Jake McCarty was burning the midnight oil. Captain Dante had not reassigned the caseload that he had shared with Pezzini, even though she was in the hospital. Normally a rookie like he was supposed to be would not have been left alone to work, especially homicides.
When Jake had objected to the deviation from policy, Dante had told him, "You've been doing all the work anyway. Don't think I don't notice what goes on in my own house. Pezzini's been shluffing most of this stuff off on you and getting the credit for your work. I want to see you get the recognition you deserve."
As idiot rookie-boy, Jake had nodded and thanked his captain for his faith. Inside, McCarty had felt a grudging respect for Dante's manipulations. Oh, not the flattery, although that had been a nice touch, but for the inevitable frustration Jake would feel as he tried to keep up with the workload. That frustration would turn into resentment of Pezzini with very little guidance, and Bruno was lending a helping hand in that department.
Every night the captain made a point to stop by his desk to do so, and tonight was no exception. Dante walked into the small office, his sleeves rolled up and his collar undone. His jacket was slung across his shoulder, giving the whole visit a casual feel. "How's the Venner case coming?"
"I don't know Captain. Maybe you should give the case to one of the other guys. I've hit a brick wall here." Jake sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand to telegraph just how tired he was.
"You're working too hard. Come on; let's go to Cherry's and grab a beer." Dante leaned a hip on the paper-strewn desk.
"Sounds good," McCarty pushed his chair back and stood.
Jake could feel that old familiar jangling of nerves. Was his cover blown somehow, or was Dante still feeling him out for membership into the White Bulls? After reading the file Christine had given him, McCarty knew his captain was very high in the 'herd'. How high he could not guess, but he hoped to find out.
They didn't go far. The bar, favored by a particular contingent of off-duty officers, was a mere two blocks away. The weather was nippy, but not harsh enough to warrant driving, so the two walked in companionable silence.
Cherry's was a small pub, tucked into the corner space of a brick and wood building that looked like it had been built during the latter part of the 1800's. The mortar had been patched over the years, but the separating brickwork just added to its picturesque façade.
McCarty pushed open the wood and leaded glass door, wondering how many of the cops inside were Bulls. Once inside the dimly lit pub, he began to think that all of them were. The place was not full, but there were a great many more cops present than anyone would expect, given that it was a Tuesday night.
A chill shot down his spine as he registered the numbers and their relative quiet. Instead of the boisterous noise of cops letting off steam, the place was filled with the soft murmurs of private conversations. He could not hesitate, nor go back, however much he wanted to. Dante had not given him any reason to think this was anything but a friendly drink, so rookie boy would have to walk into the lion's den with a smile.
Even if he felt like he'd been slathered in steak sauce.
Dante led him to a small table near the back. A waitress appeared as soon as they were seated, two glasses of beer already on her tray. She deposited them with a grin for Dante and a wink to Jake, and then sashayed back to the bar.
Playing the part, Jake leaned back and watched her go with an appreciative smile on his face. It was a nice view, but not one he personally would have been distracted by. A cute ass did not come before business, unless it was business. Once McCarty felt that he had looked long enough, he turned his attention back to Dante. "She's pretty hot."
"I think she likes you." Bruno leaned back with a grin.
"Yeah? Too bad I've got no time to take her out. Man, my personal life is nonexistent these days." Jake took a swig of his beer and leaned forward confidentially, "You know what kills me? I spend all this time doing paperwork, and the perp walked hours before I will finish filing. Sometimes I feel like the one being punished, ya know?"
"We've all been there, the sacrifices, the long hours, the danger, and for what? The people want justice, but they don't want to be bothered with taking care of the folks taking care of them." Dante shook his head. "There are a lot of good cops in this unit, family men, risking their lives every day. And for what? Huh? A couple thousand dollars a year? You can't send your kid to community college on the money that we make."
"You got a solution for that?" Jake felt his pulse quicken. Finally, finally, they were taking the bait. His patience was about to pay off.
"You ever hear of the Praetorian Guard?" Dante asked.
"Roman soldiers, right? Some kinda elite fighters?" Oh McCarty knew all right, he was fascinated by the achievements of the Roman military, but rookie boy's idea of ancient history was Jan and Dean.
"They were the hand-picked bodyguards of the Caesars, but eventually they became so powerful that they could overthrow the Caesars if they felt it was right. Now, could you imagine belonging to a unit like that?" Bruno smiled and rolled the base of his beer in a loose circle on the table.
"Big responsibility," Jake heaved a breath as if contemplating it.
"We already shoulder that responsibility, whether you know it or not. What I'm suggesting is... We embrace it." The captain leaned forward now, the intensity in his eyes pulling at McCarty, who rubs his face. He appears discomfited by the direction the conversation is taking.
"Maybe I shouldn't be drinking, considering how much sleep I HAVEN'T gotten lately.. Could you be a little more specific?"
Dante knocks back his beer and sets it off to the side. "This is a one-time-only invitation to join a group of policemen who understand the gravity of their job and who reap the harvest fairly."
"You mean you're vigilan...." Jake pauses as the waitress comes to the table with two more beers. She waits while he knocks back the last of his glass and takes it with a flirty smile. The blonde gives her a smile back, "Thanks."
Bruno waited until the waitress was out of earshot once more before continuing. He had a curl to his lip as if he'd tasted something bad. "No. Sara Pezzini's a vigilante. She's a solo act."
"What have you got against Sara anyway?" Jake asked, eager to see if his theories were close.
"Well, Pezzini and me, we go way back. I mean, actually her dad and I go way back. Didn't have the talent to do the job and rise, so he stuck his nose up everybody's ass all the time."
"That's not Sara's fault." McCarty kept his face earnest, even as the little voice in the back of his head began to gloat. Yep, old man Pezzini must have been hell on wheels.
"She's got the gene, though. I can smell it." Bruno leaned back, disgust written all over his face.
"Whatever." The response was ignorant surfer at its best.
"Whatever nothing. That prick shot my partner." Dante leaned forward again, old anger pushing him into Jake's space to make his point.
"What?" McCarty's eyebrows went up in shock.
"Jim Pezzini got hooked on a hooker who happened to be a favorite of a guy I was riding with." Dante's eyes were flashing and his hands started moving for punctuation.
"Get out." Jake leaned back, projecting more shock.
"Yeah, it was one of those ... uh ... lover's quarrels, you know? A real romantic triangle, and on a vice raid, Jim Pezzini put one right between Ralph's eyes. The Review Board whitewashed it as ... uh ... an accident." The last was heavy with sarcasm.
"Ok, but persecuting Sara doesn't ..." McCarty started to say, glad that his cover was supposed to be so gullible. This was such a pile of crap. The captain cut him off before he could get very far into his defense.
"You know what? I really admire your ... uh ... loyalty, McCarty. I really do. Even if it is misplaced," Bruno's tone implied dire things for an overly trusting Jake in the hands of Sara Pezzini.
"I can take care of myself." McCarty drew himself up in his chair as if resenting the implication.
"I know you can." Bruno paused meaningfully, "So could Danny Woo."
For a long minute silence reigned at their little table. The muted conversations around them were like the crashing of waves on a distant shore. McCarty absorbed the implications and felt his gut twist. How many men had Dante corrupted with his insidious bits of truth and innuendo? The desire to hang the captain out to dry rose up inside him, yet he could not think of anything in character that would redirect the conversation toward the White Bulls without tipping his hand.
Bruno waited until he thought he had made his point, and then continued, "But we protect each other."
Dante reached into his pocket, without breaking eye contact, and pulled out something small. His fist was closed around it, hiding the object from view. He held his closed fist up slightly, pulling Jake's eyes from his. Once Bruno was certain the young detective was looking at his hand, he sets the bullet on the table.
Jake picks up the bullet, not sure where the captain is going with this, ".45 Magnum. I use a 9 mil."
"Look closer." Dante smiled indulgently, making a shooing gesture with his hand.
McCarty raises confused eyes to the older man for a moment, then does as he's told. He turns the bullet in his hand and sees that it is engraved. A thrill of excitement shoots through him for it's, "A bull."
"It's our totem, our talisman. We call ourselves the White Bulls." Dante looks proud at the statement.
This was like Christmas. But Jake needed to continue to play stupid, not like the shark that had scented blood in the water that he was. "Why a bull?"
"You know what the bull symbolizes?
"Power, masculinity ... manure?" McCarty laughed at the last part, hoping the captain would laugh with him. It would show that they both were at ease with the situation, as well as let off some of the tension.
Dante leaned back and laughed with Jake, his posture relaxing as he did so. "Yeah, you could say that. So would my ex-wife."
"So how's it work?" McCarty asked as he rolled the bullet in his hand. It was a bold move on his part, but hopefully it would pay off. He needed more than a secret society name. That would never hold up in court.
"When someone is obviously guilty and the system can't be trusted to administer justice, we use one of these bullets. Now, if you ever find a casing like this at a murder scene, just walk away. And if there's fruit to harvest, we take it. We watch each others' backs." Dante made it sound so noble, as if they weren't talking about playing judge, jury, and executioner.
"Damn." Jake said softly.
Dante just nodded sagely and said, "Yeah."
"The White Bulls huh. Seems pretty damn hard-core, risking everything for your ideals like that. Not a lot of people would do that." Jake invited Bruno to tell him more.
"Not just ideals, Jake. What we risk everything for is people," The captain seemed very firm on that point, but didn't give away anything else.
"That's very noble." McCarty tried again. A little ego stroking usually worked wonders in this kind of interrogation. People love to talk about how smart or clever they are.
"Nah, not really, considering the first people we take care of is each other." Bruno shrugged and took another swig from his bottle of beer.
Crap. Looks like it's time for some leading questions. "So you ... what? Skim the first count at a robbery? Cop some drugs? A little protection here, a little graft there?"
"Jake, what do you think happens to stolen money that we recover? Say, you know, drug money ... After a trial?" Dante said patiently, as if to a particularly dense student.
"I never thought about it." Now it was Jake's turn to shrug, even though he knew perfectly well what he was going to hear. He'd heard it before, from more than one corrupt official.
"It gets destroyed. Incinerated. Now why shouldn't it keep my dad out of a home or send your kid to NYU? Huh? Now, you wanna call that stealing? I don't." The fire was back in Dante's voice. He felt very strongly about this waste.
"What do you call it?" Jake fired back, not wanting to seem to eager a convert, but wanting the captain to know he was not unsympathetic.
"Justice. Balancing the scales." Dante brought his hands up in illustration of the basic inequity of the situation as it stood. "Why shouldn't we have it instead of destroying the money? Why should all those punks have money for breaking the law and those who were to enforce it had none? What do they do with it anyway? I'll tell you, they spend it on drugs, whores, tricked out cars and gold teeth. Oh yeah, and firepower. The same weapons you will be on the wrong end of every day of your life."
"Tell me about it." Jake twitched. That was something that bothered him, no matter which persona he was that day. The average cop was outgunned on the street, with automatics and worse so very easy to get on the black market.
"Listen Jake, this invitation is offered to you one time and one time only. Are you in?" Dante asked.
"And what if I say no?" Jake asked, mostly for clarification. No way was he going to turn this down. He was going to break these self-righteous bastards, and they were going to help him do it.
"Well, we'll both forget this conversation ever took place." Dante's voice hardened.
"That sounds like a threat." Jake leaned back, hoping he hadn't overplayed his hand. He hadn't thought the captain was that defensive?
"We never threaten. We have a code and we never break it."
Well, that could be taken a couple of ways. Best to move along and leave that comment alone. Jake settled for a more neutral question, "How was I chosen?"
"Very carefully. We never invite anyone to join who doesn't accept." Dante shrugged, a secret smile crossing his face. He gestures to the bar, where the waitress is rolling silverware. Once he has her attention, he rubs two fingers together. She nods and walks over, pulling their tab out of the short apron she's wearing.
Dante and Jake both pull money out of their wallet at the same time. The captain puts a hand over his and says, "No, no, no. It's on me."
"Thanks. It's been a hell of a day." Jake hesitates with the bill in his hand, then puts it away. If he drops the bill, he's declaring his independence. As much as he hates letting this slime pay for anything of his, McCarty knows he needs to for the charade.
"Yeah, a life changer," Dante agrees with a knowing smile as he watches Jake put his money away.
"How long do I have ... to decide whether to come to your party?" Jake says, conscious of the waitress, who might still be within earshot.
"Well, the samurai say a decision should be made in seven heartbeats. We're going to give you a little longer, but not much." Dante knows he's got McCarty. He can let the boy have his illusion of choice. In the end, he will come to the Bulls. Bruno can see it in his face. Indeed, Jake's next question proves it.
"If I agree, then what?"
"Well, every good thing has its price. There would be an initiation of sorts. A way for you to outwardly display the change that has taken place inside you, kind of a baptism." Dante lays a brotherly hand on McCarty's shoulder.
"By fire?" Jake gives his captain a sharp look.
Dante leaned closer, this part was for McCarty's ears only, "We'll discuss it when you ... uh .. when you accept. But I'll tell you one thing. Your price of admission will ... uh ... concern Sara Pezzini."
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A/N: I know it's been a while. Have I complained that it's hard for me to get a handle on Jake? Thank you for your reviews, please keep them coming. It makes all the frustration and lost sleep worthwhile.