Nothing is mine. Especially not JCA or the characters.
The door banged loudly and Finn lifted his eyes from the Math book. There was a fairly well drawn human figure forming on one page. He had tried to do his homework, but couldn't and Math didn't even interest him at all.
Besides, the teacher didn't even bother to ask if he had done anything or not.
"Dad?" he asked.
There was no answer, but that wasn't actually special. With a quiet sigh Finn let his pen fall and stood up to go and see in what condition his father was this time.
Though he knew already, but it was good if he pretended he cared.
"Dad?" he asked again in the hall. He stopped there for a while. Just as he had thought.
Seamus Finn lay on the floor that was covered by a new and clean carpet and seemed to be full asleep. Well, this time he was calm and would probably sleep until the early morning.
The bruises he had got last week were still sore, but he didn't care. Finn was just twelve, but still old enough to realise that his father loved him and never hit or hurt him on purpose.
It was the work of the demons that lived inside of his head and made him drink, shout and argue.
"Come on, dad," he said surprisingly softly for his age and shook his father's shoulder gently, but sharply enough to stir some life in the man.
No reaction, if you didn't count snoring.
Finn snorted at himself and shrugged. His father wasn't a small man and he didn't think he'd ever be able to carry him out of the hall. It was for the best to just let him be, he'd wake up when Finn was already gone.
He went and got his father a blanket from his bedroom and covered the sobering man with it wondering how he had managed to get home. Many of the other men around there couldn't do it, but slept on pavements, stairs or the street. On the other hand, the area where they lived had a pretty good reputation. Finn doubted he would have been allowed to live with his father if anyone knew what this place was really like.
Seamus Finn and his son Naoise lived in a poor area in New York. Naoise hated his first name and had made sure that everyone called him by his surname. He wasn't physically very strong, but he had asharp tongue and he was smart, unlike many others of his age.
But that didn't help him in school.
Finn wasn't book wise and his smartness didn't help him in solving mathematical problems or learning a new language. He spoke only English, they had moved from Ireland when he had been too young to speak well that Celtic language called Gaelic. His father didn't like that at all, he thought his son should have been able to speak his own mother language.
Hah, he didn't even know his mother so why to bother?
Finn returned to his book listeningto his father's snoring and sat down. He looked at his drawing and the failed homework for a while before frowning, threw the book on the floor and went to get his jacket.
He had better things to do than this.
Finn rubbed his temples and tried to make the memories go away. Despite that that the times when father had been silent were the best times of his childhood he didn't want to remember anything. Thinking about those things made him remember everything more clearly and that was something he didn't want.
He swallowed.
He knew he had to come up with something, but what? The most important thing was of course to make sure no one ever found out he and Black were related. He had decided that in the early beginning of this nightmare.
But what after that?
He knew the truth himself, even if no one else found out could he continue on with his life as if nothing had happened? Could he face Black and Chan and the others like before? Could he do it?
With a sigh he leaned back in his uncomfortable chair. He had returned home after meeting Black in the bar, he most certainly didn't want to see the man's face. At least not his eyes.
It was funny. Why hadn't he ever noticed that Black had the exactly same eyes than his - their, Finn reminded himself bitterly - mother? Beautiful green eyes and so soft that you almost wanted to drown in them.
His father had kept all pictures of his ex-wife and treasured them like they were the most valuable thing in the world. Finn had been allowed to view them too and in them he had seen a beautiful woman whose long red hair and green eyes must have charmed many men in the past.
Most of the pictures alsofeatured his father, who had once been young and slim, his face had been happy with no scars left by drinking and fighting. But his favourite pictures had been the ones that had his younger self in them. He had been very little in them, merely a baby in most and in some he had just learned to walk. He had liked these pictures, in them his mother held him and sometimes his father was there too. The pictures had seemed to be from another world and Finn didn't remember had he ever thought they held any truth.
He wondered what his life would have been like without Black's father?
Finn shook his head, it wasn't important why his parents had divorced. But why hadn't his mother taken him with her, ever visited or even sent a card? It confused him.Or maybe 'confuse' was a wrong word, he was totally disturbed by it.
And hurt.
He frowned. He hadn't thought about it in years, but had managed to hide all nasty memories and hurt feelings somewhere inside him. And there they would still have been there if that stupid Black hadn't taken part in that stupid programme!
He hit his fist against the table with a quiet thud.
He was in the first square again, what was he going to do?
"Hey Finn, you all right?"
He flinched and turned to look behind him where Chow and Ratso stood watching him. Ratso wore a worried expression on his face, Finn couldn't really say anything about Chow because of the man's orange glasses. He was probably worried too, he was always worried about something.
He flashed them a smile that was supposed to be reassuring.
"Heh, sure dude. What could bother me?" he asked.
Chow shrugged.
"I don't know, you've been acting all weird after that TV-show," he said.
Ratso nodded.
"Yeah, you aren't usually like this," he added.
"Well, I have been in a sour mood lately. A friend of mine told me that my team managed to score, but they still lost. You know how much football means to me, I am probably going to be gloomy for a while," Finn said after quick thinking.
"Uhhuh," Ratso said watching him with doubt. Chow didn't buy this story at all, but didn't mouth his suspicions. He peered at his friend over his glasses and Finn knew Chow didn't believe him.
He also knew that Chow would do anything to find out what was going on.
Chow, another new name on the list of people who were never allowed to find out.
Captain Black sat behind his desk and went through some reports his agents had sent. It was a day since he and Jackie had had fun like they had used to. Black couldn't even remember anymore when he had last time seen Jackie drinking that much and it really amused him.
Nowadays Jackie was so responsible. It wasn't a bad thing, Black had to admit that he too had grown out from his "Let's-dance-Riverdance-on-the-bar-table-wearing-only-our-underpants!" phase, but Jackie had over done the whole thing. Maybe it was because he was now the guardian of an eleven-year-old girl and had to be a good influence on her.
They had been out so late that Jackie had slept in the Section 13 instead of returning home. He had of course phoned Uncle so that no one got worried, but despite that Jade had rushed there the first thing in the morning to greet her uncle.
Black still smiled as he remembered how Jackie had explained his headache by telling that they had been attacked by a group of shady crooks who had managed to surprise them. It wasn't that unlikely. It happened all the time in the life of Jackie Chan.
Jade had of course thought it was cool and demanded them to count her in when the attackers came back.
He yawned and tried to concentrate on the report that told what Section 7 had been up to lately. It wasn't actually his business, but the heads of all Sections followed each other's doings very carefully to see if someone was getting too arrogant or involved in shady business.
Suddenly the door of his office was opened and a muscular man dressed in a grey shirt, short black jacket and dark trousers stepped in. He had black hair that was already getting grey from his temples, piercing blue eyes and tanned face.
"Harris," Black said clearly surprised.
"Black," Harris greeted with a nod.
Arnold Harris was the head of Section 4 and one of the few that got along with Black. They couldn't be described as friends because their relationship wasn't that deep, but they weren't on each other's throats all the time like those who led Sections 12 and 5.
But what was Harris doing here? Section 4 took care of Las Vegas where Black had worked before being promoted to Section 13.
"A surprise to see you here," he said offering his hand and the older man shook it.
"I didn't come to just pay a visit, I have serious news," Harris said getting to the point. He had never liked talking and always said only what was necessary.
Black knew immediately that something was going on.
"What is it?" he asked seriously momentarily forgetting that Bennett hadn't contacted him at all. He knew that Harris would have never bothered to come here without a very good reason.
Harris sat in a chair in front of Black and crossed his legs.
"Jay Flick is here," he said.
Black blinked.
"Jay Flick? In San Francisco?" he asked then.
"Didn't I just say that?"
"What is he doing here? Isn't his organisation in Las Vegas?" Black asked dodging the question of his colleague. Harris nodded.
"It is, but we are certain that he and few of his toughest goons have come to San Francisco. We don't know why though, maybe here is something that is valuable to him. Or maybe he wants to spread his power," he said.
"San Francisco is the area of the Dark Hand. Why would Flick want to come here? Except if his own territory was threatened by someone else."
"And it is. New groups are forming all the time and the old have to fight for their power. It is actually a miracle that no one has tried to overthrow the Dark Hand already," Harris said. Then he snorted.
"Maybe they don't want to defy a certain Captain," he added then. It was a rare compliment from someone like him who never praised anyone. On the other hand, Black had been his student and learned much from him.
"So this is important enough for you to come and tell it personally instead of just sending a message?" Black asked. He didn't like this, his life was already filled with work and he didn't want to get involved with two criminal organisations instead of just one.
Besides, how would he have enough time for Naoise if he had to work all the time?
Harris snorted.
"You know Jay Flick has always been my main target. He has just escaped from prison just to find out that he has lost most of his territory, reputation and men," he said and Black could almost swear that there was a slight ring of guilt in Harris' voice.
But why would that be? He decided to forget the whole idea.
"So he is trying to overthrow the Dark Hand now when Valmont is weak too," he guessed.
"Precisely. I don't know what you did Black, but it sure caused a lot of troublefor that English snake," Harris said.
Black frowned slightly. Harris sure was in a talkative mood today.
"Actually a friend of mine did everything. His name is Jackie Chan and he ruined Valmont's plans faster than anyone else could have. If someone here will catch Jay Flick, it will be him," Black explained. He knew he could never tell Harris the truth about Shendu and other demons so he hoped they wouldn't discuss this matter anymore.
Harris nodded and seemed interested.
"Really? He must besome of a man then. And I hope you are right. I don't like it that Jay Flick is on the loose," he said and Black believed that.
Arnold Harris and Jay Flick had been fighting with each other as long as he had been in the picture. No matter what Flick was up to Harris always wanted to be there making sure that everything went fine. He had chased him for over ten years and sometimes Black thought Harris was obsessed with Flick.
The hatred he feltfor the crime lord was much stronger than what Black felt against his own nemesis Valmont. He was sure that Harris wasn't here to just inform him, the man wanted to send Jay Flick back where he belonged.
Personally.
... after the court's decision Mr. Evans didn't want to give a comment or let a picture of himself be taken. He assured that he will complain, but according to the judge he will never win. Mrs. Evans, who is pleased with the result, agrees and...
Greg Bennett shook his head a bit while going through old news articles that were at least somehow connected to custody battles. But this article couldn't be what he was looking for. Mrs. Evans was black and born in America. The parents of this mysterious Naoise were Irish, so Bennett started to read the next article.
In the beginning his mission had seemed easy, but then Black had told him that the only thing he knew about his brother was the first name and things had got complicated. Bennett had once been a cop, but had soon become a private detective and he was fascinated by this mystery.
Why hadn't Augustus Black never been told the old surname of his mother? Why was Naoise and everything else of her past so carefully hidden? Bennett was sure there was more to this thanmet the eye and he desired to find it out.
It would have been so easy if Angela Black had still been alive, but she had died five years ago, two years after her husband Thomas. He had probably lost the only peoplewho knew the truth of this and it really disturbed Bennett.
So all he could do was to go through old news articles that he had found in a library in New York. No one had said that New York was the place where to look for, but something told him he had to start there. Of course it could be that Black had remembered that his mother had got many letters from there, but Bennett preferred to think that it was his inner detective that told him what to do.
... today the court has made the decision of the custody battle of the Finn family. The couple got divorced last June when Angela Finn wanted it. Though the law is usually on the mother's side the child - a four-year-old son Naoise - was given to the father due to Mrs. Finn's heavy use of alcohol...
Bennett frowned.
He had clearly found what he had been looking for, but it wasn't what he had expected. He read the short article quickly and switched off the computer.
Strange.
According to the article Angela Finn had been a very unstable person who had had a bad alcohol problem. Bennett was sure that if that was the truth Black would have told it, but the man had said that his mother had been a very honourable woman.
He rubbed his cheek as he always did when he was confused.
Oh well, at least he had found out Naoise's surname, if he even used it anymore. He decided he would look for more articles concerning the Finn family and try to find out something else.
Like where they had lived.
To be continued...