Adrian watched from the corner of his eye as Rook plucked another cigarette from the pack and lit it with a flick of his lighter, inhaling a long drag, the smoke trailing into the still air of the silent cruiser. The stink bothered him for the first few days, and he clung to his clothes stubbornly, but after the past week of sting operations and stalking, he could hardly remember what fresh air smelled like.
He rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and then got back to it. They had parked a few blocks away from the Club, Blacklight, in a civilian vehicle with tinted windows, never in the same place, never the same vehicle. Blacklight was just another forgotten corner of the city. Its faded sign buzzed weakly above a graffiti-stained entrance, the neon dark and lifeless. Posters for past shows curled at the edges, peeling away from the brick-like old skin. The windows were blacked out, masking the cavernous space within, but the remains of the revelry of previous nights were plain to see, still littering the street. Vomit stains, wristbands and refuse, glow sticks and scruffy-looking patrons suffering from a night of pleasure with a morning of their just desserts, face first in the gutter.
He had been scrawling every detail he could glean in a small notebook. They had followed every employee back to their homes and bugged their homes and vehicles while they were at work. Their schedules were marked meticulously, and it seemed that they had successfully remained undetected. In other words, the work was done; it had been for days, but as always, he couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. That something was going to go horribly, horribly wrong.
Rook tapped his arm, "Want one?" he offered the pack to him as if it were a platter of sweets.
"What?" Adrian turned, "No. You know I don't smoke."
Rook breathed a laugh, motioning to the smokey air, "You do."
"Not of my own volition; besides, you're doing enough for the both of us." Adrian smiled, turning back to the window, "Something troubling you, Lucas?"
"Can't smoke at home; the wife would kill me." Rook extinguished the butt of the cigarette in an overfilling ashtray on the console between them and plucked the cigarette he had offered out, pressing it between his lips. "Nothing better to do anyway."
Adrian's features soured, "You could help, you know, pick up a pair of binoculars. Make sure the camera is-."
"And what, look at the building?" Rook laughed, lighting the cigarette, "There's nothing more we can learn from this. The branch already has a mountain of audio to pour through, camera footage on top of that, and you're going to need another notebook after this if you haven't got one already, which, knowing you, you probably do." He exhaled, flooding the car with another plume of smoke. "The way I see it, the only thing there is left to do is, well. Do it."
The words made his stomach queasy. "We still don't know how many there are..." Adrian argued weakly.
"We won't find that out with these." Rook plucked the binoculars from his hands and set them on the console.
Adrian looked down at the binoculars, then to Rook, then gazed out the window and sighed, "So far, the employees have revealed nothing. Trying to bug his home is too risky; he can't be alerted, or it'll all have been for nothing, and their senses... He'd sniff us out and then-."
"And the house of cards collapses, yeah, I got it." Rook sighed, "So we assume half his employees are Fiends, one hundred guys, plus a mobile headquarters and a squad to shut off the main streets, call it a hundred and twenty, maybe a hundred and forty Operators."
Adrian shook his head, "No, two teams at least."
"Two?" Rook sounded incredulous at first but took a moment to think it over, "Five squads each team; you really think we need two hundred men for this?"
Adrian raked his fingers through his thinning hair as he thought it through, "Maybe not two full teams, but we can't just hit Blacklight; we have to hit his house at the same time, or near the same time, if anyone is there, if he's there, they will be able to destroy evidence, try to run. That means two mobile headquarters, at least one squad establishing a perimeter at both sites; Blacklight will likely need two for that on its own, right at an intersection, a busy one too." Adrian scratched at the back of his head as he worked it out, sighing before continuing, "Then the Operators carrying out the operation itself; it's a headache, and on top of that, an expensive one... It would be best to hit all their houses, just to be sure, but I don't think Pedester will be willing to tie up even one hundred men; we're stretched dangerously thin as it is; there are two hundred Operators on clean-up duties alone almost every morning. Not to mention-."
Rook breathed, a grim wisp of smoke escaping his mouth, "The dead can wait."
Adrian nodded, "Yes, I agree, but will Pedester?"
Rook looked at him, "You're gonna find that out sitting here looking at a fucking building?"
Adrian scratched at his scar, looking out at Blacklight in the distance, "No... No, I suppose not..." he muttered, defeated. He clicked his pen and shut the notebook, tucking both into his breast pocket. Adrian stared down at his feet before meeting Rook's eyes. "We haven't established proof, Rook. None of them have let anything slip."
"The Girl-"
"A Fiend." Adrian corrected, frustrated. "Two hundred men on the word of a Fiend..." A silence hung in the vehicle as Rook filled it further with smoke. Ten years, is it all foiled over a fucking girl? Adrian breathed the smoke in deep. "It's abnormal, you know?" he started, "Someone says something in casual conversation on the phone when they think no one is listening. Drugs, a location, a task, a fight or a threat here or there, carpets getting replaced. Any crime at all, a pirated movie for Christ's sake, these people are the most innocent bartenders and bouncer's in the fucking city!"
Rook chewed on that a moment, "Well, maybe it's time we take a risk."
There was wisdom in that, Adrian hated to admit; he sighed, "How big of a risk are you thinking?"
Rook shrugged, "We could always go in and ask," he said with a grin.
Adrian smiled back, "Ha! Flash our badges, ring the dinner bell; perhaps we should season ourselves as well!"
Rook breathed a laugh and, with it, another plume of smoke, "We go missing on a sting? That'll probably be all the proof Pedester needs to level the place, level the whole block."
The idea seemed laughable at first, but the deeper the thought wriggled its way into his head, the more his mind began to buzz. A check, not quite mate, but... He stared out at Blacklight in the distance; if we were to talk to him, ask him questions, he's bound to reveal something; even if he doesn't, once we start talking and put our foot in the door, he will be obligated to cave to our demands, or he'll attempt to obstruct us, which would be preferable. So long as we don't ask for too much, and the calculation doesn't shift to gutting us like fish... A check that leads to two possible moves, he takes and is surely captured, or he tries to escape the situation. He rubbed his chin, scar tissue soft on his thumb, his growing scruff rough on his hand. Escape, that's the real worry; if we make this move, the pressure can't lift for even a moment. All Fiends keep an extra face on hand, and a Fiend like this? Established and rich, I'd wager he has the papers to go with many faces. If he tries to escape, that's mate in two or three. If he kills us, that's mate in one... Which will he choose, I wonder? Death today or death tomorrow?
Adrian looked to Rook, "There's a squad on stand-by, isn't there?"
Rook grinned, "Of course." he said with a laugh, "What, you want to occupy the place?"
Adrian thought momentarily, "No, but I want them close enough to hear the screams," he smiled crookedly and opened the car door, stepping out into the street.
As they approached the doors, Adrian surveyed the surroundings from a new perspective; he gazed at the worn brick storefronts on the opposite side of the street; the corner lot caught his eye: a clothing store and, above it, an apartment. A good vantage point over the intersection, a clear line of sight to the entrance to Blacklight; we could also keep eyes on the alleyway. If we live, we'll commandeer that residence to serve as the command post, scratch a mobile headquarters. As they rounded the corner, the heavy black metal doors of the club came into view, steel mesh over the blacked-out windows. That made him anxious. Hmm... We won't be able to see what's going on inside... We'll have to flush them out. Fighting close quarters is never ideal, but the civilian risk it'll pose... Adrian stopped in his tracks, staring off down the road at a building overlooking the parking lot behind the club. We can hit it early in the morning to minimize foot traffic; late at night won't do so due to the nature of the place, but that means our Jailer will likely be home. This might be preferable and more secluded, but that can't be counted on; two full teams may be needed after all. He took out his notebook to make a note of it and heard Rook cough.
Adrian put the notebook back, "Oh, sorry..."
"Cold feet?" Rook asked.
"No, no... Just working some things out."
"Bit late to make good with the Lord now; can't hide your heart from God."
Adrian sneered, "Oh, don't worry, I've made my peace with that." Adrian sneered, "I'm just working out how we'll go about this."
"If we live." Rook chuckled.
Adrian laughed, "You took the words right out of my mouth."
Rook pounded on the door, and Adrian grasped his Hilt beneath his overcoat as if they would barge out, ready to tear his throat out. The thought made him smile. If a Hilt could change that outcome, I'd be lucky to get a last word out. Perhaps a last gurgle.
They waited for a while as civilians passed them by; some gave them worried glances as they did, heads down as they noticed them. Most quickened their pace; others paid them no mind at all. Black overcoats were always a bad omen, Fiends and Humans alike agreed.
Another knock, another long silence. Rook grew increasingly impatient and gave it a few more hard knocks for good measure. Just as he was about to yank it open himself, the door opened a crack.
"Yo, we're fucking closed, look at the..." The eye within the crack grew wide.
Adrian slid his foot in the door. "Good morning," he started, his voice smooth and calm, veiling his pounding heart as best he could. "May we come in?"
"I..." The Worker said, "I'll have to ask my manager." He doesn't have a choice either, unfortunately.
"No problem at all; we were hoping to speak with him."
"Her," The Worker corrected cautiously, "I'll get her, just a sec'," he tried to close the door, looked down at Adrian's foot, and back up to him.
Adrian smiled, "It is rather hot out today; we would rather wait inside." He said, "If it's all the same to you, of course."
As Adrian finished, Rook gently tugged the door open, revealing a lanky young man wearing a faded band tee beneath a half-zipped hoodie, the logo peeling from too many washes. His greasy dark hair, hanging in front of tired, bloodshot eyes, from lack of sleep or something stronger. He shifted uneasily, eyes darting between them and the interior as if debating whether to bolt or stand his ground. The dim neon glow from inside painted his face in shifting hues of purple and blue, making his unease all the more obvious.
"R-right..." The Worker stuttered, "Well, you can wait in the lobby, I'll go get her." He motioned them inside, and Rook closed the door behind them.
"I thank you for being so accommodating, mister...?" Adrian trailed off as he walked beside him, "I'm sorry, I don't believe we got your name; what was it?"
"Payton..." he said, slowing for a moment, he looked between them, "I...-"
"Hmm? Something wrong?" Adrian asked innocently.
"Nothing." Payton sighed, continuing to lead them to the Manager.
The interior was surprisingly large, with high ceilings, a large bar heavily stocked lined the back of the club, with worn couches and booths at the edges, and walls adorned with punk paraphernalia that, to him, looked more akin to scavenged trash than anything. A small stage stood at the front of a large open floor, concrete marred with stains and shoe marks. Other workers went about their daily tasks, cleaning the disaster left from the previous night, setting up lights and sound equipment, and toiling away at various maintenance tasks as they ventured further into the club. The workers stopped as they passed them, and Adrian could feel their eyes on his back; he turned to Rook, who revealed little save a resigned shrug as he noticed. They turned toward the bar, entering the employee-only section, delving further down a dimly lit hallway until Payton stopped at the door.
"Becca?" Payton knocked, "Uhh... Two Cops wanna' talk to you."
"Ha!" They heard from behind the door, "What have I done now?"
"We were hoping to find out, actually!" Adrian joked.
"I don't suppose you could give a girl a little time to get her story straight?" Becca called back playfully.
"Afraid not," Rook added.
"Aww... Come on in."
The Manager sat behind a cluttered desk. Tapping away on a laptop covered in stickers. She looked up as they entered, eyes sharp, the faintest smirk tugging at dark-painted lips, a nose ring dangling above them. Her black blouse was sleek but just sheer enough to hint at the intricate lace beneath, paired with a blazer that gave her an aura of professionalism. Silver rings adorned her fingers, briefly catching the glow of her laptop screen before she closed it. Dark waves of hair framed a stark pale face, softened only by the amusement dancing in her dark eyes, which flicked to Payton.
"These aren't cops, kid. Don't look so scared. They're not here for all the drugs in your little pockets."
"Becca!?" Payton gasped, taking a step back into the hall. "What the fuck!?"
"Go on, get back to work." She leaned back in her chair and lifted her heavy black boots onto her desk, "I know 'Inq's' when I see 'em!"
"Oh, fun." Adrian smiled as he watched Payton scurry down the hall. He slid his coat off, wrapped it around the chair in front of him and sat down, "You play this game often then?"
Becca shrugged, "Comes with the territory; every little kid or nosy old bitch on the street sees a scary-looking girl like me and pegs me for a Fiend."
"Oh, if only it were that easy," Adrian said wistfully.
"So, what can I do for our brave boys in black this morning?" Becca smiled wryly, lifted her boots off the desk and leaned in, resting her head on her hands, "Besides confess, of course," she finished with an uncharacteristically bubbly giggle.
If I were ten years younger. "Nothing too taxing, I assure you. First, some introductions," Adrian took his badge from his overcoat and placed it on the desk in plain view, "I'm Special Agent Adrian Bishop; this is my partner, Agent Lucas Rook. We're...-"
"Bishop, huh?" Becca smiled, "I think I've met a few of your brothers."
"Oh, I wouldn't be surprised; we're spread all over; our family tree has deep roots indeed."
Becca's eyes shifted to Rook, "Can't say I've met many Rooks, though."
Rook shrugged, still standing by the door and pilfering through a mess of papers pinned to a corkboard. "Maybe it's cursed." Her eyes seemed to brighten at that.
Adrian coughed, "As I was saying. We're here today investigating the tragic passing of one Alexia Alvarez. Her last known whereabouts, according to her next of kin, as well as some contents on the corpse, point her last few hours to have been spent here." He watched her carefully as he fed her the story, her pale face revealing nothing, all the right movements, her eyes moved up and to the right, trying to recall, a little confusion, just the right amount of worry. "We need to collect, review and make copies of your security footage; a copy of this week's schedule wouldn't hurt in gathering testimonies. The place is swept clean already, so there's nothing we can do there, but we would also like your permission to thoroughly search the place."
"That's..." Her brow furrowed, and she took a moment to collect her thoughts, "The footage, of course, but we only keep a few days of footage before it's wiped, the search though... Is that really necessary? You think they're still here?"
I certainly hope so. "Apologies, Ms. Becca, but whether or not they're still here is irrelevant."
Becca's eyes turned a touch frantic, "You see, it's just. We have a show tonight, you see. It's nothing big, but this is kind of late notice. The band is already coming from Sacramento, and the tickets are sold. Is there any way...-?"
Adrian smiled, "Again, I'm sorry. All of that is irrelevant."
"Could I call the owner?" Becca offered, shifting in her seat to get out her phone, "He should be here soon anyway; maybe he can sort all of this out."Adrian looked back at Rook, who paid them no mind save for a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.
"If he'll be here soon, there's no reason to bother him; we don't plan on leaving soon." Adrian leaned in and plucked the phone from her hand, placing it on the desk, "Is he not a fan of surprises?"
Becca's eye never left her phone, "No, he's not," she swallowed "He's not a fan of bad news either."
"The Bureau has already done you the courtesy of asking, Ms. Becca. Your further consent and cooperation will certainly reflect highly on our report." Adrian stood and slowly walked around to the back of his chair, collecting his overcoat and donning it in one smooth motion. "As you've said. You've played this game before. You know how gentle we've been and surely how gentle we can be."
She looked up at him, struggling to maintain her pleasant demeanour, "Of course..." A cold whisper.
"Splendid. When should he be arriving?" Adrian asked innocently, "Oh, and his name. First impressions are important."
Becca stayed quiet for a moment, eyes shifting back down to her phone. Don't be foolish.
"Hmm?" Adrian pressured.
"Troy, Mr. Martin. He's usually late." Becca's eyes returned to his, "Any minute."
Adrian turned to Rook, and they nodded, "Well, we'll let you get back to work then; you'll get started on cancelling things, I trust?"
She looked between them, "I'll wait for Troy's verdict. If you don't mind."
Adrian nodded, "Of course, ever the optimist, aren't we?" They turned to leave, Rook holding the door open for him, "Ah, I almost forgot!" he turned back, took the phone from the desk and tucked it safely into his pocket. "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would we?"
"Of course not." Becca smiled at him in such a way that sent a chill up his spine.
"The laptop, too," Adrian stated, any hint of friendliness dead and gone.
Her eyes widened, and she tried to protest. "Well... How am I supposed to."
"You're waiting for Mr. Martin's verdict, remember?" Adrian interrupted.
Becca crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, "Fine. Take it."
Adrian unplugged it and tucked it under his shoulder, "Thank you for your cooperation." Before she could curse him out, he walked out the door, and Rook shut it behind them. "Take these back to the car; we'll go through it later."
Rook nodded, "You have a talent for turning people against you."
"People?" Adrian sneered, "That's rather generous of you."
Rook stopped, "If you think she's a Fiend, what are we doing? Why not call in the twenty men outside and arrest her? Because you know she's not. Why make enemies? What do we gain from her hostility?"
"I'm taking a risk, as you suggested." They stared at each other for a moment before Adrian continued. "They've been at this for a thousand years, Rook. They won't have bodies in the basement, and if we find them, we will likely join them not a moment after. We're here to find enough evidence to warrant a raid and to corroborate Nymph's story. Even if we have to create it." Adrian started walking.
Rook followed reluctantly, keeping his voice low as they passed other workers. "So the plan is to piss them off until they try to kill us? I was joking about dying."
"Obstruct until they try to move us. We are protected by implication alone, but it should be enough." Adrian corrected. As they rounded the corner, he caught sight of a man entering the building through an employee entrance. "Take it to the car, touch base with the unit on stand-by; when you're done, visit your new friend Becca and retrieve the footage."
Rooks scowl turned resigned, and he simply nodded, "What am I telling them."
"Observe, but be ready to interfere." Adrian began walking toward the employee entrance to meet their target.
The Fiend carried himself with effortless charm; his dark hair, slicked back with just enough care to seem careless, accentuated the sharp angles of his face. Dressed in a casual suit, he looked the part of a businessman more than a club owner. His pale eyes lingered just a second too long, sizing him up with quiet amusement.
"What can I do for you?" Troy said, calm.
Adrian put on a friendly smile, walking toward him and outstretching his hand, "Ahh, you must be Mr. Martin, a pleasure to meet you, I'm Special Agent Bishop; my partner just stepped out, but he should be returning shortly. We're conducting an investigation into the death of one Alexia Alvarez."
Troy's smile didn't falter, shaking his hand without hesitation, "Well, if there's anything I can do to help the Bureau, please don't hesitate to ask." He knows he's innocent of that.
"Yes, your manager has already been very accommodating; she's currently gathering the security footage we're after; of course, we've let her hold off on cancelling tonight's performance until you sanction it, but that shouldn't be an issue, should it?"
The Fiend's eyes shifted, and his smile twitched slightly, "That's..." A problem? "...Extremely late notice; if you've talked to her, you should know the Band is already on the way; this has been booked for months."
"I'm afraid investigating Fiend activity takes precedence, and unfortunately, it can often be unpredictable." Adrian could see the annoyance growing behind his eyes.
"What could possibly be gleaned from a search now?" Troy asked, a hint of aggravation tinging the question.
"Whatever we can find, I suppose," Adrian said innocently; he placed himself beside him, putting his hand on The Fiend's back and gently guiding him away from the ears of his employees as he explained. "As I'm sure you're aware, hunting Fiends can often be quite difficult. They rarely leave anything behind, and so anything they do leave is obviously extremely valuable."
"I'm sure that's the case, but..." Troy stopped and looked around, "The damage is done, isn't it? The place has already been cleaned, you should've at least called ahead to stop them."
What a ridiculous notion. How big of a fool do I have to play here? "We didn't?" Adrian blinked, feigning surprise, "You didn't receive a call?"
Troy looked perplexed, "I'm sure I would've been made aware of it. A call from the Bureau is always a serious matter."
Adrian stepped away for a moment, scratching at his scar and trying his best to look apologetic, "I do apologize on behalf of the F.I.B. Some wires must've been crossed; someone should have called ahead, but I'm afraid that isn't my department I'm only... well, not exactly the messenger, but in any case, the damage is done, as you said, and now I'm afraid a more thorough search is quite necessary."
The Fiend put on a friendly face, "Maybe you could come back tomorrow? Or this evening after the show. You've really put me in a terrible position here."
Adrian scratched at the back of his head, "That..." He hesitated, pretending to mull it over. Come on, then convince me. "...I'm not sure."
"You mentioned Rebecca handed over the security footage already; anything physical you might've gathered is long gone anyway; it might be the case that the footage is all you'll need."
Weak, but fine. "Yes, yes, I think you might be right..." Adrian noticed a group of workers mingling in earshot and motioned Troy to take a few steps away; he cleared his throat and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Look, at this stage, it's a breach of protocol; my hands are tied here. I'm sorry."
Troy lowered his voice to match, "We aren't denying a search, only delaying it..." He scratched at the back of his head, "Maybe you could tell them you reviewed the tapes, and it required a further investigation, that's all."
A little better. Adrian looked at him, "I can't afford to lose my job. Mr. Martin."
Troy looked him up and down, and a calculation played out behind his eyes, "Is it a matter of money, then?"
It took everything he had not to drop the facade and laugh. So brazen? I wonder... How many times has that worked for you, Mr. Martin? Adrian breathed deeply and heaved a sigh as if contemplating a Faustian bargain. "I... That's..." he grimaced and went quiet, letting The Fiend fill the silence. Come on then, give me an offer.
Troy's eyes were bright and inviting; he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a wad of crisp bills, counting them in his hands, "Let's say, what, five grand? You come back this evening, and the whole place is yours. You'll even get some overtime out of it; everyone wins."
Do I look that cheap? Adrian swallowed, eyes fixed on the bills, "And this would be... Confidential?"
"Of course." Troy rolled up the money, stuffed it in his hand and offered another handshake, "Our little secret."
"Sir?" Just then, Rook returned, holding a USB drive, "I got the."
"Right!" Adrian feigned shock, shaking Troy's hand aggressively and clumsy as though he were trying to hide something. He sneaked the wad of cash in his hand with a slight nod before quickly stuffing it in his pocket. Troy returned a knowing smile.
"Adrian, are you-."
Adrian coughed, "Mr. Martin, this is my partner, Agent Rook, I mentioned him earlier."
"Ah, yes. Pleased to meet you," Troy said, outstretching a hand, a tone that dripped with confidence.
Rook looked between them warily before shaking. "Likewise... Adrian, I-."
Adrian interrupted, "I believe we've got what we came here for, Rook. We should get going; the first forty-eight hours are crucial, after all."
Rook looked at him as he walked by, incredulous, "What about the search?"
"Not necessary for the moment, as we were just discussing, due to a clerical error, any physical evidence has been lost, though..." Adrian looked to Troy, "We may spend some time snooping around the alleyway for a bit just to look through the bins."
Troy nodded with a shit-eating grin, "Of course."
"Adrian, this is..." Rook tried to protest, but Adrian shot him a look.
"The security footage should be plenty for our purposes. Come on, we're wasting time." Adrian brushed past, walking hurriedly out and into the street. Then he heard his partner's feet slamming against the pavement as he caught up.
Rook placed a hand on his shoulder and yanked him back, "What the fuck was that you spineless coward!? If you were going to get cold feet and run away, we never should have bothered!"
"There's no need for all that," Adrian revealed the clean rolled bills from his pocket. "He tried to bribe me, Rook. It's over, we'll level the place."
Rook's anger turned to shock, then realization. "Oh..."
Adrian sighed, "You're staying here. Keep the men out of sight, but keep observing. Pick through the trash for a while and make it look good. I'll talk to Pedester and get things moving."
"Yes, sir." Rook shrunk back as Adrian passed him.
"Ultimately, it will be Pedester's decision about who stays here and who raids his residence. Do you have a preference?"
Rook swallowed, "None, sir."
"Good, I'll request Blacklight. There is no sense in tarnishing your record with potential civilian casualties." Adrian stared at him for a while. Rook stared back.
"Thank you, sir..." Rook replied, looking down. "Sorry."
Thank you. What use would you be to me if your reputation were as black as mine? Adrian forced a smile, "Nothing I haven't heard before, Rook." He stepped past him. "Be careful; he either thought I was a complete fool, or he was desperate, likely both, and in any case, he was only trying to buy time. He's either burning evidence or calling back up."
"And the laptop?"
"If there's anything on it, he'll find out we have it shortly, and you'll find out rather quickly if it was important or not."
"How so?"
"He'll try to buy you too." Adrian turned back, showing a wild smile, "Or..."
Rook smiled back and nodded silently. "I'll call my wife and let her know I might not be home for dinner."
Adrian laughed dryly, "That should go without saying, no?"