Snow White in L.A.
Jason Brody woke up in a cold sweat. Another nightmare from his time in the Rook Islands. He sat up on the edge of his bed and rubbed his tired eyes, looking at his alarm clock. 5 hours sleep, better than most nights. The nightmare he had this time was about the choice to stay or leave the Islands. In his nightmare he decided to stay, slitting the throats of his friends and younger brother one by one. And after making love to Citra she stabbed him in the chest, killing him to make sure he died a warrior. Even though it was just a nightmare he can still feel the blade sinking into his chest, his heart pumping out his life blood in spurts. He's bleed enough times to know what that feels like.
Knowing he won't get any more sleep tonight he gets up and goes to the bathroom. Flushing the toilet after he's done with it, he goes to the sink to wash his hands. Once done, he looks at himself in the mirror. 27 years old, he doesn't look any different than when he first stepped on that Island. Well, he muses, other than the Tatau. And the finger.
Two years now. It's been two years since he got his friends out of that nightmare. But just because they left doesn't mean they left it all behind.
Daisy had the easiest time getting back into their previous life. She had escaped early on in her captivity, being cared for by Dr. Earnhardt while Jason looked for everyone else. Fixing the boat also helped her cope with the kidnapping, as working on something she could control entirely helped her get past her earlier helplessness. She still does professional swimming while fixing mechanical things on the side. There's even talk of her joining the U.S. Olympics team in a few years.
Liza had a harder time than Daisy but she has always been a strong person. Though she missed her acting audition while on the Islands, she was able to land a different role six months after getting back. She's now a regular extra on a TV show, helping her get one step closer to her goal of becoming a famous actress. She still goes to the psychiatrist, but only once a month now. The psychiatrist says that soon she may not need to come anymore.
Oliver coped with his memories by being stoned all the time. A year after returning he was found unresponsive in his parent's living room having nearly overdosed on a mixture of heroin, cocaine and ecstasy. He was put into rehab immediately after being discharged from the hospital and has been there ever since. He has meetings with the shrink there every two weeks and has been recovering pretty well. He's still about a year from being released, but he's far enough along that they allow him to leave the rehab center one weekend per month.
Riley is currently living with their mom, step-dad and younger step-siblings. Once he came back, his experiences came to haunt him in the form of panic attacks whenever he goes outside. As such, he's become mostly a shut in, though Jason has had success in getting him out more and more recently. He still flies small engine planes but never alone, as one time he had a panic attack and was too afraid to land and nearly ran out of fuel. Luckily, he was with an instructor who was able to get them down in time after Jason talked Riley into letting go of the controls. But Riley still has a full blown panic attack when anyone talks about him going outside of LA itself, and the weekly psychiatrist meetings have no sign of ending soon.
Keith though, had it hardest out of all of them. Though Riley was in captivity the longest, Volker's men hadn't actually done anything to him other than keep him imprisoned. But with Keith, well, the only regret Jason had regarding Buck was killing him so quickly. Keith had an identity crisis a few months after their return. First he thought he was gay, and then he thought he was a woman, and then he thought about Trans surgery before having a breakdown during one of his lunch breaks. Jason got a frantic call from Keith's girlfriend, saying Keith was talking about him being the queen of the world or something like that. Jason busted ass to Keith's location, barely stopping him from jumping off an overpass. Keith mainly works from his condo now and has bi-weekly appointments with his psychiatrist and meets weekly with a rape survivors group. Keith no longer has an identity crisis, but he still has trouble talking about what happened, relying on Jason and booze to help him get through the hard times.
For Jason, though, getting back to a normal life wasn't actually too difficult for him. After getting back and having the funeral for Grant, he didn't work for a few months, busy with making sure that everyone else was still ok. He then worked a few dead end jobs before becoming a Hollywood stunt actor. Liza got him that first job and he was good enough that they kept bringing him back for more roles. The pay was all right and he supplemented his income by becoming a bartender in one of the many bars around L.A. He's popular enough now that he actually makes more money from bartending than doing stunts.
He splashed some water on his face to help him fully wake up. It is 8 a.m. now and he has nothing to do. There was no stunt work today and the bar didn't open until 4 meaning he didn't need to come in until 3. So with nothing to do, he decided to leave his studio apartment to go shopping for groceries then relax in a public park afterwards.
Plans made, he exited his bathroom to change.
The park is nice. It's the one he usually goes to whenever he needs to unwind. At this time of day there were only a few people around. Soccer moms and other 'spiritual' people doing yoga, a few college students skipping classes to relax outside, a few other people walking their dogs, food vendors, it was peaceful.
Jason is sitting in a bench by the pond, letting himself get lost in the nature that surrounds him. Of course, this being L.A. the sounds of the city were still everywhere around him but he could tune those out with a little effort. Ever since he fully unlocked his Tatau, he had felt closer to nature then to the manmade world. Maybe it was something mystical, maybe it was just because he had spent so much time being surrounded by nothing but jungle, but being here now helped him feel at ease.
So Jason has been sitting there, arms spread on the bench backrest with his head leaned back, eyes closed when he sensed a group of people come close. He knew it was just the college kids as he keeps track of everything that goes around him, part of the survival instincts that wouldn't go away. So he dismissed them, letting his mind diffuse when one of the kids went, "Damn bro, cool tattoos man. Where'd you get them?"
Jason cracked his left eye open to see 4 frat boys and 2 sorority girls just to his left. One of the boys was behind the bench, bent over his left arm and admiring the Tatau. Not wanting to get into a conversation about that piece of his past he simply said "Southeast Asia" and closed his eye again. Well, that wasn't a lie. He's not exactly sure where the Rook Islands are but considering that it was a single engine plane ride away from Thailand it has to be there somewhere.
The frat boy didn't get the hint to leave him alone though and talked some more. "Dude man, these are some sweet tats. Hey Joey, look at this shit, it looks killer." If he only knew. "What is that a shark? Look at these designs I've never seen any like this before." The others started crowding around his left arm. Another one, he's guessing this one is Joey, said "Brah man, these are totally rad, who was your artist?"
Figuring that they wouldn't leave until he satisfied their curiosity, Jason exhaled deeply through his nostrils before opening his eyes on focusing on the group that is now gathered in front of him. But while Riley or Keith would start getting nervous in this situation he knows he's able to kill every single person around him with little to no effort before he squashed that line of thinking. Not everyone is out to kill him. It helps that these college kids are dressed in the UCLA blue and gold which to him meant allies (well, until they kidnapped his friends at least).
So straightening his seating posture, he held his left arm up so that the kids could get a better look. "The base Tatau was put on by a man named Dennis who was from Liberia. He put on the Tatau of the Shark, Heron and Spider."
"Just the base brah?" asked Joey.
"Yeah, just the base" he replied. He put the arm down, remembering how he got the others. "The rest, you have to earn."
"Really? How do you earn them? Is there like a test? Cause, like, I got these other tats brah and I think those would be a killer addition, know what I'm saying?" With that statement, Joey lifted up the left side of his shirt, revealing tribal tattoos going up and down the side of his abdomen. He also pulled up the left sleeve of his t-shirt to show even more tribal ink and swirls.
Jason was impressed that he could earn himself so many Tatau when he realized that Joey merely went into a shop and paid for them. They didn't have any meaning other than he thought that they looked cool. His brother Grant had a tattoo, but that was to commemorate him passing U.S. Army Basic with his buddies. Jason had forgotten that people no longer got tattoos to commemorate important things, they got them just because they think it would get them laid or show of an edgy lifestyle that they desperately want to fit in with.
So Jason took a close look at Joey while he showed off his tattoos to his friends again. The hair, the sunglasses, the designer shirt and jeans, he looked like a west coast member of the Jersey Shore. Jersey Shore Los Angeles. A wanna be Guido who is definitely not Italian.
Jason had to shake his head at that. Once Joey was done showing off Jason told him "You have to earn them through your actions, to show that you are worthy and that their power is not wasted on you. But once you earn them, they're a real game changer."
One of the girls asked the next question, "Earn them? Like, go on a spiritual journey or something? Cause that is like, totally awesome. I'm sooooo spiritual, I'm into yoga and shamanism and everything."
Joey got more excited "Yeah brah, what do I have to do to get them? I'm totally spiritual, I'm in touch with my spirit animal and everything!"
'Sure you are' though Jason, 'You want to earn these Tatau? Kill your enemies, kill your worse foe, kill more people than you've ever met and kill a giant ink monster demon.Then go balls out against a large slave organization and nearly kill your friends because you were drugged by a woman who wanted you to sire the next generation of warriors.' Jason didn't say any of that of course. Instead, he got up from his seat and stretched his arms above his head. He looked over to the kids "It's different for everyone. I had to go on both a spiritual and physical journey to earn these Tatau. I can't give you any advice other than to be stronger than you think you can be. You'll be amazed with what you can do if you push your limits."
And with that, Jason turned and walked away from them, hands in his cargo shorts. Behind him he could hear the kids start talking to each other.
"Like, that was soooo deep and spiritual. And he's pretty hot too. Think he's single?"
"Babe, I'm standing right here! Besides, I'm way hotter than that guy right babe?"
"Sure Dean, you're smoking hot whatever. Say Chelsea, what do you think he does for a living?"
"Not cool babe, not cool."
Laughter erupted from the group of kids, all enjoying the moment at their friends' expense. They continued arguing though he couldn't make out what they were saying anymore. Walking out of the park, he decided to go back to his apartment until it was time to go to work.
The Bar was pretty lively tonight. The owner decided to try an open mic night for some reason and all sorts of drunks were going up on stage to try their rendition of Thrift Shop by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. It wasn't pretty, or musical, but it brought in a lot of people which meant a lot of business and some nice tips.
It also brought in more than a few women who wanted to get to know the dark mysterious tattooed bar tender better. Jason however, was not interested. Partly because of what happened with Citra, but mainly because of Liza. They were dating again, after a year and a half apart, and they were getting serious once more.
Two guys got on stage this time and decided to sing a duet together. Jason wasn't sure but he thinks it was a Beetles song. Or it could have been Led Zeppelin. Or Blue Oyster Cult. There are a lot of slurred words and yelling it's hard to tell.
But while that was going on another group of people were starting to get rowdy on the patio. He could see the bouncer, Martin, go over to them to try and break up the two groups before a fight happened. He didn't have much luck so another bouncer, Frank, went to help him before things got out of hand. But even with Frank there things were still getting heated so Jason got out from behind the bar and made his way over to them. Just as he got out onto the patio he heard one of the guys yell "Nigger!" and that's when the first punch was thrown, connecting beautifully into the face of the guy who said it. After that, all hell broke loose.
Martin and Frank were holding two people back by themselves but that still left 4 on each side free to duke it out between the tables and chairs. That was not acceptable so Jason calmly strolled up to the large melee and went to work.
He grabbed the first guy by the head and slammed it onto the edge of the table hard enough to knock him out but not kill him. Jason uppercut the guy he was fighting with in the stomach with enough force to make him blow chunks. With those two out of the fight, one of their friends barreled towards him with a haymaker, which Jason dodged and then used the guy's momentum to enhance his knee to the liver. Jason pushed him to the side and took a half step back before clotheslining the guy who tried to bum rush him from the left into a full back flip. He then separated another two who were busy fighting, kicking one in the chest so hard he flew back four feet and flipped over the patio rail into the bushes, then punched the other guy in the sternum making him lose his breathe while cracking his breast bone. Finally, it came down to the last two troublemakers who were grappling with each other. He walked up to them and grabbed their heads, separating them momentarily before slamming their foreheads into each other with enough energy that he could hear their skulls fracture. Now limp, he made sure they were both still breathing before letting them drop to the floor, both out cold.
From the moment he grabbed the first guy to the moment the last two fell to the floor less than 15 seconds had passed. He surveyed the scene before him, overlooking the ones who were knocked out and making sure the ones who were still conscious wouldn't be getting back up soon. The four Frank and Martin were holding back looked at him with wide eyes, having trouble believing what they just saw. Even Frank and Martin were speechless. Jason wasn't even breathing hard.
So with all eyes on him, he calmly said "Gentlemen," making everyone within earshot twitch, "fighting is not allowed on the premises. I suggest you pay your tabs and take your friends home before anything else happens tonight. Agreed?" The two he is looking at frantically nodded their heads. He looked to the other two who repeated the action. "Thank you for your cooperation. Frank, Martin, you two good?"
That seemed to get the two bouncers out of their stupefied state. "Yeah man, I'm good, you good Martin?"
"Yeah, I'm not hurt or nothin."
"Good to hear" stated Jason. He started to make his way back inside, not paying attention to the people on the floor, passing by the one that was still dry heaving on his knees while using a table to support himself without even looking. "I'll be at the bar if you need me" and patted both bouncers on the arm as he passed by them.
Once inside, only a few people were staring at him as the fight ended quickly enough as to not draw too much attention from those in the building. The two on stage were still singing and Jason could finally make out that it is an Aerosmith song. Shaking his head in mirth, he slipped back behind the bar and started handing out drinks to the customers.
Nothing of note happened after the fight ended though the owner did talk to him about getting involved, saying that he should leave it to the bouncers next time. Still, the owner thanked him for helping Frank and Martin out by ending the fight so quickly and gave him an extra $200.
Today is his night off from bartending, and he planned to spend it watching a movie with his family. His mom, step-dad, Riley and Liza were all coming, with the other children having to stay as it is a school night. Even though it had been released a couple of months before, none of his family had wanted to see Edge of Tomorrow until he casually mentioned that he had been an extra in the movie. He could actually pick out which one he was as they were always in the same formation when they were shooting scenes. Hell, his face was even visible in a few frames of the movie though he had no spoken lines.
So on his night off they decided to spend it as a family. Riley didn't even need to be convinced to leave the house. Jason saw this as an encouraging sign and hoped that Riley has a good time tonight. Liza showed up at his apartment a few hours early and kissed him hungrily, saying that she missed being together with him. They made love to each other until it was time to leave, making small talk during their pauses. She reaffirmed that she still wants to be together with him and was wondering if they should move in together. He agreed, getting a glowing smile and another round of love making for his answer.
But now they had finished watching the movie and were going to get something to eat. Jason is in front, holding hands with Liza with Riley walking beside Jason and his mom and step-dad behind them all. They were all talking about the ending when they were surrounded by 7 gang members. Jason hadn't noticed them as he had been too happy with how his life seemed to be turning up and therefore lowered his guard. He cursed himself as he backed everyone against the building, making sure to stand in front of everyone.
"Sup homies" the apparent leader said. They were all wearing either baseball or sports jackets with baggy pants. The leader had some gold grills and chains and was wearing a green bandana. "As you can see here, my peoples and I are looking for donations. So if you could so kindly give us everything you got, we can all be on our merry way." He smiled at his own cleverness, the other gang members chuckling as they made a semi-circle to block any escape path. "But if you give us troubles" and pulled a Glock from the front of his waist band and pointed it at them sideways, "I can't guarantee that –"
He didn't get to finish speaking as Jason rushed forward, grabbing the wrist and breaking it with his right hand. As soon as the fingers went limp, Jason grabbed the gun and pistol whipped the leader across the face, still holding onto the leader's broken wrist with his left hand. The first to react was at the very left, so Jason brought the gun around and put two bullets in his chest and another two in his head before he could draw his gun. Jason then tossed the leader onto the two gang members on the left side, before drawing his combat knife in a reverse grip and charging the first gang member on his right, plunging the blade into his heart while simultaneously shooting the gangster furthest on the right between the eyes. He continued his charge and ripped the knife out sideways, ensuring he would blead out, knocking the gun of the next gangster up in the air before getting around behind him, flipping the knife around and putting it across his throat. The last two finally got disentangled from their leader and drew their guns, pointing it at Jason and his meat shield. "LET HIM GO HOMIE! I SAID LET HIM –"each received a bullet in the forehead before they could aim properly. The last one still standing started pleading with him "I don't wanna die man, please, I wasn't gonna do nothing, don't kill me man, don't – gurgle." Jason didn't' believe in letting his enemies live so he sliced his throat, deep enough to have a fountain of blood spray out. He fell to the ground, hand around his neck to futilely try and stop the bleeding. That only left the leader of this little gang alive, who had finally gotten up off the ground. He pulled out a switchblade and ran towards Jason screaming "I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" With a flick of the wrist, Jason embedded his combat knife into the leader's chest, right where his heart is.
The leader staggered backwards, looking down at the knife sticking out of his chest in disbelief. His back hit a car that was parked on the street, which stopped him from falling on the ground. "I'm-I'm hurt" he said in a shocked voice, "somebody, somebody call an ambulance." Jason just calmly walked towards him. "He-hey can, can someone help me? I'm hurt." He dropped his switch blade and brought his hand up to the knife sticking out of his chest. "I got, I got stabbed homie." Unfocused eyes looked up at Jason as he came to a stop in front of his last victim. "Can you help me?"
Jason responded by gripping the blade with his left hand and twisting. He made a complete 180 degree rotation before pulling out the knife, leaving a ragged hole in the gang leader's chest where his heart should be.
And as his last of his enemy fell dead, Jason felt something he hasn't felt in two years. He should have known better. He thought he could keep his demons from coming out. He thought leaving that place with his friends validated his belief that he was no longer a monster. Tonight proved different. He's still the monster he once was. The only difference is that he can hide it better. Because only now, when surrounded by the dead bodies of his enemies and a weapon in each hand, does he feel complete.
He stood there for a few moments, enjoying the feeling. The silence around him was comforting but was interrupted by a voice shouting "POLICE! PUT THE GUN DOWN!"
Jason looked to his left and saw two police officers with their guns drawn and pointed at him. He turned so that he was facing them squarely. "I SAID PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS! NOW!" shouted the one on his right. Jason figured he would shoot that one first then charge forward and finish him off with the knife if he wasn't dead yet. Then, using the body as cover he would shoot the other officer in the "Jason stop!"
Liza had shouted at him. He turned his head to look at her. She had moved close to him while he was focusing on the new threat. "Jason, please, you don't need to fight them. Please, just drop the gun" she pleaded. He didn't understand. Not fight them? They were a pointing guns at him, of course he had to fight them. "Jason, we're not on the island anymore. Please, just put down your gun." Island? What did that have to do with anything? Enemies are before him and she's talking about islands? He hasn't been on an island since they-he realized what she meant.
A few more seconds and he would have slaughtered those two officers just as easily as he killed these gang bangers. Put in a life and death situation he had reverted back into the predator mindset. He felt his Tatau tingling, telling him that it was overjoyed he had spilled blood. He could feel it throbbing now, encouraging him to give into his bloodlust and kill those who opposed him. And he wanted to. He wanted to let go of his control so badly, to let his instinct take over him and guide his body into glorious combat. But if he did that now there truly would be no going back. But did he even want to go back? Back to bartending and stunt work in movies. Back to a life with no excitement.
He looked into her eyes and saw fear. The fear he saw wasn't fear of him, it was a fear for him. Fear that she would lose him. Fear that he would lose himself. Fear that after everything, he truly hasn't left that island. And it was that fear that convinced him to drop his weapons. He had learned to kill to survive, to get vengeance for his brother, to be the best so that nothing could threaten him anymore. But all those reasons were eclipsed by one thing and one thing only: the desire to keep his friends and family safe. It was what allowed him to put the knife down when Citra had demanded blood. It allowed him to walk away from it all and move on. And now, it just saved him from once again making the wrong choice.
He dropped the gun and knife, not taking his eyes away from Liza. She smiled at him, putting her hand on his arm and giving him a comforting squeeze before stepping back and mouthing 'it's going to be ok.' He smiled at her, looked over at his family and smiled at them before focusing once more on the police officers. They hadn't moved and were still pointing their guns at him, so he slowly raised his hands above his head. He followed their orders, moving forward towards them and not resisting when they put him in handcuffs. He sat against a building where they told him to sit and waited for a squad car to take him to a police station. It was going to be a long night.
One day had passed since he killed those gang members. Jason was currently in a cell by himself. Initially, they had put him in a cell with a bunch of other prisoners. There seemed to be a mix up with what to do with him, because after what he did they definitely should have put in by himself from the start. It had taken several hours to get witness statements from Liza and his family, as well as process the scene, during which he sat in the police car. It was 2 a.m. before he was booked in the police station and put in the general lockup. It had apparently been a busy night as the lockup was almost at capacity, which probably helped explain the confusion with where he should have been placed.
So Jason was just sitting against the bars, resting his eyes but not sleeping when four bikers walked up on him. They were all large, older white men, with various lengths of hairs and beards. The leader was bald with a big lumberjack type beard. He stood in front of Jason with his posse behind him and said "Give me your shoes."
Jason half opened his eyes and asked "Why do you want my shoes?" The biker leader, who Jason dubbed Beardy, chuckled and said "Apparently you didn't hear me so I'll make this simple," drew back his right hand and tried to punch Jason in the face. Jason casually caught the fist with his left easily. The bikers were all shocked at this turnaround. Jason figured he would head off any more problems and decided to inform every one of the new pecking order.
Jason squeezed and the hand in his grip broke. Before Beardy could scream, Jason stood up and head butted him, breaking his nose and making him fall on his back. He then grabbed the biker on his left by the shirt and slammed his face into the bars behind him. He shot a knife hand into the throat of the one on the farthest right before grabbing the last biker by the head and bringing it down on his knee. Jason hit him right in the mouth, causing several teeth and quite a bit of blood to come out. With all four either knocked out, gasping for breath or rolling on the ground in pain, he walked up to the one who demanded his shoes. Beardy was lying on his back, looking up crossed eyed at the ceiling.
Jason crouched down beside his head. "Hey Beardy" Jason said, trying to get his attention. "Hey, can you hear me?" he asked, snapping his fingers in front of Beardy's face a few times. Getting no response, Jason saw that his leather vest had a patch with the name 'Todd' on it so head patted Todd's cheek a few times. "Hey Todd. Todd. Can you hear me?" That seemed to do the trick, as Todd blinked a few times and was able to focus on Jason. "Good. So Todd, you want my shoes? Is that what you want Todd?" Jason stood up to his full height. "Well Todd, here you go." Jason raised his right foot and slammed it down on Todd's throat. Jason controlled his strength well. Even though he could have easily broken Todd's neck Jason simply crushed his wind pipe. Todd had a whole body spasm when Jason brought his foot down and was now making pitiful wheezing noises in his attempts to breathe. With that done, Jason surveyed the rest of the cell. All the other prisoners were backed as far away from him as possible, fear evident in every line of their bodies. The prisoners in the other cells were yelling, a loud cacophony of noise that would no doubt bring an officer here soon. With the lesson over Jason turned around and walked back to his seat, sat down, leaned against the bars and once more closed his eyes.
The officers that responded to the yelling immediately called ambulances for the four on the ground, while Jason was handcuffed again and led to a private cell. With no watch and no windows he couldn't tell exactly what time it was. But his internal clock, which he perfected on the Rook Islands, told him that it was around one in the afternoon the following day. He had been served breakfast and lunch through on a metal tray that came through a slot in the door along with his drink. In between, he mostly laid back on the bed and tried to sleep. He was actually successful, only waking up whenever his food was delivered or an officer checked on him.
Another hour passed while he unsuccessfully tried to go to sleep before he heard his cell tray and observation slot open. Cracking his eye open as he shouldn't be feed so soon, he saw an officer looking into the cell. "Jason Brody," he said, "you have an interview with two detectives and your lawyer. Proceed to the door and put your hand through the tray slot to be handcuffed." Jason exhaled deeply and got up, going to the door at a sedate pace. He put his hands through the slot and didn't fight as the officer put him in handcuffs. Once they were on, the door was unlocked and opened. The officer took his arm and led him through the hallways to the interview room. Once there, Jason sat down while the officer put the handcuff links underneath a metal bar on the table, before pushing the bar down to lock it. The officer tugged it a few times to makes sure it was locked in place before leaving. Jason looked around and observed that it looked exactly like the interview rooms he sees in police dramas; bare walls, four metal chairs around metal table bolted to the floor, a one way mirror on the side and two cameras up in the corners to record everything.
Jason didn't have to wait long before the door opened and three people came in. The first was a balding, mustached overweight white man with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows and his tie loosened, carrying a folder in his right hand a Styrofoam cup in his left. After him came a middle aged woman with brown hair tied back into a pony tail wearing plain looking business suit and no tie, also carrying a Styrofoam cup. The last person was a man with short white hair, wearing an expensive three piece suit, glasses and an expensive silver watch while carrying a briefcase. The last person addressed him first. "Jason Brody? I name is Adam Ridgefield your lawyer. Your family retained my services this morning. I will be representing you during this interview and any subsequent interviews until your release or trial. Only answer questions I tell you to answer and do not answer any questions I tell you not to answer." Jason nodded at the man and he sat down next to Jason, putting his briefcase on the ground and pulling out a recorder from his inside pocket before putting it on the table and hitting record. The overweight Detective sat across from Jason while the lady leaned back against the wall behind her partner.
The male detective put the folder and his cup on the table before addressing Jason. "Jason Brody, my name is Detective Smithfield, yes, just like the ham, and behind me is Detective Lopez. As you and your lawyer have been introduced to each other let's get the pleasantries out of the way." Detective Smithfield started reading him his Miranda rights from a little business card just like on TV. Once he was done he asked if Jason understood his rights, which Jason replied with a "Yes" after getting a nod from Mr. Ridgefield.
"Ok Jason, we are here to discuss what happened last night and determine if charges need to be filed" stated the detective. Before he could continue Mr. Ridgefield interrupted him "Before we get to that, is it necessary for my client to be handcuffed to the table? That seems a bit excessive don't you think?" The two detectives looked at each other in confusion before Detective Smithfield turned to Mr. Ridgefield and said "Mr. Ridgefield, your client is accused of killing seven people last night. After that, he sent four people that were in lock up to the hospital with serious injuries, I think that –""What four people" Mr. Ridgefield interrupted, "I didn't hear anything about another four people. I only know about the seven last night."
Detective Smithfield opened up the folder in front of him and flipped over a few pages. "Last night, around 2:30 a.m., Jason was confronted by four individuals that were in general lockup. Jason and the four individuals got into an altercation which resulted in hospitalization of the four individuals. One had a concussion, another a broken trachea, a third had all of his front teeth knocked out and the last had most of the bones in his right hand broken, a broken nose and a crushed wind pipe. The last injury required emergency surgery and the individual is expected to be hospitalized for the next several months with food, water and oxygen being provided through a tube for the foreseeable future. This is on top of the seven fatalities Jason is accused of last night, so you can excuse our caution." Mr. Ridgefield looked a little uncomfortable with the explanations of the injuries but didn't bring up any more objections to the treatment Jason was getting. "So, moving on, I would like to ask Jason questions regarding the incident last night he was involved in that led to seven fatalities." A few more pages were flipped over in the folder, coming to a set of pictures which the Detective started spreading in front of Jason. "These seven deceased individuals are all known affiliated gang members with each having a rap sheet, mostly minor crimes like burglary with a few serving time for assault. The leader of this little posse" he tapped the picture in the middle, "is Terrell 'Hot Stuff' Jones, an up and coming member of the East Side Kings, of whom all of the people killed last night were low ranking members of." He pulled out a few more pictures, this time zoomed in on a tattoo that they had on the necks. "Each gang member is identifiable by this tattoo that they have placed on their necks after their initiation." The tattoo is a stylized capital E turned sideways with circles above the stubs to make it look like a crown. "It is unknown at the time why they were at the location last night as that area is well outside their gang's area of control. It doesn't look like they are trying to push for more territory, so it is most likely just a case of attempted burglary outside their regular area of operation. So Jason, please walk me through what happened last night after you left the Cinema."
Jason looked at Mr. Ridgefield, who nodded his head. "We had just finished seeing Edge of Tomorrow." "Who is 'we' Mr. Brody, please be specific" interrupted the Detective. So Jason started over, "My step-dad, my mother, my younger brother Riley and my girlfriend Liza had just finished watching Edge of Tomorrow, the 7:15 showing, and were walking towards a Diner to get something to eat. As we were about halfway there we were surrounded by seven individuals. We backed up against the building and the leader started talking about how he wanted everything we had. He pulled out a gun and so I defended myself."
Mr. Ridgefield interrupted him this time, "Let it show on the record that my client did not initiate hostilities. The deceased individual is the one who pulled out the weapon."
Detective Smithfield sighed in exasperation, "Yes Mr. Ridgefield that coincides with the other witness statements we received. Please continue Jason."
Jason shrugged. "There's not much more to say. When he pulled out the gun I neutralized the threats."
The Detective looked annoyed. "I was hoping for more details Mr. Brody."
His lawyer responded for him "You have the crime scene analysis. I think that you have more than enough details from that in regards to the incident what more do you want?"
"I want, in Jason's own words, exactly what he did that resulted in the deaths of seven individuals last night."
"The autopsies should reveal what happened. Do you not trust your coroner's work?"
"This isn't about –"the door opened before the Detective could finish. It was another older looking man with white hair, a gun and badge on his belt. "Detectives, I need you to step out of the room for a moment. You too Mr. Ridgefield."
Detective Lopez talked first "Captain, what are you talking about? We just started the interview about the seven fatalities last night."
"And I'm not leaving my client alone in a police interrogation room" stated Mr. Ridgefield.
"Detectives, Mr. Ridgefield, this is not a request. I need you three to vacate the room for at least 10 minutes. Mr. Ridgefield, you have my guarantee that no police officers will enter the room without you present. So ladies and gentlemen, please come with me." The Captains voice brokered no room for arguments. The Detectives looked at each other before moving towards the door. Mr. Ridgefield was conflicted but Jason said "Go ahead Mr. Ridgefield, I'll be fine." He looked at Jason before nodding and getting up, leaving his briefcase and the recorder on the table. The door closed and Jason was all alone. But not for long.
The red light on the cameras that indicated they were receiving power turned off. And he had the distinct impression that whoever was on the other side of the one way mirror was not the same group of people that were there when the Detectives first came to interview him.
The door opened and in walked a ghost of the past. He walked up to the table and turned off the recorder.
"Well, well, Jason Brody, Snow White himself. Captured by the L.A.P.D. Who would've thought?"
Jason looked at the man. He looked the same. Even down to the beige blazer and dress pants. And of course, he was wearing sunglasses. "Agent Huntley, why am I not that surprised to see you here."
"Nice to see you too Jason. How have the years been treating you?" Huntley took a seat in the detectives vacated chair, picking up and sniffing the coffee before grimacing in disgust and putting it down. "You never call, you never write, and all of a sudden I get a notification from Langley that a person of interest has been arrested in L.A. Luckily, I was on the west coast for some downtime. Just got back from Tibet you see. Did you know most of Tibet is Buddhist? Most of them don't eat beef. I mean, how can you trust someone that doesn't eat steak, that's completely un-American. So anyways, I get a call from Langley telling me that an old asset of mine had been captured. So of course, they had to cut my vacation time short to see if the asset was compromised and in need of sanitizing."
Jason was unperturbed. "So that's why you're here? To sanitize me?"
"I don't know Jason. Do I need to sanitize you?"
Jason leaned forward towards Huntley and looked him straight in the eyes. "You and I both know that these handcuffs and this table aren't enough to stop me from killing you before your men can shoot me through that window. So what are you really here for Huntley?"
The Agent laughed at that. "That's what I wanted to see. You haven't lost it yet Jason. Two years, and you haven't lost your edge yet. Last night reminded me of what you are capable of, but this talk right here convinced me of your usefulness." Huntley looked at the mirror and made a motion with his hands. Jason had the feeling that the people on the other side just put away their guns. "I'm here to give you a job offer Jason. Something that requires a man of your unique skills."
Jason remained unmoved. "My unique skills? Let me guess: I have a particular set of skills, skills that make me a nightmare for the people you hunt."
Huntley chuckled at that. "Good one. Not too far off the mark either. You got your skills in order to save your friends but you're wasting them now. Bartending? Stunt work? One is something a trained monkey could do and the other requires being able to take a hit with no health insurance. What I'm offering takes your full potential and makes them shine, shine, shine. You'll get to travel the world, do a lot of interesting things in interesting places. Meet interesting people."
"And kill them? My brother was in the army, I've heard the speech before."
"But you haven't heard it like this yet. You will get full backing from the Agency. Money, guns, identities, local contacts you'll be a ghost among ghosts, a legend in wet work. I won't lie to you Jason; you're one in a hundred million. Seasoned agents couldn't pull off what you did. I should know, I'm one of the best and I was stuck until you came along. Short of a full scale invasion, I couldn't think of a way to get rid of Vaas and Volker. But you did it, and you did it mostly by yourself. So, what do you think?"
Jason leaned back in his chair as far as he could. "I think that I'm not interested."
"Come on Jason. The Agency is even willing to give you a down payment by making this investigation go away and the charges disappear."
Jason remained unconvinced. "I think that the Agency will do that anyways, regardless of whether I say yes or no to your offer."
Huntley raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what makes you think the Agency is willing to do that?"
"Payment for services rendered."
"What are you talking about?"
Jason leaned forward once more. "Rook Islands. You said it yourself, you were stuck until I came along. Sam wasn't able to do anything by himself and both Vaas and Volker were eliminated only through my actions. You were there for who knows how long, trying to come up with an idea of what to do. And then in came me, the answer to all your problems."
Huntley got an annoyed look on his face. "I paid you back by getting you to the southern islands."
"That was payment for helping you get off the islands entirely. Let's be honest, you couldn't have fended off all those pirates by yourself. So, as payment for cleaning up the CIA's mess, you will get them to drop all charges and let me go."
"What do you mean the CIA's mess?"
"Oh please," Jason scoffed, leaning back, "The CIA didn't send you to the Islands for some altruistic reason. You were there to eliminate Volker, probably because he stopped supplying drug money to the CIA. You'll be amazed what kind of documents Volker's men just kept lying around for anybody to read. And the more I was trusted, the more I was able to access. I didn't get the whole picture but I got a pretty good look. The whole operation had the CIA's prints all over it. That's why you and Sam were sent. Don't deny it Huntley, we're both smarter than that."
Huntley just stared at Jason for a few minutes before barking out a laugh. "HA! I knew I liked you kid. All right. For services rendered, the Agency will get these charges dropped and you released. We'll make something up, war on terror or something to justify it. The job offer still stands though."
"Like I said, I'm not interested."
"You don't have to answer now." Huntley stood up, "I'll call you in a week."
As Huntley got to the door Jason said once more "I'm not interested" causing Huntley to stop and turn towards him.
"Kid, that Island changed you. You can't go back to who you were before, it's pointless to try. That Island killed that kid, and who you were you will never be again. It changed you to something more, something deadly, a killer of men and beasts. Before I leave, let me quote some Hemmingway for you. 'There is no hunting like the hunting of man. And those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.'" There was a brief pause as Huntley looked at Jason and Jason looked at the wall. "It's a big decision. Think it over. I'll call you in a week for your answer."
Huntley opened the door and left, leaving Jason alone.
True to his word, Jason was released half an hour later. He shook hands with Mr. Ridgefield and went to his apartment to shower and change, then went straight to work. He called his family and Liza, telling them that all charges had been dropped.
As much as he didn't want to, he spent most of the following week thinking about Huntley's job offer. He didn't discuss it with anyone other than Liza as he didn't think it was any of their business. Liza simply said "Do what you think is right Jason. I'll support you no matter what your answer is. But make sure you are doing this for you, not for anyone else."
So here he was, a week later, still trying to figure out his answer. He was once more in the park, sitting on his usual bench by the pond when his phone rang. Looking at the caller I.D., it showed it was a blocked number. He answered it, hearing the voice he expected.
"So Jason, have you made your decision yet?"
Jason was quiet for a little bit. He had made his decision. He made his decision before Huntley had left the room. The past week had just been him justifying it to himself.
So he gave the only answer he could possibly give.
###
AN
And that is my one shot for Far Cry 3. The title gave me hell, as I couldn't think of what to name it so you people got that half assed title.
I got motivated to write this story as there didn't seem to be any good Jason Brody stories post Rook Islands. As such, I wrote this, banged out over three days while I got writers block on my Gundam Wing/Mass Effect crossover.
For now this is a one shot. If I get enough interest I may expand it though I don't really have any ideas of where this story would go.
Please leave a review on the way out.