"Going Straight" (closed)

[PennySaver]

More days later:

Just as Marcus had been building his Untouchables, Emelia had been putting together her own team. She hadn't found a catchy name for it yet, though. What did you call a group of men and women whose sole aim was to destroy everything that the 5 generations before them had spent their lives building?

Today, Emelia's team was hard at work. It might not have looked like work; the pair of them were sitting in one of the City's most exclusive restaurants eating a multi-course meal accompanied by thousand a dollar bottles of champagne.

They weren't working alone. A third member of Emelia's as-of-yet-unnamed team was with them. Carter Timms had been Enzo D'Angelo's accountant for almost 40 years. It was estimated that he'd personally laundered more than a billion dollars during his time with the Family.

Carter's loyalty had always been to Enzo D'Angelo first and the Family he led second. It had made recruiting him for the going straight plan a matter of simply asking. Emelia had told Carter of her father's stroke. She'd taken the accountant to see her father, where he'd broken down in despair at the loss of the man who he'd always called his oldest, truest, and most dear friend.

The most important part of Carter's job had been laundering the Family's dirty money through their legitimate businesses. Today, he was expanding the list of legitimate businesses by one. He wasn't buying the D'Angelo's another laundromat, bowling alley, or game arcade, though. He was buying McNamara & Draper, Inc., a $500 million dollar food processing and distribution business.

Sitting with Emelia, Philip, and Carter was a second man, Henry Draper, grandson of one of MDI's founders and current President of the company. He'd been invited to dinner thinking he was meeting new clients. He hadn't recognized either Philip or Carter, who'd been awaiting his arrival. They chatted politely for several minutes before Emelia arrived and sat in the chair next to him.

Draper's eyes had widened, and his mouth had fallen open at the sight of Enzo D'Angelo's daughter. He knew very well who Emelia was, and he'd known immediately that this was not a normal business meeting. To make matters worse, Emelia hadn't arrived alone. By her side, was a strikingly sexy young woman named Rosalee. She took the seat on the opposite side of Draper from Emelia, making him the meat of a most delicious looking sandwich.

Draper had been sleeping with the dark-skinned, dark-haired beauty for several months now. She'd been doing things with, for, and to his body that no other woman ever had. That included his wife, the mother of his five children.

At Emelia's signal, Philip set a business purchase contract before the man and Carter skimmed over the details. Draper sat there in shocked silence during it all. When Carter went silent, Emelia told MDI's current-but-outgoing President, "I think you have to agree that the terms are very fair. After calculating for your company's current debts and obligations, MDI has a net value of approximately $50 million. We are offering you $60 million."

Emelia glanced at Rosalee, who'd been giving her lover flirty glances while also sometimes tracing a fingertip over his arm or shoulder or sometimes -- under the table -- his thigh. Emelia continued, "We also keep your ... entanglements from your wife."

Just in case the man had any thoughts of disclaiming any accusations about his infidelity, Philip held up a small iPad, on which was playing a hidden camera video. In it, Draper was on his hands and knees while Rosalee was jerking off his cock with one hand while her second hand was slipping an audibly buzzing dildo in and out of his ass.

After a long moment of silence, the stunned man murmured hesitantly, "Do you have ... any idea of who you are fucking with?"

Draper wasn't threatening Emelia with any harm that he himself might incur her. But looking up into her eyes, he could see that she knew exactly about whom he was talking.

What made Draper's company exceptionally special for the D'Angelo Family wasn't simply that the business's size and turnover of products made it perfect for funneling through great sums of dirty money. What made taking control of MDI a major coup for the D'Angelo's was that currently it was secretly controlled by the D'Amato Family.

And better yet, in just over a year from now when the City's new stadium opened, MDI would be the sole provider of concessions for its 50,000-max occupancy for Major League Baseball's newest expansion team, as well as for those attendees for Major League soccer games, music concerts, and more.

"If I sign this," Draper said about the contract before him, "they'll kill me. And then ... they'll kill you. You'll start a war. I'm no expert in organized crime, but--"

"Lucky for you, Mister Draper," Emelia interrupted, "I am an expert in organized crime." She gestured toward the paper, saying politely, "At the bottom, on the left, please."

Draper hesitated. He didn't want to do this. But looking from the daughter of one of the City's most powerful mobsters to the man beside her with the bulge under his arm to the sexy woman beside him who knew his body more intimately than he did his own, he knew he didn't have much of a choice.

He scribbled his signature and set the pen aside. Emelia took the document, signed it, then slid it across to Carter. The accountant signed it, too, then took out his Notary stamp and finished the sale. He pulled an envelope from his suit jacket, handing it to Emelia. She pulled a sheet of paper out and handed it to Draper.

"$10 million dollars in a Cayman's bank, so you can avoid some of the taxes," she told him. "As soon as the lawyers have gotten the papers through the City and MDI is, in fact, mine, the balance will be deposited."

"Caymans...?" Draper asked.

"Well, it's like you said," Emelia explained. "The D'Amato's aren't going to be happy with you. They're not going to care that you didn't have much of a choice in the matter. So--"

"This would be a good time for me to start a long vacation," Draper filled in. Emelia smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Draper glanced to Rosalee with a hopeful expression but only got a light shake of her head. He looked to the proof of deposit and mumbled, "Didn't think so."

They made their farewells and then made their exits. The next day, Carter filed the paperwork with the City's Business Licenses Division. Even before end of business that day, Gionvanni D'Amato was made aware of how he'd been fucked by the 25-year-old daughter of his greatest business rival. And by sundown, his plans for revenge were already underway.

 

[Gabe619]

"Ok, so let me run through the basics, the rest you can find in your own time." Greg Abbot stated as he and Marcus stood in the main room of the apartment which looked totally different to when he had first stepped inside. He thought that he should of taken before and after pictures to show Emelia, but than again he was sure she would come over herself at some point to see what he had done with the money she had given him.

"First, I made the larger bedroom into a barracks style living space. You got two bunk beds in there, closets for clothing, etc. The bathroom has a walk in shower now, and the other basics. The smaller bedroom has an ensuite with shower/bath. It has closets of course and a king size bed. I was gonna put mirrors on the ceiling for you but I felt that was a bit 70's." Greg smirked and continued. "The windows are now bullet and blast proof. As long as no one tries to shoot a 50 cal through it or stick a pound of C4 to them you'll be just fine. As I mentioned the main door is a work of art so I left that alone. We upped your surveillance a little. You now have cameras in the hallways of the building, more angles in the car park and at the entrance and a few more outside giving you a 360 degree arc of security. Talking of security I put in a few infrared security beams at some of the main entry doorways. If someone manages to get inside the building without using the security codes and they trip one of those babies the alarm sounds. As for the main living area you got couches, armchairs, tables, tv, kitchen area, the works .... did I miss anything?" He scratched his head, then snapped his fingers. "You said you would need somewhere for a computer nerd to work?" He moved to some wooden panelling on one wall and opened it to reveal space beyond. It had shelving, electrical outlets, internet points, everything but the actual computer. "I guessed you could put the bloody computer in yourself, I don't have a mind for those things."

Marcus was actually shocked at how quickly, and how well Abbot had managed to do the work. The place look amazing. He shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a wad of $100 bills and handing them over to Greg who took them with a puzzled expression.

"You already paid me, son, what's this?"

"Lets call it a tip for a job well done. Remember Greg, you were never here, this place doesn't exist, we clear on that?" Cole out a hand on the older mans shoulder as he looked him in the face.

"Crystal, and don't worry, as you paid in cash there's no paper trail, I kept it all off the books. I should get going or Diana will think I have a lady on the side."

"She knows your not that stupid, Greg, she would rip your balls off." Marcus laughed as they walked to the front door.

"Damn right, oh, wait, I have something for you, something I found when working downstairs. Come with me."

The two men descended the stairs which had kept their dilapidated look, though Abbot had strengthened them where needed without taking away the dust, cobwebs and damage. Finally they got to the basement level, just off the car park and Greg led Cole into the main trunk distribution room where all the piping for the heating, ventilation, etc, met. Abbot walked over to one wall which looked like any of the other walls in the room. But as he looked back to make sure Cole was watching he pressed on one brick that looked like any other brick and the wall popped forward a few inches and slid to the side. Behind it was a metal maintenance door. that was old and scored with soot and dents.

"Why the secret door to hide this piece of shit?" Cole asked.

"Because, young Padawan, this is not a piece of shit." Greg grinned.

He grabbed a huge lever style door handle and pushed down, there was a dull clunk and he pushed the door inward and open. Beyond was darkness and a musky wet smell. Greg reached into the doorway and flicked a switch turning on dozens of hanging overhead light bulbs. With a wave for Cole to follow, Greg walked through the doorway. What lay beyond was a subway tunnel. Greg had strung a line of bulbs along the arched ceiling heading off in one direction while in the other the tunnel descended into darkness.

"This is part of the old Inner City line. They built the thing back in the 60's, but never completed this stretch. It's not on any plans unless you go back far enough and even then its easily missed. If you follow the tunnel it eventually comes out four block down near the river. You can't drive a car up here, but I figured it would do for a neat escape tunnel, or a secret entrance if you want absolutely no one to know what you're bringing in. What do you think?"

"I think its perfect. You outdid yourself, Greg, you are a true master."

"Nah, just lots of years of experience, lad. Ok, I'm off."

 

[Gabe619]

As Marcus pulled into a parking space at the law courts he hoped Shovelli was in a good mood. You never could tell with a DA, it all depended on how their cases were going. He grabbed the folder Emelia had given him with some information on Senator Davis's escapades. It was all there yet, not enough to go to trial by a long shot, but it did show a pattern of criminal behaviour and contacts with disreputable people. He smoothed down his suit, having made the effort to look good for the DA, the light grey looked good on him, but then it was his one and only tailored suit. He had even shaved for the meeting.

Walking inside he took the elevator to the floor Shovelli's office was on and threaded his way between para-legals, office staff and other lawyers as well as a few cops and bailiffs. Luckily none of the cops he saw knew him, it would not be good for one of his current team to see him heading into the office of a DA knowns for her dogged investigations into organised crime. The OCB currently had no cases solid enough to bring to her, so Marcus being here would raise questions. He entered the outer office to see a young lady sitting at a desk tapping away at her keyboard. She looked up smiling as he closed the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Detective Marcus Cole, I believe I have a meeting with the DA?" He responded smiling back.

"Of course, Detective, one moment." The girl stood and walked into the main office after knocking on the door. Cole found himself admiring her tight skirt and long legs. As she turned she noticed him watching her and smile mischievously. "DA Shovelli will see you now, Detective Cole .... and please, do say goodbye before you go."

Cole winked and walked into the office closing the door behind himself before turning to face the feared DA sitting at her deck.

 

[PennySaver]

(OOC: Try to picture Shovelli in her office and her underwear, not on a beach in a bikini.)

Yesterday:

The woman standing behind the file and folder covered table spoke animatedly to the man sitting high above her at the bench, "But your honor, the evidence is clear against the defendant. The blood evidence, the finger prints ... hell, we have video of him entering the bar!"

"All inadmissible!" the defense attorney to her left argued. "Your honor, you've already ruled on--"

He went quiet when the judge lifted his hand in a stop gesture. His honor looked to the ADA and reminded her, "I have ruled on this, Miss Shovelli, as you are very aware. It is fruit of the poisonous tree. The police entered the business estab--"

"The dirty cops!" Laura Shovelli cut the judge off. She got a dirty glare from in front while from behind she heard grumbles from several of the police officers who were here for no other reasons than to cover their asses and intimidate her. She ignored those behind her and told the man before her, "The Detectives who were surveilling the bar did everything right! They had a warrant ... several of them, in fact. And they entered the bar only after they heard gunfire within."

"Miss Shovelli--" the judge started.

But again, she cut in, continuing, "The Detectives were doing everything they were supposed to do. It was the beat cops who--"

Only now did Laura turn to look behind her at the police officers sitting there in their blues and shiny, dirty badges. She glared, then turned back to the judge, "It was only these police officers who -- for reasons they still have not explained -- suddenly appeared out of nowhere and entered the bar. They had no part in this investigation! It is the belief of the District Attorney's office that these men--"

"Careful, Miss Shovelli," the judge cut in with a loud, aggressive tone. He knew what she was about to say, and he knew that to say it was dangerous for her. More calmly, he continued, "Before you make any unsubstantiated claims in my court ... I advise you to get proof."

He glanced to the cops that he knew for a fact were dirty because, like them, he was in the pocket of the same Crime Family. Looking back to Laura while lifting his gavel in the air, he simply ended the procedure with, "Case dismissed."

The slam of the small wooden hammer caused her to flinch involuntarily. She looked down to her papers -- her stacks of evidence, now worthless -- and grimaced. Then, before she even realized she was doing it, she murmured, "Fucking crooked judges."

"Excuse me?" the judge called out as he was standing to make his departure. He looked down to Laura, asking, "Do you want to repeat that, Miss Shovelli?"

She looked up to him, contemplated the possible results of doing as he asked, then repeated with emphasis, "Fucking ... crooked ... judges."

Today, now:

The Personal Assistant began to announce the Detective's presence in the outer office. Seeing her boss's current state of undress, though, she diverted her gaze out of respect. The judge had jailed Laura for contempt of court the day before, releasing her only 18 hours later after Laura's boss went to him and personally paid the $2,000 fine. She smelled like a holding cell: urine, saliva, even shit. She needed to shower, but a fresh outfit and some wet wipes under the arms would have to do for now.

"What can I do for you, Connie?"

"Detective Marcus Cole," the PA responded. "He has an appointment."

Laura knew the man but only barely. He'd testified years ago while he'd still been in uniform. It had been her very first case as an Assistant District Attorney. She'd lost that one, not due to his lack of assistance but because of her own inexperience.

He'd again supported her in a case last year, before he'd joined the OCB. She couldn't recall the case but she did recall that she'd won it because of his testimony. It should have endeared him to her, made her remember him fondly. But honestly, she had been and still was so overwhelmed with the bullshit of working in a corrupt system that sometimes she had a hard time remembering the names and faces of the staff she worked with each and every day, let alone the cops who she only saw a couple of times a year.

"Send him in," Laura said as she pulled a dress over her head and smoothed it down her body. "And bring us coffee."

Laura was stepping into a modest pair of heels and combing her hair with her extended fingers when Marcus entered. She slowed her beautifying at the sight of him, only now recalling how good looking a man he was. She took a moment to admire him, uncaring of whether or not he might think she ogling his looks as opposed to simply contemplating his presence.

"What can I do for you, Detective?" Laura asked. At that moment, Connie entered with a tray containing a carafe of coffee, two mugs, and all the necessaries. She gestured to the chair opposite her desk, then told the PA, "Thank you, Connie. Please..."

She meant please close the door on your way out, but the PA understood the nod of her boss's head. Laura sat and waited for what she assumed would be just a new round of corrupt bullshit.

 

[Gabe619]

"I heard what happened .... I'm sorry, Ma'am. I hope no further action will be taken against you. We can't afford to lose DA's like you." Cole remarked as he poured himself some coffee and some for Shovelli too. "Cream? Sugar?" He asked her with a smile.

Despite her hours in a jail cell she was still a stunning woman and he knew many crooks had gone to prison because they assumed she was just a pretty face. They failed to take into account how hard the woman had worked to get where she was right now. Placing her coffee before her, Marcus took the seat she had gestured to and relaxed a little. He had noticed her looking him over, she wouldn't be the first woman to do so and he enjoyed it, of course the reason she had looked him over was still a mystery. Did she like what she saw, or was she contemplating whether her day had been bad enough and just kick him out of her office? He decided to get to the point. He waved the folder gently in the air and placed it on her desk.

"Senator Davis, you've been a few rounds with him and he always got away. How would you like to bury him once and for all?" He asked as he settled back in the chair and crossed his legs as he clasped his hands over his stomach. "That folder contains the start of an investigation I have begun, off the books. I think you'll see a few details their that you didn't have access too the last time he was in a courtroom with you. I can get more. I can give you a slam-dunk case in time." His eyes met hers. "I know you have no reason to trust me, or any cop as they keep fucking up in your cases, but I want you to try and look beyond that for now and give me the benefit of the doubt."

 

[PennySaver]

"I heard what happened," Marcus began. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

Laura didn't react. She didn't believe him. Why would she? Lately, it seemed as though she was fighting the cops more than the criminals.

"I hope no further action will be taken against you," he continued. "We can't afford to lose DA's like you."

"Not my first time behind bars," she mumbled, still studying the man, trying to figure him out. She didn't clarify the comment by explaining that she'd had some troubles as a youth, troubles that were still concealed per juvenile offender rules.

"Cream? Sugar?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to say No thank you, I like my coffee like I like my men ... strong. Instead, she simply shook her head gently.

He spoke of Senator Davis, and Laura couldn't help but smirk a bit, particularly when he asked, "How would you like to bury him once and for all?"

She'd been trying to put Davis in jail even before he'd become State Senator Davis. He'd been crooked as a businessman, then as an Alderman, then as Assistant to the Mayor. He'd gained the nickname Teflon Rick; Rick was previously a nickname, a more preferred version of his given name of Eric, one that he reserved mostly for the women he fucked regardless of their marital relationship to other men or how they made their money, aka prostitution.

Marcus presented her with a folder. Laura didn't immediately pick it up. She still didn't know whether she could trust him. For all she knew, the folder was full of cash or untraceable bearer bonds and he was wearing a hidden camera to gather incriminating evidence against her.

Laura was prepared for this, though. She, like Marcus, had recently hired an electronics expert off book. He'd wired her office so that she would know if she was being bugged without even having to perform a sweep. But even more importantly at this moment, she had a button under her desk that, when pressed, blocked all outgoing electronic signals.

She activated it with a hand inconspicuously slipped downward over her thigh and only then picked up the file. She began by skimming the information, certain that it would have nothing new and/or of value. But it didn't take long to begin to realize what was in front of her.

Laura stood, turned to her window -- bullet proofed, recently -- and perused more intently. She turned page after page, amazed at what she was seeing. She turned to look at Marcus.

"I can get more," he reassured her. "I can give you a slam-dunk case in time."

"How can I..." she began, going silent instead as she considered her question.

"I know you have no reason to trust me..." he said, anticipating what Laura had been about to say. He spoke about cops fucking up her cases, asking, "...give me the benefit of the doubt."

She looked back to the folder again, read more, looked up, then said, "I need to meet this woman ... this Camille Carlton."

Laura moved closer to her desk again, looking down onto the Detective. She realized suddenly that her heart was pounding faster and harder. Could this really be happening? Could this man really be handing her the evidence she needed to finally put Davis behind bars?

"Can I keep this? Is this a copy?" she asked, indicating the folder. "I'm assuming that this is a between you and me situation?"

He answered. Laura's lips spread in a pleased smirk. She was so tickled with just the possibility of what Marcus was presenting her that she was ready to rip off her clothes and fuck him right here on her desk. Winning cases, big cases, had a way of making her wet and anxious for action down yonder. Laura couldn't help but want this to be absolutely right on the nose.

Then, smiling wider, Laura asked, "What do you need from my office? Name it. You can have anything."

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus had enjoyed watching her change from a Pissed off and distrustful person to a happy, smiling beautiful woman who was looking at him as though he were a snack she just wanted to devour, not that he would put up a struggle if she did he considered.

An hour later he walked out of her office with written authority to recruit whomever he needed from the police force to join his team. She hadn't really asked to many direct questions, probably smart enough to know that this early in their relationship it was best to keep things open and see what he could bring her. Now he had the power to go get Kennedy and Yarrow, he decided to first go after the final two people he wanted for his team.

Devon McCauley was a retired police officer. He was 55 and in his long history with the PD he had been a rising star who many pegged to be the new Police Commissioner some day. The death of his wife and child had put a stop to any plans he had for such a future. Marcus had been a rookie when it happened, but news got around the city police precincts fast. He was a hero to many of the newer generation of cops just hitting the street, an icon of what they aspired to be. Cole had only laid eyes on him once, about eight years back. McCauley had been arrested for trespassing and public disturbance and Cole's cruiser had been first on the scene.

It seemed McCauley had broken into the home of Golan Zepastos, a Russian under boss, with the intention of killing the man. Now the death of Zepastos would have been a loss to no one, the man was an animal, but McCauley had been drunk and it had taken all of Cole's considerable talent at negotiations to stop the Russian's just shooting the guy dead on the front porch. Other units arrived and Devon was driven away and that was the last Cole saw of him, but not the last Cole heard of him.

Curious why a man like McCauley would do such a thing Marcus had made subtle enquiries. It seemed the loss of the mans family hadn't been to an accident, but rather them getting into the middle of a running shootout between some of Zepastos's goons and some from one of the Italian families. Devon's family had just been a statistic, or so he had seen it as the city seemed to care not at all that so many had died that day, so many innocents. So he had retired from the force, swearing that he would one day get his revenge for the loss of his wife and daughter. After that he had slipped into obscurity, but Marcus knew where to find him.

The garage was pretty beat up and rundown, outside were a couple of old cars, the two big double doors were open and from inside came the sound of a heavy grinder at work. Cole pulled his car to a stop outside and slipped out. He licked his lips, a little nervous. This could go bad real fast, but he had to try, what McCauley knew about the gangs of the city you couldn't find in reports, the man had lived it, fighting organised crime, the majority of his life in uniform and now Marcus needed his expertise. Stepping inside the garage he waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness then saw a man bent over an old Corvette grinding into it. Cole walked over and shouted hello, the man ignored him, so Cole shouted again. Finally the grinding stopped and the man stood up, his black faceplate prevented Marcus from seeing his face though his body was stocky and muscular.

"What do you want, kid?" Came a muffled voice from behind the mask.

"I'm looking for Devon McCauley?"

"Never heard of him." The man bent over the car and began grinding again.

Cole walked up and tapped him on the arm making him stop and stand up again.

"You're starting to annoy me, kid, I told you the guy you want ain't here, now beat it, unless you want some work done on that car of yours." The man pointed at Cole's mustang sitting outside.

"I know he owns this workshop, so why don't you cut the bullshit and just tell me where he is." Marcus answered in an annoyed tone of voice, not in the mood for games.

The man paused and seemed to be scrutinising Cole from behind the faceplate of his welding helmet. "Tell you what, I'll make a deal with you. You tell me about this car, its specs, and if you are right I'll tell you where McCauley is."

Marcus stepped back and looked the car over, he took his time as the man stood next to him like a statue. "It's ok to say you don't know, I won't ...."

"1965 Corvette Stingray, 327 V8 engine, around 300 brake horsepower, four speed manual transmission and I think the color is Nassau Blue." Cole stated interrupting him.

Around a minute of silence elapsed before the man flicked up his face plate to reveal the grizzled face of Devon McCauley beneath. He took the welding helmet it off and put it aside, then the heavy gloves before turning back to Marcus and looking him over. Cole held out his hand.

"I'm Detective Marcus ..."

"Cole, I never forget a face, though your were patrolman Cole the day we met. Seems you know your cars, Cole, that wins you points. Now tell me why you're bothering me."

Marcus laid it all out, the entire plan. Going half way with this man wouldn't do, he needed to know it all up front or else he would never join the team. When Cole was finished McCauley looked at him as though he had just climbed from the primeval swamp.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, kid? You believed that line she fed you?! Are you seriously that stupid?!" He moved into Cole's face and jabbed him in the chest. "Free advice kid, from someone who knows what these gutter rats are really like. They use you then throw you away. You are a tool to this ... this Emelia D'Angelo. She used her wiles on you, I seen the girl, she's a stunner, but she is no better than her old man and if he is dead or dying I say Grim Reaper come get the bastard! He's over do for his appointment in hell."

Devon turned his back on Cole and begun to put his gloves back on. "Now get the fuck out of my workshop, kid."

"Don't you get what's on offer here?!" Marcus shouted, seriously pissed now, especially at the way McCauley had described Emelia. "We can end them all, not just for now, but forever. Bring down Organised Crime in this city and save hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent lives. Lives like your family .."

He never finished as McCauley spun and punched him in the face with such force Cole hit the ground hard, dazed. McCauley stood over him, hands curled into fists.

"Don't you ever mention my family again, you hear me!! Get it into your thick head, kid, even if her plan worked, which it won't, and even if you and this team your putting together survive, which you won't it, doesn't change anything. Ok, you take down the Russians, the Italians, the Triad and all the others, don't you think within a month or two they will just come right back, moving new people into place? You don't KNOW these people like I do!"

Cole slowly pushed himself up on one elbow, dabbing at his split lip and looking at the blood on his fingers, then up at McCauley. All his anger had bled away.

"No, I don't, but you do. We need you, McCauley, the people of this city need you, but if your to afraid to leave your garage and face reality again then fine, you stay here and rot for all I care." He stood up and worked his jaw, the man had a serious punch on him. "You used to mean something to people like me, cops just starting out. We looked up to you. I know what happened would break any man, I get that, you lost everything." Marcus took a single step forward and lowered his voice. "But I'm offering you a way back. So you can mean something once again and make everything you went through mean something."

He pulled one of his business cards from his pocket and placed it on the Corvette.

"If you decide to come back to the real world give me a call." With that he turned and left.

 

[PennySaver]

Jennifer Kennedy was in a good mood, figuratively floating on the air. She'd graduated the academy two weeks ago, and since then each day on the job had been better than the previous one. She and her Training Officer, who was a legend in the Department after 20 years of spectacular service, had responded to dozens of different types of calls. Jennifer had packed more experiences into a mere 120 hours than many Rookies would field in six months.

Her TO had expected great things out of her for good reason. Jennifer had graduated at the top of her class. Well, she was #1 for the female candidates. Overall, she'd finished 3rd. Her class had included two Greek Gods, both of them former Special Forces.

Jennifer stood a mere 5'6" and weighed an equally mere 135 pounds. She hadn't been able to compete with them physically, even though she had in fact taken one of the monsters down to the mats during Self Defense Training. That had gained her the nickname King Killer and her prey the nickname Ken Doll, in reference to Barbie's beau who had nothing between his plastic legs.

She'd edged out all of her Class's men in the mental tests and 9 out of 10 gun range exercises. But it was still a Man's World, and the scoring was still tilted toward the physical. So, she pretended to be happy with third and moved on.

Today, though, Jennifer was going to experience something she wouldn't have expected and, honestly, would have preferred to avoid. She was heading for the register at her local bodega when she found herself looking down the barrel of a .357 revolver.

Jennifer was in her street clothes, with her badge in her jacket's pocket and her weapon out of sight on her hip. If you didn't know her personally, you wouldn't have guessed she was a cop. She froze in place, not out of fear but because she knew that not being a threat meant she and the owner might get out of this alive.

She looked for the owner but didn't see him. She presumed, correctly as it was, that he was on the floor behind the counter knocked out or otherwise out of commission.

As the first thug kept his attention and gun on Jennifer, the second tried without success to get the register open with a small pry bar. Deciding upon a plan of action, Jennifer said, "That's not where the money it."

She nodded her head toward the wall behind the man, to a safe with a slot and a dispenser. She told them, "They deposit any bill larger than a ten as soon as it's given to them ... and they can only take out change in $10 increments or smaller every 30 minutes."

She looked between the men for some sort of understanding of the situation. "What I'm saying is there's no cash in the register, and unless you want to hang out here and get rolls of dimes every half hour..."

Jennifer finally saw understanding in the thugs' eyes. She nodded toward a secured case and said, "But there's probably ten grand in Vaping crap in that. I can help you get it out if you'll give me a share."

The men agreed. She looked expectantly at the guy who still had a gun on her. He lowered it, and she moved forward to set her food and other products on the counter. She nodded the man behind the counter toward the case's lock, asking, "Do you think a screwdriver will fit in that key hole?"

As soon as the man turned away, Jennifer lifted a can of non-stick cooking spray and sprayed the nearer man right in the eyes. He screamed out in a combination of pain and surprise. She spun quickly and pointed her gun at the other thug.

But she wasn't aiming to kill him. Despite her training, she aimed not at center mass but at the man'd gun hand, pulling the trigger. The bullet went through the back of his hand and split the wooden handle of his big revolver, causing him to drop it.

With number two disarmed, Jennifer stepped out from the counter and performed a perfect round kick, barely clearing the displays surrounding her. He foot connected solidly with the man's jaw, dislocating it and knocking out two of the teeth set in it. The man dropped to the ground like a sack of dirty laundry.

She secured both weapons and cuffed the shot man to a security bar, then called 9-1-1 for a radio car. They arrived less than two minutes later to take her statement and then take the two thugs to the hospital for treatment of what she'd done to them.

Before she could leave the scene, though, another one of her Academy mates, Teddy Yarrow -- who'd responded to the scene -- stepped over and said, "Someone wants to talk to you."

"Who?" she asked, looking around. He nodded toward a man standing on the other side of the street in the shadows of a giant elm. She studied him a moment, asking, "Who is he?"

"I don't know," Teddy responded. "All I know is he flashed me a gold badge and told me to come get you."

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus had been trailing Jennifer most of the day, watching her work and then watching her out of uniform. He wasn't stalking the gorgeous young woman he kept telling himself, though the view was spectacular, he was interested in how she behaved, how she treated people, how she responded to situations. The files he had read on their training only went so far. Numbers, scores, grades, that might be good enough at High School, but it told you really nothing about a person who had joined the police force. The psych profile had been of more interest. According to the department shrink Kennedy was level headed, hard to catch out, quick to make a decision and stick to it. Good factors in any police officer. Now as he stood across the street having watched her take down the two robbers he saw his other candidate, Teddy Yarrow arrive with his TO. Having waved the young man over, and Christ, the kid looked like he should be in High School not patrolling the streets, he had told him to gather up Jennifer and then both come back to him.

As Teddy had wandered off Cole had chatted with the young mans TO, getting the low down on him straight from the horses mouth as it were. The TO thought the kid had good instincts, could read people quick and accurately and if he had any issues it was probably that he tended to rush into danger before assessing it completely, sure of his take on the scene. The TO explained she had had to reprimand Teddy twice for that, though neither situation had been particularly threatening they could of escalated into that if he had put a foot wrong. Luckily he hadn't and Teddy had read the situation accurately. Still, eventually a person could become to sure of themselves when that always trusted their gut over taking a breath and checking out the options.

Marcus saw Kennedy and Yarrow approaching him and smiled, showing his detectives badge to the young lady before putting it back on his belt.

"Nice take down in there, Kennedy. Quick and sure, but a couple of pieces of advise? The shot to the gun hand disarmed your perp, but it isn't always a sure thing. We train you to hit centre mass because 9/10 trying to shoot to disarm you miss your target and give them the chance to get off a shot. Better to hit him and take him down than risk it. Of course you had a point blank shot there and going by your shooting scores if you had missed we would have seen a squadron of pink elephants flying by. The other piece of advise? Your kick, it just missed the displays in the store. You were in close quarters, a kick like that needs room. What if you had hit the displays and got tangled up? He could of shot you by the time you got out. Next time just go for the tried and true and kick him in the nuts. Believe me, that will gain his undivided attention for the foreseeable future."

Teddy who had been listening shrugged and nodded as he looked at Kennedy.

"He's got a point, that really does centre your thoughts, Jen."

 

[PennySaver]

"Nice take down in there, Kennedy," the stranger with the gold shield said. "Quick and sure, but a couple of pieces of advice?"

Jennifer grit her teeth and shook her head almost imperceptibly. He might as well have started with No offense intended, but. Everyone knew that when someone said no offense intended, they were about to offend you. He talked about her choice of shooting the man in the hand, as opposed to his chest. Then he criticized her choice of round kick.

She didn't immediately respond. She didn't know who this guy was. For all she knew, he was the new Police Commissioner. Or a recruiter with the FBI. The latter was closer than the first, but not accurate, of course. Her response when it came was calm: "Who are you? And why did you hail me?"

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus smiled at her reaction to his advice. He would probably have responded the same at her age. When you're young you know everything and anyone who says different is just plain wrong, no matter they have many years experience.

"My name is Detective Marcus Cole, and I'm looking for a few good men, or women as the case may be." He gave Kennedy a friendly smile. "I've been tasked to put together a small squad of people and you two have been pointed out as being at the top of your graduating class. You, and Officer Yarrow here. So, if its not to much of a burden to you both, I'd like to take you to lunch and you can hear my offer, no strings. If you don't like it your TO will pick you up and you can go back to your patrol. Now, if you will follow me, please."

He waved to Yarrow's TO who waved back, having already ok'ed Cole borrowing the young man for an hour. Putting them in his Mustang he drove off until he found, what he considered to be, the best hotdog stand in the city. After buying lunch for them all he led them to a quiet enclosure off the main street facing the river and surrounded by trees. It was a good place to chat and not be overheard and if anyone happened to be lurking around they would stand out. Cole waited till they were seated at one of the wooden tables and then started in.

"You two have both recently taken an oath to protect and serve the people of this city. You're both young and no doubt idealistic, your future is golden and you can do anything." He smiled at them both and chuckled. "It's ok to feel like that, so did I when I joined the Marines. But life has a way of crushing your idealism, this city will do that to you eventually. You start off with the best intentions, that's why you joined the police, right? But as time goes on you start to see the cracks. Cops you know taking pay offs. Lawyers dropping the ball in court to let murders go free. You either continue fighting the good fight, or you buckle under and either leave the Force or start taking bribes yourself. This city is not run by the councillors or the even the Mayor, its run by the crime families. You already probably heard of some during your training. They have this city in their hand, paying the right people or killing those who stand in their way." He was watching their expressions as he spoke. Yarrow seemed to be focusing deeply on what Marcus was saying, but he couldn't read Kennedy.

"But what if I told you that there was a way to bring organised crime down, for good. Take out all the families and clean up the city. What would you say?"

"That you'd been drinking a little to much ... Sir?" Yarrow offered.

Cole chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, it does sound like that doesn't it. But what I am offering you is real, tangible. If we succeed your careers will be made for you before you even start, but I won't lie to you. It's incredibly dangerous, you stand a good chance of being killed during this. You're both young, you have a lot to live for, you can say no and nothing more will be said. But if you say yes, you will be working for me and no one else. My authority comes from DA Shovelli, but you work under me and only me. You report to me, I report to her. You tell no one else what you are doing, not even your families. As far as they know your still on the streets. As far as official records go, you are being seconded to an unofficial undercover training school for a few months so no one will think twice if someone you know spots you around town." He gave them a few seconds to take it all in. "I will need your answers as soon as possible, now would be good." He smiled at them.

 

[PennySaver]

Marcus introduced himself and began describing his purpose for pulling them away for this conversation. Jennifer didn't mind going along for now. The hotdogs he bought them were in fact very good, so the worst that was going to come from it was that she got a free meal.

She was surprised to learn that Marcus knew so much about her and Teddy. They were nobodies in the Department, other than having both graduated so high in their Academy Class. But that wasn't something the typical OCB Detective knew anything about.

"You're both young and no doubt idealistic," he went on, "your future is golden, and you can do anything."

Marcus was right about that, too. Jennifer had joined the Department with high hopes of advancement. Her father had been a cop, spending his entire 20 years in uniform, on the streets and later -- after taking a bullet in the hip -- as a Desk Sergeant for the very Precinct to which she'd been assigned.

She'd been very proud of him, but Jennifer had no intentions of wearing Blue her entire career. She was going to make Detective in less than 6 years. She was going to make Sergeant, get her gold shield, and make Squad Leader in less than 12. After that it would be Lieutenant, Captain, Inspector, Deputy Chief, Bureau chief ... and finally Chief of Department.

After that was the world of politics: Mayor, State Legislator, Governor, Senator and, finally, President of the United States. Yeah, she'd actually thought that far ahead.

When Marcus began talking about corruption and organized crime, Jennifer's jaws clenched, and a chill ran up her spine. Her father had warned her about dirty cops even before she'd decided to become a cop herself. He believed to this day that the shooting that had taken him off the streets and led to his early retirement had been the result of a bad cop tipping off the targets of the sting on which he'd been working for months.

Marcus went on, "If we succeed, your careers will be made for you before you even start..."

That, of course, was music to Jennifer's ears. If what Marcus was saying was true, she could shave half a dozen years or more off her climb up the City's Police Department ladder. And that only got her to Chief Executive of the United States of America sooner, too.

Marcus warned them about the danger, saying, "...you stand a good chance of being killed during this."

Jennifer knew the risks, of course. Not only had her father suffered a disabling injury, but her Uncle Jerry had been killed on the job, and his son, Timothy, who'd joined the DEA, had disappeared while on a drug bust, never to be seen again.

"I will need your answers as soon as possible," Marcus said, adding, "now would be good--"

"I'm in," Jennifer said almost before Marcus finished talking. "I'm in ... but ... I have stipulations."

She stood to dispose of her lunch trash in a nearby can. Actually, she was contemplating how much she might be able to get out of Marcus without pushing him too far. Turning back, Jennifer said, "First ... I want to carry a Beretta ... specifically a 92FS."

She lifted her jacket and turned a bit to her left to show Marcus the Glock on her hip. "This thing's an accident waiting to happen. The 92FS has the best record for jamming ... and the last thing I want is to someday pull my weapon, take a single shot, and find myself having to unjam it while the bad guys are riddling me with bullets."

Jennifer started closing the distance between the two of them as she continued, "Second ... I want to bring Kitty in, too." She looked to Teddy, saying, "You know her. You know how good she is."

The woman about whom Jennifer was talking was actually named Zhang Yuqi, but she'd gained the nickname Kitty during some wilder days as a young adult. Yes, there was a story behind that, but Jennifer wasn't about to tell Marcus that here and now.

She looked back to him. "Kitty was in our class but dropped out because of a family emergency. Her father was dying, and he had no other family to care for him. She would have finished top of the class right along with the two of us. I don't know how you do it, but ... you get her a badge."

Jennifer smirked playfully as she continued, "And third ... I want a really good nickname ... a call sign ... like pilots have. I don't know what yet, but ... I'll figure it out eventually."

She was standing within arms reach of Marcus now, and she stuck her hand out to him, saying, "You give me those ... and I give you my promise: I'll be the best organized crime fighter you could ever want."

 

[Gabe619]

Cole took her hand with a smile. "You know your guns, good, I was told you did. A 92FS is a good choice, used to have one in the Marines, still do at home. As to your friend ... let me look into it, ok? I can't promise anything now, but if she checks out then I'll add her to the team. She can still work for me without a badge, a DA investigator doesn't have to be a serving police officer. However if she wants to join the Force again, I am sure we can pull some strings. A call sign? You do know that pilots don't pick their own call signs, right? That their colleagues do?" He turned to Teddy with a raised eyebrow. "You know her better than me, Teddy, did she have a nick name in training?"

Yarrow rubbed a hand over his face trying not to smile. "She had a few, all good by the way. Let me think on it?"

Marcus shrugged. "OK, so what's your answer Mr. Yarrow, you in or not, or do you need more time to think on that too?"

"Oh, no, I'm in. Who else would watch Jen's back." The young man laughed as he too shook Cole's hand and winked at Kennedy.

"Ok then, good. If you wondered why I picked two rookies, its because I know I can trust you both to do the right thing. The rot in the police force is pretty bad, you never know who you can trust. The scum who broke their oaths to defend this city are no better than the criminals in my eyes and I need you both to know that in the work ahead of us you might be required to shoot, even kill, fellow officers. Be prepared for that." He reached into a pocket and brought out a slip of paper which he handed to Jennifer. "Meet me at this address, midday two days from now. But from this moment on you are working for me. Yarrow, I hope you have some civvies to wear that don't stand out, the idea is to blend in, like Kennedy does."

Marcus chuckled as the man blushed slightly. To be honest Cole figured it was impossible for Jennifer Kennedy to blend in anywhere with her looks, but they would have to try.

"Don't worry about equipment and weapons, they will be supplied to you later, including the 92FS, Ms. Kennedy." He looked at them both, nodded as if having finally made a decision. "I'll see you in two days, don't be late."

With that he turned and left. He had one final spot on the team to fill. They would need a tech guy. There were some ex-cons he knew with the right skill set, but could he trust them? Finding legitimate hackers was an oxymoron in itself. But he had to find one somewhere. These days tech was everything, from hacking servers, to tracing IP's, to security and spying. He didn't have that skill set. He felt his phone buzz and pulled it from his back pocket. A message had appeared.

"I know what you need, I want to support you and Ms. D'Angelo. Meet me at the corner of Peterson and Medley at 1am. Come alone."

Cole read the message again, a chill running down his spine. Even before they had started someone knew what he and Emelia were doing?! How was that possible? They had taken so many precautions. He looked around, suddenly feeling he was being watched, but no one stood out on the street. He had no choice, he would have to be there at 1am, he had to know who this person was.

 

[Gabe619]

There was a chill in the air as Marcus pulled over at the corner he had been told to come to. 1am, the city slept, for the most part. He got out and looked around. This part of town was mostly made up of disused warehouses and run down Redstone buildings that had once been offices. It was quiet too, almost unsettlingly quiet. He looked up and down the streets that crossed here, no cars, just streetlights and abandoned buildings. He noticed a homeless person wrapped up in old blankets sitting in a doorway watching him. He couldn't see a face though, the hoody was pulled to far forward. Ignoring them Cole rested back against the front fender of his mustang and sighed. He would have thought it had all been a hoax if the person hadn't mentioned Emelia. He would just have to wait and see how this played out.

"I thought detectives were supposed to be observant."

The voice came from behind him, Cole spun, his gun jumping into his hand to point at the homeless person who now stood on the other side of the car watching him. How the hell had they moved to quickly and so quietly he wondered. The person cocked its head, looking at the gun.

"You won't need that, Detective Cole. If I were a danger to you I would have told all the corrupt cops in your office what you and the lovely Ms. D'Angelo were going to do. I would give your life expectancy after that about ... oh, two to three hours?" There was an amused tone to the voice now as the person reached up and pushed back the hoody showing a younger man, maybe late 20's, early 30's, he had one of those faces that were hard to date. A black baseball cap sat low on his head, the peak shadowing his eyes.

"Who are you?" Cole asked, not putting his gun away.

The man shrugged. "What are names? Just labels really. I have many names, are any of them really me?"

"Enough with the metaphysical bullshit, I want straight answers. How do you know what I and Ms. D'Angelo are planning."

"Because I look, and listen, and learn. A failing skill in today society." The man sighed, as if disappointed in Marcus somehow. "If you want a name then call me Mephisto."

"Your a devil?" Marcus asked with a snorting laugh.

"No, not a devil. But as the name implies I do not like the light of day. I prefer to work in the dark. I am a ... dealer, in information, secrets, desires, wants and needs. And when in the mood I can be quite benevolent, as I am right now. I know of the little team you are putting together, I know what your quest entails, I know the dangers you face and the enemies you will make. To put it bluntly, Detective Cole, you need me."

"And how much does your help cost?" Marcus asked finally lowering his gun and holstering it.

Now it was Mephisto's turn to snort. "Money? I don't need your money, Cole. No, I will do this for the challenge and because it is the right thing to do. In my time I have done many things I cannot make right. I have worked for men so evil the devil himself wouldn't claim their souls. So I decided to leave that life and those men behind me. I turned the page. They hunt me still of course, afraid I will tell others of the secrets I carry, but I can stay one, two, a dozen steps ahead of their amateur attempts to locate me. So the question is, will you accept my help."

"There is no doubt I need someone with your obvious skill set. If you found out about what me and Ms. D'Angelo are planning you will be a great asset. So yes, I accept your help." Marcus looked around at the empty streets then turned back to Mephisto .... only he was gone.

Marcus turned every which way but the man had simply vanished, in seconds. What the hell were they getting into he wondered.

 

[PennySaver]

Kylie Parker was having a bad night. Actually, she was having a bad month ... a bad year ... fuck, a bad life.

She'd joined the Police Department 10 years ago after failing out of college. She'd barely survived the Academy. Somehow, she'd made Detective quickly. It might have had something to do with all the favors she'd done for her superiors, of which blowjobs and quickies in the back of squad cars had sometimes been included.

She'd found herself in Narcotics, where she'd developed a bad cocaine habit. That habit continued to plague her at times now only because she knew a guy who knew a guy who could falsify her piss tests. Somewhere along the line, Kylie had developed another bad habit: gambling.

Tonight, Kylie had been sitting at a Texas Hold'em table in an underground gambling hall for the better part of six hours. She'd come in with $5,000 of dirty money she'd taken off a gang banger earlier in the day without reporting it. She'd lost it in under an hour, borrowed another $10,000 from the gambling hall's loan shark, lost it, and borrowed yet another $20,000.

The Manager of the Hall was more than willing to offer Kylie the credit. She was a Detective in Narcotics, which meant that if she couldn't pay them back in cash, they could always milk her for information. Kylie's need to win at cards was greater than her hesitance at giving criminals information about police activities.

She'd won a couple of big pots and got to feeling lucky. Holding pocket Aces, she flopped three of a kind. The turn was a jack, which paired another jack that been in the flop. She had a full house.

On a big pot like this, she would have been lucky to get one caller, maybe two. Kylie had four. When the river card came out, she was staring at a pot that was well over $140,000. She turned her cards over, smiling wide as she proclaimed, "Aces full."

The next two players mucked their hands, but the third turned his over and softly announced, "Quad jacks." Kylie's smile disappeared and her eyes bulged in shock. The man hadn't played the pre-flop or flop to indicate pocket fishhooks.

She mucked her cards without showing them and stood to leave. Kylie got only two steps from the table before she was met by two massive men in suits with bulges under their arms. A third man politely asked, "Miss Parker, can you come with us please. Someone wants to have a word with you."

She sat at a little table in a backroom alone for what seemed like forever but was actually less than an hour. Then, a fourth man came in, sat across from her, and informed her in a soft voice, "You owe us $120,000."

"No!" she objected. "I only borrowed 30."

The man casually lifted an index finger to indicate a desire for silence from her. Calmly, he explained, "You borrowed $30,000 tonight with a vig of 10. That's 40. We also bought your debt from Lenny Langston. That's another 30, plus a vig of 10."

"That 30 already included the vig!" Kylie again cut in.

Again, the raised finger silenced her. He explained, "When a debt is transferred..."

He didn't need to say more for her to understand. Kylie did, however, point out, "That's only 40."

"We are in the process of purchasing your debt from Yanni Rikov," he explained. He asked politely, "Do we need to discuss the math, or...?"

Kylie remained quiet this time. She was trembling down to the core, uncertain of where this was going yet knowing it wasn't going anywhere she wanted to be. Her heart skipped a beat when the man set a small, 5-shot, .38 Special revolver on the table before her, along with a photocopy of a mug shot.

"This man will be emerging from this very gambling hall in about 10 minutes," he began. "He's cashing out as we speak, and once he's finished bragging about how well he did tonight, he will head for a Towncar parked on the next block over. You will be waiting in the shadows, and when he reaches the car, you will put all five rounds in him ... two center mass to bring him down ... and the last three in different parts of his face so that his family cannot provide him with an open coffin burial.

"He's walking out of here with over a hundred grand," the man continued. "You'll take it, and tomorrow you will come back here with the money and the gun. You will give them to me, and your debt to us will be paid." He hesitated, then asked, "Any questions?"

By the time he finished, Kylie thought she was going to puke. She wasn't the best cop on the force, obviously. She'd done illegal things to cover her failings at the poker tables and at life in general. But kill a man? She didn't think she was ready for that. She didn't think she was that person.

"If you can't do this for us, please tell me now," the man went on, "You can leave now ... and ... we'll find some other way for you to pay your debt." He cocked his head, then asked, "How's your sister doing these days? The one in Des Moines. I hear she's an incredibly good-looking woman ... a model ... department store cosmetic advertisements or something like that...? I wonder: will she be able to do that kind of work missing an eye?"

Kylie's blood began to boil, and she looked down at the gun with the idea of grabbing it and shooting this man right in the face. But she knew that that wouldn't save either her sister or herself. She considered her options for a long moment, then said only, "No ... no questions."

The man pushed the gun closer to her before standing, turning, and leaving. Kylie stared at the gun for a long moment more, then picked it up and stood. She checked it, finding it fully loaded. She pocketed the gun, left the basement and club, walked a round-about route to the shadows of which she'd been told, and waited.

The man had said that her target was due out in just minutes, and yet almost half an hour later Kylie was still waiting. A thousand times she'd told herself that she couldn't do this, and a thousand times more she'd thought of her sister and told herself she had to.

Finally, a man emerged from the alley that she herself had come from earlier and headed across the empty street for the indicated car. Again, she told herself she couldn't do this. She was a cop! She was a Detective! She was one of the good guys!

And yet, when the man was reaching the car and pulling out his keys, Kylie suddenly found herself emerging quickly from the shadows, leveling the gun at the man's chest, and pulling the trigger ... only to hear the hammer click down without effect. Her eyes widened in shock, and quickly she pulled the trigger once, twice, three times. She flipped the cylinder out to once again check for rounds, forgetting that she'd already checked it once before.

Looking up at the man with panic in her eyes, she found him standing there with a knowing expression on his face. He seemed neither surprised at being ambushed nor having had the trigger of a gun pulled at him.

A moment later, the rear door of the sedan opened, and a woman stepped out. Kylie didn't immediately recognize her in the limited illumination of a single streetlamp. The woman said, "Detective Parker ... we should talk." Moving farther from the car and gesturing toward the open door, she said, "Why don't you come sit with me."

Kylie suddenly realized who the woman was: Emelia D'Angelo, daughter of one of the most powerful and dangerous crime family bosses in the City. Kylie looked from Emelia to the man, who she would come to know as Philip. He now had a gun hanging at his side.

Knowing that she'd been set up and likely had little choice now, Kylie made her way to the open car door and slid inside...

 

[Gabe619]

Cole drove up to the street corner he had given Yarrow and Kennedy the other day. They were waiting in civilian clothing, chatting and laughing about something, and standing with them was a petite, but very cute Asian girl. Zhang Yuqi according to the file he had pulled. Kennedy had been right in her assessment of the girl. Top marks across the board until she left. Her trainers had been sad to see her go it seems, they had pegged her as a rising star in the force. But Marcus could understand. Not matter what your dreams might be, family came first, always. The fact she had resigned to take care of her father only won her points in Marcus's book.

They all clambered into his car and off they went. Thirty minutes later Cole pulled into the slopping entrance to the underground car park at the hideout. He used his electronic card to enter, pausing between the metal gates as one closed and the other opened, then parked close to the stairwell. They had been curious before, but now the three rookies were obviously razor focused making Cole smile as he led them up the stairs and along to the decrepit front door.

"Here we are." He announced with a grin.

Yarrow and Kennedy shared a look. "Where? Roach central?" Teddy joked getting a laugh from the girls. "If we check in do we get to leave again?"

"Lets find out." Marcus smirked.

He used the key Philip had given him to open the first heavy metal door and led them inside. Their attitude changed immediately. Teddy gave an appreciative whistle and a nod as he started sticking his head in cupboards and doorways.

"Nice, does it come with a water bed?" He asked looking into Cole's bedroom.

"That's my room, rookie." Marcus laughed and pointed to the bigger secondary bedroom. "If you sleep here you can pick a bunk. I'll leave it to you all to fight for who gets top and bottom."

Cole leaned against the back of a large comfortable couch as he let them all explore, finally they all came back to the living area. He held out three keys and handed one to each of them.

"Do NOT copy these. If you loose one let me know immediately. You all drive so here are the key cards you need to get into the garage, same goes for them. If you loose it tell me. This will be our base of operations. Everything begins and ends here. We plan what we do, we go do what we do, then we return to base. You do not go home after an operation, you do not stop for take out, you come back here. We debrief and then, and only then, can you do whatever you want. Is that clear?"

"Kennedy, I hear you're the gun girl in this little posse, I have a surprise for you." Marcus walked over to another door with a keypad on the wall next to it. The door itself looked normal, but was just like the front door, a heavy metal security door. It would take hours for someone to cut through it. Tapping in the code and making sure Jennifer saw what it was, Marcus pulled the door open and stepped inside.

Lights flickered on sensing his presence. The room itself was actually part of a neighbouring apartment, but as the building was empty other than themselves, Cole had asked Greg Abbot to build him an armory, much to the old mans delight. He had put in thick reinforced wall, floor and ceiling along with gun racks and equipment lockers. In the middle of the room was a long metal table they could use to prep or clean equipment. Currently it was outfitted with weapons, ammo and equipment for six people, but Marcus would add more if the need arose. He pointed to the gun racks.

"Ok, so currently we have M27 and M4A1 assault rifles, I got M320 under barrel grenade launchers too just in case." He scratched his nose and nodded to the pistols. "Beretta's, as we both agree they are the better sidearm. There are frag and flash grenades, NVG's, surveillance equipment, tac gear, basically anything I could think of. But I'd like your suggestions if you feel I left anything out."

He left Kennedy to look at the toys as he went back to the main room brushing past Teddy who was looking into the armory like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"Are we going to war?" He asked jokingly.

Cole stopped and looked at him, then at Jennifer and then at Zhang, his expression deadly serious. "Yes, that is exactly what we are going to do. Wage war on the crime families in this city and if you think it will be an easy ride or that they will fold when they feel a little heat then leave your keys and don't let the door hit you on the way out." He subsided a little, letting his shoulders relax some. "I wasn't joking when I said you could die on this operation. Zhang, I am really pleased to have you on the team, but I hope Laurel and Hardy here explained what exactly you were getting into by signing up."

 

[PennySaver]

"I'll leave it to you all to fight for who gets top and bottom," Marcus said as he showed the three new team members the room they'd be sharing on occasion.

"I get a top bunk," Jennifer said boldly without hesitation. She looked Teddy in the eyes, moved up intimately close, and with a somewhat suggestive tone said, "I like being on top ... Jumpstreet."

She smiled at his reaction, laughed, and turned away. She'd flirted with Teddy on a number of occasions during their Academy training days, knowing it had made him nervous. She'd often wondered if maybe he wasn't still a virgin. It had all been in fun, though, never with mean intentions.

Behind him, Kitty had also laughed. She'd been the one to give Teddy that nickname during the opening days of their police training. It was, of course, because of Teddy's very youthful appearance. Before she left the Academy, she'd told him that he was a shoo-in for the Department's High School undercover operations, which were aimed at uncovering drug operations, gang activity, potential active shooter threats, and more.

She didn't know whether or not Teddy had had to endure the nickname at the Academy after she'd left, but she was certain that -- with Jennifer's obvious support of it -- it would stick this time around.

Kitty's real name was Zhang Yuqi. Her nickname had followed her to the Academy from her days preceding it. There were only a handful of people who knew the story behind it, with the only here being Jennifer. Before she'd decided to be a cop, Yuqi had been a stripper, dancing by the name The Korean Kitty Kat. Her dancing name had been a misnomer, though, as she wasn't Korean at all but was Chinese. But the patrons of the clubs she danced in had been your average all-American White guys, and how many of them could really tell the difference between one Asian ethnicity and another?

The next stop was the armory. Each of the women smiled broadly at the array of weapons, armor, and other related items. As they immediately began excitedly examining the offerings, Marcus talked of the rifles they had already.

"We're going to need AK-47s, too," Kitty said. When the others looked at her, she pointed out, "The Russian and Chinese gangs like the AK. So do some of the street gangs. The AK has a distinctive look and sound even. I'm assuming that we might at times need to represent ... maybe even pop off a few rounds?"

"Machine pistols, too," Jennifer added. "Something small ... threaded barrel ends for extenders and sound suppressors ... flip-out stocks and shoulder slings. I don't really have a favorite, but some of the Families do. We should mimic them for that, too."

"RTS Tactical has a new body armor that we should check out, too," Kitty was again offering. "I mean, it sounds to me like you're possibly expecting some serious action in our future. I know a guy who knows a guy who's sleeping with another guy who works at RTS. I'm sure he can get us some advance units if I ask nicely."

She looked to Teddy, smirked devilishly, and said, "Of course, Teddy's more his type, so..."

The two women laughed at the young officer's expense again.

Teddy ignored them, instead asking Marcus jokingly, "Are we going to war?"

Cole's reaction was serious, though. "Yes, that is exactly what we are going to do."

He spoke about what was ahead of them, once again warning them of the dangers. He looked to Kitty, saying, "Zhang, I am really pleased to have you on the team, but I hope Laurel and Hardy here explained what exactly you were getting into by signing up."

"They did, sir," she said, unsure of what title she was supposed to use for him. "By the way, I, um ... I need to talk to you about something ... privately."

They went out to the other room, where she told him flatly, "I'm not carrying a badge." She gave him a moment to react if he wished, then explained. "I want to be part of this team. I think this is a worthy exercise and -- if it becomes necessary -- I'm willing to give my life for it. But I'd rather do it without the restrictions that come with a badge. I ... I thought I wanted to be a cop. I really did. But recently, after seeing some ... some real shit go down in my neighborhood ... after seeing how the cops didn't care and when they did care, the DA's office or the courts or the community didn't support them ... well, to put it plainly ... I think I can do you better not carrying a shield."

She quickly held a hand up, clarifying, "I'm not talking acting like a loose cannon. I'm just saying ... there are a lot of rules that would restrict what I can do for you as a cop. If ... if this is a game buster ... I understand, and I will step aside."

 

[Gabe619]

Cole was big enough to admit when he had missed something. He smiled as Kennedy and Kitty listed off things he had missed. The idea of using the weapons their enemies used was a very smart move. That way they sowed confusion among the enemy. If they hit the Italians with Russian weapons odds were the Italians would assume they actually had been hit by the Russians.

"I see I picked the right people." Marcus laughed to himself. "Ok, Jen, Kitty, make me a list of everything you think we need. Kitty that guy who's a friend of a friend, if you are sure you can trust him, then yes, lets get some decent body armor. Better add some shotguns too, we might need to take out a few door hinges to get into a room or building. Money isn't an issue, we are being well funded."

"By who? Santa Claus?" Teddy asked, half seriously as he started to add up the cost of everything he was seeing and everything they were putting on their Christmas list.

"Lets just say an interested party has our backs and leave it at that, hm?" Cole replied before walking with Kitty into the other room alone.

He listened to her reasons for not wanting a badge, and they were solid enough and she was right, someone who wasn't bound by the rules, regs and law could move and do things easier than the rest of them.

"You make a good argument, Kitty, but it works both ways. Yes, without a badge you can get away with doing things the rest of us can't, but, a badge can also protect you. These thugs we're going against would think twice about shooting a cop. They know if they do they would have the Fed's down on them like a ton of bricks. Shooting a person in a gun fight and finding out later they were carrying a badge is one thing, of course." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "However, it's your call. I can certainly use someone like yourself outside the law should we say? But I would also ask you to keep in mind that what we intend to do is get rid of the bad element you state are the reason you don't want to carry a badge, the corrupt police and lawyers. When this is all over I hope you would consider joining up again. We need people like you." He smiled and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"And by the way, you can call me Marcus, that goes for all of you. I don't think we need to stand on ceremony here. Believe me when I tell you that you will become closer to these people in this room during this operation than anyone you have ever known. I am speaking as a person who served in the Marines and has been on the front lines. You think these are your friends now, but trust me, when the bullets start flying they will become your brothers and sisters."

 

[PennySaver]

Kitty listened to Marcus's reasoning about carrying a badge. His reasons for doing so were just as valid as hers for not wanting to. When he finished, she slid up close to him, intimately close, giving him a flirty up and down look as she slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Well, maybe, just maybe," she began in a seductive voice, "you can supply me with a badge that I can flash if ever I need to ... you know ... to exert my official capacity and authority...?"

She smiled, pulled away, turned, and flashed something in her hand to Jennifer, who'd been watching the encounter from the bunkroom doorway. Jennifer smiled, shook her head, laughed, and then informed Marcus, "By the way, Kitty has a few skills beyond her police training that might come in handy. One of them is picking pockets."

Kitty spun back to Marcus and threw something through the air to him: it was his badge, which she'd slipped off his waist during their embrace. The beautiful woman then jingled his car keys in the air before also tossing them back. "I learned this back when I was a stripper."

She looked between the others and catching the surprised look from Jennifer, who'd already known her past, excused herself by saying, "He was going to find out eventually ... if he doesn't already know."

Kitty caught Teddy looking her way with a curious expression. She didn't know what might be going through his mind; was he trying to imagine her in a G-string with nipple tassels? She did a sexy little sway and spin, finishing with, "Ba-dum-dum".

"Knock it off," Jennifer told her, crossing toward Marcus as she returned to business. "Kitty and I will make a list. We'll have it for you tomorrow. I, um ... I hate to do this on the first day, but I have a family thing I have to get to. Don't worry, this won't happen when we're working. Do you mind?"

"I can stick around for a bit," Kitty offered.

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus was both shocked and annoyed at what Kitty did, taking his badge and keys. Shocked she was so damn good at it, annoyed he was so damn bad at realising she had taken them. He chuckled as she threw them back to him and nodded.

"Skills indeed, Kitty. I am sure all of your talents will come into play very shortly." He nodded toward Teddy who seemed rather taken with Kitty despite having come through the Academy together. "Try not to fry Teddy's brain before we need him though, ok? I think the poor boy is having distraction issues."

Teddy straightened up and scowled at everyone, though Marcus noted one hand had moved to cover his crotch, had the kid gotten hard watching Kitty's performance? If that was all it took, Yarrow might need laying fast to keep his mind on the job at hand.

"Ok, Jen, you head out, we'll see you tomorrow. I want to run through some ideas for us to get started, but its nothing that can't wait 24 hours. Kitty, if you could help out Teddy in the gun room. I'd like them checked and if necessary cleaned before we need to use them."

"Hey, I'm not a gun bunny." Teddy reacted in an annoyed tone of voice, probably still embarrassed by how he had been caught out with Kitty. Gun Bunny being the derogatory term used by cops for those who worked the gun cage at precincts where guns and equipment got cleaned and repaired. It was considered a punishment to be assigned there by most cops.

"You are if I say you are. I run a lose ship as long as everyone pulls their weight, Yarrow. Don't make me start to reconsider my choice in picking you for this team."

Teddy nodded, looking sheepish now and shrugged.

"Sorry, Boss. I was just ... distracted." The kid stated with an apologetic shrug.

"Apology accepted, and don't worry. Working around ladies this beautiful any man would be distracted. Just try to not let it happen on the job, ok?"

"You got it, Boss." He clapped his hands. "Ok then, Kitty, where do you want to start?" He turned and vanished into the armory.

 

[PennySaver]

Emelia had been expecting blowback from her muscling in on McNamara & Draper, Inc. But what happened was far worse than she'd expected.

MDI was a $50 million dollar concessions business that provided food, drink, tee shirts, giant foam fingers, and so very much more to sporting events, concerts, conventions, and many of the city's year-round tourist donations. Its size wasn't really that significant, though. In the big scheme of things, it was actually a rather modestly sized company.

What seriously made MDI significant was that each year it laundered millions of dollars of the dirty D'Amato Family money by inflating their concessions sales. The D'Amato's gave up about 6% in local, state, and federal taxes, but it was a small price to pay for having the remaining 94% clean and available for use.

By forcing MDI's owner, Henry Draper, to sell to her, Emelia had hurt the D'Amato's. She knew that they would try to hurt the D'Angelo's, in return. She'd been prepared for it. At least, she thought she had.

Draper was supposed to have packed up his family and gotten the hell out of Dodge, immediately. He had access to $10 million dollars via a Grand Caymans bank, and once the sale of MDI had gone through, he would receive another $50 million dollar.

Instead of getting his family to a safe location, though, he'd put them up in a cheap motel out at the freeway and paid a final visit to his mistress, Rosalee. Unfortunately for him, goons from the D'Amato Family got to him in between pulling his pants down and slipping on a condom.

The next day, Draper, his whore-lover, his wife, and two of his children were found in an open field outside the City, killed execution style. Both of the adult women and Draper's 12- and 14-year-old daughters had also been raped as well.

Emelia had only just gotten word when she heard of the D'Amato's second act of vengeance, the drive-by shooting of MDI's corporate offices. There were 4 fatalities, including two front office workers and two pedestrians. An additional 12 people were injured.

Without hesitation, Emelia dispatched armed D'Angelo personnel to guard all of MDI's facilities across the City. She also sent a team out to find Henry Draper's missing 19-year-old daughter, who had survived the attack on his family because she'd been staying at a friend's house that night. They found her. She was currently in a safe house.

Her next step, had she not been wanting to bring an end to violence across the City, would have been to bring the fires of hell down upon the D'Amato Family. Instead, Emelia spent time calming herself before calling Marcus Cole and telling him, "We need to meet ... now."

 

[Gabe619]

The urgency in her voice was more than enough for Cole. Making his excuses to the two rookies he got down to the garage and drove from the car park, tires screeching as he hit the street getting annoyed honks from drivers he cut up. There had been an edge to her voice he hadn't heard before. He didn't think it was fear, maybe anger? Outrage? He took a corner on almost two wheels, running a red light. Running reds didn't really matter, he had put his lights and siren on so he could break any traffic laws he wanted and could make up an excuse if anyone bothered to ask questions later. Emelia had given him the name of a little Greek restaurant firmly in D'Angelo territory. His sat nav took him right to it.

As he pulled up outside he immediately saw the increase in muscle. The usual Emelia convoy was there, but now he saw, well, thugs was the best description he could find, just lounging around the restaurant with the usual suited and booted security that followed her everywhere. He climbed from the mustang, making eyes contact with a few of the thugs who were checking him out as if he were a side of beef hanging in a shop window, but none of them made a move as he walked slowly to the entrance of the restaurant. He nodded to Emelia's driver, one face he recognised, the man nodded back, then gestured with his head to get inside quicker.

Worried now he did as suggested, meeting Philip just inside the doorway who waved him in and pointed to where Emelia sat in the back corner, flanked on two side by thick walls and far enough from the front windows not to have to worry about a drive by shooting or an explosion. Marcus walked over and took a chair opposite her. As usual when in her presence he felt his temperature rise a few degrees. She was beginning to act like a drug to him. When he was away from her he thought about her, and when in her presence he felt happy just to lay eyes on her.

"You sounded pissed on the phone, what's happened?"

 

[PennySaver]

"Pissed...?" she asked, letting loose a slight snort or dismay. "Furious. Last night, the D'Amato Family killed someone who was supposed to be in my protection. Killed him ... killed his wife, his daughters ... two of them. They--"

The words caught in her throat, and a tear threatened. Emelia didn't like men seeing her cry. Her father had taught her it was a weakness and that, except for in his presence, she was never to do it. She blinked the tear away, clenched her jaws, then finished in barely over a whisper, "Raped them. The wife ... the daughters..."

Emelia didn't mention the whore-mistress. She didn't think it supported her case. For all she knew, Marcus had already heard the police and/or news reports. She continued, "They were ... they were just girls ... teenagers ... one wasn't even that!"

Before she go any further, Philip stepped into her view and nodded. She looked back to Marcus. "Right at this moment, I have three teams of men set up outside D'Amato properties: an underground casino, a sports book, and a money counting room."

She leaned in closer, growling in whisper, "Unless you can tell me ... promise me ... that you can find the animals that did this within 24 hours ... my men are going to hit all three of these locations simultaneously. We will limit civilian loses, but..."

Emelia had made a promise to Marcus that she wouldn't use violence in her quest to help him bring law and order to the City. But her blood was boiling right now.

Then, with a more desperate tone, she said, "Marcus ... help me here. I don't want a war. But I can't let this go unanswered." She reached to take his hand atop the little table between them. "What am I supposed to do?"

 

[Gabe619]

Cole squeezed her hand softly as he looked at her. There was no doubt this had hurt her greatly, the unfallen tear still making her eyes gleam. But he knew D'Amato wouldn't have done this without provocation. He had heard over the radio of the mass slaughter of the family and the shootings at MDI's corporate offices. MDI was owned off the books by the D'Amato family, so why would they attack their own company? And if it hadn't been D'Amato who attacked MDI then who would benefit from that attack? There was a lot here he didn't know, behind the scenes movements which led to this tragedy. D'Amato, no matter how much Cole hated them, were smart operators, they had survived when other families had fallen, brokered alliances where needed. He kept eye contact with Emelia.

"What did you do to them?" He asked softly, no accusation in his voice, just a question. He needed intel to work, he couldn't do what he needed to do without it.

 

[PennySaver]

Emelia hadn't intended on telling Marcus the truth about MDI. But she also knew that he was unlikely to help her if she didn't fess up. And besides, he was a good investigator, so eventually -- once the papers had been filed for the transfer of the company -- he was going to know the truth.

She casually pulled her hand back from his and explained about buying the company from the on the books owner to screw over the off the books owner. "I was trying to hurt their bottom line. My sources inside the D'Amato Family tell me that MDI funnels as much as 25% percent of the Family's dirty money."

By the time she'd finished, she'd truly come to realize that this was entirely her fault. She explained, "Henry Draper had another daughter, too. Charlie ... Charlize. She's 19. I have her in a safe house. She wasn't at home when the family was taken away, so she's not a witness."

Emelia drew a deep breath as she looked down at the table before her, held it as she contemplated how she wanted to continue, then told Marcus, "It's my fault that her family is dead. I'm ... I'm going to take care of her. Set her up someplace away from here. Home, money ... college fund. I won't let this destroy her."

Looking back up to Marcus, she finished, "So, you know what I'm going to do. What are you going to do?"