He put the glass to his lips, the tremendous taste
of wood and spices tingling his taste buds. As he swallowed and his
throat burned with its singeing aftertaste, he slammed the glass down on
his desk and let out a big "Ahhhh." His name was James Macleod, a World
War One veteran, co-founder of a whiskey plant, and only 26 years old.
The door flew open and there was the other co-founder and war veteran,
George Johnston. A very tall man, about 6’3, he wore those black
suspenders and that bow tie as usual. George was in a panic exclaiming
that they had to sell much more whiskey if all these workers were going
to keep their jobs. James thought for a while, and suddenly the idea
came to him: they would sell whiskey to the now prohibition-age America.
In the warehouse on the bottom floor, trucks were loaded to the brim
with barrels and bottles. Workers from the plant got into the trucks to
go off to big cities like Boston, New York and Detroit. George and James
were off to Chicago to sell to the big-name gangster Al Capone. They
armed themselves to the teeth with Tommy guns and shotguns. They hopped
into their truck and started to drive the long drive to Chicago.
They crossed the border on a back road one day later. Driving through
forests and on dirt roads, they found themselves evading police and
prohibition agents at every turn. It was another three days before they
made it ten miles away from Chicago. Before they could reach their
destination, they were stopped by a car with two prohibition agents. The
agents got out and demanded to search their truck, and said would arrest
them if they had to. The agents opened the back and before they could
say anything, two blunt objects struck the agents on the head and they
were thrown back into their car. James and George would do anything to
get this liquor to Chicago.
They arrived in the glamorous city of Chicago at nightfall when all the
lights lit up the large city. When they pulled up to the side of the
street where flocks of people roamed the sidewalk, two men in black
walked up and told them to drive behind the warehouse to their right.
They did just that and were greeted by fifteen large men and also the
man himself, Al “Scarface” Capone. They opened up the back of their
truck and the American men looked in awe at what was there. Capone
offered a substantial amount of cash, but James was smarter that. He
charged triple that amount and the gangsters gave to them. James and
George had just cheated one of the smartest men in America.
They got back into their truck and tried to leave, but they were
intercepted by police with their weapons drawn. The two looked at each
other and in a swift motion they opened fire. Jumping out of the truck,
they couldn’t see anything because of the flashing and smoke. After a
minute they saw the bodies and sighed in relief, but it was cut short by
a blinding pain on their heads and then darkness.
Thrown into the back of their truck, they were driven across town to
Capone’s headquarters, where they were blindfolded and tied up. They
were told they were going to be killed because of how they had tried to
cheat Capone. A while later, two men were brought before a firing squad.
Capone looked up from his newspaper and with a sigh said to shoot. The
two men were obliterated by the hundreds of rounds that entered their
bodies. With blood spattered all over the wall, the firing stopped and
their blindfolds were removed. What Capone saw horrified him: they were
his own men. He started to yell and cuss, screaming death threats and
then sat down with his hands over his eyes.
At the same time, but miles away, two men dressed as mobsters and with a
truck full of money and booze smiled at each other as they headed back
towards the icy north.