"Camptown ladies sing this song, for the, money! Camptown ladies sing this song, for the money now!" X sang to himself as bolted at hypersonic speed from one place to another in Newark to make collections for Rufio. They had been given ample time to recuperate themselves back into their old niches, now it was time to pay dues to the man himself. With a large wind trail following him X was able to hit the casinos, pool halls, strip joints, and other regular gangster hangouts in no time flat. It was just a casual day for him, buttoned up black leather jacket, a pair of blue jeans, and a thick backpack for the money to be made. While the overall outfit was less imposing than his combat gear his sleek red helmet still retained the same haunting look to it as if it were year round Halloween. He wanted the last color his enemies see to be red which is why he wears when business is involved. "Twenty grand, c'mon. Pay up there, Odin, what is the money in your beard? You, fatty, put down the donut, pick up a salad, and by the by, Rufio wants his money. Hey, nice legs, money please."
X rattled off his one liners as fast as he moved today as he gathered up tribute for his boss. It was going extremely smooth; nobody objected to the man who works for Rufio, the walking slaughterhouse. After a couple of drinks of water in private to quench his thirst he headed to his last name on the collections list: Brimstone. An easy two minutes later and he was standing before the Stone man himself, who was seated at a round table with his colleagues James Mercer and Lady Construct at an outdoor Cafe. They were in their casual wear as well, Brimstone wore his signature Bowler and beige trenchcoat, his smooth, dark grey, stone skin absorbed most of the light from the sun, matching his jet black eyes with sharp red pupils. Lady Construct wore a grey hoodie with a large hood and matching sweatpants, her auburn red hair flowed in the cold breeze over her brown eyes, a gorgeous woman. And then there was James who sat there boldly sporting orange hair and a tough guy image, the only one with balls to sport a Tee shirt in the winter time, but he had boots and sweatpants so it was almost ok. The cafe was a calm, normal place of business in downtown Newark, the glass doors gleamed in the sunlight with 'Cuppa Joe's' stained across it, the yellowish bricks seemed white as the sun struck it. It was bustling with patrons, some who wanted to take their purchases to go and others who wanted to sit down for a chat. Out of all the collections today this one was the most public which made X nervous of police presence as well as onlookers. He just wanted to get the money and go so he could get back home to enjoy the rest of his day as Robert Floyd and not X.
"Sup Flintstone, yabba dabba dues please." X greeted as he extended his hand expecting payment quickly. After all quickness was his forte. Brimstone looked up at X while still holding his cup of coffee, his facial expression was blank as if completely ignoring X's antics. X gave a slight chuckle as if he was playing off a bad joke, which he sort of was. "Heh, I guess I milked that one a little, huh? Alright come on, stoner, time is bank." He reasserted.
The silence continued as the only thing X collected were blank, disinterested stares. Under the helmet his smile faded away as he became more irritated. He looked like a jerk to all the people who took the time to look over at him holding his hand out to three people only to be blatantly disrespected.
"What is yer brain made of stone too or are you just too old to remember what collections are?" X asked with increasing impatience.
Though the original plan was to ignore X as a message to Rufio, Lady Construct had become quite irritated with X's jabs at her boss and spoke out, "Seems you're the only thick headed one right here, buddy. Do you not get we're not paying you? Do we need to tag it on your helmet that you probably kiss goodnight?" Brimstone put his hand on her shoulder as a signal that she didn't need to speak further, to which she obliged.
X gave a laugh and placed his hand to the forehead area for the helmet. "Haha, not gonna pay. That's a good one. You're not gonna pay? I heard that right, right?"
"It would seem you did." Brimstone replied in his usual grim tone.
"Haha of course I did." said X as he instantaneously disappeared from sight in a swift break of wind. within the second and reappeared next to Lady Construct with knife in hand pressed strategically against her throat. He hoisted her up by the neck with his arm and yanked her from the table back a couple steps. She wrestled with him to break free but every attempt was met with a swift jerk backward, keeping her restrained under his arm. The cafe on both the outside and inside immediately began gathering as the conflict started. Mumurs and gasps abounded as they watched in horror at a scene straight out of an action film. "You see, I'm really tired today. Been zipping here to there making these rounds today and had absolutely no trouble, whatsoever. And then you had to be difficult. All I wanna do is get the money, drop it off, and go home to watch some HD porn on a widescreen is that too much to ask?" X shouted.
Brimstone didn't budge at the spectacle on display and neither did James. X wasn't a threat to someone like Lady Construct and they knew it, but X didn't, so it became nothing more than a waiting game to them.
"Okay so I guess you want me to carve yer luscious lady little friend here up like Turducken, is that what I'm understanding?" X threatened. He waved the knife back and forth in front of Construct as a constant reminder that he will kill her if he isn't paid. It wasn't beneath him to spill a bit of blood especially if it's over money. And to add to it Rufio expects nothing but the best from his right hand man so this was a no room for failure task.
"Any day, Anaya." Brimstone said with an annoyed sigh.
"Just, playin' up the drama, uncle B." Lady Construct choked out in a hoarse, strained voice. X decided to make his move and placed the knife on the other side of her throat to make his cuts. Construct gave a loud shout and flung herself forward and launched several large stone spires out of her back, sending X flying through the glass doors of the cafe all the way into the front counter with bone crushing force. The crowd gasped almost in unison as they saw the young woman who was once being held captive standing in a hunched over position, large stone spires as large as her small form erected out from her back. Her ability allowed her to borrow the properties from materials surrounding her and spontaneously recreate it from her body, in this case she borrowed the properties of the cement she stood on. The stone spires shattered and crumbled to the ground as soon as she felt they weren't needed and she turned toward her would be assailant as he picked up his shambling form from the floor, punctures now riddled his casual outfit and a small crack now adorned his signature helmet.
"Okay. That hurt." X said as he brushed himself off and pulled bits of glass out of his neck and hands that were uncovered. He nodded his head as if agreeing with his last statement. "You're lucky, you're a new face round here. Didn't know you could, uh, do what ya did. Whatever the fuck it was." X walked over and picked up his knife from under the seat of a woman who immediately fled from him in terror and joined the onlookers outside. "Now that I do, you're dead." Anaya stood stout to his threat and gave a simple neck crack challenging him to come again, to which he obliged with pleasure. He launched himself foward blade out forward like a bayonet. One good stab to the heart and she dies, Floyd, simple as that, X thought as he glided a break neck speed toward his target. But Anaya was no fool, she took note of his noticeably slower speed due to his injuries and sidestepped him at point blank range prompting him to stop on a dime and take a back swing toward her throat once more. She flung herself back, making the knife miss by mere centimeters, she practically saw every ridge of the blade in detail. The wide arc of his swing left him open momentarily, even though it was a small opening Anaya took her chance. She thrusted her fists forward, densely encased in cement and slammed X directly in the helmet, propelling him into the door of a nearby parked car. The impact was followed by a brief cacophony of wrenching metal and shattering glass that violently rocked the vehicle, lifting it off the right set of wheels briefly. His signature helmet now had several hairline fractures strewn about the surface and the glossy paint had lost several chips revealing jet black underneath.
"Okay," X audibly hacked under the mask, "that hurt worse. I'm gonna go. We'll talk later, k?" He announced as he once again picked his badly damaged form up off of the ground. He threw his head back against the hood of wrecked vehicle and glanced back at the cafe with bleary vision. Dollar bills had been thrown carelessly about the cafe and flew without care nor owner in the gusts of winter. His physical wounds were nothing compared to having to report this to Rufio, but in his condition he was in no shape to fight anymore. Plus his bag was already ruined and leaking more of Rufio's money out by the second, it was just better to cut his losses and flee. He took the bag from his back and held it close and tight to cover the holes. As he steadied himself to hobble himself away from the scene Brimstone grabbed him by the shoulder.
"You tell your boss, these streets are only his temporarily. You let him know that I don't appreciate the fear he's brought upon this city and that things will return to the way they should be." Brimstone commanded.
Believing he was to be hit once more X put his hand up, still barely holding on to the back, but when the anticipated his didn't come he lowered them slow. "Yea, yea okay. Limestone, right?"
"Brimstone, boy!" Brimstone scolded as he dug into X's damaged shoulder forcing him to one knee.
"Right, right, Brimstone, Brimstone! I got it, just-just leggo please, please!" X whimpered. He hobbled himself down the street out of sight with bag clutched in his shaky grip still dropping the occasional dollar bill here and there. Leaving Brimstone to deal with the aftermath of the conflict as stunned patrons and employees alike had their gaze still locked on the young woman who gave X a violent beatdown even after she had already sat down at her table. Brimstone noticed the woman who owned the car that was severely damaged was furious and shouting various insults and complaints about her situation. He attempted to calm her down and offered to pay for the damages only to be met with a backlash of unholy proportions. She cursed everything he stood for and wished death on 'his kind' suggesting that all Reavers should commit suicide to make the world a better place. Many onlookers, though some hesitant, followed suit and joined the woman in her jeers as the scene quickly made a turn for the worst as some brought out phones to call police. It was a definite signal to leave as jail had been a road Brimstone and company had been down before and had no intention on returning to. He and his associates left the cafe and disappeared into the labyrinth of New Jersey.
"What happened?!" I asked Ray in complete disbelief as he finished telling me about what had just taken place a couple hours earlier at a cafe. I sat back in my chair struggling to grasp it. It was on every local news channel and I still couldn't believe it, Brimstone was already stirring up trouble with Rufio. The pictures of X's cracked helmet were damning evidence that Brimstone had every intent of retaking control of his old stomping grounds and he was every bit as effective as he was in those fabled old days. The woman he had with him, Anaya Burns, also known as Lady Construct, was his niece. I remember her being talked about in an article I had read about how he was conducting business on a children's playground, he had brought his niece along as cover since he didn't have children of his own. She had grown from a young little girl with hair that lead back to a puffball into a beautiful woman from what I could see. I'm guessing since his old crew had long since moved on with their lives he desperately needed numbers, but I wasn't so comfortable about his decision to bring his niece in. I mean times are hard but family isn't a group of replaceable grunts, family is family. But of course, what would I know about that?
"Yup. The old guy's still alive and kicking. And apparently kicking ass." Ray replied. He sipped his coffee slowly and kept his eyes locked on the small screen of the tv in my office.
"You'd think he'd lay low for a little while though." I narrowed my eyes at the screen trying to focus in on the picture of Brimstone from the security footage. His legendary stone skin had barely aged over a decade, his chiseled facial features retained the intimidation factor that came with being a mob boss. However from the rest of the footage it doesn't look like looks do it anymore, he was driven out so easily by the wrath of a woman who had her car destroyed. With that it was pretty much official that he no longer held the respect nor fear of this community anymore, his time had passed. As hard as it was to believe I felt bad for Brimstone in this situation, he went from being the bad guy to just a statistic, he was an old dog longing for a home now in the modern age that had long since gotten over its phobia of Joseph Abate of days gone by. Now being entertained by the very idea of a mafia through pop culture figures like Nucky Thompson and Tony Soprano, the public scoffed at his appearance. "Poor guy." Accidentally escaped my lips.
"Poor guy?" Ray interjected. "Tonya, the man's causing trouble. Not as much trouble as our other man, of course, but still he's just another criminal that's all."
"And honestly that's why I feel bad for him right there, Ray." I said. "There was a time when the very name 'Brimstone' would inspire fear in anyone who'd heard it and now he's 'just another criminal' to everyone, a commoner. It's a shitty thing to hold on to but still that man is walking history."
Ray's smile faded. "Yea, history of what we don't to be ever again. A city that lives in fear of the mention of one man." The sheer irony of his statement is kept us both silent for the moment. History hasn't taught this city hard enough and the cycle has done nothing but repeat itself since the prohibition era. "And on that note of irony I did want to bring something up, related to that regard on your new boyfriend issues," he said in a more somber tone rather than jokey like usual. "Strike Force."
"Strike force?" I was beyond curious. An educated guess tells me because the word 'strike' is in it that James Striker has a good deal to do with it.
"Basically the Sentinels without you, commissioned by Striker." Yup I was right. "They've been taking their time to do research on Reavers and try to get up some tech to help combat their effects and things of that nature. The results have been at least positive, weapons, armor, and utilities that I can definitely see as effective." Ray's tone hadn't changed from somber I had noticed. He wasn't very happy with the news apparently.
"You're not happy to hear this?" I asked in my concern.
"You're not that naive, Tonya, and you're not dumb, don't insult the both of us." Ray said. I rarely saw his serious side, it was always a downer to have the funny guy turn serious. "You honestly think Striker, of all people, knows what he's doing? But honestly that's not really what's getting to me." Ray lamented. "I mean sure, Striker's an idiot. But it's the force that I'm upset about. We've made a specialized combat force to combat our own people, we're invading ourselves now."
"You don't believe it's necessary? I mean people like Rufio-"
"See there it is!" He cut me off. "That's what I'm talking about. Tonya, I've never had a problem with Reavers whatsoever. Which is why I'm so cool with you being one, I mean what's wrong with you?" As I opened my mouth to rattle off my life story he cut me off again. "Okay, okay, can of worms, can of worms, I know. But what I mean is, sans your abilities, there's nothing else that sets you apart from a normal human being. If everyone else had that mindset and just treated everyone like one another, sure there might be a little trouble here and there, yea there's always trouble makers, but we'd be much less divided as a people, as a country. It wouldn't be Reavers versus people and measures like Strike Force wouldn't be necessary. I know you see it too."
I did see it. He could easily see it as I curbed my mouth in bitter agreement. In so little sentences he had spoken my entire life story and it honestly made me a bit mad. Ray and people like him should be making the higher decisions not hotheaded patriots like Striker. "Strike Force is going after Rufio isn't it?"
"They didn't spend all this time researching for nothing. What do you think about it? Think they got a shot?"
"Why're you asking me?"
"You're the only one who's witnessed Rufio at work first hand and lived."
"In my honest opinion? I don't know, Ray. I don't feel good about it. It all depends on how well they prepare."
"When are you gonna stop lying? Now or..." Ray called me out. He knew I already had an opinion formed and he wanted me to always be open with him.
"Honestly I think they'll all die, Ray. But Striker being who he is, is going to overestimate his chances. He should call off that plan before the casualties become worse."
"Why don't you tell him how you feel?"
"I doubt Striker would listen to me of all people, Ray. Plus a Drone has no opinion remember?"
"Your doubt's gonna get more people killed." Ray's voice became even more serious. It was unfair that he was placing the responsibility in my hands, what does he want from me?
"Ray, I... Why are you putting this in my hands? Why not your own?"
"I'm your supervisor, Tonya, sure. But I believe that you can push boundaries and take risks. You're always walking on eggshells that may not exist, always so careful to hide your secret. You're letting it cripple you." My face was full of surprise that Ray had mirrored the messages of my lucid dream from the night before. He gave me an inspirational smile and said, "Tonya, you've made it further than any 'drone' and proved yourself as a leader many times before. As a leader, Striker should recognize this too, you have superior judgement and are able to calculate chance of success than most."
"If I did, then 27 lives wouldn't have been lost, Ray. I'm just not, leader material I guess." My heart sank as I dampened my own praise. Everyday I look at myself I always remember what happened as a result of my carelessness. A never ending haunting reminder of my own mistakes.
"Tonya, stop." Ray demanded. "Enough of that. If you want to redeem yourself then you'll do it. But you haven't done anything have you?"He threw away his long finished cup of coffee and walked toward the door, stopping just before it to tell me, "From what I've seen, Tonya, you love living in your misery, you crave it for some reason."
"I don't!" I cried out.
"You do." Ray didn't even look back at me. "You just let these terrible things you could prevent happen. You need to snap out of it, you're better than this. To be perfectly honest I actually think only you and your intuition are enough to stop Rufio. You're always ten steps ahead of everyone when it comes to planning and ruthlessly effective at execution. I don't know if what you're doing now is a plan and irritating me is part of it, but I know this. Tonya, you gotta wake up."
Ray let the door close behind him as he left me with my thoughts once more. I decided not to go into the deep burrows of my mind to figure out the message. I am holding back, even my own subconscious mind knows that. It's about time that I forgive myself and start put myself back on the horse. But how? How was I to start this miracle plan?
First thing was first I had some unfinished business to take care of with a man named Christopher Hughes. He's a man whom in the past I've tried to avoid but a man with his amount of resources could come of some value to me. His affiliation with Nicholas Blade also fascinates me as well. Two people on opposite sides of the societal spectrum entirely. Chris was a businessman, Nick was a criminal, Chris was wealthy, Nicholas may not be. The two have nothing in common. Tomorrow I'll pay him a visit with Ray to get to the bottom of this. I imagine just saying 'FBI' will get us in the door.
Without notice the television had another news story, urgent, breaking. "What the hell?" I expressed softly trying to grasp the image on my screen as I read the headline, 'Large demonic spire erupts in middle of city.' Through the flickering filter of my small tv I gazed in awe at the large, glowing red stone spire that ripped its way through the middle of the street of a downtown area, impaling a car clean through the front and hoisting it high into the air. It stood there with no purpose or intent but with plenty of mystery as well as fear surrounding its appearance. On one of the sides was the engraving of a goat but outside of that it was just a large red stone that had interrupted the daily life of hundreds and even thousands.
"What the hell is going on? Is this Rufio's doing?"
X rattled off his one liners as fast as he moved today as he gathered up tribute for his boss. It was going extremely smooth; nobody objected to the man who works for Rufio, the walking slaughterhouse. After a couple of drinks of water in private to quench his thirst he headed to his last name on the collections list: Brimstone. An easy two minutes later and he was standing before the Stone man himself, who was seated at a round table with his colleagues James Mercer and Lady Construct at an outdoor Cafe. They were in their casual wear as well, Brimstone wore his signature Bowler and beige trenchcoat, his smooth, dark grey, stone skin absorbed most of the light from the sun, matching his jet black eyes with sharp red pupils. Lady Construct wore a grey hoodie with a large hood and matching sweatpants, her auburn red hair flowed in the cold breeze over her brown eyes, a gorgeous woman. And then there was James who sat there boldly sporting orange hair and a tough guy image, the only one with balls to sport a Tee shirt in the winter time, but he had boots and sweatpants so it was almost ok. The cafe was a calm, normal place of business in downtown Newark, the glass doors gleamed in the sunlight with 'Cuppa Joe's' stained across it, the yellowish bricks seemed white as the sun struck it. It was bustling with patrons, some who wanted to take their purchases to go and others who wanted to sit down for a chat. Out of all the collections today this one was the most public which made X nervous of police presence as well as onlookers. He just wanted to get the money and go so he could get back home to enjoy the rest of his day as Robert Floyd and not X.
"Sup Flintstone, yabba dabba dues please." X greeted as he extended his hand expecting payment quickly. After all quickness was his forte. Brimstone looked up at X while still holding his cup of coffee, his facial expression was blank as if completely ignoring X's antics. X gave a slight chuckle as if he was playing off a bad joke, which he sort of was. "Heh, I guess I milked that one a little, huh? Alright come on, stoner, time is bank." He reasserted.
The silence continued as the only thing X collected were blank, disinterested stares. Under the helmet his smile faded away as he became more irritated. He looked like a jerk to all the people who took the time to look over at him holding his hand out to three people only to be blatantly disrespected.
"What is yer brain made of stone too or are you just too old to remember what collections are?" X asked with increasing impatience.
Though the original plan was to ignore X as a message to Rufio, Lady Construct had become quite irritated with X's jabs at her boss and spoke out, "Seems you're the only thick headed one right here, buddy. Do you not get we're not paying you? Do we need to tag it on your helmet that you probably kiss goodnight?" Brimstone put his hand on her shoulder as a signal that she didn't need to speak further, to which she obliged.
X gave a laugh and placed his hand to the forehead area for the helmet. "Haha, not gonna pay. That's a good one. You're not gonna pay? I heard that right, right?"
"It would seem you did." Brimstone replied in his usual grim tone.
"Haha of course I did." said X as he instantaneously disappeared from sight in a swift break of wind. within the second and reappeared next to Lady Construct with knife in hand pressed strategically against her throat. He hoisted her up by the neck with his arm and yanked her from the table back a couple steps. She wrestled with him to break free but every attempt was met with a swift jerk backward, keeping her restrained under his arm. The cafe on both the outside and inside immediately began gathering as the conflict started. Mumurs and gasps abounded as they watched in horror at a scene straight out of an action film. "You see, I'm really tired today. Been zipping here to there making these rounds today and had absolutely no trouble, whatsoever. And then you had to be difficult. All I wanna do is get the money, drop it off, and go home to watch some HD porn on a widescreen is that too much to ask?" X shouted.
Brimstone didn't budge at the spectacle on display and neither did James. X wasn't a threat to someone like Lady Construct and they knew it, but X didn't, so it became nothing more than a waiting game to them.
"Okay so I guess you want me to carve yer luscious lady little friend here up like Turducken, is that what I'm understanding?" X threatened. He waved the knife back and forth in front of Construct as a constant reminder that he will kill her if he isn't paid. It wasn't beneath him to spill a bit of blood especially if it's over money. And to add to it Rufio expects nothing but the best from his right hand man so this was a no room for failure task.
"Any day, Anaya." Brimstone said with an annoyed sigh.
"Just, playin' up the drama, uncle B." Lady Construct choked out in a hoarse, strained voice. X decided to make his move and placed the knife on the other side of her throat to make his cuts. Construct gave a loud shout and flung herself forward and launched several large stone spires out of her back, sending X flying through the glass doors of the cafe all the way into the front counter with bone crushing force. The crowd gasped almost in unison as they saw the young woman who was once being held captive standing in a hunched over position, large stone spires as large as her small form erected out from her back. Her ability allowed her to borrow the properties from materials surrounding her and spontaneously recreate it from her body, in this case she borrowed the properties of the cement she stood on. The stone spires shattered and crumbled to the ground as soon as she felt they weren't needed and she turned toward her would be assailant as he picked up his shambling form from the floor, punctures now riddled his casual outfit and a small crack now adorned his signature helmet.
"Okay. That hurt." X said as he brushed himself off and pulled bits of glass out of his neck and hands that were uncovered. He nodded his head as if agreeing with his last statement. "You're lucky, you're a new face round here. Didn't know you could, uh, do what ya did. Whatever the fuck it was." X walked over and picked up his knife from under the seat of a woman who immediately fled from him in terror and joined the onlookers outside. "Now that I do, you're dead." Anaya stood stout to his threat and gave a simple neck crack challenging him to come again, to which he obliged with pleasure. He launched himself foward blade out forward like a bayonet. One good stab to the heart and she dies, Floyd, simple as that, X thought as he glided a break neck speed toward his target. But Anaya was no fool, she took note of his noticeably slower speed due to his injuries and sidestepped him at point blank range prompting him to stop on a dime and take a back swing toward her throat once more. She flung herself back, making the knife miss by mere centimeters, she practically saw every ridge of the blade in detail. The wide arc of his swing left him open momentarily, even though it was a small opening Anaya took her chance. She thrusted her fists forward, densely encased in cement and slammed X directly in the helmet, propelling him into the door of a nearby parked car. The impact was followed by a brief cacophony of wrenching metal and shattering glass that violently rocked the vehicle, lifting it off the right set of wheels briefly. His signature helmet now had several hairline fractures strewn about the surface and the glossy paint had lost several chips revealing jet black underneath.
"Okay," X audibly hacked under the mask, "that hurt worse. I'm gonna go. We'll talk later, k?" He announced as he once again picked his badly damaged form up off of the ground. He threw his head back against the hood of wrecked vehicle and glanced back at the cafe with bleary vision. Dollar bills had been thrown carelessly about the cafe and flew without care nor owner in the gusts of winter. His physical wounds were nothing compared to having to report this to Rufio, but in his condition he was in no shape to fight anymore. Plus his bag was already ruined and leaking more of Rufio's money out by the second, it was just better to cut his losses and flee. He took the bag from his back and held it close and tight to cover the holes. As he steadied himself to hobble himself away from the scene Brimstone grabbed him by the shoulder.
"You tell your boss, these streets are only his temporarily. You let him know that I don't appreciate the fear he's brought upon this city and that things will return to the way they should be." Brimstone commanded.
Believing he was to be hit once more X put his hand up, still barely holding on to the back, but when the anticipated his didn't come he lowered them slow. "Yea, yea okay. Limestone, right?"
"Brimstone, boy!" Brimstone scolded as he dug into X's damaged shoulder forcing him to one knee.
"Right, right, Brimstone, Brimstone! I got it, just-just leggo please, please!" X whimpered. He hobbled himself down the street out of sight with bag clutched in his shaky grip still dropping the occasional dollar bill here and there. Leaving Brimstone to deal with the aftermath of the conflict as stunned patrons and employees alike had their gaze still locked on the young woman who gave X a violent beatdown even after she had already sat down at her table. Brimstone noticed the woman who owned the car that was severely damaged was furious and shouting various insults and complaints about her situation. He attempted to calm her down and offered to pay for the damages only to be met with a backlash of unholy proportions. She cursed everything he stood for and wished death on 'his kind' suggesting that all Reavers should commit suicide to make the world a better place. Many onlookers, though some hesitant, followed suit and joined the woman in her jeers as the scene quickly made a turn for the worst as some brought out phones to call police. It was a definite signal to leave as jail had been a road Brimstone and company had been down before and had no intention on returning to. He and his associates left the cafe and disappeared into the labyrinth of New Jersey.
--- Tonya Harding ---
"What happened?!" I asked Ray in complete disbelief as he finished telling me about what had just taken place a couple hours earlier at a cafe. I sat back in my chair struggling to grasp it. It was on every local news channel and I still couldn't believe it, Brimstone was already stirring up trouble with Rufio. The pictures of X's cracked helmet were damning evidence that Brimstone had every intent of retaking control of his old stomping grounds and he was every bit as effective as he was in those fabled old days. The woman he had with him, Anaya Burns, also known as Lady Construct, was his niece. I remember her being talked about in an article I had read about how he was conducting business on a children's playground, he had brought his niece along as cover since he didn't have children of his own. She had grown from a young little girl with hair that lead back to a puffball into a beautiful woman from what I could see. I'm guessing since his old crew had long since moved on with their lives he desperately needed numbers, but I wasn't so comfortable about his decision to bring his niece in. I mean times are hard but family isn't a group of replaceable grunts, family is family. But of course, what would I know about that?
"Yup. The old guy's still alive and kicking. And apparently kicking ass." Ray replied. He sipped his coffee slowly and kept his eyes locked on the small screen of the tv in my office.
"You'd think he'd lay low for a little while though." I narrowed my eyes at the screen trying to focus in on the picture of Brimstone from the security footage. His legendary stone skin had barely aged over a decade, his chiseled facial features retained the intimidation factor that came with being a mob boss. However from the rest of the footage it doesn't look like looks do it anymore, he was driven out so easily by the wrath of a woman who had her car destroyed. With that it was pretty much official that he no longer held the respect nor fear of this community anymore, his time had passed. As hard as it was to believe I felt bad for Brimstone in this situation, he went from being the bad guy to just a statistic, he was an old dog longing for a home now in the modern age that had long since gotten over its phobia of Joseph Abate of days gone by. Now being entertained by the very idea of a mafia through pop culture figures like Nucky Thompson and Tony Soprano, the public scoffed at his appearance. "Poor guy." Accidentally escaped my lips.
"Poor guy?" Ray interjected. "Tonya, the man's causing trouble. Not as much trouble as our other man, of course, but still he's just another criminal that's all."
"And honestly that's why I feel bad for him right there, Ray." I said. "There was a time when the very name 'Brimstone' would inspire fear in anyone who'd heard it and now he's 'just another criminal' to everyone, a commoner. It's a shitty thing to hold on to but still that man is walking history."
Ray's smile faded. "Yea, history of what we don't to be ever again. A city that lives in fear of the mention of one man." The sheer irony of his statement is kept us both silent for the moment. History hasn't taught this city hard enough and the cycle has done nothing but repeat itself since the prohibition era. "And on that note of irony I did want to bring something up, related to that regard on your new boyfriend issues," he said in a more somber tone rather than jokey like usual. "Strike Force."
"Strike force?" I was beyond curious. An educated guess tells me because the word 'strike' is in it that James Striker has a good deal to do with it.
"Basically the Sentinels without you, commissioned by Striker." Yup I was right. "They've been taking their time to do research on Reavers and try to get up some tech to help combat their effects and things of that nature. The results have been at least positive, weapons, armor, and utilities that I can definitely see as effective." Ray's tone hadn't changed from somber I had noticed. He wasn't very happy with the news apparently.
"You're not happy to hear this?" I asked in my concern.
"You're not that naive, Tonya, and you're not dumb, don't insult the both of us." Ray said. I rarely saw his serious side, it was always a downer to have the funny guy turn serious. "You honestly think Striker, of all people, knows what he's doing? But honestly that's not really what's getting to me." Ray lamented. "I mean sure, Striker's an idiot. But it's the force that I'm upset about. We've made a specialized combat force to combat our own people, we're invading ourselves now."
"You don't believe it's necessary? I mean people like Rufio-"
"See there it is!" He cut me off. "That's what I'm talking about. Tonya, I've never had a problem with Reavers whatsoever. Which is why I'm so cool with you being one, I mean what's wrong with you?" As I opened my mouth to rattle off my life story he cut me off again. "Okay, okay, can of worms, can of worms, I know. But what I mean is, sans your abilities, there's nothing else that sets you apart from a normal human being. If everyone else had that mindset and just treated everyone like one another, sure there might be a little trouble here and there, yea there's always trouble makers, but we'd be much less divided as a people, as a country. It wouldn't be Reavers versus people and measures like Strike Force wouldn't be necessary. I know you see it too."
I did see it. He could easily see it as I curbed my mouth in bitter agreement. In so little sentences he had spoken my entire life story and it honestly made me a bit mad. Ray and people like him should be making the higher decisions not hotheaded patriots like Striker. "Strike Force is going after Rufio isn't it?"
"They didn't spend all this time researching for nothing. What do you think about it? Think they got a shot?"
"Why're you asking me?"
"You're the only one who's witnessed Rufio at work first hand and lived."
"In my honest opinion? I don't know, Ray. I don't feel good about it. It all depends on how well they prepare."
"When are you gonna stop lying? Now or..." Ray called me out. He knew I already had an opinion formed and he wanted me to always be open with him.
"Honestly I think they'll all die, Ray. But Striker being who he is, is going to overestimate his chances. He should call off that plan before the casualties become worse."
"Why don't you tell him how you feel?"
"I doubt Striker would listen to me of all people, Ray. Plus a Drone has no opinion remember?"
"Your doubt's gonna get more people killed." Ray's voice became even more serious. It was unfair that he was placing the responsibility in my hands, what does he want from me?
"Ray, I... Why are you putting this in my hands? Why not your own?"
"I'm your supervisor, Tonya, sure. But I believe that you can push boundaries and take risks. You're always walking on eggshells that may not exist, always so careful to hide your secret. You're letting it cripple you." My face was full of surprise that Ray had mirrored the messages of my lucid dream from the night before. He gave me an inspirational smile and said, "Tonya, you've made it further than any 'drone' and proved yourself as a leader many times before. As a leader, Striker should recognize this too, you have superior judgement and are able to calculate chance of success than most."
"If I did, then 27 lives wouldn't have been lost, Ray. I'm just not, leader material I guess." My heart sank as I dampened my own praise. Everyday I look at myself I always remember what happened as a result of my carelessness. A never ending haunting reminder of my own mistakes.
"Tonya, stop." Ray demanded. "Enough of that. If you want to redeem yourself then you'll do it. But you haven't done anything have you?"He threw away his long finished cup of coffee and walked toward the door, stopping just before it to tell me, "From what I've seen, Tonya, you love living in your misery, you crave it for some reason."
"I don't!" I cried out.
"You do." Ray didn't even look back at me. "You just let these terrible things you could prevent happen. You need to snap out of it, you're better than this. To be perfectly honest I actually think only you and your intuition are enough to stop Rufio. You're always ten steps ahead of everyone when it comes to planning and ruthlessly effective at execution. I don't know if what you're doing now is a plan and irritating me is part of it, but I know this. Tonya, you gotta wake up."
Ray let the door close behind him as he left me with my thoughts once more. I decided not to go into the deep burrows of my mind to figure out the message. I am holding back, even my own subconscious mind knows that. It's about time that I forgive myself and start put myself back on the horse. But how? How was I to start this miracle plan?
First thing was first I had some unfinished business to take care of with a man named Christopher Hughes. He's a man whom in the past I've tried to avoid but a man with his amount of resources could come of some value to me. His affiliation with Nicholas Blade also fascinates me as well. Two people on opposite sides of the societal spectrum entirely. Chris was a businessman, Nick was a criminal, Chris was wealthy, Nicholas may not be. The two have nothing in common. Tomorrow I'll pay him a visit with Ray to get to the bottom of this. I imagine just saying 'FBI' will get us in the door.
Without notice the television had another news story, urgent, breaking. "What the hell?" I expressed softly trying to grasp the image on my screen as I read the headline, 'Large demonic spire erupts in middle of city.' Through the flickering filter of my small tv I gazed in awe at the large, glowing red stone spire that ripped its way through the middle of the street of a downtown area, impaling a car clean through the front and hoisting it high into the air. It stood there with no purpose or intent but with plenty of mystery as well as fear surrounding its appearance. On one of the sides was the engraving of a goat but outside of that it was just a large red stone that had interrupted the daily life of hundreds and even thousands.
"What the hell is going on? Is this Rufio's doing?"
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