27: Rip-Off Artists

"I just got word from the hospital." Sophie appeared by the ledge then, getting Brooklyn's attention. She was in her usual light-brown bomber jacket, despite the overall warmth of the night.

The gargoyle had been looking out to the bay thoughtfully, lights shimmering off of the calm surface of the water. New Jersey lay across the river, its somewhat less prominent skyline lit up with an array of lights.

Brooklyn had taken position up on a narrow balcony at the edge of a rundown building by a set of docks, and from here he was provided an ample view of the lanes below that wound through the dockyard. A silver sedan was below, where Dingo and Jane loitered. The former had a cigarette to his mouth, puffing gently upon it. Jane, meanwhile, was fiddling about with a small switchblade, spinning it around in her hand repeatedly.

"Elisa had her surgery," Sophie added, and Brooklyn perked up when he heard this. "She's still in a medically-induced coma, but any shards that were in her are gone now. It's really down to her to pull through."

Brooklyn felt some relief upon hearing this. Something had gone right so far, which could not be said for the bulk of what he had experienced these past few days. He noticed that Sophie had a box of pizza in one hand, and she set it on the rail before her, keeping a hand on it as to ensure it did not fall to the lane below.

"She's strong," he said, meeting the woman's gaze. "She'll pull through. I'm sure of it."

"We can only hope," Sophie replied. She moved up alongside him, following his gaze out to the calm waters of the river. High-up, a passenger jet had started on its gradual descent, destined for JFK International Airport. A helicopter buzzed somewhere over the neighbourhood, with the distant sounds of traffic audible in the night air. It was another warm one, with a near cloudless sky above.

Much of the day had been spent preparing for the mission that Xanatos had set them upon. Sophie had grabbed a few items from her apartment, whilst Brooklyn had joined her, gliding her from place-to-place all while keeping a low profile. A gargoyle out during the day would certainly draw more attention than usual. He had decided to keep this new ability a secret from the world for as long as he could. Such a thing could give him an edge in the fight to come, especially after what had happened at the Maza residence in Vermont.

"You want some?" Sophie had pulled a can of lemonade from her jacket. Brooklyn shook his head, feeling that he had had his share of sugar for the day. The food on offer at the warehouse had been mostly processed, frozen stuff joined by a variety of sugary beverages. Brooklyn had never been one for what he often thought of as the 'Broadway diet', and as such he ate those kinds of foods with a healthy degree of moderation.

She lifted up the lid of the pizza box, revealing half a large pizza. Her face scrunched up with distaste when she saw one of the ingredients amongst the toppings.

"Anchovies." She shook her head, before turning to the gargoyle again. "You like anchovies?"

"They're all right." Brooklyn did not feel particularly hungry for a cold pizza. Sophie closed the lid, before placing the box on the metal grating by her feet.

"Jane bought that one," she said, before she took another gulp from her can. "Trust her to like anchovies. Something about that girl seems really off, you notice that?"

"Yeah, I did." Brooklyn paused then, noticing the expectant way in which Sophie was watching him. He offered her a smile, before he reached out with one hand and ran his fingers down her cheek. "Maybe later, you and I could do something a little more exciting?"

"You read my mind." Sophie took his offered hand into her own, returning his smile. "You best be ready, Brook. You'll need to work extra hard to keep up this time."

"Ha!" Brooklyn laughed. It felt so good to have something to laugh about now, even if the current circumstances were a little out of the ordinary. Here they were, two law-abiding citizens waiting to get in on an arms deal. For a good cause, no less, but hardly legal.

He released her hand then, his expression hardening somewhat.

"How long until Covey shows up?" Brooklyn asked her, looking down at the car where Dingo and Jane were waiting. Sophie checked her watch, nodding her head when she saw the time: 10:55PM.

"He should be here in another five minutes," Sophie answered. She cracked open the can and took a sip. "You think we're doing the right thing?"

"Dealing with criminals?" Brooklyn nodded in the direction of Dingo and Jane. "Because there are two of them right there. It's not something I want to make a habit out of."

"I mean, doing what Xanatos wants," Sophie added. "This business with this package. I think we'd be better off pursuing our own leads, starting with that Raymond Veccio."

"He disappeared, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Very convenient, don't you think?"

Everything about that was convenient. The one man who had some involvement with the enemy had vanished without a trace, likely having done so at the request of his employers. And now here Brooklyn and Sophie were, going after something that had dubious ties to the whole affair at most, all on the word of a man who may not have been entirely of sound mind. Xanatos' fight against the Illuminati was an obsession, pure and simple. And this escapade with the theft of some special package was the culmination of years of obsessing. The whole thing was going to end in tears, Brooklyn could feel it already.

"I'm sure we could find mention of him somewhere," Sophie continued. "Something to keep in mind while we play ball with Xanatos. I know Griggs is looking into it when he can, but he's been taken off the case since our suspension. The powers that be don't want anyone looking too deeply into it."

"All the more reason to look into it." Brooklyn met her eyes again and they both smiled. They understood each other perfectly, complemented each other's attitudes like two halves making a whole. And after the other night, when they had finally given in to their passions, that 'whole' was working even better than before.

"You really make my day, Brook," Sophie remarked. Before either of them could add any more to this, the sound of a car's engine caught their attention. Both looked down to the asphalt lane below, where a somewhat beaten-up blue hatchback had appeared from around the corner of the old dock warehouse ahead. Jane and Dingo stood to attention now, and Sophie glanced at Brooklyn as she started for the nearby stairs.

"Gotta go," she said. "Keep watch."

Brooklyn nodded in acknowledgment. He would remain up here and provide overwatch on whatever transpired below. Sophie's guardian angel, a role he had played more than once during the six months he had worked with her. He was unarmed, but unlike most he did have wings. Any trouble, and he could literally swoop right on in and save her. Sometimes he was genuinely glad to be a gargoyle.

Marcus Covey was, in Sophie's experience with him, a slimy character. He looked a little younger than his age of forty-five, his current outfit comprised of a blue denim jacket and baggy brown cargo pants. Something more befitting for a dockworker than an arms dealer; then again, Sophie supposed 'arms dealer' was a trade with no set uniform.

She approached the car where Jane and Dingo were waiting, whilst Covey emerged from his hatchback. He approached the trio with his hands raised, showing them that he was unarmed. Jane was visibly tense, hand hanging close by the pistol at her waist. Dingo, meanwhile, did not appear very concerned by the visitor. Rather, he opened the trunk of the sedan and revealed, without preamble, the suitcase within.

"Straight to business," Covey said. He stopped a few metres away, lowering his hands slowly. "I like that." His eyes moved across the three of them, before they stopped at Sophie. "Imagine my surprise when the man on the phone told me a bona fide Detective would be here to buy my merchandise. You looking to start a war, McLaughlin?"

"I'm looking to takedown some people much meaner than you could ever hope to be," Sophie replied, unable to keep the contempt she felt for the man out of her voice. Had she still had her badge, she might have busted him right here. Now, however, she was little more than a civilian with no badge and none of the authority that had come with it.

"It was quite the shopping list," Covey said. "I had to get in touch with some associates of mine. They're waiting for us around the corner." He motioned for them to follow. "Come on and bring the money with you."

"Hold on." Dingo frowned; his doubt was clear in his voice. "The meeting is here, not anywhere else." In the lane, they were flanked by a warehouse on one side and a loading dock for cargo trucks on the other. Around the corner would be the open dockyards, and Dingo most likely had figured such open ground would be more of a risk. Sophie felt they were at risk regardless of where the meet-up occurred.

"You want the goods?" Covey looked inquiringly towards the man. Dingo's face remained sceptical, but he knew he could not decline the instructions given. "Don't worry, it's all on the level. These guys, they're good friends of mine. They were able to get what you wanted on such short notice." He turned around and started walking, heading around the warehouse's external corner. Jane followed confidently, with Dingo falling into step after her. It was Sophie who hesitated, for she took a moment to look to the warehouse on their left. She could make out Brooklyn's figure in the dark, and he remained low on the metal balcony.

With some trepidation, she followed the others. She tapped at the reassuring shape of the pistol Xanatos had given her before they had come out here. It was an otherwise unremarkable Glock pistol, chambered for the common 9mm cartridge. Typical police and military issue these days, and reliable for self-defence purposes. Easily concealable as well, helped by the jacket she wore despite the general warmth of the summer night.

Around the corner, two cars were parked in the shadow of a dockyard crane. As the group neared, the headlights on both luxury cars switched on. A black Rolls Royce Phantom and a silver Chrysler, the kind of vehicles Sophie would expect a mob boss to own. She had some passing knowledge that the Rolls Royce cost close to a million dollars, so definitely not the car of a common street criminal.

Covey stopped a good twenty metres from the cars, holding up a hand. The others stopped behind him, and Covey looked to the cars and the men who had emerged from them. There were four of them, one of them older than the others and no doubt in charge. He was dressed in a grey suit, his eyes bespectacled and his hair a stark white. The others were in a range of more smart casual outfits, bodyguards most likely.

"These are the buyers," Covey announced. He turned back to Sophie and the others, offering them a quick aside: "These guys, they're Albanian. They're very good at procuring the special stuff."

The older man in charge spoke quietly to his closest associate, who took a few steps forward and motioned for the group to come near. Sophie looked about the dockyard, the smell of gasoline and rotting fish thick in the air. Something seemed off here; then again, there were a number of things that rubbed her the wrong way about this meeting. The fact that it was illegal was first and foremost among them.

"Come over here," the associate declared. Dingo took a step forwards, walking into the stark white light from the headlights of the two luxury cars.

"Where's the merchandise?" He had the case of money in his hands. As he spoke, another car appeared from the left, emerging from behind a stack of wooden pallets. It was a blue two-door, and as it stopped one of the bodyguards moved around to its rear and opened the trunk. Even from here, it was clear that the goods were inside. Guns, electronics, explosives; everything someone needed to take down a heavily armed and guarded convoy.

"Now, come over here." The associate motioned to them again with both hands. "Bring the money."

"How about you bring that car over here?" Dingo pointed to the two-door, which was a good twenty, twenty-five metres away across mostly open ground. Sophie saw movement up on the warehouse roof in her peripheral vision. It was Brooklyn, having moved around to keep sight of the deal in progress. Her guardian angel, ever reliable.

The older man said something in a foreign language, likely Albanian, which his associate translated.
"Bring the money here," he announced. Dingo shook his head, his patience dissipating fast.

"No. You meet us in the middle." He motioned to the empty space before the two parties. Sophie could already feel the tension mounting. No one was willing to budge for the other, and Covey appeared increasingly nervous.

It was at that moment Brooklyn's voice rang out, filled with fear for her life:

"Sophie, watch out!"

Brooklyn knew something was wrong the moment the group started around the corner. He followed them around the building, climbing onto the roof of the old warehouse. He moved to the end overlooking the cars lying in wait, and he watched and listened as the exchange took place. The arms dealers were not playing ball, yet neither was Dingo. However, at that instant Brooklyn, from his perch on the roof, caught sight of movement across the dock. Specifically, his eyes were drawn to the towering dockyard crane and the lone figure who had appeared at its side, standing upon a narrow walkway running around it from the ladder that provided access. This put him several metres above the dockyard itself, the perfect vantage point to overlook the deal.

The man he saw had a rifle. His gargoyle eyes sighted him clearly in the night, along with the scoped rifle he carried and the way in which he levered it in the direction of Sophie and the others. Brooklyn had only seconds to spare, his heart suddenly racing, his mind reeling through the potential courses of action. Below, the group was outnumbered, the gang of arms dealers having put them in the open. The whole thing stunk of a rip-off, and Brooklyn was not going to sit up here and let it happen.

"Sophie, watch out!" He shouted at the top of his lungs as he rose to his feet, raising an arm and pointing towards the crane. With that said, he stretched out his wings and readied himself to make a go for the enemy. Below, all hell broke loose.

Sophie saw the sniper as soon as Brooklyn pointed him out. Her hands were to the gun inside her jacket instantly, and she had it out with the safety off in seconds. The older man in charge of the Albanian gang looked visibly startled, and his associates began to pull out their guns in turn. Dingo and Jane had their weapons out and ready. At that moment, Sophie took aim at the sniper and opened fire.

The distance involved made pinpoint shooting tricky with a sidearm. The rounds punched into the metal near the sniper, causing him to duck down behind the railing. The Albanian arms dealers by the cars had pulled a mix of pistols and even a couple of Uzi submachine guns, yet it was Jane who landed the first real hits. One of the gangsters standing off to the left caught a couple of bullets in the chest, and he grimaced with pain before crumpling to the ground unceremoniously, the gun clattering onto the ground near him.

Sophie swung her aim around, shooting rapidly, acting on instinct more than any real forethought. The arms dealer who had done most of the talking fired a shot at her, but he caught her return volley squarely, blood splattering as two new holes were put through his torso. He fell into a heap by the car, all while the older chief arms dealer stumbled under the barrage that Jane and Dingo sent his way. Multiple bloody spurts riddled his torso, the old timer falling backwards upon the hood of his luxury car, face contorting with a mix of pain and horror. The expression eased into something much more relaxed as he fell, his life leaving him in moments as his heart gave out under the sudden shock of multiple bullet wounds.

Brooklyn had swooped across the dockyard then, bearing upon the overwatching sniper in seconds. He tackled the man against the outer wall of the crane on his perch, grappling with him for the rifle before he swung it hard to the left. The force the gargoyle put behind this move was enough to send the sniper over the railing, whereupon he plunged to the asphalt below, his scream being cut short before it had even properly began. Brooklyn gave the now deceased sniper little further thought at that point, his attention being drawn to the exchange of fire below.

Another of the arms dealers went down. Covey, caught out in the open, put up his hands in a futile attempt to either surrender or protect himself. Instead, he twitched and half-spun as a volley of Uzi fire tore through him. He fell to the ground, jacket stained with blood, a startled look upon his face.

Dingo stumbled then, with a bullet having struck the suitcase he had been holding in his left hand. A latch on it broke, causing the suitcase to fling open. A cascade of fifty and one-hundred-dollar bills spilled out of it, fluttering about on the light breeze and spreading out across the open ground before him.

"Ah, shit." Dingo took several steps back under the weapons fire, gun empty and money being lost to the wind.

Jane was up on her feet, standing confidently as she fired off her pistol. A wide smile was on her face, and she sent another of the arms dealers falling. The windshield on the car behind that one shattered as several of the rounds struck it, spilling hundreds of shards of glass across the upholstery and the hood.

"Go to hell, you motherfuckers!" It sounded like Jane was enjoying herself a little too much.

Sophie, crouched low, promptly reloaded her gun. Her heart was thumping, sweat beading on her forehead, hands shaking a little more than they should have been. She watched as one of the gangsters scrambled into the stationary Rolls Royce. He had the engine started right away, and he practically floored the accelerator, sending it barrelling towards Sophie and the others.

She had only seconds to get out of the way, and this amounted to her throwing herself to the ground off to her left as the car tore past her, missing her legs by inches and going right on through the space she had just been occupying. Dingo and Jane shifted their aim to the fleeing car, smashing the front and side windows with their rapid fire. Blood splattered against the inside of the windshield, the driver slumping upon the steering wheel. It swung hard to the left, crashing headlong into a stack of cardboard boxes, some of which were simply flattened as the car went through them. White packing foam spilled across the lane before the car slammed front-first into a solid concrete partition. The front-end crumpled, smoke erupting out of the ruptured engine. The bullet-ridden body of the gangster was sent flying out of the driver's seat, before it landed spread-eagled across the battered hood, smearing blood in its wake.

Brooklyn appeared off to Sophie's right as she recovered from her tumble. Bullets cracked overhead from the remaining gangsters. The car with the goods inside was still where it was, with only a few bullet holes in the side.

"Brooklyn, the car!" She gestured towards the car in question. "It's got the merchandise!" She rose to her knees and turned towards the trio of remaining arms dealers. Tonight would not be a total loss, she would not allow it. "I'll cover you!" She opened fire then, laying down a rapid volley at the arms dealers still gunning for them.

Brooklyn darted for the car, keeping low as one of the gangsters turned his Uzi in the gargoyle's direction. The weapon sounded off with a steady and rapid tuk-tuk-tuk, sending bullets into the metal face of the warehouse at Brooklyn's back. He came upon the car and the gangster who had been driving it, who now lay in a pool of his own blood near the car's front-end. Brooklyn ducked down behind the car and dragged the body into cover with him. He was wise enough to keep behind the engine block, perhaps the only part of the car capable of halting bullets to any extent. As for the rest of it, sheet metal and plastic did little to stop even a 9mm pistol round.

Brooklyn found the car keys in the dead man's shirt pocket. The gangster with the Uzi went down, catching a bullet with his teeth that blew a chunk out of the back of his head. The gargoyle unlocked the door, turning to Sophie and the others. It was oddly unusual to see a whole lot of money fluttering about in the breeze, whilst Dingo tried to keep the damaged suitcase closed in an attempt to save as much as he could.

Sophie was by his side then. The last two arms dealers had turned and ran, with Jane shooting one of them in the back, sending him falling face-first onto the concrete underfoot. The last one fled into the night, having figured that dying over an arms deal for his now deceased boss simply was not worth it. The whole exchange had lasted little more than a minute, and as the gunfire ceased, Sophie found herself looking about the scene with a sense of grim satisfaction and relief.

Money was flapping about on the wind and bodies were strewn about, but she was alive. And so was Brooklyn. He opened the car door for her, allowing her to climb inside. Dingo and Jane followed, moving with renewed urgency. From somewhere distant, the sounds of police sirens travelled along the night air, growing slowly in volume as the cops neared the scene of the disturbance.

The group had no time to really think about what happened, and with that in mind Sophie took the keys from Brooklyn and started the car's engine. Jane and Dingo climbed into the back, with the latter leaning forwards with a grim expression.

"Get us out of here, copper," he stated. Sophie turned to Brooklyn, seeking his suggestion. She felt oddly cold after what had just happened, and she saw a similar grimness in Brooklyn's gaze.

"Go on," he said, after a few seconds' pause. "I'll follow from up high." With that said, he slammed the car door shut and disappeared, headed for the nearest rooftop. Sophie decided not to loiter any longer, putting the car into 'drive' before swinging it onto the path for the main road. Her foot worked the accelerator hard, that mounting worry of being pursued growing with each passing second.

They were out of there a good five minutes before the first police car appeared, the officers drawn to a call from a local about gunfire. When they saw what had been left behind at the scene, they were quick to call in backup.

Unsurprisingly, it was Jane who spoke first on the drive back to Xanatos' warehouse. She practically cheered from the backseat, her face alight with excitement.

"We did it, we fucking did it!"

"Did what?" Sophie glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, the younger woman's excited face giving way to something a little more dour. "We just gunned down a bunch of Albanian mobsters, what the hell is there to be proud of?"

"Quit being such a buzzkill," Jane countered, her mood ruined. Sophie took them onto one of the main roads, headed for the nearest bridge going back to New Jersey. "We took out a bunch of scumbag crooks, that's what we did. And we saved the taxpayer a hell of a lot of money by doing it. That's more of a difference done in one night than you could pull off in a year as a Detective."

"That's not the point." Sophie gritted her teeth, anger spiking. Dingo was the very picture of calm and collected in comparison, sitting next to Jane with the suitcase on his lap, arms resting upon it. At least they still had the money, save for the few thousand that had been lost to the breeze, not to mention the merchandise in the trunk.

"It was supposed to be a smooth exchange," Sophie continued, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. At this hour, this far from downtown Manhattan, the streets were quiet. Very little traffic was around the dock area at eleven o'clock at night.

"They were going to rip us off," Jane said. "You're a Detective, you could see that. That Covey guy was trying to set us up."

"I don't think so. He was as surprised as we are."

"Yeah, so surprised he's now dead." Dingo was the one to say this, and his voice cut through the pair's exchange like a knife. "There's no use dwelling on what happened. We got what we came here for, and we kept the money as a bonus. We best get back to Xanatos and work out our next step."

"You don't need to tell me twice." In all her years as a cop, she had seldom needed to fire her gun. Now, in only a few days she had done so on two occasions and even been forced to kill in the process. Just what the hell was going on?

Xanatos had not been kidding when he had mentioned a 'war' going on behind the scenes, since shootouts were certainly a staple of warfare. Still, it was all a little overwhelming. Sophie realised she was clenching the steering wheel a little too tightly, her knuckles almost going white. She eased off of it, guiding the car onto a bridge and back into the New Jersey side of the river. The rest of the drive was done in relative quiet, which suited Sophie just fine. At least Jane had the good sense to know when she should keep her mouth shut.

Brooklyn was already at the warehouse when the trio arrived. He was waiting just past the more innocuous side entrance, dark eyes watching the outside lot carefully as if he expected trouble. After what had just happened, trouble was practically a given at some point. Sophie parked the car near the entrance and hurried out, with Dingo and Jane moving on ahead whilst she met Brooklyn in the short corridor that ran past what had once been a reception area.

"Are you all right?" He asked her. The pair stood by a set of windows covered over with plastic blinds, some of the silvery moonlight seeping in around them. Sophie shrugged in reply, and Brooklyn moved closer to her in order to wrap his arms around her.

"I don't know," she said, leaning into the gargoyle's embrace. He was the kind of sturdy presence she needed right now, especially when her doubts and her fears were running roughshod through her psyche. She had seen her fair share of violence, that was to be expected when working in law enforcement. She just did not commit too much of it herself, and it was this fact that she was having a little difficulty wrapping her head around.

"Just what have we gotten into here, Brooklyn?" She looked up into his eyes, seeing the doubt evident in them. He shared a similar opinion to her, it seemed, and in response the gargoyle shook his head slowly.

"I don't know, Sophie." He sounded morose. "But if doing this means finding Vincent and Goliath, if it means stopping the Illuminati and whoever else might be working for them, then it's what we're going to do. Whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes, huh?" That was a dangerous attitude to have. From the way Brooklyn was looking at her, he was thinking much the same. Before either of them could comment on it further, a familiar voice sounded from the other side of the room.

"I hear the meeting got a bit heated?" Xanatos wheeled himself into the room, stopping a few metres away. He regarded the embracing pair with a quirked eyebrow, and Sophie was quick to ease herself out of Brooklyn's otherwise welcome grasp.

"Heated?" Sophie should have figured Xanatos would be one to understate things. "It got a little more than that, I think."

"But we have the goods and the money as well." Xanatos sounded pleased. "By all appearances, then, things went better than expected."

"Better than expected?" Now it was Brooklyn's turn to sound outraged, and he moved upon Xanatos in a flash, closing the distance between him and the wheelchair-bound man with his eyes ablaze with brilliant white. A growl escaped his throat as he planted both his powerful hands upon the arms of Xanatos' wheelchair, his glowing eyes fixing right upon Xanatos' unfazed ones.

"You call that better than expected?" Brooklyn demanded, his voice rising in volume. Xanatos did not move; instead, he remained infuriatingly calm. Sophie could see that Brooklyn was close to doing something drastic, and so she put a hand to his shoulder in an effort to placate him.

"Easy, Brook. Don't go beating on the cripple." It was strange how she could still manage a smile after what had just happened. Maybe it was a sign she was simply desensitised to it all, something that she thought should worry her more than it did.

"I'm not the kind of person to hurt someone who's handicapped," Brooklyn said, the glow fading from his eyes as he spoke, "But for you, Xanatos, I'm beginning to think I should make an exception."

"You won't hurt me, Brooklyn," Xanatos countered. Again, so smug and self-assured. "You're too good for that. Besides, I'm your only lead on the Illuminati and, by extension, your missing friends."

Brooklyn let out an irritated huff, before he released his grip upon Xanatos' wheelchair and backed away a few steps. Sophie kept a hand on his shoulder, almost able to feel the anger rolling off of the gargoyle's body. He was so fearsome at times that it even frightened her; yet, at the same time, she found Brooklyn's enraged episodes oddly enthralling.

"So, all's well that ends well," Xanatos declared, all smiles. "Now, I don't know about you two, but I'd say it's about time for our Miami vacation, wouldn't you agree?"