The General stood before the abandoned Angel of Mercy hospital. He did this often, looking at what could be his crowning achievement, his grand contribution to the Blacklight cause. Still, it would be just a silly dream until he made it real, and if his enemies had their way then such a thing would never come to pass. But he would not let them win. With all his will and power he would make sure that they would pay for even daring to stand against him.
When he thought of this, he was not referring to the mere humans that opposed him. They could literally be defeated with a single breath. All it would take would be to walk up to them and breathe out one of the many unstable strains of Blacklight and it would be done. It was the quick and easy way of handling it but not the most productive.
But when the General thought of the ones that opposed him it was people like Eden, whispers in the night that sought to dismantle everything that was Blacklight. Eden had come to Miami and somehow was finding his Infected and using some poor fool to do its dirty work, this so-called Ice Truck Killer, one that had apparently taken a interest in Dexter Morgan. If that was the battlefield that Eden had chosen, so be it. It would be a proxy-battle of killers supported by Viral Beings.
"If you wish to kill me… then you have not brought nearly enough men." The General said absently as he glanced at the several thugs that were encircling him. All of them were of the last remaining hold out that was putting up a fight. Leading them was Carlos Guerrero, a silly criminal that had at least enough cunning to take the violence directly to his biggest enemy. If the General had remained human than he would consider the man a worthy adversary. But that was not reality.
"Our boss wants you and your boys out of Miami… I'm not really thinking you'll do that. But there are ways to get what the boss wants." One of the thugs said with a savage smirk as he and his fellow goons pulled out their weapons. Pointless and suicidal, this happened far too often for Guerrero not have gotten the message. The General did not hide, he did not fear being found.
"Haven't we been through this before? Or maybe Guerrero wasn't one of those that learned the lesson of what happens when… no… I'm sure I have sent his enforcers back to him learned men." The General said as he walked over to the nearest thug. Under his suit a mass of viral tissue was rippling at the ready to form the mutations and weapons of battle.
"Quédate atrás bastardo." The thug snarled as it rushed forward with a crowbar, only to be decapitated with a single finger stroke. This attack was something that the General had developed all on his own: the Micro Bio-Claws. On the surface, his hands appeared human, but the underside was sharpened to a deadly razor. Its effect was undeniable in every instance, a fact the General remained proud of.
"W-what the fuck…" One of the other thugs gasped as he tried to understand what he just saw. The General thought about just leaving it at that, letting them go so that they could spread the word of just how pointless it was to challenge the leader of the Saints of Samedi. No, he had done that before and it did not show the wanted outcome of the attacks ending and leaving him in peace. So before the thugs could turn and run he lifted his hands and shot out a bladed tendril into each of their necks. A series of thumps rang out as they all dropped to the ground.
"What a waste…" The General mumbled as he pulled out his cellphone. "… Oscar, send a clean-up crew to the north side of the Angel of Mercy. No, I have a reservation that I don't wish to ruin by eating now. Yes… yes you may go ahead with your little ploy." The gang leader said before he hung up and took one last look to the abandoned hospital. "Soon… very soon."
Dexter was floating in the water. As he lay there, lazily suspended in the river, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. This was the one place that he could be sure that he was alone. If anyone came near him, he would feel the ripples they created in the water and Blacklight for all its powers had a weakness to it. Something about cell walls not being solid enough, Dexter didn't mind to learn much about it. Blacklight was a beast that he could never beat on his own, so there was little point in learning its weakness.
He knew it was a defeatist mindset, but it was a realistic one. He was on the right side of Blacklight anyways, and there wasn't much that could change that. He followed their rules, not very hard to do, and was polite and careful as he was to ordinary people. Ironic, Blacklight liked to think it was beyond normal human ways of thinking but it was very basic when it came down to the bare facts. It was easily summed up by their number one rule… Family is Sacred. As long as Dexter kept that in mind they wouldn't touch him.
So there he was… drifting along with his boat nearby. In his mind he was a a waiting crocodile, gently moving through the surface of the water watching everything in sight. Waiting for its next meal… or maybe waiting for nothing at all.
Suddenly, his daydream was interrupted by the feeling of water rushing over his face and waves jerking his body around. After a moment of realigning himself he saw that his quiet time had been brought to an end by a group of jet skiers. He watched them for a few moments, the sea monster he was today, but soon enough he vanished under the water and came back out near his boat.
"Hey, my friend!" Unexpectedly he found Oscar Prado waiting for him on his boat dressed in a hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, and flip-flops like he was on vacation. "This is one fine vessel you have here. I'm impressed that you could have such a treat on a cop's salary." Oscar said before he took a drink out of his beer bottle. Dexter climbed out of the water with a glare, not enjoying the sudden intrusion on his property. But again… he had to deal with it given that Oscar was… a person very difficult to refuse.
"What are you doing here Oscar?" Dexter asked as he pulled an apple out of his cooler.
"Boss man greenlighted my idea. I'm gonna die and you are gonna help me do it." Oscar said as he leaned back into the small lawn chair that he brought with him. "And I've got the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone."
"How's that?" Dexter walked over to face the Gamma, slightly blocking the bright sun on the man. Oscar frowned and looked up over the top of his sunglasses.
"Do you not see that I'm tanning here imbécil?" He asked, but Dexter didn't respond beyond taking another bite of his apple. "Fine… be that way." Oscar grumbled as he sat back up. "So here's what I got going. In a few days I'm going to be found dead in the home of one Fred "Freebo" Bowman, a drug dealer that hasn't been understanding the new Saints way of doing things. We make it look like Freebo kills me… you and your department show up and you and Miguel talk or something when he comes to the crime scene. Because he will. He'll be vulnerable, even after all the fighting between us he still loves me. My loss will make him question things and be open to someone new to come in to fill the void."
"This all sounds kind of shaky… how am I supposed get close to Miguel?"
"He's paranoid, he'll think the big boss had something to do about my death. When he'll show up at the crime scene he'll ask a ton of questions. You will be there and you can describe what happened. Just do your normal job on this, don't worry, I can bleed out normal blood that will be like a humans'. Basically… get him thinking about you in some way. At least make put you on his radar. Something. With all the knowledge I got from this head shrinker I consumed and with how well I know my brother… I'm sure he'll do something stupid and open the door for you to walk into his life."
"And from there what should I do?" Dexter asked as he was seriously beginning to question the task in front of him. Killing people was simple… just an end. But this was something else entirely. This was deep manipulation on a level that Dexter, the monster he was, found to be rather disturbing.
"Depends on just what he wants from you. We can take it from there. By that point I will be in the morgue and we can have my body switched out for a fancy biomass construct that looks like me." Oscar said as he leaned back down. "Now if you don't mind bringing us back to land please. I'm getting a little paranoid myself being out in the water for so long." Oscar said before tipping his hat over his eyes.
Doakes was, as usual, not happy. He rarely if ever found a happy moment in his life these days but today… was something special. At first he thought that the day would go by normal: deal with bullshit, deal with Morgan being creepy-as-fuck, and then the constant mindfuck of what happened days ago in his car. But then he heard about Ricky Simmons being dropped down from the freeway. That was a hit, for more than Ricky just being a fellow cop.
James and Maria both headed to Ricky's house to tell his wife the unfortunate news. Which even now made James have to suppress the snort of irritation. She had been ready to file the divorce papers as soon as her husband had gotten off his case. Some women just can't handle their husbands being undercover for so long. The ideas of what they had to do, or who they had to do, to fit in with their cover was a constant to them. Even so… still made Doakes feel guilty about what was going on between him and Kara.
But then to find her dying on her floor from being shot in the back. That hit James like a bullet train. The nights with Kara were some of the few he went to sleep content, the nightmares of his life not clawing their way at him. Just peace. And now even that was gone now.
"Ricky Simmons was on an undercover job in the Guerrero Cartel." The Captain said as he hung up his phone. James was laser-focused, his movements like a caged animal waiting to be set free. And with what the captain said he now had something to chew on. "He'd been working it for nearly a year. No sign that it was going to anything near this level of failure." Matthews said before looking at the stains of blood Morgan was taking pictures of. "This… going after his wife. That's stepping into new territory for Guerrero. Guess the Saints of Samedi are pushing him that hard. And what a pushing it is… pissing off every cop in Miami." The Captain said before leaving the house.
"What happened to the wife?" Doakes asked making sure not to refer to Kara by her name. He couldn't let people know. That would blacklist him for this investigation for sure, and he needed to be the one to bring Guerrero down. He didn't care that Guerrero was the General's number one competitor, Guerrero had made this personal beyond what Keambiroiro had done in the past.
"She's still in surgery." Maria answered and Doakes took a deep breath. There was a chance. At least there was a chance. He needed to get some air. He stepped out of the house while the lab rats did their thing. James took several moments to try and collect his breath but being near the house just felt suffocating to him. His feet started moving, and eventually he was all the way down at the end of the street. That was when he couldn't move. "Not this shit again. Motherf-"
"Hello Officer Doakes, happy to meet once again." The same voice, this time from behind. "I see that you're not so very happy. But not angry like last time… no… sad. I can see why."
"Just! Move! Damn body!" James screamed in his head to try and move any part of his body, his eyes, his mouth, even his toes, all to no avail.
"I can save her… because if I don't she'll die." At that all thought of escape dropped from Doakes' mind like a rock in a pool. Kara... "All you have to do is one teensy little thing." James felt something greasy and oily being placed in his hand. "What I have just given you is a little friend called Beleth-78, it's a nasty little creature to anyone else that isn't its host. All you have to do… is put it to your ear and then I will save Kara. And after that… we can talk a little more about those two gang bosses you hate so much." At that, the voice left, and minutes later Doakes could move his body again. He didn't even try to look for the person that held him hostage. Instead he looked down to his hand, within which was it was wriggling mess of dead black eyes and tentacles.
"He wants me to put this thing near my ear…" James mumbled in disgust at the creature in his palm. It was monstrous, and there was only one thing that would happen if he did so. It would crawl up in him and do all sorts of freaky-ass shit. But then again… the other option was to let Kara die, and she was going to die. James had seen the wound when he found her on the ground, her blood covering her body and staining the floor. Not only that… but this offer wasn't something a person like that man would make if there was a chance of it being made redundant by some doctor saving her. As James stared down at the disgusting parasite, he could do it for love, he could do it for hate… there wasn't any reason not to do it other than being weak.
And so, he carefully looked around and saw that he was completely alone. He gritted his teeth and pulled his hand near his head. It didn't take much for the thing to get the hint. It was most disgusting and wrong feeling in the world as he felt it push and slide itself into his head, never fully entering in. Instead it began to meld into his face and work itself under his skin and then his skull. One of the first things it had done was wrap two tentacles through his mouth and clamp it shut so he couldn't scream.
Doakes dropped to his knees as the creature began to wiggle its way into his brain. A flood of sensation and thoughts burst into James' mind, all of them pounding him with ideas and feelings that weren't his own as he struggled to maintain that he was in fact James Doakes. In the raptures of the experience he caught glimpses into a world that wasn't the one he knew. A great expanse devoid of anything but swirling colors and abstract forms. In it he saw a great system of lights, each swirling around larger and larger ones. At the center a bright green one that gave him the clear impression of the General, even though it had no features that would mark it as such.
And then he was ripped out of it all. Suddenly, he felt perfectly fine. Like nothing had happened before and all that had changed was now he was on his knees and slightly out of breath. James blinked and tried to recall just what he saw and heard and felt but only small snippets in his mind.
"James?" Doakes looked up and saw Maria looking down at him with a worried look on her face. Everything felt so much more detailed now. He could tell that her worry was honest, but at the same time suspicious as to the reason why. It went beyond mere detective instincts… his mind was hyper-aware of everything that was going on. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah… just… Maria I have to be a honest here." He knew, he knew that now it didn't matter if he was taken off the Guerrero investigation. He didn't need the rules of the department anymore. He just knew this. "Kara and I… we've been seeing each other and…" He didn't get to finish as Maria put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"James… it's perfectly fine to feel. You really need to get that through your head." She said slightly laughing. But James knew she wasn't taking this too well, not from a professional level, more like a personal one. "The business between you and Kara… that's yours. But right now you need to keep that under control if you want to avoid becoming the target of the entire department."
"Right… so you won't tell anyone?" Doakes asked but he knew the answer.
"Of course, but I want you to take this whole thing ease. I won't tell people but I need you to promise me that you won't do anything crazy if I'm going to have keep to this okay?"
"Sure… nothing crazy."
Dexter was up in his apartment early in the morning. He was at his desk looking at the hand of the doll that the Ice Truck Killer left him. Each of the nails had been painted a different color. It had to mean something. This was a thinking game, a game where every tiny detail was a carefully planned move, and right now it was Dexter's turn. To make it make worse, or better depending on which of the players you asked, there was a timer.
"He said that he had a deadline… but did Eden give it to him or is it a personal one?" Dexter asked himself absentmindedly as he stared at the doll part. He had swabbed and scrubbed it for any residue of the black ooze that had animated it. No such luck. He should have tried to follow it that night but that thought had slipped his mind in the moment. "Piece of a puzzle… but it's like I don't have all of them." But his musings were interrupted by the sound of his sister's ringtone. "Deb… what is it?"
"Wow don't you sound alive and perky… but whatever. So… Miami's the haystack… and the Ice Truck's the needle." No way… Dexter couldn't believe that this was as simple as it was looking like. "Well brother… I just found the fucking needle!"
"Okay… just… text me the address or something and I'll be right over." At that Dexter hung up and began to place all the doll parts back into the freezer like he found them. Except the head, that he kept. It took him about ten minutes to get to where Debra was and as he was walking from his car to his sister… he could see the Ice Truck across a few streets. "How'd you find it?" Dexter asked as he approached his sister.
"Put the word out to the beat cops, you know the whole hiding in plain sight thing. Juan-Pierre flagged this one and called me in." Debra explained as they came to the other side of the street from the idling Ice Truck. Dexter meanwhile could not believe that this was just Debra's good police work. She was a decent cop but… all of Blacklight in Miami had been looking for any refrigerated trucks they could track down. They couldn't find it. But Debra found it, his sister Debra. Dexter knew for certain that the Ice Truck Killer wouldn't have let anyone but who he wanted find this truck. That simple fact worried Dexter.
"This is a busy street, anyone see anything?" Dexter asked knowing that someone had to. And odds are someone Infected had to. Unless Eden's pets did something to keep Infected away long enough for Debra to find it.
"The restaurant manager said that it was here when he opened up." This was getting more and more dangerous for Dexter by the second. Everything in his body told him that something was very off. "Is this the one you saw?" Debra asked looking to Dexter for confirmation.
"I feel like a kid at his own surprise party… only the surprise is that everyone's been mutilated and butchered." Dexter thought as he began to take a few steps closer. This was the truck that he saw, it had to be… the odds of it not being it could not be ignored. But he couldn't share this sureness with his sister. "Maybe? A little hard to think back and pull details… it all happened so fast."
"Let's go on a non-forensic-geek limb here and say that it is." Debra not having the time to question her chance into Homicide. "Why's it still running?" There was only one single reason why.
'It keeps the back cold." Dexter said knowing that something must be locked inside.
The General sat back in his own home in Miami, a large villa overlooking the sandy beaches the city was well-known for. It was a grand palace that any multimillionaire would be proud to have. What the General loved about it was that it was a war trophy, taken from the former most powerful drug lord in the city. After a few changes in color to carpets and drapes and some new artwork it was perfect.
"General." Abdulla said as approached his Alpha. "I am not questioning your wisdom… but are you sure that Oscar's plan is the best approach to his mongrel brother?" The Beta asked as he sat down next to his leader.
"Yes, and I do believe that Miguel is Oscar's problem to solve." Keambiroiro said before taking a short drag on his cigar. "I am… a little apprehensive to the use of Dexter Morgan in his plan. As this Ice Truck Killer business seems to have a strong pull for him. But… Dexter has agreed and we need to court Dexter to our side."
"But why him? What makes Dexter Morgan so special?" Abdalla asked, not finding anything about the serial killer that remarkable. He was precise for a human sure… but his position in the department wasn't key, he didn't have any family lines that could be used, and his physical skills were average. To Blacklight… he wasn't much.
"I am not sure… letting him live was a whim for me. He was amusing at the time. But now it seems that he has a larger part to play." The General said as he stood up and walked over to the half wall that lined his patio to the small rockside that led down to the beach. "Now is not the time to lose focus. Our biggest worries are Eden, and Mercer's upcoming arrival in Miami."
"The show starring Avarice Mercy has been arranged, the Saints proper have handled it themselves. We are handling everything beyond the convention center and the stadium." Abdulla informed as he recalled the meeting he had just come from on the subject. "Mercer will want to meet Auri."
"Angel has confided in me of his worries over such a meeting." Keambiroiro sighed. He knew that this situation with the Naturals was a ticking time bomb. "From what we have seen with Angel's daughter there will be no issue. She is a well-adjusted and friendly girl. She has shown no sign of being a danger to humans."
"That is what was said about Julius Gat." Abdulla shuddered as he remembered a few of the rumors that surrounded that child.
"He is a Blacklight teenager… and the son of Johnny Gat. There was no outcome that didn't involve a bit of bloodshed with that child." The General scoffed. The rumors that circled the first Natural were out of control. There was a grain of truth to them but only a small grain. "Auri is not Julius, and the Hives are looking to Mercer for guidance on this matter. He will not harm her, and if he takes her I doubt it will be without her parents' consent."
"But they are yours Alpha." Abdulla objected but went silent at the General's raised hand.
"And Mercer is the Supreme Alpha. If one of the other Alphas even dared to suggest they could take one of my Evolved, I would utterly destroy them." He said, causing a few cracks in the stone wall under his hand.
Dexter watched as they opened the door to the back of the Ice Truck. A fog of cold air drifted out as he, Angel and Debra all entered cautiously. To his relief, all that was there was a single block of ice. There were no monsters with dead black eyes ready to rip and tear him to pieces. But then again, Angel was there so maybe it would be more interested in killing him first.
"Dios Mio…" Angel mumbled as he looked at the small block of ice. Dexter looked harder and saw five finger tips suspended where they would be if still attached to a hand.
"Clean slices… no blood." Dexter said as he looked through the ice to see his playmate's handiwork. "I'm guessing they drained the body before making these cuts."
"How'd he do that… some kind of pump?" Debra asked but both Angel and Dexter shrugged. "Well… however he did it, he's a fucking butcher." She said before exiting the back of the truck leaving the boys to talk.
"So… how'd he do it? The old-fashioned way of stringing them up and letting the heart do it?" Dexter asked as he looked to Angel who shook his head.
"Nah… the guys back at the lab are going crazy on how he gets every bit of it out. But what We guess is he's doing it by some type of monster than can pull the blood out like you're sucking on a straw." Angel said, clearly not happy about this anymore than Debra was. Dexter on the other hand was quite joyful, more pieces to the puzzle.
"Any idea on why you guys didn't find this truck first?" Dexter asked even though he ran the risk of drawing attention to Deb.
"No clue… but he's got to have some means of getting our people to keep away from this place." Angel said scratching the back of his head in frustration. "Listen… this shit is getting really bad. I do not need this right now." Dexter felt like he should just nod and keep out. But that wasn't the smart move here. If the Ice Truck Killer had a patron, than Dexter would need one too.
"Something going on?" Dexter asked as he and Angel stepped out of the truck.
"It's what coming." Angel nervously chuckled. "You know that I have a daughter right, Auri."
"Yeah." Dexter not sure where this was going.
"Evolved don't have normal kids. We have Naturals, people that are entirely Blacklight from birth. It's a really new thing and it still makes people nervous." Angel explained and Dexter could see why. But this still didn't sound like something that would make Angel worry. His daughter was a few years old and there hadn't been a problem before. "The biggest thing is how their brains are wired, they don't see people as, you know, people. When they're born they see humans, uninfected humans, like how humans see dogs, cats… or cows. Human and Viral aren't equal to them."
"That… could go very wrong." Dexter had no other way of putting it given what Viral Beings were capable of doing.
"Oh yeah. People who don't like Naturals call them the Blacklight Nazis. There's a big thing over whether they should be even allowed. Even Zeus isn't that firmly on board with the idea." Angel said looking over his shoulder for a second. Dexter recognized the look in his eye, it was pure fear, the same kind Dexter's victims had before he killed them. "The only reason why he hasn't called for the end of Naturals is because he's the godfather of his Beta's Natural. He's coming to Miami."
"Alex Mercer is coming to Miami?" Dexter asked a little surprised at this. Alex Mercer had always been a figure of mystery to Dexter. Publicly he was like a boogeyman, the one responsible for the New York Outbreak. But to those Infected he was on the same level as a god. The Supreme Alpha was the undisputed leader of the Hives.
"Not 'Alex Mercer' but Avarice Mercy, his public persona." Angel said with a small smile. "When he gets here he's going to want to see Auri, and I don't know how that meeting's gonna end." The Gamma waved his hand around the back of the truck. "Then there's this shit going on, and the business with the Angel of Mercy hospital…" Angel trailed off, but Dexter realized something. That was the Ice Truck Killer's deadline. Whatever Eden and he had… it had to happen before Alex Mercer got to Miami.
"Angel… when does Mercer get here?" Dexter asked carefully.
"Four months… why?"