Archive of Our Own ^beta

„No,“ Geoff said, loudly and vehemently.

“Absolutely no!” he then repeated for good measure.

“It's not even that big,” Michael argued, outright ignoring his fierce objections.

Geoff felt a headache coming on, the type of headache he had gotten way too familiar with in the years he had spent running a criminal gang.

“You are not going to bring an air-to-surface missile here!”

“Technically it's an air-to-ground missile-”

“Technically it's a fucking bomb you want to steal and then keep in my goddamn apartment! We have warehouses for this kind of bullshit! I am paying actual rent for those fucking warehouses!”

“Are you done?” Michael asked and Geoff longed for the days when he was shown at least a little bit of respect by his employees. Those days had likely never existed but a man could dream, he thought bitterly.

“Yes, I am done and you are not bringing any missiles into my apartment! Not even for a few hours! I like it the way it is right now, not exploding or on fire!”

He reached for his cup of coffee, deciding that nine in the morning was too early to deal with this type of shit without a whole more caffeine.

“Besides,” he then said after taking a sip. “The cops are cracking down and our usual seller has gone to visit some relatives until the heat is off. So we wouldn't even be able to fence them if you brought them here.”

Michael's expression changed, a hint of guilt appearing on his face.

“So nobody can come and pick them up?” he said.

Geoff stared at him suspicious.

“What did you do?” he asked, trying to stay calm.

Michael shifted a bit on his feet and that was a bad sign. Michael didn't get nervous unless he really messed up.

“What. Did. You. Do?!”

Michael raised his hands in a placating gesture

“Well, I didn't bring an air-to-ground missile into your apartment,” he said.

Geoff just silently stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“It's three air-to-ground missiles.”

The headache turned into a full blown migraine, the type that could only be remedied by murdering one of his employees.

“Why?!” Geoff hissed through clenched teeth. “How?!”

A terrible thought suddenly occurred to him.

“Please tell me that Gavin didn't help.” He had the sudden horrifying image of Gavin carrying a missile. Several of them. From the garage to the elevator and then into his apartment. There weren't many rules Geoff enforced but not allowing Gavin to handle their explosives was a major one.

“Jack helped,” Michael said, not quite meeting Geoff's eyes.

“Jack isn't stupid enough to pull something like this!”

She absolutely was stupid enough to pull something like this but her own apartment was just across from Geoff's and she loved her stuff too much to risked blowing it up. At least he hoped so.

“Where are the missiles now?” Part of Geoff avoided looking around his kitchen/living room too much because if he had somehow missed three air-to-ground missiles right under his nose, time was night for him to retire.

“Guest room,” Michael mumbled.

Without another word Geoff marched towards his guest room. He stopped halfway. Really, did he actually want to see the tangible evidence of Michael's stupidity?

On the other hand though, the man had brought three fucking missiles into his apartment so for all Geoff knew they had stored them upside down and leaning against the wall.

So he opened the door to the guest room, stared at the insides for one long moment and then closed the door again, somewhat more carefully than he'd normally do.

“Michael,” Geoff then began. His voice was calm. The situation warranted that specific type of calmness that made people tense up and take note, in much the same way Michael was doing right now. The specific kind of calm that foretold that soon loud screaming would follow it.

“Yeah?” Michael answered slowly, looking cautious and probably fully aware of what was about to happen.

“Why did you put them on the bed? And why the fuck did you put the blankets over them?!”

Geoff hadn't been close enough to see if the missiles had been put on the pillows but the fact that they were lying in the bed with the blankets covering them was already bad enough. For one very surreal moment Geoff thought that he should keep his voice down, just in case he'd wake them up.

He needed more coffee, Geoff thought. Strike that, he needed to go back to bed, his own bed without any missiles in it, pull the blanket over his head and pretend this entire thing had never happened. Though he would not be able to get a wink of sleep considering there were three missiles two doors away.

“Why?! Why the absolute fuck would you do this?!”

For once in his life Michael had the decency to look slightly abashed.

“You remember when we accidentally blew up your new car last month?”

“You,” Geoff corrected. “I remember you blowing up my car and I remember it being less of an accident and more you not knowing where to aim that fucking grenade launcher.”

Michael just shrugged, regaining part of his confidence the way he usually did when he was reminded of the trail of chaos and property damage he had left in his wake.

“Anyway, you bitched a lot about the car and I thought, hey, if we steal the missiles and sell them you can buy yourself a new one. One with a better paint job this time maybe.”

Geoff stared at Michael, suddenly at a loss for words. That was … well, to be honest it was surprisingly touching. Not that he'd ever say that out aloud.

But still...

He might have whined a bit more than usual about the car because it had been brand-new. Well, the guy he had stolen it from had just bought it so technically it was second-hand but since that guy didn’t have time to drive it even once before Geoff had gotten his fingers on it, he considered it to be brand-new.
 
But he hadn't thought anybody had actually listened to his complaints about losing the car, least of all Michael who had been responsible for the fiery wreck his car had become.

Geoff let out a deep sigh, closed his eyes for a moment and mentally went through a list of people who'd both pay good money to get their hands on some missiles and wouldn't immediately use them against the Fakes.

He opened his eyes again and stared at Michael who was silently watching him, a hint of insecurity hidden underneath the usual mask of anger issues.

“You keep an eye on those missiles,” Geoff then ordered. “And I will call around to see who can pick them up.”

Michael nodded and dropped himself on the couch, positioned in a way that allowed him to stare at the guest room.

Geoff reached for his phone.

“And never fucking do something like this again!” he barked out before dialing a number. From the way Michael grinned, the silent “you're forgiven for bringing missiles into my apartment” had reached the recipient.

“Make sure you get a good deal so I can buy some more grenades from the leftover money,” Michael said.

Geoff just rolled his eyes and got to work

It took some time to find a buyer for three air-to-ground missiles but Geoff was amazing and Geoff was great and Geoff had gotten a phone call after he had been close to giving up from some German arms dealer they had met four years ago who said he heard through contacts that they were looking to get rid of some missiles.

By afternoon the missiles were being loaded into a truck, carefully cushioned by several blankets and under Geoff's strict supervision. Rather Geoff ensured that Gavin stayed as far away from the missiles as possible.

Jack got into the driver side and Geoff joined her. For a moment he wondered if he should ask just how involved she had been with this entire thing. She sure had taken the fact that there were three missiles in his guest room rather calmly. But he really didn't want to think that more than one member of his crew would be so stupid as to bring missile to his apartment so he decided to let the matter rest.

Also he really wanted Jack to concentrate on the road.

“Fuck,” he yelled when they hit another pot hole. “You wanna blow us up?!”

“Relax,” Jack said, sounding as if there were on a Sunday getaway and not about to sell ranged weapons to some shady European.

“They can't just explode like that.”

Geoff really hoped she was right about this. He had instructed Ryan and Jeremy to not drive too close behind them and had made Michael and Gavin stay behind. If they had to blow up, he didn't want them to all blow up at once.

Jack stepped on the gas, the car going from “somewhat over the speed limit” to “outrageously over the speed limit” and Geoff send a silent prayer to whichever god was still willing to listen to him and clang to the roof handles so tightly his knuckles were showing white.

He only let go of them half an hour later when the car came to a stop in front of a run-down airstrip next to an even more shabby looking building.

Jack frowned a bit when she took in the surroundings.

“How come we never met anywhere fancy,” she mumbled. “Like a mansion or a casino.”

“The last time we were in a casino we were robbing it,” Geoff reminded her patiently.

“Least we didn't have to be afraid of the roof collapsing there,” Jack said, kicking a piece of rotting wood away that was blocking the entrance to the building.

She had a point there, Geoff had to admit. He stepped around a pile of rubbish and followed Jack inside the building, suppressing a sneeze when the dusty air inside tickled his nose.

“Tell Ryan and Jeremy to keep close on stand-by,” he mumbled towards Jack.

There was something about this situation that didn't feel right. A deep guttural feeling of suspicion, finely tuned over years and years of having to survive.

“Ramsey,” an accented voice then interrupted his musings. Joachim Brauer stepped out of the shadows and nodded briefly at Geoff. He didn't spare a look at Jack which was something she had told Geoff she was more than used to but which still made Geoff angry every time it happened.

He bit down on the rude comment though. Brauer was a potential buyer after all. Geoff had been trying for years to install at least some basic manners in his crew when it came to talking to people who wanted to give them money for stuff. He had mostly failed, though frankly he probably wasn't a very good teacher anyway.

“You got the money?” Geoff asked Brauer. Brauer raised his phone and showed a website with an open bank transfer to one of their off-shore accounts.

“Just needs my password and it will go through,” Brauer said smoothly. It was a not so subtle warning to not think about killing him to keep both the money and the missiles. Geoff almost rolled his eyes. He was a professional. If he had wanted Brauer dead he'd have ways to get that password.

“You got the missiles?”

Geoff nodded, turning towards the car.

“I'll show you and then you can bring your car around.”

Brauer didn't move though. His face was completely emotionless, more a mask than an actual human face.

“It's fine, I believe you,” he said.

A bunch of alarm bells went off inside Geoff's head at once. Beside him he could see Jack tensing up, slowly letting her hand wander down to where she kept her gun.

“You sure you don't want to see them first?” Geoff asked, trying to aim for casual.

“It's okay,” Brauer said, moving his attention to his phone. He started typing something. It looked to be way too long for a password.

Geoff threw Jack a look out of the corner of his eyes. She gave no indication that she had noticed his look but her other hand went towards her phone, probably sending out the signal to Ryan and Jeremy.

“Absolutely sure you don't want to take a look?” Geoff said loudly, drawing Brauer's attention back to him. “Just to check you’re not actually buying firecrackers here?”

Brauer let out a laugh, immediately cutting himself of as his expressionless mask returned.

“I trust you, Ramsey. People know you and your work.”

There was an undertone of something Geoff couldn't quite put his finger on. He just knew he didn't like it.

“Can't say the same thing about you, Brauer. I would prefer if you took a look at the missiles.”

He hoped Ryan and Jeremy were close by. This increasingly looked like the kind of situation that would require firepower.

“You don't trust me, Ramsey?” If Brauer said the word trust one more time with that snide voice, Geoff would punch him.

“I don't have much of reason to, have I?” he said coolly. Brauer looked at him, an appraising yet still coldly distant look that made Geoff feel like an insect Brauer was preparing to step on.

Geoff returned the stare, folding his hands. You didn't survive as long as he had in this business by being intimidated by a little staring contest.

He won. Brauer broke the eye contact, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck this,” he mumbled and then he suddenly had a gun in his hand, aimed straight at Geoff.

Geoff quickly tried to reach for his own gun but a shot rang through the building.

For a moment Geoff froze, waiting for the pain to set in, for the blood to start dripping from a wound. But then Brauer let out a sound, a gurgling and wet noise, and he collapsed on the ground.

Next to him, Jack rolled her shoulders, her gun still pointed straight at the spot the arms dealer had stood mere seconds ago.

“Fuck,” Geoff said.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed.

And then they didn't say anything more because somebody started shooting. With a loud yell Geoff dropped to the floor, followed by Jack.   

Bullets were flying through the air, piercing the glass of the window and the thin wooden walls of the building.

Geoff snarled trying to keep his head low while reaching for his gun. Then the shooting stopped for a moment and Geoff quickly crawled over to a broken desk, taking cover behind. Jack followed him a moment later, peering over the desk with her gun raised.

“Fucking Brauer brought reinforcements,” she hissed.

“Well, so did we,” Geoff said. Outside the shooting started again, but this time nobody was shooting at the building.

The cavalry has arrived, Geoff thought. He nodded at Jack, who nodded back and then the both of them made a run for the door.

Outside was more chaos. A black car had appeared during the time they had been inside and shots were coming from it. Thankfully the shots weren’t aimed at them right now.

There was a small hill across the building. Geoff could make out Jeremy’s car on top of it, garish paint job glinting in the sun. He could also hear the shots being fired from the car.

One well-placed shot hit whoever was shooting from behind the driver wheel and he could see Ryan, wearing his skull mask, calmly peering down as he reloaded his rifle. Next to him Jeremy was grinning wildly as he kept shooting, giving Ryan enough cover to keep reloading.

Normally Geoff would have stayed and helped but while you shouldn’t bring a knife to a gun fight, you should also not bring air-to-ground missiles to a shootout.

Jack had already started moving towards the truck because when it came down to it she was operating on the same wavelength as Geoff, no further communication required.

Geoff just hoped that Jeremy and Ryan would provide enough cover for them to get away. He got into the car, holding the door half open so he could shoot as Jack started the truck.

The moment she stared driving the people in the black car turned their attention and their weapons towards them.

Geoff cursed loudly and started shooting back.

One shot pierced the side mirror, precariously close to hitting Geoff’s face and, even worse, precariously close to the missiles they had in the back of the truck.

“Those assholes really want to blow all of us to hell!” Geoff yelled at nobody in particular. He aimed for the car, shot and missed by a mile as Jack hit a pothole that very moment.

“Watch it!” he yelled.

“This road is the worst!” Jack yelled back.

Geoff aimed again, this time at least managing to hit the car though he wasn’t sure if he had also hit anybody inside of it.

Somebody was yelling something from inside the car and then the bullets stopped coming, at least those aimed at them.

At least one of those assholes trying to kill them was smart enough to not shot at a car with missiles inside, Geoff thought grimly.

The car was slowly getting smaller but Geoff still aimed at it one last time. A satisfied grin appeared on his face when he hit his target. Following them would be a rather impossible task with one shot tire.

Letting out a sigh he closed the car door, allowing his hands that had been tensed and steady during the shooting to finally relax, feeling them shaking slightly under the strain of having to hold the car door.

“Fucker tried to fuck us over,” he then said grimly.

Jack nodded.

“Thought he could get the missiles and keep the money,” Geoff continued. Now that they were somewhat save he could feel the anger spreading through him.

“Wanted to kill us.”

That couldn’t stand. If somebody tried to kill him or his crew they better made damn sure they succeeded. Otherwise they were as good as dead themselves.

“I’ll get Gavin to look up who Brauer was in contact with,” Jack interrupted his thoughts of vengeance.

“He sells weapons, he is not going to attempt a hit on somebody like you without a damn good reason,” she continued.

Geoff looked at her, slightly surprised.

“How are you-“ he began.

Without looking away Jack pulled something out of her pocket and threw it at Geoff who caught it.

A grin stared spreading on his face when he realized that it was Brauer’s phone.

“Pocketed it before we got out. Don’t think he needs it anymore.”

There was small satisfied smile on Jack’s face. Geoff stared at her in honest wonder.

“Damn, you’re fucking good,” he said, not even trying to keep the admiration out of his voice.

“Thanks, I know,” she said, the smile widening enough to show off her teeth.

Geoff pocketed the phone Jack had so graciously stolen from the man she had killed for him and smiled. His crew really wasn’t all that bad.

“Fuck, watch that pothole!”

Jack let out a crackling laugh and Geoff corrected himself. His crew sucked and could go and fuck themselves.

They made it back to Los Santos without getting shot at and drove to one of their warehouses. Geoff had vehemently vetoed any suggestions of bringing the missiles back to his place.

It took some sweat and swears but they got the missiles into the warehouse without being seen or blowing themselves up.

Back in the car Geoff glanced at his phone, fully expecting to see a message from either Jeremy or Ryan. There was nothing tough.

Geoff frowned a bit. The two of them sometimes went radio silence after missions. He had asked Jeremy exactly once where they had been, had seen the way Jeremy’s face had started turning red before he had noticed the marks on his neck and then had never asked again.

They were grown men, damn good at their job most of the time and they could do whatever the hell they wanted to burn of any excess adrenaline after a successful mission as long as they both returned in one piece afterwards.

Still, as much as Geoff really did not want to disturb whatever was currently happening between the two, they were supposed to call in.

He dialed Jeremy’s number and listened to the phone ring for several times. Nobody picked up though. He’d try Ryan but the fucker had never once picked up a call from him before.

“Where are you, dickheads?!” he typed instead, sending the message to the two of them.

There was still no answer when Jack and he had returned back to their apartments.

Slowly Geoff was getting a bit concerned. Sure, his crew could take care of themselves but they were also engaged in many activities both illegal and dangerous. And the last time he had seen Jeremy and Ryan they had been in the middle of a shootout. They should have called in hours ago.

Geoff dialed Jeremy's number again, the phone going to voicemail after a while. Then he dialed Ryan's number. No voicemail here, the phone just kept ringing without anybody picking up.

Geoff sank down on his couch, staring at his phone and considering his options. Normally he'd wait and then scream when the two of them finally showed up. Jeremy and Ryan seemed to have been doing well enough for themselves and it had been some time since they last got to just wildly shot at somebody.

But still, the radio silence had been going on for too long now. With a sigh Geoff reached for his phone, deciding he'd try calling them one last time before he'd get Gavin to track their phones.

Then the door to his apartment was opened. Geoff didn't bother looking up, expecting it to just be Jack who considered his apartment an extension of her own most of the time.

“Geoff,” a voice then said and startled Geoff looked up.

The blood on Ryan wasn't anything new.

Ryan was the one you send if you wanted somebody dead and weren't too fussed about how it got done. Sometimes things got messy. Most often Ryan got messy.

He had calmed down somewhat after Jeremy had joined their crew and they had started their little thing. Still having Ryan showing up covered in blood wasn't anything unusual.

He usually wasn't half-carrying a shaking and bleeding Jeremy though.

“Fuck, what happened?!”

With a few big steps Geoff made his way to the two of them, helping Ryan get Jeremy to the couch.

“He got shot,” Ryan said curtly.

“I got shot,” Jeremy mumbled, throwing Geoff a lopsided grin.

Geoff's hands were wet with Jeremy's blood and he didn't feel like returning the smile.

“The bullet-” he began.

“Grazed his arm,” Ryan interrupted him. “I bandaged him up with what we had in the car.”

His voice was completely devoid of emotions but his hand, red with dried blood, was clenched into a fist, knuckles showing white.

“Bled all over the seat,” Jeremy mumbled. “Dry-cleaning bill is going to be a bitch.”

His voice was weak and shaky, his eyes still closed, and Ryan reached out to him, stopping before he actually touched Jeremy.

“I'll call the doctor,” Geoff mumbled, turning away from the two men. They couldn't bring her to the apartment itself. Money could buy silence until somebody snatched their doctor and asked very firmly if she really didn't want to tell them addresses of the Fakes.

She thankfully picked up immediately and he arranged for them to come by as quickly as they could, with a few firm instructions on how to best get Jeremy to her office.

Geoff finished the call and turned back towards the couch and their patient. Ryan was hovering close by, his back straight as an exclamation point, just staring at Jeremy.

“Let's get him back into the car,” Geoff said, trying to stay calm.

Ryan gave a jerky nod and reached for Jeremy.

“Ouch,” Jeremy mumbled when Ryan touched him.

“Hurts,” he whined as Ryan helped him sit up.

“Painkillers wearing off,” Ryan said. His voice was soft and he quickly supported Jeremy when the man almost fell, wrapping his arm around him.

“Ugh, sucks,” Jeremy grumbled. He stumbled along, more or less being carried by Ryan and Geoff.

They made it to the elevator and down to the garage and once more Geoff was grateful for the private garage that came with his penthouse. Well, semi-private considering he was sharing with Jack and half the time the crew used it as free parking space.

Jeremy's car was parked, the door to the back seat slightly open. Ryan made his way towards it but Geoff shook his head.

“We're not parking in front of the doctor's office with that thing,” he said. It was only purple and not Jeremy's usual mix of orange and purple but it was still very far from what Geoff would call inconspicuous.

Instead he made his way over to his own car, sparing a quick mourning thought for his last car which Michael had blown up. If he hadn’t they would not be in this situation right now, he thought a bit sourly. Maybe it was karma and he should buy the guy he had stolen the car from a new one.

“Gonna bleed on your seats,” Jeremy mumbled, interrupting his train of thoughts.

Geoff rolled his eyes.

“I literally couldn't care less,” he said. Letting Ryan carry the weight of Jeremy for a moment, Geoff got the car doors open before helping Ryan getting Jeremy into the back seat.

Ryan went in after him, helping Jeremy into a sitting position. Jeremy's head sank down, falling against Ryan’s chest.

Ryan moved his head so it was resting against his shoulder, in a gesture so soft that Geoff had to look away.

He turned the car on and started driving towards the doctor's office, really wanting to break the speed limit but being very much aware that they couldn't afford any police scrutiny right now.

In the rear mirror he could see Ryan staring straight ahead with Jeremy having closed his eyes again. His breath was going steadily and he at least has stopped bleeding though the bandage around his arm was red with blood.

“It's my fault” Ryan then suddenly broke the silence. “I was supposed to take the guy out who shot him.”

“Oh, shut up, you weren't the one to shoot him.”

“But...”

“He got hurt on the job. We all got hurt before. And then you brought him here and now we will fix him back up again.”

It wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last time. Geoff had last track of how many times his employees had stumbled into his apartment, bloody and bruised. Thankfully the amount of times they were brought in by another crew member were more rare but Geoff was also used to people bringing him his bleeding employees. He didn't like it but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep everybody save all the time. Neither could Ryan.

„I still should have watched out for him.” Ryan mumbled.

Things were really dire when Ryan was looking for emotional support from him.

“What will Jeremy say if you tell him it's your fault?”

Geoff could see Ryan's eyes wander over to Jeremy who was drooling slightly on Ryan's shoulder. It spoke volumes of the state of their relationship that Ryan didn't seem to care one bit.

“He'll laugh and tell me I'm an idiot. And then suggest to go and try to get back at those bastards.”

“There you go,” Geoff said. “Now just imagine he already told you that and stop acting like an idiot.”

There was a moment of silence and then Geoff could see Ryan reaching for Jeremy's hand, softly holding it in his own. His thumb was slowly stroking over the back of Jeremy's hand and Jeremy, still asleep, moved closer to Ryan.

Geoff looked away again, wanting to give them at least a little bit of privacy.

They finally made it to the doctor's office with Geoff only cursing three times at other drivers and Ryan woke Jeremy up, who looked even more dazed and confused than before.

“Blood on your seats,” he mumbled as Ryan and Geoff helped him out of the car. Geoff could see some red stains where Jeremy had been siting but they really had bigger problems right now.

The doctor's office was on the ground level which was a small mercy at least. The doctor opened the door for them, threw one look at Jeremy and then hustled Jeremy and Ryan into her examination room.

Geoff was left behind, hoping that the doctor wouldn't try to get Ryan to leave. He somehow doubted the man would move away from Jeremy's side. Geoff sank down on a chair in the waiting room, settling in.

An hour passed and Geoff had almost managed to find a comfortable position on the hard chair when the door opened again and the doctor came out.

“Bring him back next week so I can take care of his stitches. I gave some painkillers to his friend, he knows when to give them to him.” She stopped as if she suddenly remembered something important. “He is okay,” she then added. “I expect the usual amount in the usual account.”

With that she left, probably to alter a few documents to make up for the equipment and meds she had just used on Jeremy.

Ryan meanwhile came out of the examination room, half-carrying Jeremy again who had a new clean bandage around his arm, applied with a lot more skill than the one he had before.

“Hey Geoff,” Jeremy said, his eyes unfocused but still lighting up when he saw Geoff. “Gonna get a scar! 's cool, right?”

“Really cool, buddy,” Geoff said, helping Ryan with Jeremy who was swaying slightly. “And you also got some more of those good painkillers, didn't you?”

“Loads,” Jeremy said, a happy grin on his face. “No pain. I feel super good. You are here and Ryan's here and it's all good!”

He suddenly lifted his arm up, almost hitting Geoff in the face. He touched Ryan's cheek, who had been watching the entire scene with a stoic expression so far.

“So good that you are here, Ryan,” Jeremy mumbled, his dopy grin widening even more as he stared intensely at Ryan's face.

“Really good,” he mumbled.

Ryan's expression softened and he smiled.

“Yeah, good to know you're okay, Jeremy” he said.

Geoff coughed slightly and Ryan startled, looking away from Jeremy.

“Let's get you into bed, buddy” Geoff said to Jeremy.

They both managed to get Jeremy into the car and he happily spent the rest of the drive staring out of the window with wide eyes and touching Ryan's face who endured it without any change in expression.

Geoff wasn't surprised at all when they made it Jeremy's apartment and Ryan just silently pulled out his own key.

“You two going to be okay?” he asked when they had managed to get Jeremy into his bedroom.

Ryan nodded.

“Yeah, I'll call in the morning, tell you how he is doing once the painkillers wear off.”

Geoff nodded and walked towards the door.

“Hey Geoff,” Ryan interrupted him before he could open it. Geoff looked back at him.

“Thanks,” Ryan said. There was something sincere in his voice and Geoff bit down on a sarcastic answer.

"I’ll send you the cleaning bill for my car seats,” he said instead.

Ryan just smiled and Geoff opened the door, making his way back to his car. 

He fell asleep almost immediately once he had made it back to his apartment. In the morning, or rather in the early afternoon, he awoke to a picture of Jeremy smiling at the camera, giving two thumbs up.

A feeling of relief spread through Geoff and he realized just how tensed he had been. But now that Jeremy was okay, it was time to get down to the real business at hand.

Finding the fuckers who shot him and making them regret every decision that led to it.

With one hand he started calling Gavin, the other hand was going through the pockets of the jacket he had worn yesterday.

“I got a job for you,” he said the moment Gavin picked up the phone. His other hand had found what he had been looking for and he pulled the phone Jack had taken from Brauer.

“I need you to find some people for me,” he said. If Brauer hadn’t acted on his own accord, Gavin would find out. And then Geoff would make them pay.

The rest of the week passed in a flurry of research and preparations. Geoff made a half-hearted attempt to find a new buyer for those missiles they had still lying around, before delegating the entire thing to Jack. Gavin was too occupied trying to hack Brauer’s phone so Geoff made some calls to their police contacts. After being informed that no, they LSPD hadn’t come in possession of the corpse of German arm dealers and a few hired guns, Ryan and Michael were sent for clean-up and afterwards down some of the seedier parts of the city to find out where Brauer had hired his armed back-up from.

He had at this point received no fewer than a dozen text messages from Jeremy, asking to come along which Geoff had deliberately ignored after the first time he had told him that he’d have to wait until the stitches were out.

“He is going to go mad if he is forced to just sit around for much longer,” Ryan told him after the last message Geoff didn’t reply to and Geoff let out a long-suffering sigh.

None of his employees dealt well with forced down-time but Jeremy got positively antsy whenever he was forced to take a time-out.

“Tell him to come by my place tomorrow,” Geoff said to Ryan. “I have some stuff he can do without ripping his stitches.”

Anything to stop Jeremy from continuing to blow up his phone at this point, Geoff thought.

The next day somebody knocked on his door. Geoff threw the door a suspicious look. He had an electric look and everybody in the crew had the pin code for it.

“Geoff,” then came the muffled voice of Jeremy from the door. “Open up, my hands are full.”

Geoff’s suspicion grew. Slowly he opened the door, only to sew a bunch of packages which Jeremy immediately pressed into his hands.

“What the fuck is this?” Geoff asked perplexed, too confused to refuse suddenly being saddled with the packages.

“I’ll get the rest from the car,” Jeremy said instead of an answer and turned back to the elevator.

“You can open those already!” he said over his shoulder before the elevator closed behind him.

Completely baffled Geoff carried the boxes back into his apartment. He could see the logos of several online shopping sites on them. He randomly ripped one open, his confusion ever increasing when he saw the contents.

It was pillows. Throw pillows, the type you put on your couch. They looked to be off decent enough quality. The problem was the colors. They were a garish orange and an eye-sore of a purple.

Trepidation rose in Geoff and he slowly turned towards the other packages.

He found more pillows when he opened another one. Then came a bottle of a carpet cleaner. The last one contained a blanket with a truly horrifying orange pattern.

Geoff stared at the small pile of offenses against good taste in front of him.

Then the door opened again and Jeremy walked inside with another giant package.

Geoff instinctively stepped forward, taking the package away from Jeremy before he tore his stitches and reopened his wound.

“Open it,” Jeremy said, a wide grin on his face.

At a loss for words Geoff tore the package open.

Orange. Purple. Leather.

“I got you new seat covers for your car!” Jeremy said excited. “Cause I bleed on yours.”

Something inside Geoff’s head clicked into place. He threw a look at the other stuff Jeremy had brought him and then at his couch, currently devoid of any pillows and with a towel thrown over the red spots Jeremy had left on them.

“But…” he then began, only to get cut off by Jeremy.

“I was bored, sitting at home all day and I bleed all over your stuff so I thought I’d buy you something.”

Yes, Geoff thought, and naturally you bought them in your colors.

“You like them?” Jeremy asked with a wide grin. He was like a puppy who had brought Geoff a favorite toy. If only the toy wasn’t so goddamn ugly, Geoff thought.

“It’s…” If Jeremy hadn’t been shot only a few days ago Geoff would tell him exactly what he thought off the stuff.

“It’s nice. Thank you,” Geoff managed to say, the sky somehow not falling under the weight of this particular lie.

“We can put the seat covers on later,” Jeremy said, sounding pleased.

Not if I burn them first, it shot through Geoff’s head.

“So, what did you need my help with?” Jeremy then asked, interrupting any day dreams Geoff had about some leftover Molotov cocktails and those pillows and car seat covers.

Maybe if I distract him enough he will forget about the seat covers, it shot through Geoff’s head and he quickly got the documents he had prepared before Jeremy had arrived.

They went through some paperwork the rest of the morning that Geoff didn’t trust their accountant with. Jeremy didn’t complain once which showed how bored he must have been the last few days.

They were interrupted by Geoff’s phone ringing as they were trying to figure out just under which fake name Geoff had bought that one building in Mexico.

“Geoff,” Gavin said the moment he picked up his phone. “I got them.”

A wide grin started spreading on Geoff’s face.

“Good news,” he said to Jeremy after he had told Gavin to come over immediately. “Things just got a bit more exciting.”

Gavin arrived half an hour later, making a beeline for Geoff’s coffee table, ignoring the pieces of papers cluttering it up and setting his laptop down on it. Jack who had joined them in the meantime managed to quickly move the cup of coffee aside before Gavin accidentally knocked it over.

“So, the problem was less finding something shady on this guy’s phone and more trying to find anything even remotely legal,” Gavin said, pulling out Brauer’s phone and connecting it to his laptop.

“Like that dude is a black hole of crime,” he continued.

“I tried to sell him three air-to-ground missiles,” Geoff said. “I am fully aware that he is not exactly an upstanding citizen.”

“Yeah but he is just doing massive crime stuff! Not just the arm thing but also drugs and money laundering and I even found some connection to animal smuggling and-,”

“Gavin,” Geoff interrupted him, slowly but surely losing his patience. “What about the part where he tried to kill Jack and me and got Jeremy shot?”

“Oh yeah, right, I almost forgot that.”

Geoff suppressed a sigh. Gavin was absolutely brilliant when it came to hacking but he sure could lose sight of the actual matter at hand once he was knee deep in his little world of zeroes and ones.

Gavin pulled a crumbled piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over to Geoff.

There was a name written on it in Gavin’s chicken scratch. Soren Miller, it read.

“Found a mail with some background information about you from him. None of it anything even resembling good research. And quite a nice sum of money in one of Brauer’s off-shore accounts, just a few minutes after Brauer replied to the mail. And well, I guess Brauer then got lucky when he heard about you looking for a buyer for those missiles. Probably thought he could take both the money for the hit and the missiles.”

Geoff meanwhile continued staring at the name of the man who had ordered a hit on him.

“Who the fuck is this guy?!” he then exploded.

He had mentally gone through the rather long list of people with a grudge against him, had then continued on to the even longer list of people who had tried to kill him in the past. Miller appeared on neither though Geoff would be the first to admit that he was probably forgetting a few people.

“I dunno. He runs a company that created some social network app or something. He doesn’t come up with anything really shady, just the usual stuff of insider trading and tax evasion. I did find his Instagram though,” Gavin said, turning his computer around and showing Geoff a selfie of some man.

The guy looked exactly the way Geoff had imagined him from Gavin’s description. Young in a white shirt with douchy sunglasses and an arrogant smirk he was posing in front of a car that looked obscenely expensive.

A car Geoff had seen somewhere before.

“Oh, you absolute motherfucker!” he groaned when he remembered where exactly.

“What?” Jeremy asked with a frown, leaning forward to look at the picture. “Hey, that’s the car Michael blew up.”

“Yes,” Geoff said through gritted teeth. “That asshole is really trying to kill me cause I stole his fucking car?!”

“Well, you didn’t just steal it you also blew it up,” Gavin pointed out.

“Michael blew it up!”

“I did tell you to get out of the way,” Michael’s voice came from the door. He sauntered into the apartment, followed by Ryan.

“Yeah,” Jack pointed out. “He did tell you to get out of the way.”

“You’re all fired and I fucking hate you,” Geoff said.

“That the guy who hired those armed assholes that came after Jeremy and me?” Ryan asked, staring intensely at the picture on the laptop.

Geoff could tell he was already mentally planning the best way to dismember him.

“Okay,” he said quickly and loudly. “I have a plan. This Tiller guy-“

“Miller,” Gavin corrected him.

“Shut up Gavin,” Geoff said without looking at him. “That Miller guy is going to regret trying to fuck with us.”

Now he just needed to think of a way to actually pull this off, he thought.

Three days later he was sitting in the back of a helicopter and regretting his former bravado.

“Keep the fucking thing straight!” Whatever Jack was doing currently, he wouldn’t call it flying.

Jack just raised her middle finger, thankfully keeping her eyes straight ahead.

“Where are we even flying to?” Michael asked or rather yelled. The fucker could just turn his radio on like the rest of them but he enjoyed the opportunity to be louder than a chopper way too much.

“You’ll see,” Geoff said, leaning slightly back in his seat.

“I mean you told me,” Jack said from the cockpit. “It’s the mansion of that Miller guy.”

“Are we blowing it up?” Ryan said, a grin appearing on his face. He had been more than just a bit muffled in the last few days. There had been some reports of bodies showing up and when Geoff had brought the topic up, Ryan had informed him curtly that while Miller was Geoff’s problem, Ryan had taken care of the guys who had shot Jeremy in the first place.

Geoff knew better than to get in the way of the Vagabond when he was angry. He just hoped the fact that Jeremy had his stitches removed yesterday would be enough to make Ryan feel a bit better.

“Yes,” Geoff said with a sigh. He had hoped to keep this part of the plan secret for a bit longer. “We are blowing it up.”

“Fucking awesome,” Michael yelled, bumping his fist with Gavin. “Please tell me you brought the grenade launcher along.”

“I brought something better,” Geoff said, a wide grin appearing on his face.

If they had enough spaces he’d have brought even more but there was a limit to the amount of bombs you could put on a helicopter.

“We’re in position,” Jack then said. Below them was the giant mansion Miller owned, a wide-spread building with a giant garage and not one but two swimming pools.

“Is he inside?” Gavin asked.

Geoff shook his head.

“His company has a press conference for a new product or some bullshit like that. I bribed the housekeeper and gardener to come in later today, so the house is empty.”

Geoff had actually considered blowing the house up with Miller inside but there was nothing to be gained by killing some idiot tech guy, at least not in their circles. If the guy had actually any clue how any of this worked, he would have sent an actual assassin after him and not Brauer and his little posse of hired guns. And if Geoff actually wanted him dead, he’d have sent Ryan, alone and at night.

This wasn’t so much about Miller as it was about showing people that trying to fuck them over was a tremendously stupid idea. And maybe it was also about blowing up even more of Miller’s cars, Geoff thought to himself.

“Jeremy,” he then said. Jeremy looked over from the cockpit. The stitches had been removed yesterday and the doctor had him to keep low for at least another two weeks, something that had been promptly ignored considering Jeremy was in the helicopter with them.

Geoff pulled out something from the bag he had brought along. The helicopter had not originally been designed for this type of “drop off” but Geoff had contacts and now the helicopter had a few modifications.

He handed over the remote control to Jeremy who took with a slightly suspicious look.

“Press the button,” Geoff said with a wide grin.

And for all their flaws, his crew sometimes could in fact follow orders.

Jeremy pressed the button. A mechanical sound could be heard as the box that had been attached below the helicopter opened.

There was silence for a moment as everybody was straining their heads to see what was happening.

Ryan was the first who saw.

“The fucking missile?” he asked and then he started laughing loudly. The air-to-ground missile meanwhile was falling down and towards Miller’s mansion.

 “It seemed fitting,” Geoff said, his grin sharpening. “Go big or go fucking home,” he added. “Hope Miller gets that message.”

“It’s not going to explode,” Jack pointed out. “We’re not high enough to activate the bomb.”

“Nope. But those will help.” Geoff said, pulling even more remote controllers from the bag. Feeling a bit like Santa Claus, handing candy to children who had been nice, he gave each of his employees one of the controllers.

Just in this case the children had been on the naughty list for years. And instead of candy it was C-4, that had been generously attached to the missile.

“This is the best fucking thing ever,” Michael said, his eyes sparkling with a slightly manic glow. And then he immediately pressed his button.

There was a long moment before everybody else scrambled to also press their buttons.

And then stuff exploded. A ball of fire engulfed the mansion, the shockwave shaking the helicopter for a moment as the missile and the C-4 wrecked the mansion below them. If he looked very closely Geoff could almost imagine seeing the rest of Miller’s car collection burning to pieces in the garage.

Later on they’d fight about who exactly had caused the explosion, Geoff could tell already. But right now they were all silently watching the fire below them, a strangely peaceful moment considering the chaos they had just caused.

“Can we do this with the other missiles too?” Jeremy then suddenly asked.

“Oh, that would be bloody awesome!” Gavin said.

Geoff blinked, the feeling of peace vanishing in an instant.

“I know somebody who can get us an actual fighter jet,” Jack contributed from the cockpit.

“We could blow up half the city with that kind of ammunition,” Ryan said, his smile turning sharp in a very concerning way.

“I can get more missiles, I mean it was really easy the first time,” Michael added and Geoff was starting to regret this entire thing.

You bring them explosives to blow up one mansion and they immediately want to blow up more, he thought.

But well, after all he wouldn’t still be here still if some part of him didn’t enjoy it too.

And after all, you could never have too much firepower.