Sorry, Ma!
Disappeared
Hima drove her vehicle at high speed. It can't be too late. If a little late, then the plan is threatened to fail.
After fifteen minutes of driving, Hima's car entered the courtyard of a cafe. In the parking lot, he met a man. Dressed all black. Wearing a hat and leather jacket.
"After he receives the money, you tail him, then vanish!" tell the man."
"Okay, Madam." The man received a blue tote bag from Hima's hand, then left the cafe courtyard to carry out his duties.
After the man left, Hima immediately called Clemira.
"I'm at the cafe, Cle." Hima said as she walked into the cafe.
"I'm here too." Clemira waved as her gaze caught the figure talking to her via phone.
Hima waved back, then disconnected the call. He walked quickly towards the table where Clemira was.
They hugged each other and greeted each other with excitement.
"Him, I'm so sorry, yeah." Clemira said with a sad look. His hand landed on Hima's shoulder after both of them had already sat down. "I'm sorry, I couldn't make it to the funeral at the time, my promise with the patient was absolutely irrevocable" he said.
Hima smiled with understanding. "It's okay, Cle. I got it. Oya, this is your order at that time, hopefully according to expectations, yes." Hima pulled the paper bag that had been brought, then handed it to Clemira.
***
Hima's man had already arrived at a city terminal. The blackmailer agreed to meet around the place.
The man named Joki looked around, then walked up to the iron chair lined up around the terminal. He placed the blue bag on the iron chair beside him.
From a distance, a man silently watched the Jockey. After confirming that the man sitting in the iron chair was Hima's man, he moved closer.
Hima had already told him that she could not deliver the money herself, as there was an appointment with the customer. The woman also said that she put the hundred million into a blue tote bag.
Without excuse, the blackmailer was sitting next to the Jockey. He pretended to be waiting for his departure.
"Ehem." He cleared his throat, making the Jockey look over.
"Don't look!" he said to the Jockey.
After hearing that, the Jockey could then believe that the man sitting next to him was a blackmail suspect.
"Stay looking ahead!" continue the man.
Jockey according.
"So, you're Mrs Hima's man?" ask him on the Jockey.
"Yes." Yeah." Answering briefly, Jockey while looking around as if waiting for the arrival of the bus. Next to his hand tapped on the iron chair so as to create a pitched sound.
"What's that bag?" The man glanced towards the tote bag located on the chair.
The jockey looked back.
"Yes." Yeah."
Again the answer is short.
"My bus has come" said the man, then grabbed a blue tote bag. His steps were pushed towards the bus door, then entered into a heart-pounding condition.
The bus leaves the terminal.
The jockey smiled obliquely, then got up from his seat. Both hands were tucked into the jacket pocket, then ran along the bus. With his shrewdness, the Jockey climbed up from the back door of the bus, unbeknownst to the man. He sat on a chair on the last row while occasionally glancing forward.
The man who was hugging the blue bag looked deathly pale. Occasionally glancing back and side. The feeling of being stalked instantly crept in the mind.
After fifteen minutes the bus stops at the front stop of the train station. The man got off the bus followed by the jockey.
From a distance the jockey watches the man's movements. After entering the station, the Jockey then moved inside.
Inside the carriage, there was a noise of the sound of trains moving downstream.
"Hurry up to your train, son." Without looking at the boy, the man immediately changed the bag he was carrying, with a similar bag placed next to the chair.
Previously, he had made sure that the Jockey did not see the scene.
Actually, they had all planned. The man thought he would be followed. And in this plan, it must be a big risk that he will face.
However, the economic condition of his family is really on the edge. His wife was seriously ill, while his children needed to pay for school. Until now he also could not find a decent job. So, this is the only way, even if you have to sacrifice your life.
The boy looked to be smothering his mouth. After his father left, he moved into the carriage, then cried in silence.
If you do not return until the train leaves, then use this money as well as possible.
The boy cried when he remembered his father's words while they were still on their way to the station.
While elsewhere.
The man kept running away from the station. His intention is to outwit the Jockey and escape from his target. But he had mispredicted. The jockey found his tracks.
With a gasp of breath, the man continued to run down the ridge. Stay away from the station, then enter the traditional market area.
Many piles of vegetables that are used as victims of peddling. Not a few traders also yelled at him because it had made them a big loss.
"Woo!"
The traders looked angry, but not to the point of ganged at the man.
The jockey continued to chase, until a few minutes later his steps reached the man when the two were already in an uninhabited high-rise area.
The building looked abandoned, open on all sides.
BUGH
"Aaaarrrgh!"
The Jockey's kick hit the man's back causing him to fall. The blue bag that had been drawn earlier, was now slammed far away.
The jockey directly passed through the body of the man who was almost half a century old. Then, grabbing the tote bag that was exactly like the bag he had received from Hima.
Without saying much, the man unzipped the zipper of the bag, then checked its contents.
GLUE
The man who fell down earlier gulped with great difficulty.
"Where's the money?" The jockey asked while flipping the open bag, thus making the entire contents scatter on the ground. His sharp gaze was drawn forward.
Plastic and paper trash appeared to be strewn across the man.
"You want the money?" ask the Jockey again with the volume of the sound increasing.
The man still did not answer. He just shook his head while inching backwards.
The jockey pulled out a gun from the inner jacket pocket, then crouched down in front of the man.
The man swallowed the saliva again. Cold sweat had already flooded his face.
"It turns out you chose to shut up? Alright." The jockey pointed the muzzle of the gun at the man's forehead.
GLUE
He swallowed the saliva again. His mouth looked stammered. Like I want to say something, but I can't.
"I'll make you unable to talk forever."
DOR
