Day 151 - Trouble at Club B part 1

 Trouble at Club B part 1

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Ever since Declan lost a fight with a suspect on the run, he had become a man of passion for the job. Sonny was allowed full access to case files and to Declan’s opinions and theories. At least Sonny now knew what it took to motivate the man. For Sonny the idea of a counterfeit ring was a distraction from his real case, but for Declan it became an obsession. Sonny told himself that this was just what it took to reinvigorate him and get him dedicated to the job, but Sonny worried that really Declan was a man driven by pride and ego. Tattooed killers didn’t matter. A man with a shotgun didn’t matter. Whatever he had been working on with Kaylee in secret didn’t matter. Declan wanted to find the counterfeiters and more importantly he wanted to find the man who got away. This wasn’t what Sonny had signed on for, and it wasn’t his case or jurisdiction. If someone were flooding Jakarta with faked international bills then it could be a wider problem for many nations or the entire region. But it was so far removed from what Sonny wanted to be working on. He had to report in at the end of the week. If Declan was still focused on this case, Sonny would recommend to his bosses that he return to Bandung and continue his work on the mansion massacre. But if his bosses were more interested in currency, so be it. Sonny decided he would do his best to present Bandung as the better more interesting option and downplay any connections in Jakarta. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Declan’s resurrected dedication to the job, but a man who changed focus so often couldn’t be trusted as a partner. Sonny might do better working alone.

Declan suggested they return to the streets and revisit some of the same contacts from before. Earlier they had been focused on the gunman and tattoos. But with most of them dealing in cash-businesses, all would be threatened if someone was mucking up their transactional economy. Sonny couldn’t argue, so they headed back to talk to gamblers, loan sharks and backroom card sharks.

They met a man Declan called Rendy, but who called himself Dave. He told them that his boss had been upset lately because payments coming in had been riddled with fake bills. Sonny asked who the boss was, and Declan shut him down, saying that wasn’t their current problem. Sonny wondered if he was going easy on an informant, or if Declan was involved in something more sinister. Rendy aka Dave sent them down a path towards prostitutes and the men who drove them to local clubs.

A few nights later they ended up at a local night club bar called Club B. There was a floor for dancing, a floor for drinking and eating and a floor for karaoke. Declan explained that the all three would be full of cash transactions, legal and otherwise. There were drug dealers throughout and hidden bedrooms attached to some of the private karaoke rooms. If counterfeit money was flooding the streets, there would be plenty of it here. Sonny asked if they should call backup, but Declan was confident that his connections to an assistant manager would keep them safe.

“We aren’t here to arrest anyone or put a stop to their business. No one should mind a few questions.”

They made their way around the club, looking for anyone willing to talk. Sonny noticed a large number of men who simply migrated to the other side of the room any time they got close. He didn’t think they were going to get any answers.

But then Sonny saw the tattoo – a tough looking man with rolled up sleeves. He had the number forty-seven tattooed on his forearm. It looked just like the thirty-three and the two he had been chasing.

“You see that?” they both asked each other at the same time.

Declan was looking a different direction. Sonny turned to see what caught his attention. It was the man they chased the week before, the courier for the loan shark.

Fine, thought Sonny, let Declan have his rematch. He was more interested in the tattooed man.

They agreed and split up, each on their own mission. It seemed to be a productive night for both.

Day 150 - Leap of Faith

 Leap of Faith

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Everyone talked about how Gideon had proposed one of his top lieutenants to become the new number nine. The unspoken conversation was everyone also knew not all the families agreed. Seven knew from his father, that Gideon and his son Jacob were in disagreement as well. Seven was perhaps only one of a dozen or so people to have heard that. He had known Jacob since he was a child. They were nearly the same age and had always gotten along well. But he was loyal to the families and that meant Gideon over his friend. He wanted to ask what their conflict was, but it wasn’t his place. His father didn’t know exactly, or at least wasn’t saying. He did say that Gideon’s pick was a decent enough choice. The man was skilled and smart. Once the families settled their differences, the training would begin and in short order Nine would be replaced. It made Seven sad. Nine was a partner and a friend. No matter how competent Gideon’s man might be, replacing that comradery would be difficult.

Three was waiting for Seven outside Ace’s dojo. Seven was still sweating and had a few bruises to show for his family time.

“You go easy on him? Or did he go easy on you?”

“I can’t remember the last time my father went easy on me.”

“Maybe when you were a kid.”

“Maybe. What brings you out tonight? Work?”

“I heard a rumor that Gideon made his pick. Figured your dad would know. But seeing your face, I imagine you can tell me.”

“Our Nine is a thing of the past. Long live the new number Nine.”

“Who?”

“You know Frankie?”

“Yeah. Him?”

“It’s who Gideon wants. There’s some conversation. It might not be a done deal.”

“Interesting.”

“You’re friends with Jacob, right? Dad says maybe Jacob had a different idea.”

“And you want me to go find out.”

“Whatever. I don’t know. It might be interesting. We could all go for a drink. Fill him with alcohol.”

“If Jacob wants to talk, we won’t need alcohol.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll feel it out. See how he responds. Maybe later this week.”

“What about tonight? Anything? I heard there are some new girls working at Club B.”

“You’re suddenly interested in all that?”

“I think it’s time you and I talk. We need to catch up on some things. Plus, there might be something more going on at that club.”

“Unauthorized?”

“Maybe. A lot of new faces in the neighborhood. A lot of drivers. New girls. Could be nothing, but if there are new players who aren’t paying taxes? We should know.”

“And we get to look at pretty women.”

“I didn’t say there wouldn’t be perks.”

“That’s some low-level shit. Anyone could check on that. What do you really want to talk to me about?”

Seven thought about Nine appearing at his apartment that night. He thought about the USB drive and the tech who helped him crack the encryption. Nine wasn’t lying, there was a hard drive worth of files about all of them. Someone had collected an entire history on the organization, the rules and current business involved. This was big and Seven needed someone he could trust to help him with this. Whoever made it was still a mystery. Nine likely died because of it, but who he got it from wasn’t clear. The police could be getting ready to crack down, or perhaps a hostile rival. Someone seemed to be preparing to go to war. Seven just wasn’t quite sure who he could trust.

“You want to talk about Nine some more?” asked Seven.

“Frankie?”

“No.”

“I thought you were going to let Ten do his job.”

“I was. But after the funeral… Gideon approached me with a request.”

“Jesus. Do the other families know?”

“I don’t know.”

“God damn. You idiot.”

“He is a boss. I was supposed to say no?”

“No… but. Damn. Damn man. What are you doing? What are you doing to me?”

“Sorry. You’re right, I can go home. You don’t need to be a part of this.”

“No. Let’s get a beer. But if you end up getting me killed, I’m going to be super pissed.”

Seven laughed and they walked off together. Seven wasn’t sure how much he was going to tell him, but someone besides himself needed to know that some of it.

 

 

 

When Seven got home that night, Kira was waiting for him in his bed.

“Long day?”

Seven nodded. “Gonna be a long night?”

“I hope so.”

Seven shut the lights off and crossed the room.

Day 149 - New Number Nine

 New Number Nine

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Gideon had asked to meet with the other families. He had made his choice. Nine wasn’t buried a month and Ten had barely begun to issue his reports, but Gideon was ready to move on. Queenie understood. It was a time of uncertainty and the sooner Gideon resolved this issue, the sooner he could reassert himself and consolidate whatever power had been slipping away. It was not a good choice, thought Queenie. A top lieutenant, a blood relative, albeit a distant one, but still a blood relative. He would be far too loyal to Gideon. The other bosses wouldn’t like it. Queenie understood their concerns. Yes, they all gave up some family member, and it was always a distant one, but it was one that had been trained for this for years, sometimes decades in advance. It would be someone who was low level and had never been in charge of any operations. Never had the opportunity to grow fat with money, or corrupted by power. Picking someone so under-prepared, under-trained, and too accustomed to earning, just made Gideon’s actions all the more transparent. He had consolidated power within his organization and now pushing the boundary to see how far he could go. Queenie was on the other side of town, their operations didn’t overlap. She didn’t mind letting one family grow or one family shrink, as long as it wasn’t hers. She could do this favor for him now, but the real question was how much to ask in return. If she waited, Gideon would forget and protest that it was too much. But he was savvy and wouldn’t give her anything now that would seem like it had too much potential to earn or grow. She had to consider things carefully. The other families would bicker and bargain and that would allow her a day to so to think. She had arms. She had soldiers in training. Now she needed something to do with them.

Jacob left the meeting early. Clearly unhappy. She took note and decided she would need to have a meeting with him soon. Jacob obviously wanted something different that his father. That could be exploited.

Queenie wondered what Jade was doing. She hadn’t heard any reports in days. It was taking too long. A woman should be able to get answers from a man faster than that. Perhaps Jade wasn’t ready yet. Seven didn’t seem celibate. It would be a shame if she turned out to be a failure so quickly. Queenie needed a successor. If Jade couldn’t get information, perhaps one of her other nieces could.

Ace was talking now and the men seemed to like that. He was sure Frankie was a fighter and would starting testing and training him immediately. Ace was a man. She hadn’t been with a man in years, but she still remembered Ace. Perhaps she wasn’t so old herself. If Jade was a failure, then maybe she could get the information she needed another way. She made a mental note to remind herself to invite Ace to dinner soon.

Day 148 - Apartment Building Story

 Apartment Building Story

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Word got around that Declan had lost a fight. He had almost made an arrest, but what everyone really wanted to talk about was the fight. Kaylee didn’t have time to check on him or find out what had happened. She spent her days at the apartment following the men who she suspected as Dragon Claw Agents. Most of their building were young couples and professionals, but there were three men and two women who were all single and Kaylee was suspicious of them all.

Day 147 - The Loan Shark

 The Loan Shark

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Rama had become a chauffeur, driving Junko and Yaz from their hotel to meetings with his bosses. He was designated to wait at the car while the real business was attended to. He knew all the other drivers, but they were just as much in the dark as he was. He hadn’t seen Bagus or Maliq in a week and had no idea what they were working on. If his bosses trusted him, it was only so far.

In the car, Yaz and Junko barely spoke. When they did it was usually in Japanese. Rama knew a few words, but not enough to pick up a feeling for their conversations. Once or twice, he heard the world Naxis. He had assumed they worked for Naxis, but perhaps not. Perhaps they were just clients in the same way his bosses were. If Naxis were funding them all, he had no idea what their expectations were in Jakarta.

Rama usually wasn’t allowed to carry his own phone while driving. Junko and Yaz had their own entourage and bodyguards. Once one of the guards forgot to search him before escorting them into the car and Rama was able to make a recording of their conversation and translate it later. Most of it was casual talk about their hotel and the prostitutes they were often supplied with. Yaz said something that was hard to follow, but then teased Junko about which she preferred, men or women. Maybe it was an insult or perhaps genuine inquiry. Rama thought about her appearance and they way she dressed like a man. Maybe back home this was a real pressure point. Rama didn’t know how to exploit that yet, but he made a note of it. Junko didn’t respond to it either way. Rama tried to remember her face in the rearview mirror and if she had appeared annoyed or angry at any point. Yaz wanted to go out to bars and it seemed as if Junko was there to keep him on task. She mentioned his father and that kept Yaz quiet for the rest of the trip.

He would ask Rikard the next time he saw him about his transport business. If Rikard were the one to always supply the prostitutes then perhaps he had a woman who could speak Japanese as well as Javanese. Rama was pretty sure he could trust Rikard. If anything, Rikard would probably accept a bribe and figure Rama was trying to collect information for his bosses. If Rikard were bribable, and Yaz were amenable to her advances, perhaps she would overhear something of use.

One night Maliq appeared at his door with new orders. Rama was to start spreading cash around to some of the local loan sharks and underground casinos. Rama had never worked deliveries like that and Maliq called it a test. A test of me or a test of the money, Rama wondered. He was pretty sure this was Naxis money, either being laundered, or perhaps their counterfeiting operations had begun.

The next day Rama began making deliveries to a man named Ruel, a local loan shark who worked out of the back room at a family restaurant. Tall and lanky, Ruel was in the kitchen chopping vegetables when Rama arrived. There was an old man tending the meat and Rama wondered if this really was an actual family restaurant and not just a front. He wasn’t offered anything to eat or drink and was in no position to ask. Ruel was a man of few words and they headed for the back office.

Rama looked around and was instantly shocked by what seemed like madness. There was a tall stack of cash behind his desk. Just sitting there. Ruel saw Rama’s face and laughed.

“The men are afraid and would never consider it. And it makes the customers feel like I’m important.”

It makes me think you’re an idiot, thought Rama.

“That’s not the bosses’ money, is it?”

“All that’s mine. I like to watch it grow and grow.”

There were blood stains on the floor off to the side of the desk.

“Trust me,” continued Ruel, “no one will dare cross me.”

Keep telling yourself that.

They exchanged packages and Rama was given more than he brought. A gift or profit for his bosses.

After Rama left, he realized he was being followed by two men. Were they Ruel’s men protecting their payment or some desperate thief. Rama was in no mood to find out and was in no position to fail his bosses. Rama was about to run when one of the men spoke.

“Police. We’d like to have a word…”

Rama’s day had just gotten a lot worse. He had worked too long and hard to blow his cover over a small shipment like this. If he revealed his was undercover, he might get out of jail easily, but then his bosses would wonder if it was too easy. He could spend the night in the jail, but there was no telling what would happen to the money and Maliq would probably never trust him again with anything important. But if he ran, there was no telling what these officers might do to him.

He had to risk something and trusted his feet more than he did his ability to lie to Maliq. Rama began to run.

Day 146 - Alarm Bells Ring

 Alarm Bells Ring

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Before the alarm finished ringing, 66 was already in stride, pushing his way through the crowded street. He had minutes. Probably less. There had been a sighting. 47 would be on his way as well as a half dozen or more men. He wasn’t worried about 47, but if the other men got their first, he figured the gunman would make quick work of them and slip back into the underground.

They had devised a plan based on a simple principle – the shotgun attacks were happening on purpose. 47 knew more about the city, but it became clear fairly quickly that the gunman was attacking the nine major crime families of Jakarta. If they had figured that out, so too would have the families. And if the families were on the hunt in similar fashion than a chase like this would bring the Dragon Claw, perhaps all nine agents. 66 was confident, but not quite that confident. Reputation and rumor had it they were each as skilled as he. Two against nine and a madman with a shotgun spelled trouble. 66 preferred to be the first at the scene, finish his objective and get out before anyone noticed. Not that it ever was that simple.

The attacks were staged to appear random at a glance, but they were all targeting the lest defended lowest level business operations. Someone knew the families and was playing it as safe as they could. They were also all within walking distance of where the borders of multiple territories touched. Perhaps to hide his intentions in advance, perhaps to aid in his escape. 66 put his sights on four neighborhoods full of burnt-out broken-down buildings a man could hide in. Easy access to the gangs, an easy method to hide. Von had enough men to fill the neighborhoods for surveillance. 66 took one, 47 took another and they rotated between all four. 66 figured if luck was on their side, their surveillance would pick up the gunman after an attack and both he and 47 would be close enough to get there in time. The idea of luck being highly subjective as in this case it would mean he was close enough to engage with a loaded weapon.

66 received constant updates as he ran. Von’s men were closing in. The gunman was certain to be feeling the pressure by now. He had operated too long off simple fear. But he must have known the gangs would eventually fight back. He was outmanned and outgunned. He must have thought he had safe passages in the neighborhoods or a great place to hide. Either way, his luck today was out, but if he did manage to slip away, then this would all be for naught. The pattern would change. The attacks would become more cautious. They would be starting over trying to track and much more dangerous and prepared adversary.

66 saw a man running in the middle of the road, dodging traffic. The man glided through as if there were a preordained path established for only him. He wondered if he had just witnessed his first Agent. He certainly had the confidence and made no attempt to hide himself. And he lacked a shotgun.

66 thought about following him, but that might be perceived as a threat and instigate a fight. He has his own men guiding him and knew where he was going. This would be Agent seemed to be headed to the same general vicinity, but without updates, he’d eventually be lost in the crowd.

Then the shots began to explode. A pistol. An automatic. Then a shotgun. Someone had got there first.

“What happened!” screamed 47 over the radio com in 66’s ear.

One of our men decided to play hero, thought 66.

He heard more screams and gunshots over the radio as people barked orders and others cried and screamed in agony.

Up ahead the crowd was turning into chaos. The shots fired over and over, and the people began to panic.

The Agent paused in the street, then looked towards an alley, turned and ran.

66 saw the crowd up ahead turning and running his way and figured the Agent was on to a good idea.  The crowd was too thick and he couldn’t make to the same alley, but he could head in the general direction.

Updates started coming in again and some of the screaming voices from before had gone silent. Probably a bad sign for them. Maybe Von’s famous drug cocktails would keep them alive long enough to get help, maybe not. 66 didn’t have time to wonder or mourn.

66 turned a corner and nearly tripped over a dead body. He recognized the man, but didn’t know his name. His arm was nearly blown off from a blast from a shotgun. No amount of amphetamines was going to help with that.

66 saw the gunman turn a corner up ahead. 66 leapt back into action.

66 hadn’t expected an evenly matched fight. He chided himself for his arrogance. He was too concerned about Agents and the gun and forgot to consider the man’s other abilities. Plus, he had been healing but he wasn’t all the way healed. 66 wondered where 47 was and wished he was closer.

The gunman was trying to get away, and the moment 66 fell backwards, he turned to run. 66 thanked the gods for small miracles as he had no desire to test himself against a shotgun blast.

66 reached out and grabbed his arm, and that what when he noticed the man’s tattoo – Twenty-Two.

“Who the hell are you?”

This man was twenty-two, but he wasn’t the 22 that 66 knew.

66 got a punch to the face as his answer. Distracted by the mystery, 66 was hit thrown back more than usual. He tried to follow the gunman’s path, but by the time he stood back up, the gunman was lost in the crowd. 66 radioed his location and requested any updates, but he wasn’t hopeful. The gunman was gone, leaving a bigger mystery, just who was he and what had happened to the real 22.

Day 145 - Third Wheel

 

Third Wheel

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Sonny learned very quickly that Officer Declan was less that forthcoming. They were both working on cases involving similar tattoo styles, but Declan felt little need to share his findings or theories. He was more than happy to look at any case files Sonny offered.

Declan had a partner, but she was handling a different case. Or that was the impression Sonny got. Everyone seemed concerned about the shotgun assassin, but Kaylee only worked with them occasionally. She was often out of the station, and when she would report to Declan, they’d leave the room and speak in whispers. Sonny could understand clearances and security concerns, but it was still a bit insulting.

Something about their behavior reminded him of working undercover. Everything was a secret then. He almost never got to report in, and if he did, he was risking his life. Kaylee acted that same way. He had seen many young and inexperienced officers seem nervous like that. But she wouldn’t be at the station if she were undercover. Still, they shared a secret and Sonny wasn’t let in.

Declan suggested they walk the streets and speak to some of his informants. Perhaps one of them had seen the tattoos or could make a connection for them. Eager for any opportunity, Sonny agreed.

Day 144 - Rikard

 Rikard

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

It had been a long lonely night, Rikard was exhausted, but he didn’t want to go home. He dropped the girls off at the hotel, collected his money, and decided to go drink some of that away. Home wasn’t really a home; it was the back room at his mother’s chicken restaurant. Mostly run by him and his adopted brother Vik. Rikard usually handled lunch and Vik ran things at night. Their mother mostly sat in her room. She had mostly stopped cooking five years ago. It should have been before then, but the brothers didn’t have the heart to tell her no. They, and the other cooks and staff, watched her like hawks and made sure no food ever burned or anything worse. Rikard had been handling the money and books for a decade. He and Vik had moments of conflict, but they were mostly agreeable. Vik had been adopted at the age of five, or close to it. A runaway, it was to tell his exact age. Rikard was about a year old, but they were close enough in school and with friends that they always got along. Vik loved his mother as if she were his biological one and stuck around the restaurant for his entire adult life. Rikard wouldn’t have faulted him if he had left, but he respected Vik’s commitment. Helping take care of an aging woman that wasn’t a blood relative was commendable. But even the most dedicated person needed a night off now and then.

Two years earlier Vik had started taking odd jobs around the neighborhood. As chicken sales declined, the extra money helped. Rikard didn’t ask too many questions, just if there was more money to be made. He should have asked more questions. Soon Rikard was working several days a week at the docks, unloading shipments. It was obvious from the men involved and the secretive cargo being unloaded, it was now too late to ask questions. He pretended at first that he didn’t hear the noises coming from inside certain shipping containers. He couldn’t pretend any longer when management promoted him and it was his job to help take care of the contents. Women. It was always women. At first, Rikard just had to drive them from the docks to the hotel, and never talk to them and never ask questions. Sometimes all the women went to one hotel, sometimes they were sent all over town. Sometimes a stranger would come to view them and a few of the women would leave with them.

Rikard didn’t ask questions of his bosses, but he asked Vik. Vik was aware. Strong and athletic, Vik had been given a part time job as a bouncer. Then a bodyguard. Then a driver for certain high-end girls. Rikard asked how much that paid. He never knew the right and wrong time to keep his mouth shut.

Rikard had been driving for five months now. He had heard tears and screams and much worse. He had seen bruises and blood, but was told it was expected and clients had paid for that. Once, and only once he had to beat a man who hadn’t paid properly in advance.

He asked Vik if he had ever beat a man and Vik looked the other way. He asked if he had killed anyone and Vik was silent.

Neither man looked at their mother the same after that.

There had been a spat of violence and his bosses shut things down for a few weeks. Rikard spent his time chopping and cooking chicken and found it more enjoyable than he ever thought possible. Tonight, was his first night back driving women. It had been pouring rain earlier when he delivered a carload of women to a karaoke club. Supposedly they were there to sing and entertain and make sure rich businessmen had a good time. Certain private karaoke rooms had certain private doors and behind those doors were private beds. Rikard had never sung karaoke and needed a bed before. But he didn’t ask questions. It wasn’t like he needed to anyway.

One drink became two and that kept going. He didn’t want to see his mother. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes. He would probably break down in tears. She was probably asleep. She slept so much now. Vik could close the restaurant. He could look after their mother. It was his night to do so anyway, and Rikard couldn’t make himself leave.

After an indeterminate additional drink, three men approached Rikard. He was surrounded and felt the fool. He should have seen them sooner. Should have realized. But there were just too many drinks and too much else on his mind.

“Mind if I sit.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Rikard, I know where you work. Both of your jobs. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“You thinking of getting into the chicken business?”

“We both know that’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay, tell me your offer.”

“Just like that?”

“You’re lucky. It’s been a long day. I’m tired. I am in the mood to listen.”

“What about your brother? Is he willing to listen?”

“I don’t think either of us have grown to love driving for a living.”

“Good. I’m so glad this is cordial and I didn’t have to threaten anyone.”

“You didn’t have to mention that part if you were trying to be so cordial.”

“No, but I wanted to.”

Rikard nodded. He was a little too drunk and was running out of words to say.

“I suppose you know who my bosses are? And who their bosses are? And…”

“And so on and so forth, all the way up. Yes, I am well aware. And trust me, I have plans for all of them.”

Day 143 - Chicken Mafia

 Chicken Mafia

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

“How fast could you kill everyone in this room?”

Seven turned to Five and told him to ignore Three, but Three continued.

“How would you start? Lock the front door? Stop anyone from leaving? But what if they have a back door? Now you’ve got a problem.”

“What is going on with you two?” asked Five.

“Seven said he was ready to fight a hundred men if need be. He must have had a plan. Or else that’s just insane. Is our associate a psychopath? I want to know.”

“I never said I could fight a hundred at a time.”

“You most certainly did.”

“When?”

“When we were backing Five up earlier. I asked what we were doing there and you told me that they employed one hundred fighters there. So, you must have thought we could take fifty each? I apologize to you both. Fifty. Seven thinks he can talk at least fifty men on. So how would you do it?”

“It was a boxing club. We were there to show things were serious. I never said there would be one hundred fighters there all at the same time and that we’d have to take them on.”

“So, you admit it?”

“Fine, I admit I couldn’t fight fifty men at the same time.”

“Good. Now there are only fifteen people here in the restaurant. Maybe three more in the back? So, if you had to, how would you kill them all?”

“Make them listen to this conversation?”

“How fast could you do it?” asked Five.

“I don’t know,” said Three, “but I’d start with you.”

The men laughed.

Seven noticed a woman at the bar. Maybe he had seen her before, maybe not. She was pretty. But Seven saw lots of pretty women. It wasn’t a priority. Still, she seemed to have noticed him. That wasn’t so uncommon either. He’d try to remember her face in case she was from the neighborhood and he saw her again. Tonight, he had more pressing matters.

“You heard anything more about Nine or the investigation?”

Five and Three shook their heads.

“I heard Queenie called in your father though.”

“You think they’re related?”

“Ask him, he’s your dad.”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Not of it’s a family secret.”

“That’s bullshit, there aren’t supposed to be any secrets from us.”

“Then why don’t you ask Queenie?”

“Yeah, she won’t tell me shit.”

“No respect for the office. How are we supposed to do our jobs?”

“Your dad was one helluva fighter. You think he’s training the new Nine?” asked Five.

“I don’t think there is a new Nine. Unless you’ve heard something?”

Five shook his head.

“We’ve got to figure out what happened. We can’t wait on Ten.”

“Rules are rules. Let the system run.”

Seven couldn’t tell them about his conversations with Gideon. He couldn’t tell them he had been tasked with his own private investigation.

“You don’t know what it’s like. He showed up at my door. I still have blood stains on the floor.”

“Sounds like you need a better cleaner.”

“I just want to know. It’s important. Someone got to one of us. It’s a danger to us all.”

“Of course. But it’s not our job.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“You got a plan? You want my help with something?”

Seven thought about the USB drive. He might trust Three, but he wasn’t sure he trusted him that much. He certainly didn’t trust Five that much.

Seven shook his head, then turned to the bar. The woman was gone. The night was full of failures.