Melissa’s short letter gave Bruce some hope. There was a small chance of seeing her again. The mere thought of meeting with her made his hear flutter. However, he had to focus on the task that Julia had assigned to him. Matt agreed to help him, as soon as Bruce explained to him his situation.

Later that morning, he received the address of the two Mexicans who had stolen her pendant.

“4281, Wilkinson Street, Van Nuys. 1^st floor, apartment 6. Leave your bikes at least 100 yards from the apartment building. They’re too loud. If you don’t want to ride there, you can borrow Jeffrey’s car. Those two work as bouncers at Milton’s, it’s a nightclub down that street. They won’t be home until at least 3am. Call me when you have the pendant.”

The idea of using their motorcycles did not sound so appealing to either Bruce or Matt. They didn’t want to leave them so far from the Mexicans’ apartment building and even if they left them two hundred yards away, the noise was sure to wake up some of their neighbors. Unwilling to take that risk, they met Julia’s partner that afternoon and borrowed his green, Jeep Cherokee.

A few minutes after 11pm that night, Bruce parked the large SUV on the right side of the road, less than twenty yards away from the apartment building. Strangely enough, five Latinos had gathered on the pavement, talking loudly to each other, sounding intoxicated.

“Great.” Matt groaned. “The Mexicans are having a party.”

“Nah.” Bruce disagreed. “They’ll be out of here soon. How does it feel?”

“I’ve missed it, kind of.” Matt confessed. “You know what they say. It’s not the kill…”

“I know. It’s the thrill of the chase.” Bruce finished his sentence. “I’ve not. If I had, I’d still be doing it.”

“That chick Julia looked hot.” Matt remarked. “Do you think I should…” He faltered. “Ask her out?”

“Go ahead.” Bruce encouraged. “You should know that she’s hiding something, though.”

“What?” Suddenly, Matt’s voice became high-pitched.

“You heard me. She was pretty upset when I told her to do this herself. I don’t know.” Bruce shrugged his shoulders. At that moment, the Latinos crossed the street, heading towards a van on the left. The tallest of them opened the driver’s door and within seconds, they left the small neighborhood.

“It’s time.” Bruce murmured, as he put on a black, ski mask. Matt did the same, before picking up a small, black case of tools from the car floor. The two friends exited the SUV. They quickly walked towards the apartment building entry door and climbed the five steps that led to it. Bruce kept looking around them, while Matt put his right hand into his bag, searching for the right tool. They stopped outside the beige, old entry door. Matt sat on his knees and pulled out a small screwdriver and tweezers. Bruce turned his back to him, took three steps towards the top landing of the small staircase and started looking right and left. He was rushed with adrenaline, but, for some reason that he could not explain, Bruce felt more anxious than he had ever been. In fact, he was so tense that only seconds after Matt had began to work on the lock, a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead.

The clicking sound of the door opening drew his attention. He averted his gaze from the road and flipped around, as Matt pushed it further open. Bruce’s friend arose to his thin, 6’1” figure and walked into the building. They pulled their flashlights out of their pockets and turned them on, almost at the same time. Tiptoeing, they made their way towards the stairs on the right. Bruce passed by Matt, as they climbed them. He stopped at the top landing and pointed his flashlight to the left. The light landed on the door closest to them; the number “4” was on it and there were three more doors down the corridor. Bruce then pointed his flashlight to the right. Apartment No. 6 was the second door to the right, twenty feet away from them. There was an elevator between the two corridors.

They ran towards the brown, wooden door, pointing their flashlights at it. Matt pulled the screwdriver and the tweezers out of the left pocket of his pants, as Bruce fixed his gaze on the staircase to the left. Matt began to pick on the lock, but, twenty seconds later, the sound of a door opening and shutting upstairs forced him to stop. The staircase light was lit.

“Fuck!” Matt whispered. “What do we do now?”

“Wait.” Bruce spoke in a low tone, grabbing him by the wrist, as the sound of high heels, click clacking on the white, marble floor echoed in the building. Bruce sighed in relief, as he heard the elevator door being pulled open. He let go of Matt’s wrist, feeling his heart still pounding in his chest. The staircase light went out, as two more drops of sweat rolled down Bruce’s forehead. He looked away from the staircase and down at the lock. Matt gave the tweezers one last flick with his finger, before the door clicked. He gently pushed it open. Finding themselves in the living room of the small apartment, they raised their flashlights. Bruce spotted an open, bedroom door, at the beginning of a corridor to the right. Not wasting any time, he rushed towards it. There was a desk in front of the far wall of the room, with a large, open window over it. Bruce kicked away the executive chair and sat on his knees. Pointing his flashlight down at the top drawer, he opened it, as Matt entered the room. He noticed a dresser to the right and walked up to it. Bruce pulled quite a few papers out of the drawer, before spotting a small, blue, velveteen box in the upper right corner. He put his flashlight on the desk and took it in his hands. Slowly opening it, he saw the worn, but beautiful name pendant that Julia wanted him to find. He picked it up and slowly turned around, holding it in the air.

“I got it!” He whispered. Just when Matt turned his head to the left, the distinctive sound of a gun cocking got Bruce’s attention. He grabbed his flashlight from the drawer and pointed it upward. A large, stocky Latino, with a gun in his right hand, was standing at the front door. Afraid for his life, he had no choice. Bruce flipped around, holding his breath. He put his right hand on the edge of the desk and violently pushed it to the left. A big step forward brought him closer to the open window. Bruce pushed one leg over the ledge of the window. His leg muscles strained, as he stretched his leg straight. Then, he curved it over the window sill, staring at the row of parked cars by the pavement. A large, black sedan was right below him. Holding both hands along the side of the wall, he turned to his side and bent his back to fit under the window. He raised his knees and brought his other leg over the window sill, until both of his legs dangled over the edge. Bruce shut his eyes and pushed off. The loud, banging sound that his large body made rocked the quiet neighborhood. He landed hard on his right side and on the roof of the black sedan, letting out a cry of pain. Matt sprinted across the room and jumped recklessly out of the window. He landed flat and hard on his back, on the hood of a small, green Toyota. His scream of pain was even louder than Bruce’s.

Knowing that the Latino would definitely fire at them, Bruce rolled onto the roof of the sedan. As soon as he fell on the pavement, a bullet was lodged into the rear right door of the car, an inch below the handle. He bounced up, looking at Matt who had rolled off the hood of the Toyota and was lying in the narrow space between the two vehicles. One more bullet hissed past his left ear, as he sprinted along the pavement. Bruce realized that the shooter would not miss for the second time. If he stopped on the pavement and crawled towards Matt, he would give the Latino more than enough time to aim well. So, six feet before the gap between the two cars, he literally jumped into it. He bumped his head against the right taillight panel and his left arm against the rear bumper, but this was a much smoother impact than the one that he had just survived.

“Matt!” He cried, grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt. “Matt, are you ok?”

“Oh shit, man.” Matt gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “My back hurts.”

“Get up!” Bruce yelled again, pulling him towards him. He raised his head and glanced to the left. Their car was less than twenty feet away. Coughing, Matt put his right hand down on the road.

“Can you walk?” Bruce asked, returning his gaze to him. Matt nodded.

“Forget about it. I’ll go get the car.” He muttered. Then, Bruce jumped up, moved around and started running towards the large SUV. Before getting there, he pulled a keychain out of the right pocket of his pants, which contained a keypad and the car key. He pressed the “unlock” button on the keypad. Bruce opened the driver’s door in a hurry, feeling overwhelmed by tension. He was drenched in sweat. He put the key in the ignition and the big engine of the Cherokee roared, before he drove off. Bruce put his foot hard down on the gas, but before long, he stepped on the brakes, stopping just next to the spot where Matt was. He leaned towards the passenger door and opened it. Matt lifted his right arm and put it on the seat and then the left. Bruce grabbed one loophole of his jeans to pull him closer to him, as the sound of the entry door slamming shut was heard. He couldn’t wait any longer. With Matt lying across the passenger seat, he stepped on the gas even harder. All four tires of the car squeaked and picked up smoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Latino standing on the pavement, pointing the gun at him as he drove past.

“Shit!” He yelled, instinctively ducking, a split second before a bullet shattered his window. One more bullet shattered the right taillight and one more was lodged into the bumper. The powerful vehicle sped down the road. Bruce saw a red light, a few hundred feet away from them. However, he was so rushed with adrenaline that he wasn’t thinking anymore. He kept his foot on the gas and ran the red light. Luckily for him and Matt, there was no oncoming traffic on the intersecting road. Bruce checked his rearview mirror. Nobody was behind them. He heaved a deep sigh of relief, as he lay back in his seat.

“Are you ok, brother?” He asked.

“I don’t know about you, man.” Matt said, looking up at him with blurry eyes. “But I think we got to do this more often.”

Averting his eyes from the road ahead, Bruce looked down at him. His feet were still dangling out of the open passenger door. He gently put his foot on the brakes, as he pulled over on the right side of the road. Happy to have made it out of the Latinos’ apartment alive, Bruce couldn’t help but burst into loud laughter. He leaned forward, banging his hands against the steering wheel.

“Oh, man.” He chuckled. “Get your ass back in the car, you moron.”

“Come on, Big Bruce! Don’t tell me that wasn’t fun!” Matt continued, pulling his legs inside the car.

“Whatever.” Bruce giggled. “Hold on. I need to call Julia.” He stated, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. We got it.”

“That’s great news!” She cheered. “Listen, I know it’s late, but can I come pick it up?”

“Yeah, sure. See you later.”