In a messed up kitchen in an apartment somewhere in the South Bronx, the smell of vinegar and chemicals hung heavy in the air.
Scarface stood by the counter, rubbing the burn mark under his lower lip. On the small plastic table sat a police scanner he managed to get his hands on, and beside it lay a burner phone he was keeping his eyes on.
Suddenly, the screen blinked twice making him quickly grab the phone to see the text that arrived.
= We crossed the bridge. On our way to Riverdale. =
A small smirk appeared at the side of his mouth. Almost at the same time, the police scanner came to life as the dispatcher's voice boomed through the speaker with the details of what was happening
[All units, BOLO on a commercial van heading northbound from the RFK Bridge approach. Suspects breached the checkpoint. Armed and extremely dangerous...]
"These guys are wild for real," Scarface said, tossing the burner onto the table.
