The White Tiger Dance Club was always busy, even on a Wednesday. Despite the relatively early hour of the evening, there was a line out the door of eager men waiting to find some entertainment for the evening. Percy cut his way to the front of the line, and was pleased to see the bouncer at the door. He had a professional relationship with the man, and after pressing a couple of notes into the man's hand, Percy was let into the club.

Percy hated these kinds of clubs. The smell of cheap beer, sweat and desperation was almost overwhelming. The noise from the subwoofers thumped a painful rhythm into his brain. Clubs like this were a nightmare for people like him. All those bodies shut into an enclosed, difficult to escape space. The flashing lights and bumping music made it difficult to concentrate and it was even more challenging to keep his senses and wits about him.

Pausing to have a whispered conversation with one of the hostesses, Percy was led to the VIP section of the club, before he was settled comfortably in one of the private rooms in the back of the building. Since moving to Gotham, Percy had made an effort to make in-roads with certain populations in the city. Having not grown up in the department in the city, Percy didn't have the kinds of natural inroads with the underworld that Percy had had when he was in Metropolis. But after a couple of months and more than a little effort on his part, Percy had managed to establish a couple of relationships with some prominent members of Gotham's underworld.

Jasmine was one of those connections. Jasmine was a tall Black woman, standing only a few inches shorter than Percy himself when she had her heels on. Her long dark hair was almost always braided into an elegant weave that came to an end around the middle of her back. The door to the room opened, and Jasmine had barely taken one step into the room before she locked eyes with him. Her own brown eyes widened in terror for a moment, before she made to break for the door, but Percy was already up and moving. They had played this little song and dance at least half a dozen times since Percy had started meeting with her.

Releasing a burst of mist-magic, Percy disabled the security feeds in the room and in the blink of an eye he had a hand wrapped around her wrist while he shut the door deftly with the other. With a soft flick of the wrist, Percy locked the door and put on his best smile.

"Hey there Jasmine, long time no talk. How's your mom?"

"Let me out of here Percy, I want nothing to do with you after last time," Jasmine tried to reach around him but Percy effectively managed to lock the door.

"No need to make it sound so bad," said Percy

"Last time, I nearly got jumped by that freak in the top-hat who kept calling me Alice." Snapped Jasmine, "Do I look like that pasty white bitch to you?"

"No you do not," said Percy, pulling free a fresh stack of bills and jamming the wad into her hand, "You look like you want to pay for your mom's meds this month."

A sour expression flickered across Jasmine's face, before she grunted and strode of to the chair usually reserved for clients. Plopping down in the chair, she crossed her legs over one another and glared at him,

"Well?" She asked expectantly, "The fuck you want this time?"

"Just some information," said Percy genially,

"That's always how it starts with you," grumbled Jasmine, "Then the next thing I know, I'm being chased down an alleyway by some lunatic in a fucking top-hat who thinks he's Willy-fucking-Wonka,"

"The Mad Hatter, but good enough," said Percy with a shrug, "You hear about what happened yesterday?"

"Gonna need to be a little more specific," snarked Jasmine, "Lot's of stuff happened yesterday,"

"All right," said Percy, "Did you hear about cop who was shot, yesterday. The lieutenant of a precinct?"

Jasmine stiffened in her chair, but shook her head,

"Nope," she said, unconvincingly, "Didn't hear 'nothin about that."

"You're a terrible liar Jasmine," snorted Percy, as he tossed another bill at her, "Try again,"

"Fine, I heard about it. Pig gets whacked and what, you expect me to feel sorry about it?"

"No," said Percy, "I expect you to know something about why he was shot,"

"Someone needs a reason to shoot a cop?"

"Don't be a wise-ass," said Percy, "You and I both know he was connected to Falcone. I want to know why Falcone wanted him dead."

"I ain't talking about that," said Jasmine, "Hell no, you are not dropping me into that fucking beehive."

"What beehive?" Asked Percy,

"You know damn well what beehive," snapped Jasmine, getting up out of the chair and began making her way to the door.

Percy sighed, he hadn't wanted to resort to the mist, but he wasn't going to get anything more out Jasmine, freaked out as she was.

"Stop," ordered Percy, waving his hand in front of her face. Her eyes went for for a moment, before they drooped as a dazed look fell over he face.

"Sit back down, please," said Percy, and Jasmine did as asked, sitting back down in the chair.

"Talk to me about the Falcone's, what have you been hearing?"

"Not much," said Jasmine, her voice coming out in a low monotone. "The Falcone boys haven't been coming in as often as they used to. Something about a split in the family, but that's all I know."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad enough that Jr. has stopped talking to his brother completely. A couple of the bars on the east side have stopped serving Christian's boys entirely and Rossi's Garbage collection has been having issues with the union."

Percy nodded, and filed that information away for later.

"Any of the boys in recently?"

"A couple of days ago," said Jasmine,

"Did you hear anything about what happened to Winston last night?"

"Not directly," said Jasmine,

"What did they say?" Asked Percy, doing his best to bury his mounting agitation. He forgot how obnoxiously literal he needed to be when interviewing using the mist.

"They talked about how some new guy had been hired to take care of a couple of problems for the family. A professional,"

"Did you hear a name?"

"No I did not,"

"Of course not," muttered Percy, massaging the bridge of his nose, "Because that would be making my life entirely too easy." He sighed and composed himself, "Okay, tell me everything relevant to that conversation,"

"They did not say much," said Jasmine, "Only that whoever it was that was hired had a reputation. They are highly trained and highly skilled, and they have already killed three people."

"Wait what?" Said Percy, "Three? Who is the third?"

"I do not know, I only know that three people have been killed,"

"Fuck!" Growled Percy, turning around and scratching behind his ear. He shot a quick text off to Montoya that they needed to start looking for a third body, not that such a warning would amount to much of anything. They didn't even know who they were looking for, but still. It would be better than nothing. Percy decided he needed to change tactics, and went back to Winston.

"What do you know about what happened to Winston? Why did Falcone want him dead?"

"No idea," said Jasmine, and Percy nearly punched a hole in the wall out of frustration, "The other men didn't know what why he was killed either. As far as they knew, Winston was still in good graces with Falcone."

That was…interesting. It wasn't much, but it was still more than he had before-hand. He didn't think that he would be getting anything more out of Jasmine. Slipping a few more notes into her hand. Percy snapped his fingers and left the room. As he strode out of the Club, he reached into his pocket and gave Montoya a call,

"What the fuck did you find out?" Asked Montoya, "A third fucking body?"

"Apparently; she didn't know who it was only that there was a third body."

"Fuck me, anything else?"

"No," said Percy, "But I was hoping you might know where to find Bullock,"

"That old drunk? The fuck you want to talk to him for?"

"Gordon said he was the lead on the Falcone investigation, I want to pick his brain a little. If we can figure out who the big dogs are, then we can hopefully figure out who we need to focus our attentions on more."

"That makes sense," sighed Montoya, "Knowing him? You can find him at O'Malley's."

"Thanks, I'll tell you what I find out in the morning."

Percy ended the call, and made his way back to his car.

If nothing else, he could at least get a drink. Gods knew he needed one.

He was nearly back at his car when he felt it. The sudden shifting in the wind, the way the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end as goose-pimples ran up and down the backs of his arms. While it was cold out, the reaction had nothing to do with the wintery chill in the air.

He had always been naturally more attune with his father's domains than he let on, and his father controlled far more than the sea and the earth. His father was not revered as the God of Storms for no reason. He felt it, cutting through the air in his direction, just as he put his hand on the door-handle to his car. Felt it hack a deadly streak through wind and snow in his direction. His mind went numb as adrenaline surged through him and his body reacted on instinct alone, preserving his life. He dropped to the sidewalk, a bubble of water materializing around him just in time for something to slam into the top of his shield a moment later. The projectile lost all momentum as it hit the water, and floated lazily down before resting in the palm of his hand.

In the distance, the reverberating crack of a rifle echoed through the chilly night.

A moment later, another projectile slammed into his bubble, bursting the window of his car in the process. Percy fell to the ground, still covered by his bubble and crawled as quickly as he was able underneath the axels of his car. Simultaneously drawing on the water in the air and snow around him to create a natural camouflage, that made him all but invisible to the human eye.

Breathing heavily, his pistol drawn and held tight to his chest, he expanded his senses around him in the hoped of finding his assailant, but to no avail. In a city like Gotham, and with as many people as there were around him, it was an exercise in futility. He would have had better luck trying to a needle in a stack of needles.

He didn't know how long he sat there, hiding beneath the underside of his car. Could have been ten minutes, it could have three hours. But Percy could be a patient man when he needed to be, and so he did not move. He hardly breathed. And he kept his rigid posture for as long as dared. Reaching out to his left, he wrapped a hand around piece of shattered glass from his window and drew it close to him. Using the glass as a mirror, he slowly snaked the glass to and from, scanning the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, but he never saw a thing.

His heart still hammering in his chest, and with his shield and camouflage still up, he carefully rolled out from under the car, making sure to keep the car between himself and where the shot had been fired. He scanned the skyline once more, but did not see his adversary, or any sign of hostile movement. Deciding to risk it, Percy let the camouflage and shield drop, and allowed himself to appear vulnerable for several, agonizing minutes. However nothing more happened. Whoever the shooter had been, either believed they gotten him or had bowed out to try again another day. Panting heavily, Percy dashed from the edge of the car into the total darkness of a nearby alleyway. When he was certain that he was no longer in the sights of anyone, he finally allowed himself to begin calming down.

Collapsing against the side of the wall, he took a deep inhale of breath. Well…at least that confirmed that he had made it onto Falcone's shit-list. That amounted to…something he supposed.

Feeling a strange weight still clutched in his hand, Percy re-holstered his weapon and inspected the projectile he had caught in his bubble. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared down at the tungsten bullet resting against his palm.

"If that's how you want to play it smartass," Percy growled, "Then let's fucking play." Whoever the bastard was, Percy was now personally invested in seeing the bastard locked up.

With renewed vigor for the case, Percy went back to his car. After applying a minor rune to fix the damage to the window, Percy got into his car and revved the engine to life.

It was high time he paid Bullock a visit, and got some answers to his many questions.

BREAK

Unlike the White Tiger, O'Malley's was blessedly empty, save for the bulky frame of Bullock sitting alone at the corner of the bar.

Sliding into the seat beside him, Percy gestured for the bartender to pour him something from the tap.

"The hell are you doing here, Jackson?" Asked Bullock,

"Needed to pick your brain a little," said Percy,

"Of course it's about fucking Falcone," groused Bullock, "Because apparently that's all I'm good for these days," he sighed and downed the remnants of his tumbler and waved to the bartender to refill him while gesturing for Percy to ask his question.

"What's going on between Christian and Sal?" Asked Percy,

"This have anything to do with what happened to Winston?" Asked Bullock as the bartender refilled his tumbler,

"Yeah," said Percy, "Just spoke to an informant, and got confirmation that someone in the family hired a hitman who has been very busy the last couple of days."

"Besides Winston who else is dead?"

"Pelasro as far as we know, and an as of yet unidentified third person,"

Bullock let out a low whistle, "Damn, that's a hell of a hit. But it sounds like Christian is trying to clear the board."

"Pelasaro was one of Sal's then?" Asked Percy,

"From what I've been able to figure out, yeah," nodded Bullock as he tipped his tumbler back and drained another hearty gulp, "Pelasaro was heavy in the book-keeping and horse-racing. It's how his old man made his money for the family too but Pelasaro took it to another level. He and Sal have been friends since they were kids so I guess I'm not surprised. If Christian is serious about the split, then it makes sense that Christian would target him first."

"What caused the split in the first place?" Asked Percy, and Bullock shrugged,

"No idea. I know there was a disagreement between the two about getting into the drug trade, but that isn't something in my experience that leads to a fracture like what we're seeing."

"Any idea who we might want to look at next?" Asked Percy,

"I'd get a detail on Rossi," said Bullock, "Aside from Pelasaro, Luka Rossi was one of the big makers that was in Sal's little circle of friends. If Christian wanted to splinter things even worse, then he would go after him next."

He frowned, and worried at his lip for a moment, "Come to think of it, I haven't heard or seen him in a couple of days…" He and Percy shared a meaningful look, and Percy slammed a wad of cash down on the bar as Bullock rose from his chair,

"Tab's on me," Percy called to the bartender who nodded in appreciation at him, as Percy and Bullock strode from the bar, Percy pulled out his phone and rang up Montoya,

"Bullock and I have a lead on something," he said before she could speak, "You know where Luka Rossi lives?"

"Yeah?" Said Montoya, "We meeting up there?"

"Yeah, Bullock and I are on our way now,"

"Meet you there," and the line clicked dead.

"Get in," said Percy to Bullock as they approached his car, and Bullock didn't argue.

Turning on his sirens, Percy and Bullock raced from the city as Bullock directed Percy out to the suburbs. It was a thirty-minute drive to the house. Much like Pelasaro's house, Rossi's home was in the rolling hills outside the outskirts of the city. Montoya pulled up alongside them at the same time and the three got out and were racing towards the front door.

"The fuck is going on?" Asked Montoya, "Why are we here?"

"Rossi hasn't been seen in a couple of days," said Percy, "And Bullock says that he's in Sal's camp and Christian is trying to clear the board."

"Fuck, okay then" said Montoya as she pulled her side-arm free. Percy and Bullock did the same as they approached the door. Montoya and Bullock stacked up on either side of the door, as Percy approached and wrapped a heavy hand on the side of the door.

"Mr. Rossi, GCPD if you're there please open up!" Percy announced. He waited a couple of seconds before he slammed another set of knocks onto the door. Once again, there was no reply.

"Check the perimeter," Percy ordered as they cleared away from the door and they began walking around the perimeter of the home. The backyard and perimeter of the home was surrounded by a large fence, luckily the fence was only a couple of feet high and Percy was able to see over the fence and into the large backyard.

The backyard was mostly empty with the exception of a few scattering of trees and a small pond in the center. As Percy peered through the darkness, he thought he could see a strange shape in the pond. It was too dark and too far to see, so Percy reached out with his senses and tried to feel the pond. He could feel something, a foreign entity was sitting at the edge of the pond.

His stomach sinking, he reached down to his belt and pulled free his flashlight. Flicking it on, he pointed the light in the direction of the pond, which illuminated the smooth surface of the water. As he scanned up and down, he caught sight of a what was unmistakably a human body laying in the grass.

"Body!" Percy called out, as he hopped over the fence in a smooth motion and took off at a run in the direction of the pond. He was shining the light across the grass in the hopes that he didn't accidentally step on something important. But it was ultimately a fruitless exercise, and within a matter of seconds Percy was kneeling beside the pond and shining the light over the pond. As had been the case with the last several murders, the man's face had been damn near blown off from the force of the shot.

"Goddammit," panted Bullock as he came to a meandering stop beside Percy.

Percy could hear Montoya speaking in the background to someone over the phone, likely speaking to central dispatch and calling in the calvary, but Percy's attention was focused elsewhere. He was scanning through the tree-line. At this point, he was all but certain that they were dealing with a professional sharpshooter. Someone who had been professionally trained. As he scanned the trees, he had an idea as the light from his flashlight reflected over the top of a hill about a mile and a half away from the house. He traced the line from the body, judging the direction it had fallen and traced it back towards the forest. Using his best judgement, he made a rough

"I'll be right back," said Percy, standing abruptly and walking off in the direction of the nearby forest. Bullock said something, but Percy didn't hear him as he began to traipse through the forest. He didn't know how long he walked for as he climbed a steady slope up the side of the gradual hill before eventually climbing through the tree-line and into a small clearing. Shining his flashlight on the ground, Percy found what he was looking for.

In the middle of the clearing was an indentation in the grass. The indentation of a body. As Percy skirted around the edge of the indentation, he began to scan through the grass, but his search ended fruitlessly. He had been hoping to find spent brass in the grass but he should have known better. Changing tactics, Percy stepped in front of the grass indentation and knelt down, taking care not to disrupt too much of the grass.

Reaching into his belt once more, he pulled free a pair of binoculars and began scanning through the trees. He was unsurprised to see that there would have been a semi-clear shot through the trees and into the backyard of Rossi's home. It would have been a damned difficult shot, but if Percy's mounting suspicions were correct, then this guy would have been able to make it.

Sighing in defeat, he pulled his phone free from his pocket and gave Montoya a call.

It was going to be another very long day.

BREAK

After a very long morning on the scene and canvassing the entire forrest debriefing back with Gordon, Percy and Montoya had once more gone their separate ways in order to divide and conquer. Montoya had finally gotten the witness list for the Winston murder and Percy wanted to take another look at the Pelasaro house. He had a funny feeling that he would find something similar to the situation he had found at Rossi's home.

Stepping into the Pelasaro mansion, Percy made his way back to kitchen. The blood had since been cleaned up, but there were still evidence markers lining the floor where Pelasaro's body had been lying dead. Trying to find the correct angle that Pelasaro would have been standing at when he had been shot, Percy turned and tried to look back at where the shot had been taken. Looking back at the door, Percy was unsurprised to see that there was a clear line of sight between the opening of the doorway and where Pelasaro had been shot. Retracing his steps, Percy walked to the door and opened it, walking out on the large deck overlooking the backyard.

However he was soon frustrated as he looked out and saw that the line of sight of frustrated by the building neighboring the backyard. Walking up to the railing, Percy tried to see where or how the shot could have been made. But as he looked, he didn't see a way for the shot to be made without it going through the building itself. While the shooter had made it clear that they were capable of making impossible shots, Percy was all but certain that that would be an impossibility.

Growling in frustration, Percy sighed and leaned agains the railing. There was a flash of something out of the corner of his eye, reflecting off of the sun streaming down. Turning his head, Percy frowned. There was a strange metallic object leaning agains the rail post of the stairs leading down into the backyard. There was something strange about the metallic object that drew his attention more fully, and he got up and walked over. Leaning down on the porch, he examined it.

It was a steel plate, that looked for all intents and purposes like an improperly disposed of piece of scrap metal. As Percy ran his fingers along the metal, the brushed over a scratched section of the metal.

"You've got to be shitting me," he muttered to himself, as he turned around he looked behind him at the door. That was impossible. It was a ludicrous assumption, but Percy had seen the impossible before and he wasn't beyond ruling it out.

Drawing a line from the marking to the door, he was bitterly unsurprised to find that it was almost a perfectly straight line between the piece of metal and the door. Turning back to the metal, he then drew a line from the metal out to the forrest behind the backyard. Making a rough approximation between the metal and what Percy judged to be the right angle needed for the bullet to have deflected from the metal and through the gap in the door.

Sighing, Percy stood from the porch, and began the long walk from the porch to the forrest. He walked for nearly an hour, his progress slow and deliberate as he carved a careful trail.

Finally, however, he broke through the foliage and emerged on the small incline of a grassy hill.

And there was the indentation.

Just like at Rossi's, there was an indentation in the grass. Equally like Rossi's, Percy found nothing of value in the grass beyond the indentation. Taking his phone out, he shot a picture before sending the picture to Montoya. Then, he crouched down in front of the indentation and took a peek through his binoculars. There, through the trees, he could only just make out the glimmering piece of metal resting against the side of the porch.

He lowered his binoculars and let out a soft breath. He didn't know of anyone on the planet capable of ricocheting a bullet onto a live target like that. He needed more help on this one. Pulling his phone back, Percy searched through his contacts for a bit before finding the desired number.

"Hello?" Answered a deep voice after the third ring,

"Ogami?" Asked, Percy, "It's Percy Jackson, how you doing?"

"Jackson?" Said Ogami, sounding genuinely surprised, "How the fuck did you get my number,"

"Magic," snarked Percy, "Listen, you still in Gotham? I'm a detective with GCPD and I need some advice on…a strange one."

Ogami hesitated for a moment, before grunting in resignation.

"You know where Legends is?" He asked and Percy thought for a minute, "The VFW bar on Seventh?"

"That's the one, meet me there in an hour." Ogami hung up the call without another word. Percy sighed as he pocketed the phone. He shouldn't have been surprised by the curt response. Given his reputation in the service after what happened in Biyalya, it was to be expected.

It was a long run back to his car and a longer drive back to the city. He had no doubt that if he was late, Ogami wouldn't hesitate to leave either. With one last glance at the indentation in the grass, Percy turned on his heel, and began the long run back to his car.

AN: Publishing early as a birthday present to MethWishes and because I won't really be near my computer for Thanksgiving. As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.

All My Love and see you next week,

LilDB