Notes: Late, yet again. Real life tends to get overwhelming. But with
summer approaching and only two more citywides to go, I'm sure I'll have
more time. Vacation!!! Good Lord, I can't wait for vacation!!!! ::eyes go
starry at the thought of London and Paris::
I was getting off-topic. Anyway, while the usual thanks to Kathryn applies, I would like to make a note of this chapter and future chapters concerning Olivia. She is very busy with school and can't always beta read my work (which is why this chapter might suck more than usual). I know, school's almost over (thank god), but my next two possible fanfics deal with the Jackie/Valmont pairing, something Olivia doesn't feel comfortable reading. Therefore, I am in search for a new beta reader. Anyone interested? Drop me a line: queen_orual@hotmail.com.
And finally, the Warning: Gorey stuff in here. Changed the rating to PG- 13. Maybe higher later on, depends on how many more gruesome scenes get knocked into here.
Oh yeah, and one more disclaimer: I do not own Jackie Chan or his adventures, whether they are somewhat tenable or just plain weird. (I'm still trying to figure out that chi-sucking vampire episode...) But here's the twist!--I don't own Rupert Thorne either. Just his son. I hope that if there are any Batman fans out there you'll enjoy the usage of the infamous Gotham crime lord.
THE DEMON WITHIN
Part Nine: Criminals Unite!
Autumn being the current season, the night was a bit nippy; but Valmont hardly realised that now. He took slow and steady steps, like a robot on command, down the block and a half towards Rupert Thorne II's hideout. In his mind, Valmont rehearsed the set of orders Shendu had given him. He didn't want to go through with this humiliation, but Shendu hadn't left him a choice in the matter, and he feared the ponder the consequences of disobedience.
San Diego was, in fact, a lovely city to visit. There were, surprisingly, palm trees along the sidewalk; cafes occupied the city blocks; and the neighbourhoods were generally clean and pretty. This part of town, though, was quite the opposite, for there was no indication of beauty at all. Litter decorated the streets; graffiti on the walls and buildings; essentially, it was a dangerous place with gangs and drug dealers. The latter part, of course, was why Valmont and Shendu were there to begin with.
At the present Valmont was walking down a street with plenty of litter to spare, with old fashioned-looking homes, all coloured a hideous shade of brown or black; it reminded Valmont of a slum in England, far from where he'd grown up in his rich London neighbourhood. He only managed to suppress a wistful sigh: he hadn't been home for a long, long time. Perhaps, when all this was over, he'd go back there for a while. After all, being possessed by a demon was rather exhausting, and he felt he had every right to a short vacation back in his homeland.
If he miraculously managed to get out of this alive, at any rate.
He reached the desired venue: 2224 Palm Street was in the very heart of the block. Gold lights illuminated the inside of the brown, shabby house, and the wild laughter of men could be heard a mile away. Before going in, Valmont instinctively checked himself over: his hair was combed and his lime suit, which Shendu had somehow magically produced, was not wrinkled. Satisfied, Valmont took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
The peephole slid open to reveal one small, black eye. "Password," the man said gruffly.
"Chinchilla**," Valmont responded in his clipped English accent.
The man hesitated. He turned to whisper something to someone behind him. When he returned, he demanded, "What's a chinchilla?"
Valmont rolled his eyes, and didn't bother to contain his impatience. "It's a furry rodent, like a squirrel - now open the bloody door!" As if to illustrate his point, Valmont raised his fist and struck the door.
The man took a step back in surprise. Then, glaring and mumbling unintelligible words, he unlocked and opened the door. Straightening his tie, Valmont went inside.
Boxes were aligned against the wall. In the heart of the room was a poker table with eight men sitting around it. They stopped their game and stared at Valmont, cigars in hand. The smoke wafted its way to Valmont's nose, and he struggled to keep it from wrinkling.
Masking his disgust, Valmont quickly scanned everyone's face and saw that they were, as expected, looking rather angry. Rupert Thorne II, who sat at the head of the table facing Valmont, had an expression reading that of curiosity and amusement.
Thorne was trying to provoke him; that much was obvious. Under normal circumstances Valmont would beat him to it. This time, though, there was one tiny prospect that held him back: Shendu. This was all part of Shendu's brilliant plan: watch as Valmont would be humiliated, and then get down to business. Summoning every ounce of confidence he had -- which had reduced greatly, ever since Shendu claimed residence in his soul -- Valmont prepared for the battle ahead. His hands slid in his pockets, his eyebrows were raised somewhat, and a half-mocking smile was drawn on his lips, making him look generally at ease and successfully masking the true turmoil within his mind.
"Ruppie-two," he murmured. "Delightful to see you again. How's the business, old chap?"
"The business is good," Thorne replied. "What're you doing here?"
Valmont strolled, the clank of his shoes dominating the creak of the aged wooden floorboards. Slowly, he felt his confidence return, and he relished in its power. "Why, I just need a place to stay for a bit, that's all. You can grant an old friend that favour, couldn't you, Ruppie?"
"Why should I?" Thorne sneered. "It ain't exactly like you got some way to pay me back!" At this the other men howled.
Valmont waited, but Shendu would not come. He lowered his head and stared at the floor -- two roaches scuttled across his line of sight -- and waiting for Shendu to make a move. _You've had your fun,_ he thought weakly, _now go._
For once, the demon complied. Thorne and his gang's laughter was disturbed by a sudden blast of flame. The men gasped and ducked beneath the table at once, and the fire ball slammed into the wall. This left an open space revealing the red brick wall of the next door house, shadowed by the dark night. Slowly, Thorne poked his head above the table, his men following, to see Valmont glaring at him with livid red eyes. His mouth was contorted into an ingratiating smile.
Sweat beaded down Thorne's forehead. He gulped.
The hole in the wall served for a better purpose than a good view at the next door house: from there entered a dozen Shadowkhan, and they encircled Thorne and his men. They stood in fighting stances. There was no escape.
"Wha-what d'ya want?" Thorne choked out. "I'll give ya anythin', I swear!"
"I do, actually, have one request." Valmont spoke, but it was not his voice. It was raspy to make it sound ominous; amplified to make it superior; it was Shendu's. "Your entire operation is now under my control," he continued.
"Now hold up!" One man stood up and step forward. Plastered over his muscular body was a sweaty black tank top, matching his dark eyes, which were set in defiance. Dirt-stained, baggy blue jeans hung on his waist, secured only by a belt. His dark hair was matted in gel. "This is insane!"
Shendu looked not in the least bit perplexed. In fact, his hideous smile only grew. "Ah, so we have a skeptic." He glanced at one of the Shadowkha, who immediately unsheathed its sword and lunged toward the man. Before he had a chance to move, the Shadowkha swerved its sword to the right, and locked in on the man's neck. Blood splattered everywhere; the man's head rolled on the floor by the table.
One of Thorne's other members swooned, while Thorne himself stared from the head, to the Shadowkhan who had now resumed his previous position, to Shendu's amused facade. He took delight in Thorne's wide eyes and slacked jaw, similar to the others' expressions.
"Shall we make an example of this fool? Or would anybody else like to attempt a rebellion?" Silence: tense, ominous silence. "Good. Now, before we do anything, we'll be having a visitor: I trust you shall show him the same courtesy as you've shown me."
They all nodded vigourously.
************
The street was dark, deserted. One step at a time Jackie went, left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right. When would he reach his destination? The question had come to his muddled mind more than once, and every time it did he would become discouraged and stop. And each time this happened the wind would come and ruffle through his hair gently, softly, and press against his skin, warm and comforting. Revived, he would continue once more.
He only made it to the corner of Moulberry Street, one block from Uncle's Rare Finds. A dark figure stood before him, and he gazed it, looking listless and uninterested. It was a Shadowkha, he finally realised, but the thought slipped his mind as quickly as it had come. The Shadowkha held out his hand, and, without giving any consideration, Jackie took it.
A spot of darkness grew from their hands -- it expanded and encompassed them. Then they were gone.
************
Dark blue dominated the sky for the most part, but occasionally one could spot highlights of the early morning. For Finn, Chow, and Ratso, daylight was bad; for daylight brought people, and someone would soon undoubtedly spot them in their bright orange prison clothing. Although Chow now carried the duffel, what they really needed was a place to change.
"How 'bout an alley?" Ratso suggested, and was responded with stares from his companions. "What?"
"Have you never heard of the word 'privacy'?" Finn retorted.
"Yeah," Ratso pronounced the word slowly, as if it were foreign to him. "So?"
"Never mind."
They turned on main street, a wide block composed of shops and malls, Starbucks and ice cream parlours. Groaning to himself, Finn sat down on a green bench beneath a tree. Chow and Ratso joined him.
Only two hours had past since they'd managed to elude the police. It had been a hard struggle, but with the expense of bullets and a knowledge of the prison from both the past week and other previous experiences they managed to miraculously escape. The next step, they all knew, was to get to Chinatown where they would find Chan at his Uncle's little antique store. For some reason, though, Finn was reluctant to go there: and it wasn't only the fear of getting jailed again by Captain Black. Finn wanted first-hand knowledge of Valmont's whereabouts; partly to assure himself, and partly for any emergency that would require them to get to Valmont themselves.
"Hey, Finn." Chow nudged the red-haired man with his elbow and pointed to a building across the street. Finn saw that it read: PUBLIC BATHROOM.
"Hey, nice going!" Finn exclaimed as leaped off the bench and crossed the busy street, Chow and Ratso following. He gripped the knob, tried to turn at it, then yanked at it.
A wave of dismay washed over the Enforcers as they realised it was locked.
"Aww, and I really had to go!" Ratso complained.
The light turned green, and cars whizzed by, ruling out the option of shooting the lock. Cursing under his breath, Finn turned to face his companions. "Well," he said, "looks like we'll have to use the alley after all." Ratso cheered this on, Chow groaned, and Finn frowned.
They took to the back streets, where there was less of a chance of running into any unfriendly policemen. The whole area was deserted, save for a few parked cars here and there. They stopped at a narrow alleyway, and Finn devised a plan: they would go one at a time for privacy's sake, and two of them would stand guard till the other had finished dressing. Chow took the liberty of going first, a right he'd earned from carrying the bag the whole time. Then Ratso went, leaving Finn last.
Before long they were all dressed in their usual, comfortable apparel. Finn breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that they weren't quite as conspicuous as they had been in that bright, hideous orange prison uniform. Just to be on the safe side, however, they decided to stay in that alley until they could concoct a plan. Ratso parked himself on a dumpster while Finn and Chow preferred to stand.
"What're we gonna do now?" Chow asked the question that had been on all their minds. "Go find Chan?"
Much to their surprise, Finn shook his head No.
"Why not?" Ratso asked. "I thought that was what we were supposed to do."
"We are. But I wanna do something different." Finn began to pace back and forth, rubbing his chin pensively. "What if Chan can't kill Shendu? What if we're too late?" Chow and Ratso exchanged glances at this, realising that Finn had a point. "I mean, we can't take the chance. We gotta solve this ourselves."
"How?" came from both Chow and Ratso simultaneously.
Finn stopped pacing and leaned against the brick wall. "Hey, I heard Big V say something about some guy 'Ruppie-two.' Said he was gonna stay with him. Does that ring a bell to either of you?"
They all thought for a moment. At length, Chow snapped his fingers and said, "Yeah! That's Ruppert Thorne II, doncha remember? That's who Valmont gets part of his drug supplies from. Trades with 'im and stuff."
"Bingo!" Finn explained. "Now, all we gotta do is find out where this guy is."
"Well how're we gonna do that?" Ratso wondered aloud.
Here, Finn's face fell, and Chow and Ratso braced themselves. "The library," he muttered.
"WHAT?!?!" Finn nodded sombrely.
"But we can't!" cried Chow.
"Yeah!" Ratso agreed. "I ain't never been in a library in my life! All those books scare me..." He shuddered.
"Look, it's not like we have a choice," Finn said. "You want the world to go boom? Huh? No. Then we gotta do research. Give Chan or Captain Black or somebody a lead -- not to mention ourselves."
Ratso looked miserable. He stood behind Chow, shivering. "But Fi-inn," he whined, "the books laugh at me..."
Rapidly losing his patience, Finn snapped, "Look, I don't wanna go in there either, but we have to! So just get over it!" He shook his head and looked away. Once more he longed for the security of Valmont's rule over the Dark Hand. It was he who was in charge of the crime network that had once dominated all others. Now it was mocked, if not forgotten altogether.
Finn checked his watch: quarter to seven. They had time -- too much time, probably. Just to be sure though, they decided to hop on a bus to the library anyway.
The bus driver didn't recognise them, though he did give them a suspicious eye as they climbed aboard. Finn, wary of this, kept his hand in his coat where his gun was.
Their stop was at Main Street, and they walked two blocks to the library. One short set of wide concrete steps later, the threesome found themselves facing a sign tacked to the door, whose content hammered and flattened their spirits:
CLOSED.
"Well. This was a dead end," Chow remarked dryly.
"Hold on," Finn said as he continued reading the sign. "It says it'll be open at nine."
"Great, but what are we gonna do in the meantime?"
The result was ninety minutes worth of sitting in a nearby alley, hidden amoung the twists and turns of the labyrinth streets. Much to the Enforcers' distaste it was infested with broken glass, garbage, and creepy crawlers. At one point a rat had scurried past Chow's line of sight, and the result was him shivering in Ratso's lap, clinging to him for dear life. And Ratso, assuming Chow was being affectionate, grinned and embraced him tightly. Finn stared in disbelief.
The arrival of nine was a blessing for all of them. They ran out of the alley, down the streets and up the stairs, and when they reached the library, switched to walking.
The librarian didn't look up from her computer. Finn paused when he saw her: her dark hair shined from the overhead lights, her porcelain skin was tinted by the computer screen, her tight baby blue shirt showed off her slim figure. Finn almost considered approaching her until an image of Valmont popped into his head, and, scowling, he followed Chow and Ratso deeper in the maze of books.
"So," began Chow as they walked, "how DO we research?"
Finn thought for a moment while Ratso, shaking, hugged himself and glanced in the directions of the shelves. "You guys...I don't know how long I can stand this...all these books..."
His companions ignored him. Finn snapped his fingers suddenly. "Hey! How 'bout a computer? That's how they look stuff up in movies, anyway."
Chow asked, "Like in 'I know What You Did Last Summer' and Jennifer Love Hewitt was looking up who killed that guy or whatever?"
"Yeah!"
"...all these books..."
They found six computers upstairs, aligned against each other. Within minutes Finn was online, and Chow and Ratso had pulled up chairs beside him. Time passed, and Finn thought he was getting nowhere until he stumbled upon an old article from the Gotham Times website.
"'On Saturday, June 14 1990, authorities confirmed the death of crime legend Rupert Thorne at one a.m. in the midst of a gang fight.' Blah blah blah..." Finn stopped reading.
"What is it?" Chow asked.
"It says here that Thorne's five million was never recovered," Finn said. "Thorne's kid took it."
"And then *he* revived his father's business," Chow finished.
"Yeah. Anyway, Thorne's got a bunch of connections: Bill "Duffboy" Baggins, Igor Putin, Luigi Vechetti, the Royal Flush Gang, the Ministry of Pain...the Dark Hand..." Finn scanned the list. "Oh! And Big Brother! Valmont's got a strong link with them."
"We even know where they are!" Chow cried.
Finn smiled. "Exactly."
"Please, you guys," Ratso piped up, "can we leave yet?"
"Actually, Ratso," Finn stretched and rose from his chair, "I'd be more than happy to."
~-~-~-
Oh my god, I can't believe I finished this part. It took me so long to just sit down and *write.* I'll try to get a better start on the next part.
**About that whole Chinchilla thing. I hope most of you got that pun, but if you didn't, just wait till you watch "Rumble in the Big House"--that ep where Jackie and Valmont and the Enforcers infiltrated some jail and set some demon free. It was...weird. But we did find out that Ratso is gay -- something that is, sadly, considered abnormal in the world of cartoons.
I was getting off-topic. Anyway, while the usual thanks to Kathryn applies, I would like to make a note of this chapter and future chapters concerning Olivia. She is very busy with school and can't always beta read my work (which is why this chapter might suck more than usual). I know, school's almost over (thank god), but my next two possible fanfics deal with the Jackie/Valmont pairing, something Olivia doesn't feel comfortable reading. Therefore, I am in search for a new beta reader. Anyone interested? Drop me a line: queen_orual@hotmail.com.
And finally, the Warning: Gorey stuff in here. Changed the rating to PG- 13. Maybe higher later on, depends on how many more gruesome scenes get knocked into here.
Oh yeah, and one more disclaimer: I do not own Jackie Chan or his adventures, whether they are somewhat tenable or just plain weird. (I'm still trying to figure out that chi-sucking vampire episode...) But here's the twist!--I don't own Rupert Thorne either. Just his son. I hope that if there are any Batman fans out there you'll enjoy the usage of the infamous Gotham crime lord.
THE DEMON WITHIN
Part Nine: Criminals Unite!
Autumn being the current season, the night was a bit nippy; but Valmont hardly realised that now. He took slow and steady steps, like a robot on command, down the block and a half towards Rupert Thorne II's hideout. In his mind, Valmont rehearsed the set of orders Shendu had given him. He didn't want to go through with this humiliation, but Shendu hadn't left him a choice in the matter, and he feared the ponder the consequences of disobedience.
San Diego was, in fact, a lovely city to visit. There were, surprisingly, palm trees along the sidewalk; cafes occupied the city blocks; and the neighbourhoods were generally clean and pretty. This part of town, though, was quite the opposite, for there was no indication of beauty at all. Litter decorated the streets; graffiti on the walls and buildings; essentially, it was a dangerous place with gangs and drug dealers. The latter part, of course, was why Valmont and Shendu were there to begin with.
At the present Valmont was walking down a street with plenty of litter to spare, with old fashioned-looking homes, all coloured a hideous shade of brown or black; it reminded Valmont of a slum in England, far from where he'd grown up in his rich London neighbourhood. He only managed to suppress a wistful sigh: he hadn't been home for a long, long time. Perhaps, when all this was over, he'd go back there for a while. After all, being possessed by a demon was rather exhausting, and he felt he had every right to a short vacation back in his homeland.
If he miraculously managed to get out of this alive, at any rate.
He reached the desired venue: 2224 Palm Street was in the very heart of the block. Gold lights illuminated the inside of the brown, shabby house, and the wild laughter of men could be heard a mile away. Before going in, Valmont instinctively checked himself over: his hair was combed and his lime suit, which Shendu had somehow magically produced, was not wrinkled. Satisfied, Valmont took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
The peephole slid open to reveal one small, black eye. "Password," the man said gruffly.
"Chinchilla**," Valmont responded in his clipped English accent.
The man hesitated. He turned to whisper something to someone behind him. When he returned, he demanded, "What's a chinchilla?"
Valmont rolled his eyes, and didn't bother to contain his impatience. "It's a furry rodent, like a squirrel - now open the bloody door!" As if to illustrate his point, Valmont raised his fist and struck the door.
The man took a step back in surprise. Then, glaring and mumbling unintelligible words, he unlocked and opened the door. Straightening his tie, Valmont went inside.
Boxes were aligned against the wall. In the heart of the room was a poker table with eight men sitting around it. They stopped their game and stared at Valmont, cigars in hand. The smoke wafted its way to Valmont's nose, and he struggled to keep it from wrinkling.
Masking his disgust, Valmont quickly scanned everyone's face and saw that they were, as expected, looking rather angry. Rupert Thorne II, who sat at the head of the table facing Valmont, had an expression reading that of curiosity and amusement.
Thorne was trying to provoke him; that much was obvious. Under normal circumstances Valmont would beat him to it. This time, though, there was one tiny prospect that held him back: Shendu. This was all part of Shendu's brilliant plan: watch as Valmont would be humiliated, and then get down to business. Summoning every ounce of confidence he had -- which had reduced greatly, ever since Shendu claimed residence in his soul -- Valmont prepared for the battle ahead. His hands slid in his pockets, his eyebrows were raised somewhat, and a half-mocking smile was drawn on his lips, making him look generally at ease and successfully masking the true turmoil within his mind.
"Ruppie-two," he murmured. "Delightful to see you again. How's the business, old chap?"
"The business is good," Thorne replied. "What're you doing here?"
Valmont strolled, the clank of his shoes dominating the creak of the aged wooden floorboards. Slowly, he felt his confidence return, and he relished in its power. "Why, I just need a place to stay for a bit, that's all. You can grant an old friend that favour, couldn't you, Ruppie?"
"Why should I?" Thorne sneered. "It ain't exactly like you got some way to pay me back!" At this the other men howled.
Valmont waited, but Shendu would not come. He lowered his head and stared at the floor -- two roaches scuttled across his line of sight -- and waiting for Shendu to make a move. _You've had your fun,_ he thought weakly, _now go._
For once, the demon complied. Thorne and his gang's laughter was disturbed by a sudden blast of flame. The men gasped and ducked beneath the table at once, and the fire ball slammed into the wall. This left an open space revealing the red brick wall of the next door house, shadowed by the dark night. Slowly, Thorne poked his head above the table, his men following, to see Valmont glaring at him with livid red eyes. His mouth was contorted into an ingratiating smile.
Sweat beaded down Thorne's forehead. He gulped.
The hole in the wall served for a better purpose than a good view at the next door house: from there entered a dozen Shadowkhan, and they encircled Thorne and his men. They stood in fighting stances. There was no escape.
"Wha-what d'ya want?" Thorne choked out. "I'll give ya anythin', I swear!"
"I do, actually, have one request." Valmont spoke, but it was not his voice. It was raspy to make it sound ominous; amplified to make it superior; it was Shendu's. "Your entire operation is now under my control," he continued.
"Now hold up!" One man stood up and step forward. Plastered over his muscular body was a sweaty black tank top, matching his dark eyes, which were set in defiance. Dirt-stained, baggy blue jeans hung on his waist, secured only by a belt. His dark hair was matted in gel. "This is insane!"
Shendu looked not in the least bit perplexed. In fact, his hideous smile only grew. "Ah, so we have a skeptic." He glanced at one of the Shadowkha, who immediately unsheathed its sword and lunged toward the man. Before he had a chance to move, the Shadowkha swerved its sword to the right, and locked in on the man's neck. Blood splattered everywhere; the man's head rolled on the floor by the table.
One of Thorne's other members swooned, while Thorne himself stared from the head, to the Shadowkhan who had now resumed his previous position, to Shendu's amused facade. He took delight in Thorne's wide eyes and slacked jaw, similar to the others' expressions.
"Shall we make an example of this fool? Or would anybody else like to attempt a rebellion?" Silence: tense, ominous silence. "Good. Now, before we do anything, we'll be having a visitor: I trust you shall show him the same courtesy as you've shown me."
They all nodded vigourously.
************
The street was dark, deserted. One step at a time Jackie went, left foot, right foot, left, right, left, right. When would he reach his destination? The question had come to his muddled mind more than once, and every time it did he would become discouraged and stop. And each time this happened the wind would come and ruffle through his hair gently, softly, and press against his skin, warm and comforting. Revived, he would continue once more.
He only made it to the corner of Moulberry Street, one block from Uncle's Rare Finds. A dark figure stood before him, and he gazed it, looking listless and uninterested. It was a Shadowkha, he finally realised, but the thought slipped his mind as quickly as it had come. The Shadowkha held out his hand, and, without giving any consideration, Jackie took it.
A spot of darkness grew from their hands -- it expanded and encompassed them. Then they were gone.
************
Dark blue dominated the sky for the most part, but occasionally one could spot highlights of the early morning. For Finn, Chow, and Ratso, daylight was bad; for daylight brought people, and someone would soon undoubtedly spot them in their bright orange prison clothing. Although Chow now carried the duffel, what they really needed was a place to change.
"How 'bout an alley?" Ratso suggested, and was responded with stares from his companions. "What?"
"Have you never heard of the word 'privacy'?" Finn retorted.
"Yeah," Ratso pronounced the word slowly, as if it were foreign to him. "So?"
"Never mind."
They turned on main street, a wide block composed of shops and malls, Starbucks and ice cream parlours. Groaning to himself, Finn sat down on a green bench beneath a tree. Chow and Ratso joined him.
Only two hours had past since they'd managed to elude the police. It had been a hard struggle, but with the expense of bullets and a knowledge of the prison from both the past week and other previous experiences they managed to miraculously escape. The next step, they all knew, was to get to Chinatown where they would find Chan at his Uncle's little antique store. For some reason, though, Finn was reluctant to go there: and it wasn't only the fear of getting jailed again by Captain Black. Finn wanted first-hand knowledge of Valmont's whereabouts; partly to assure himself, and partly for any emergency that would require them to get to Valmont themselves.
"Hey, Finn." Chow nudged the red-haired man with his elbow and pointed to a building across the street. Finn saw that it read: PUBLIC BATHROOM.
"Hey, nice going!" Finn exclaimed as leaped off the bench and crossed the busy street, Chow and Ratso following. He gripped the knob, tried to turn at it, then yanked at it.
A wave of dismay washed over the Enforcers as they realised it was locked.
"Aww, and I really had to go!" Ratso complained.
The light turned green, and cars whizzed by, ruling out the option of shooting the lock. Cursing under his breath, Finn turned to face his companions. "Well," he said, "looks like we'll have to use the alley after all." Ratso cheered this on, Chow groaned, and Finn frowned.
They took to the back streets, where there was less of a chance of running into any unfriendly policemen. The whole area was deserted, save for a few parked cars here and there. They stopped at a narrow alleyway, and Finn devised a plan: they would go one at a time for privacy's sake, and two of them would stand guard till the other had finished dressing. Chow took the liberty of going first, a right he'd earned from carrying the bag the whole time. Then Ratso went, leaving Finn last.
Before long they were all dressed in their usual, comfortable apparel. Finn breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that they weren't quite as conspicuous as they had been in that bright, hideous orange prison uniform. Just to be on the safe side, however, they decided to stay in that alley until they could concoct a plan. Ratso parked himself on a dumpster while Finn and Chow preferred to stand.
"What're we gonna do now?" Chow asked the question that had been on all their minds. "Go find Chan?"
Much to their surprise, Finn shook his head No.
"Why not?" Ratso asked. "I thought that was what we were supposed to do."
"We are. But I wanna do something different." Finn began to pace back and forth, rubbing his chin pensively. "What if Chan can't kill Shendu? What if we're too late?" Chow and Ratso exchanged glances at this, realising that Finn had a point. "I mean, we can't take the chance. We gotta solve this ourselves."
"How?" came from both Chow and Ratso simultaneously.
Finn stopped pacing and leaned against the brick wall. "Hey, I heard Big V say something about some guy 'Ruppie-two.' Said he was gonna stay with him. Does that ring a bell to either of you?"
They all thought for a moment. At length, Chow snapped his fingers and said, "Yeah! That's Ruppert Thorne II, doncha remember? That's who Valmont gets part of his drug supplies from. Trades with 'im and stuff."
"Bingo!" Finn explained. "Now, all we gotta do is find out where this guy is."
"Well how're we gonna do that?" Ratso wondered aloud.
Here, Finn's face fell, and Chow and Ratso braced themselves. "The library," he muttered.
"WHAT?!?!" Finn nodded sombrely.
"But we can't!" cried Chow.
"Yeah!" Ratso agreed. "I ain't never been in a library in my life! All those books scare me..." He shuddered.
"Look, it's not like we have a choice," Finn said. "You want the world to go boom? Huh? No. Then we gotta do research. Give Chan or Captain Black or somebody a lead -- not to mention ourselves."
Ratso looked miserable. He stood behind Chow, shivering. "But Fi-inn," he whined, "the books laugh at me..."
Rapidly losing his patience, Finn snapped, "Look, I don't wanna go in there either, but we have to! So just get over it!" He shook his head and looked away. Once more he longed for the security of Valmont's rule over the Dark Hand. It was he who was in charge of the crime network that had once dominated all others. Now it was mocked, if not forgotten altogether.
Finn checked his watch: quarter to seven. They had time -- too much time, probably. Just to be sure though, they decided to hop on a bus to the library anyway.
The bus driver didn't recognise them, though he did give them a suspicious eye as they climbed aboard. Finn, wary of this, kept his hand in his coat where his gun was.
Their stop was at Main Street, and they walked two blocks to the library. One short set of wide concrete steps later, the threesome found themselves facing a sign tacked to the door, whose content hammered and flattened their spirits:
CLOSED.
"Well. This was a dead end," Chow remarked dryly.
"Hold on," Finn said as he continued reading the sign. "It says it'll be open at nine."
"Great, but what are we gonna do in the meantime?"
The result was ninety minutes worth of sitting in a nearby alley, hidden amoung the twists and turns of the labyrinth streets. Much to the Enforcers' distaste it was infested with broken glass, garbage, and creepy crawlers. At one point a rat had scurried past Chow's line of sight, and the result was him shivering in Ratso's lap, clinging to him for dear life. And Ratso, assuming Chow was being affectionate, grinned and embraced him tightly. Finn stared in disbelief.
The arrival of nine was a blessing for all of them. They ran out of the alley, down the streets and up the stairs, and when they reached the library, switched to walking.
The librarian didn't look up from her computer. Finn paused when he saw her: her dark hair shined from the overhead lights, her porcelain skin was tinted by the computer screen, her tight baby blue shirt showed off her slim figure. Finn almost considered approaching her until an image of Valmont popped into his head, and, scowling, he followed Chow and Ratso deeper in the maze of books.
"So," began Chow as they walked, "how DO we research?"
Finn thought for a moment while Ratso, shaking, hugged himself and glanced in the directions of the shelves. "You guys...I don't know how long I can stand this...all these books..."
His companions ignored him. Finn snapped his fingers suddenly. "Hey! How 'bout a computer? That's how they look stuff up in movies, anyway."
Chow asked, "Like in 'I know What You Did Last Summer' and Jennifer Love Hewitt was looking up who killed that guy or whatever?"
"Yeah!"
"...all these books..."
They found six computers upstairs, aligned against each other. Within minutes Finn was online, and Chow and Ratso had pulled up chairs beside him. Time passed, and Finn thought he was getting nowhere until he stumbled upon an old article from the Gotham Times website.
"'On Saturday, June 14 1990, authorities confirmed the death of crime legend Rupert Thorne at one a.m. in the midst of a gang fight.' Blah blah blah..." Finn stopped reading.
"What is it?" Chow asked.
"It says here that Thorne's five million was never recovered," Finn said. "Thorne's kid took it."
"And then *he* revived his father's business," Chow finished.
"Yeah. Anyway, Thorne's got a bunch of connections: Bill "Duffboy" Baggins, Igor Putin, Luigi Vechetti, the Royal Flush Gang, the Ministry of Pain...the Dark Hand..." Finn scanned the list. "Oh! And Big Brother! Valmont's got a strong link with them."
"We even know where they are!" Chow cried.
Finn smiled. "Exactly."
"Please, you guys," Ratso piped up, "can we leave yet?"
"Actually, Ratso," Finn stretched and rose from his chair, "I'd be more than happy to."
~-~-~-
Oh my god, I can't believe I finished this part. It took me so long to just sit down and *write.* I'll try to get a better start on the next part.
**About that whole Chinchilla thing. I hope most of you got that pun, but if you didn't, just wait till you watch "Rumble in the Big House"--that ep where Jackie and Valmont and the Enforcers infiltrated some jail and set some demon free. It was...weird. But we did find out that Ratso is gay -- something that is, sadly, considered abnormal in the world of cartoons.