A dark, dingy apartment. Empty boxes of pizza on the coffee table. Empty cartons of Chinese takeout on the counter. And one anxiety-ridden motherfucker sat on the couch.
Gordon grit his teeth, cradling his head in his hands.
How could I let this happen?
His daughter was the last thing he had left. His last shred of humanity since the wife left. Or rather, since he left her.
That night he caught her with another man upon coming home from work destroyed him. But this was neither the time nor the place. His daughter. They were after his daughter.
He suddenly stood up and flipped over the coffee table. "You fucking retard Gordon. You really did it now."
His mind raced. Meeting out at the pier at 2AM? Are they gonna disappear him? He could just drive off to his ex-wife's apartment, stand guard. No- they probably already have someone posted, ready to execute them whenever.
Then what? What to do?
Nothing to do but show up, and hope for the best.
He knew one thing- he wasn't going down without a fight.
He punched in a number. Time to call in a favor.
He picked up after the third ring.
"Yeah?"
"Jimmy? It's me, Gordon."
"Jesus, Gordon, it's 1 AM. What is it?"
"If I don't come in to work tomorrow... take care of Jane for me."
"The fuck are you talking about?"
"That's an order, Officer Chang. Remember Operation Foxhound? Take care of her, and we're even."
"What? Gordon, I'm coming over right now-"
"No. I have to go alone." For her sake.
He hung up.
Then sighed.
He walked over to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Then slammed a fist against the glass, shattering it to pieces. Pills. He dumped a handful into his palm, and gulped them down. He'd need a steady hand for what's to come.
Then he walked over to his home armory, and suited up. The APD was short on funding, but detectives were on the shortlist to get the best gear- on par with SWAT. Hermetically sealed full body armor, covering the body from dick, fingertip, and toe. The armor was outfitted with adaptive servomotors for ease of movement, even with all the weight. Along with the physical armor, he strapped a shield generator to his belt, next to his holstered carnifex and energy blade. He opted to leave the helmet at home. He fought better at night without it.
Been awhile since I've gone toe to toe in any real CQC. Hope it doesn't come to that.
He drew the shimmering red energy blade a few times in the air, practicing his forms. It'll have to do.
Finally, he strapped a rifle to his back. A modded M8-Avenger AR.
Time to go.
He jumped into the car, and sped off into the night- bound for Brooksford Pier.
...
He arrived at 2AM, on the dot. There was nobody there. The night wind howled. The towering spires and skyscrapers of Corpo Square glittered across the river. But over on the Pier side, there was naught but a few streetlamps to illuminate the area. This particular pier was rather out of the way. Remote. No bars or gogo girl places around.
Finally, a black sedan pulled up, blinding him with its headlights.
Four doors opened. The lights turned off, returning Gordon's sight.
She came with friends. Of course she did.
"Good evening, Mr. Lou. Sorry for the tardy- had some... business... to attend to prior." She said as she walked up to him, flanked by two men clad in black suits. They appeared to be unarmed. Probably concealed carry.
"You probably know why we're here. But oh... you're cute." She bit her lower lip as she sauntered right up to him. "Don't try anything... wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face." She reached out a hand and traced a thin finger along the length of Gordon's chest.
"Excuse me?" Gordon growled and recoiled from her touch.
"Oh but whatever happened to my manners. You probably already know who I am. Faustine Reign. Ever heard of a company named DiermanBit?"
"'Course I have. What do you want from me?"
"I want you to stop poking your little bloodhound nose where it shouldn't be poking." Faustine said, her lips curled slightly upwards at the sides.
"I can't do that." Gordon grunted.
"Why?" She pouted. Then placed a milk-white palm upon his chest. "I can be very... persuasive."
"You threatened my goddamn family." He grabbed her wrist and pushed it away from him, causing her to laugh.
"A necessary bargaining chip to draw you out here. Come on, Detective. You know how it is."
"No, I don't."
"We're at an impasse then. You won't give up the investigation for this gutter trash, nobody Quarian. And I have the power to call a hit on your daughter at any time. Whatever will we do, Mr. Lou? Maybe you need a more concrete example."
"What?"
Faustine displayed a video feed on her omni-tool. The camera was looking right into the window of his ex-wife's house. His daughter lay in bed, snoring peacefully. "Do it." She spoke into her comms. A rifle was raised and appeared into view of the camera feed.
"WAIT. No. Okay. I'll stop. Whatever you want. Don't hurt her."
She smiled, though her eyes remained cold. "Cancel that." She spoke into the comms and the gun was lowered. "Now you finally understand the situation. The truth is, I called you down here not just to stop you from investigating me. Because frankly, even if you did, the day the APD actually prosecutes a megacorp agent over a criminal scum of a xeno is the day pigs fly."
Gordon scowled.
"The truth is, Mr. Lou, that we need a man of your ability to do a job for us."
"I won't be your mole."
"No no... we already have plenty of that. You see, we've had something precious stolen from us. Very valuable company proprietary technology. The Quarian I hired took the down payment and ran. Didn't think I'd catch him. Well, you saw how that ended up. But- I have a good feeling about you, Detective." She licked her lower lip. Then crept right up to Gordon to where they were almost kissing. "Help me help you, Mr. Lou. 1 million credits. How does that sound? And I'll throw in a little something... extra, just for you too." She winked and lowered her blouse a little, exposing some cleavage.
Gordon gulped, despite himself. But stayed true. "Cut that shit out. I know you spread your legs for every sucker on the hook. That's how you boardroom whores close out deals, right? Manipulative. You're not my type. But I'll help you. Not for the money. But to protect my family. But I swear, if you so much as lay a hand on a single hair on her head- I will find you, and kill you worse than the way you killed that suit-rat in the alley."
Faustine smiled, this time it even seemed genuine. Her green eyes were piqued with curiosity. "First time a man's ever resisted my charms. I knew I picked the right man for the job. But perhaps the reason you were able to do so is because your type is... shall we say- exotic in nature? Immuno-compromised, ample hips, and clad in an enviro-suit?"
"What?"
Faustine, still smiling, slowly raised her hands, and stepped to the side, revealing Aela, who had silently knocked out the guards behind Faustine, and now had a shotgun pressed against the small of her back. "Maybe your type is her."
"Aela!? I thought I told you to stay out of this!" Fucking idiot!
Of course the first time he ever calls me by my name is when we're in the shit.
"Shut the fuck up, Piggy. I'm saving your sorry ass."
"Don't do anything stupid, she's got my daughter as a hostage!" Gordon said, panic seizing his throat.
Faustine smirked. "Listen to him, little girl. He's smarter than he looks."
"Shut up." She pressed the shotgun harder into Faustine's back.
"Aela, please. They have agents right outside my daughter's home." Gordon pleaded.
Aela hesitated to pull the trigger at Gordon's words.
And Faustine seized the opportunity immediately- ducking low to the ground while pivoting on the ball of her foot, turning and palm striking Aela on the jaw, sending her falling to the ground. Aela had fired, getting only air, and grazing Faustine's back. She jumped up onto the Quarian, grabbing her gun arm.
"Shit!" Gordon ran up and tackled Faustine off of Aela, and became entangled in a wrestling bout with the corpo, trying to get on top.
Aela shot a warning shot in the air, causing the two of them to stop and stare at her. She racked her shotgun and pointed it at Faustine.
At which she faced down the barrel and smirked. "The moment my heart rate stops, an order is sent to the team at your daughter's house." She hissed to Gordon. "Now tell your Quarian girlfriend to point that damn thing somewhere else."
"Aela, lower the gun."
Faustine displayed the same camera feed she showed Gordon earlier.
"Keelah." She lowered the gun.
"Good. Now drop it, and kick it over here."
Aela did as told.
Faustine picked it up. "See? That wasn't so hard. Now... where were we? Oh. Right. The stolen IP. I'll even let you and the Quarian work together on this. Isn't that nice?"
Aela tilted her head. "What's going on here?"
"You two work for me now." Faustine said, smiling.
...
"Boss, it's me, Paul."
"What is it?"
"The detective we've been tracking, he's talking to some Corpo. She's got DiermanBit tagged on her blazer. Prob talking about the IP we stole."
"That's bad news. Forget making a deal with him then. Get rid of him."
"He probably has Corpo protection now though."
"I don't care. I'll talk to the Cartel, have them send some of their hitmen to help you. You're my best man, Paul. Don't let me down. Shit's worth millions. We can sell it to Yamaguchi Heavy Industries and use the capital to get the Russians on our side. Then wipe out the Red Lotus once and for all."
Paul sighed. "I'll get it done."
"See that you do. Falcone out."
Gordon was beside himself with rage. He'd prided himself on being a principled man, even if a xenophobic racist. And now, he was taking money from DiermanBit, and working for a Corpo agent.
The car was pelted relentlessly with night rain. Rumbling thunder shattered the skies.
"Keelah. Where do we even start?" Aela said, still processing everything from the past hour.
"The bitch is pitting us against the entire Falcone Mafia." Well, he'd wanted to take out the crime family eventually, just not like this.
"Stealing from criminals. That's not so bad." Aela mused.
"Never imagined I'd become a Corpo lapdog." Gordon grunted.
"APD, Corpo lapdog, what's the difference?" Aela snarked.
Gordon scowled. "Why did you come tonight? I told you to stay out of it. You could have fucked everything up."
"You're a real ungrateful dick, aren't you?" Aela said.
Gordon sighed. "Whatever." He actually appreciated the gesture, but he'd never tell the xeno. Last thing he needs is to owe something to an alien anyway. "We have to play along with them, at least until I can get my daughter to safety."
"Sure. We should probably get some shut-eye though. It's like, 3 in the morning."
...
The next day, around noon.
Vela zoomed in on her scope.
"That him?" She patched her vision feed through her cybernetic eyes to Falcone.
"Yeah, it's him. Take the shot."
"Too many people around. You know I like clean jobs." Vela said.
"Forget it. Just shoot the fucker already. He's working with the Corpos now. Can't turn someone with that kinda money."
"He has a top of the line Durasteel full helmet on anyway. At this range, it wouldn't kill."
"Then get in close and do it then! Jesus!"
"Watch your tone, human." Vela hissed. "I'll get it done."
She hung up.
Gordon sat around at the outdoor cafe, sipping some coffee through a straw in his helmet.
"She wants to meet again here right? To discuss the job?" Aela asked, sucking up a muffin through her induction port.
"Yeah. Should be here in a bit."
A few minutes later and the red-head corpo showed up.
"The gang's all here. Perfect." Faustine said, smiling.
She joined them at the table.
"As I've said the night before, we're not certain where they're holding the IP. But- if the APD were to successfully dismantle the Falcones, and seize all their assets in civil forfeiture- maybe it can turn up that way." She winked at Gordon.
"What do you want me to do?" Gordon said, impatient.
"Take out the Falcones, and get me the IP."
"They have half the city council in their pocket. Any real attempts to cut off their head the DA blocks."
"Then it sounds like you have to take down the DA then, doesn't it Gordon?" She smirked.
"Why the hell do I have to be the one to do it? Don't you corpos have a whole stable of hitmen and mercenaries?"
"Sure... but a decorated and respected APD detective taking down corrupt politicians and mobsters just looks better. I'd prefer if we kept this... discrete." Faustine said. "Oh, and just an FYI, we have sent people after them. They've returned in body bags. But I have a good feeling about you. You won't fuck it up."
"Me and what army?" Gordon groaned.
Faustine shrugged. "I can provide credits, and spare a few men. But looks like you'll have to get creative. Maybe get the Red Lotus to help? They really, really, hate the Falcones." She winked.
"So just cause you fucked up and lost this 'IP', now I have to be the one that cleans up your mess on the hush. Am I getting this right?" Gordon growled. "What's to stop me from just reporting you to DiermanBit and get you axed?"
Faustine smirked. "Then your daughter gets a lead injection. Come on, Gordon. You wound my intelligence."
Gordon fell silent, so Aela spoke up. "The Red Lotus does hate the Falcones, but they'd never work with cops. They see us as pigs. ACAB and all that."
"Sounds like a you problem. Take it up with your chief, shouldn't be too hard to get fake identities, bio-chips, and frame it as an undercover investigation. Be volunteers and play the hero. Or do them a favor as cops, I don't know." Faustine said, then sipped on her frappachino. She looked at her watch. "Sorry lovelies, but I've a meeting to catch. Oh, and I want progress reports every week. Bye now!" She stood and took her leave.
...
"Probably off to re-assure her superiors that everything is going smoothly." Aela said as she and Gordon left the cafe and made their way back to the car.
"And it's up to us to make it so." Gordon finished.
"... Make what so?" A metallic voice rang out.
Gordon and Aela both whipped around.
There, standing at the head of the alley, stood a silver-plated Turian. Typical of the species, she stood at least 7 feet tall.
"Come on, tell me. You'd have a hole in the back of your head already if I wasn't so curious what you and that DiermanBit whore was planning." Vela said, her mandibles flaring into a sneer.
Gordon immediately took cover behind a dumpster, pulling Aela with him and drew his Carnifex. "Who the fuck are you?" He growled.
"A friend." She lied.
"Bullshit. Friends don't threaten to shoot me in the head."
Vela chuckled. "Okay, guess I'm bringing you in cold then." She dug her talons into the ground, then sprung forward in a mad dash, leaping and bounding towards Gordon's position while firing suppressive fire with her rifle.
"Fuck!" Gordon ducked low behind the dumpster as energized kinetic rounds hissed just overhead.
"Keep her busy, I'll go for a flank and call for backup." Aela hissed, before slinking out through a side alley, staying low as Vela fired at the dumpster.
"Be quick!"
Vela rushed up to the dumpster, Gordon had not fired a shot back. "What's the matter? Give up?" Vela poked her rifle around the corner of the dumpster intent on finishing him, but the barrel was immediately sliced in two by Gordon's energy blade.
She giggled in response, a disturbing metallic rasping sound. "Oh, I like you already. Shame I have to kill you." She jumped backwards and drew her own energy blade, shimmering blue.
Gordon snarled and rushed forward, striking downwards. Vela parried the blow, and immediately riposted, putting Gordon off balance as he barely defended the precise retaliatory strike.
"Hand to hand. Just the way I like it." Vela said.
"Stuff it, you split-jawed fuck." Gordon jumped back to create some space and regain his balance. Then drew his carnifex with his offhand and fired.
The shots bounced off her shields, creating a rippling effect in the air and a sheen of white flashes. "Ooh, and he fights dirty too!" Vela's mandibles flexed. She rushed forward, this deflecting the remainder of the shots with her energy blade, her cybernetic eyes and implants providing the necessary vision and reflexes to do so.
"Shit!" Gordon blocked desperately as Vela let out an elegant, but brutal flurry of strikes with her energy blade, the thermal katanas hissing and throwing off sparks as they made contact with one another.
"You're pretty good- for an unaugmented." Vela said, grinning. "And it's been fun, but it's time to die now." She beat down on Gordon's guard with three final strikes, the third one hitting hard enough to fling Gordon's blade from his hands, tearing out his palms with burns as it did.
"Fuck, fuck FUCK!" Gordon yelled, backing away and emptying his remaining clip on the approaching Turian. He tripped and fell on his ass.
"Tut tut. A real man knows when to accept defeat. But where's the fun in that, right?" Vela smirked as she again deflected the bullets coming at her, with the stray ones that get through being absorbed by her shields.
She lay the tip of her blade at Gordon's throat, the edge singing his skin slightly. "Any last words, Detective?"
Gordon broke out into a sneer. "Yeah. Look behind you, dipshit."
"Wh-"
She was cut off by a rack and a boom, her shields shattering. "Ah, sneaky! We'll have to do this again some other time." Vela flared her mandibles in frustration before throwing down a smoke bomb and activating her cloaking tech.
"Activate thermals!" A familiar female Quarian voice ordered. They fired at the orange mass hauling ass through a side street, but she was too fast. She was gone.
A wave of APD officers rushed past Gordon, in an attempt to chase the Turian. "Don't let her get away! Cut her off at West Blvd!" They shouted.
The Quarian in question remained, and walked up to Gordon to help him up. "Miss me, Piggy?" Aela said, smirking.
"Hate to admit it, but I've never been so glad to see a suit-rat in my entire life." Gordon said with a shit-eating grin.
She smiled beneath her helmet. "Don't get used to it." She reached out a hand.
He grasped it and she pulled him up. "I won't. But hey, listen. Um. ... Thanks, Aela."
She looked downwards and was quiet for a second or two, then suddenly punched him in the arm and burst out laughing. "Haha, what is that? Piggy trying to be nice? Just don't. That mushy crap doesn't work well on you."
"...Fuck you." Gordon grumbled, yet his mouth remained curving upwards in that shit-eating smile that just refused to disappear no matter how much he willed it to.
Aela found herself smiling too.
...