"Sir... Mr. Tony... I didn't -- it was broken -- they jammed -- I--"
"Shut up." Mr. Tony stopped his pace and nodded to the large man in the corner of the room. The man, dressed in one of the finest Italian-made suits, stepped toward the smaller man, who knelt in fear. With no words, the large man shot him in the back of the head.
"No one beats the house," Mr. Tony stated. "I want those two men dead. I don't care how much it costs." He turned, directly facing the large man. "Bring me their heads."