Disclaimer: Everything Law & Order related belongs to Dick Wolf and company, as in the show idea and known characters. But I do own the abstract created characters and plot line.
A/N: The Firewater Bar and Billiard Hall are all mine! Also, I don't think there is a New York Chronicle…I just made it up…if there is, not copyright infringement meant.
SVU Lover4ever: Thanks! Your support has been so meaningful during this. And thank you so much for taking the time to review.
Wolfwood11: Awwww! Thanks dude! Gave me a little ego boost! Thanks so much or reviewing.
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"Are you glad Cragen ordered us not to go?" Andrew asked Nadia as he gripped the steering wheel of the unmarked a block from the partially burned Firewater Bar and Billiard Hall.
"He did it because were the rookies. I had an unauthorized conversation with her and I became attached to Esha Bhaskar." Nadia replied glumly as she looked out her window, seeing pass the flowing rain streaks on the glass.
"Well, true about the rookie thing and the conversation. But I don't know that I could look into more of those faces…subjected to such…horrors." Andrew answered as the turn signal clicked off.
"Andy, why are you in Special Victims?" She asked turning to him.
He shrugged some.
"I know your, disturbed by this work. I know I am. It makes you uncomfortable the people we work with. But you seem closed to me a lot of times. I know were not the best of friends and we're hardly partners, not even beyond the partner 'honeymoon' yet…but I'm here, man. I'm your partner." Nadia added.
"Thanks, I'm just not an opened person. But we'll get pass it," he lied, "I didn't ask for this transfer. Its just difficult for me to understand…that such monsters exist out there." He answered continuality lying.
I am the biggest hypocrite in the world. I'm a fucking hitman and I'm bitching about monsters and preaching about what ifs that will never happen.
"Yeah, I know were you're coming from." She looked away again.
No you don't. You have no idea.
He pulled up the Firewater Bar and Billiard Hall, next to a fire truck. The fire was out but the building still smoldered.
Andrew threw it in park feeling a slight lurch and fumbled for the keys in the ignition. Truth be told he'd really rather be storming the slave houses then viewing the brunt corpse of Nick Hebel.
Nadia stepped out popping the umbrella open, walking carefully on the slick pavement to the driver's side.
Her hair frizzing again in the harsh weather, she gave up on any kind of order.
Andrew stepped out taking the umbrella from her, being an inch or so taller then her and headed for the crime scene.
"Sands and Gage?" The officer in charge gestured to the two huddled beneath the umbrella.
They nodded stepping under the overhang that survived the fire.
"Lieutenant Dan Hart. This is Chief Arnolds." Dan looked over to the Fire Chief still in full fire dress.
"Lieutenant. Chief." Nadia addressed them both feeling self-conscious about her appearance.
"We found the forced entry and cause of the fire." Dan started leading them under the damaged threshold.
"She entered though a skylight in the far end of the pool hall. Made quite an entrance too." He pointed to the broken skylight amongst the charred pool tables. Rain slowly drizzling in from the shattered razor-sharp angles.
"It was a few hours after closing time, he was the only one here. Fire started from a vintage Zippo placed on the bar." Arnolds picked up were Dan left off.
The two detectives avoided the patches of rain pouring in from spots damaged in the ceiling as they eyed the nearly destroyed bar. Their eyes darted to what Andrew had been dreading; the body.
A white sheet had been pulled up and over what they knew to be a charred corpse, tied to a ceiling brace that extended down into the bar.
"That's all we've, been able to determine at the moment. So we'll leave you to your own vices." Dan interjected pulling the rookies from their focus on the damp white sheet.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks, both of you." Andrew replied as Nadia pulled the umbrella shut, but didn't shake it.
The Fire Chief and Lieutenant nodded taking their leave, crunching over various bits of charcoaled benches, bar stools and busted alcohol bottles, each one turned into an explosive as the fire grew.
Nadia slipped the umbrella loop over her wrist as she started to investigate the scene, the body her first checkpoint.
The Firewater Bar and Billiard Hall smelled of smoke and grit. The air had a taste of wet ash that would cling to their pours and clothing for the rest of the day, giving them a tramp look until they would have the opportunity to bathe.
Rain pattered softy in miscellaneous areas of the bar, creating a sorrowful soundtrack as Nadia pulled on the blue latex gloves she carried in her pocket and handed a pair to Andrew.
She handed him the umbrella and carefully she peeled back the white sheet plastered to the flesh burnt body.
A gasp of disgust escaped her lips as some bits of skin came off with the sheet, creating a soft tearing sound she was able to hear over the rain.
The scent of burned flesh floated into her nostrils forcing her to lean back some. She gently removed the sheet all the away, allowing it to rest along the collapsing bar, covering the source of the fire and shattered bit of glass.
Andrew had moved around the bar, eyeing the destruction, broken bottles everywhere, from cheap domestics to exotic imports.
"She must have shattered every bottle in the place, perfect for a bonfire." Andrew observed, avoiding the body.
"Poured it all on the bar and him after she tied him to the brace." Nadia picked up his trail, glancing at the binds around his wrist, "She used extension cords. Most likely his."
"There's alcohol down here too. Lots of it." Andrew called as he entered the partially burned pool hall, investigating the shattered skylight above one the pool tables. Noting the rain coming in from the gaping hole, ruining the red felt and damaging the wooden components as well.
Upon closer inspection he saw two severe footprints, both planted side by side on the red felt. He looked up to the high skylight, Since when do you crash through skylights? What happened to the silent stealth assassin?
Nadia looked into the burned face of Nick Hebel. His eyes burned to almost gray, but his blue irises still twinkled some, giving Nadia a chill. His lips had curled up like dead rose petals revealing scorched black—once pearl white—teeth.
His tongue remained, but was a blackened thatch of skin. Nose reduced to sunken holes in his skull and the flesh surrounding parched to a fragile ebony, peppered with Caucasian flecks of original color.
The hair that was a blonde had shifted to a crisp mat of black; Nadia timidly touched some at his temple, watching it crumble at her touch and disappear in the air.
Most of his clothing had been seared off by the flames, revealing chunks of missing flesh and dry skin stretched like drum flaps on the blackened bone.
One leg bone had been severely snapped, the other had bits of shimmering glaze grooved into the stretched skin and bone.
It was of a substance she had never seen. She leaned in trying to get a better look, then realized it was pieces of glass reheated into his skin.
She racked her brain, trying to remember the melting point for glass; it was hot though, very, very hot.
She scanned the room looking for the calling card, her eyes darting about until her own eyes caught her reflection in the bar mirror.
"ITS JUST BUSSINESS"
Reflected on the partially heat shattered mirror, the blood had turned to a black from the fire.
"We're not going to stop her." Nadia whispered hopelessly at her own distorted reflection, just as the CSU team arrived.
"Mind the glass, all of you." She cautioned to the team as she pulled the sheet back over Nick Hebel.
They were done here, "Ready to go?" She called to Andrew who was purposely killing time in the pool hall so he wouldn't have to look at Nick's body.
"Yeah," he called walking up the short steps, preparing to open the umbrella again.
"You ok, Andy." She whispered stepping under the umbrella.
"Yeah, I just have some ash grit in my eye." He replied rubbing at the puffy eye, which was sort of true. What was truer was that those few tears would be the only ones he would shed for Nick Hebel.
This has to end. And I'm going to have to do it. I'm sending you to hell, Cate Monty. Hope your bags are packed.
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"Drop the fuckin' knife, now!" Fin howled at the slave house guard with thick dreadlocks who clutched the small filthy girl who was wailing with fear. Digging her dirty nails into his hairy forearm while he shoved the large blade against her dirt ringed neck.
"Fuck you!" He screamed at Fin, holding the squirming child as a shield.
"Just drop the knife now. Think about it, man. You've got nowhere to go, just drop the knife and let her go." Fin demanded leveling his Glock at the scrambled guard.
"Hell no! I let her go and you'll cap me on site!" He screamed at Fin raising back some to gain a better hold the furiously scared girl.
"No we won't. Just do as we said and lie down on the floor." John attempted to calm him some, all the while leveling his own Glock trying to get a better shot.
"Lairs! You're all a bunch of fuckin' lairs! All cops are lairs! Pricks and liars!" He screamed brandishing the knife tighter.
In a jolt of fear at the sharpened blade the girl wailed louder, twisting and finally giving John and Fin a clear shot.
They both took it.
They would never know who fired first but they both struck the guard in the head. Fin swept in quickly, dropping his Glock and grabbing the slowly collapsing corpse's wrist to keep him from silting the girl's throat, his first act in death.
He wasn't fast enough; a small fissure appeared at her hollow, spewing red.
John dropped his Glock too, stepping in pressed his hand against the traumatized girls' throat, to stanch the bleeding.
Fin cursed himself for not being fast enough and ripped his jacket off, slipping it under John's hand.
"Your going to be fine, just don't speak, ok." John soothed to the petrified girl, who nodded trying not to sniffle as John swept her up in her arms and quickly exited the room headed for one of the many ambulances.
Fin was still blaming himself for the girl's injury as he gathered up his Glock and John's. Ignoring the dead body, someone else would pick it up later and moving out into the chaos of screaming children and other SWAT operatives and multiple SVU officers all coordinating together on the fourth and final slave house located on the outskirts of the city.
Liberating children and even some adults and arresting those that were stationed as guards in the house.
Fin re-holstered his firearm and shoved John's firearm in the front waistband of his slacks, moving slowly out toward the flashing lights of multiple squad cars, ambulances and fire trucks and two SWAT assault vehicles.
The rain was coming down in swift sheets now.
Fin ignored the bitter rain as he walked to his and John's unmarked. The sweep of the building was complete now; it would be up to the SWAT team to finish it.
Nearby Olivia screamed with primal harshness as she slammed an uncooperative handcuffed guard against the hood of her unmarked, causing it lurch and send up a spray of water in the air.
Fin glanced making sure she had things under control as she jerked him back and shoved him hard into the back to the unmarked; Elliot slammed the door and mouthed the words if she was ok. She nodded and Fin continued to walk, and saw John appear for the first time in his direction, walking through the rain, holding his soiled jacket.
John reached their unmarked first and slipped in, soaking the drivers seat, but he didn't care.
Fin arrived a few seconds later taking his seat too.
"Ya'll gonna fuck-up the seats. Taxpayers pay for that, pigs." One of the handcuffed guards reminded them from behind the black grate.
"Shut-the hell-up." Fin muttered reaching for a towel placed on the dash, drying his face.
"You shut-the hell-up, pig!" He replied shifting and kicking the black grate. The vehicle lurched heavily.
"Motherfucker, don't make me comeback their and slam your ass." Fin hissed glancing at the review mirror.
"Police brutality!" He wailed causing the other three in the vehicle to cringe.
The sound of a kick could be heard, "What was that for!" He hissed in the backseat causing John and Fin to glance back.
"Just shut up you, stupid fuck. Fucking fiend. Can't believe I got pinched because you were to high remember how to take the safety of your piece. Dumb-ass." The female guard huffed looking back out to the rain.
"Bitch."
"Prick."
They finally quieted down as the other vehicles slowly started to exit the area. The radio clicked with static and other commands.
"How's the girl?" Fin asked as John handed him his rain drenched and blood soiled jacket.
"Their taking her to St. Marks, with all the others. They didn't think the main artery was hit." John replied twisting the ignition as the car windows' started to fog over from humidly.
"What Cragen say?" He asked returning his Glock to John who muttered thanks as he re-holstered.
"He's heading back after the last sweep and gave us the go-head to head back." John replied backing up in the slowing weather.
"Great, I want to get out of these clothes before I start chaffin'." Fin murmured still thinking about the girl and replaying the scene over and over again in his mind.
Still blaming himself.
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Olivia emerged from the shower with puff of steam and was wrapped in a long terrycloth robe with a towel, wringing her shoulder length hair.
"Feel better?" Elliot asked pulling on a dry shirt from his locker; she shuffled in her cheap flip-fops down to her own locker.
"Yeah, lots. Nice and warm and fresh…sort of." She smiled pulling her locker open, retrieving a clean t-shirt and dark denim jeans. Very casual, but after today she doubted Cragen would care.
"See you up stairs. I refuse to violate my chivalry toward you." He said dramatically looping his belt.
She giggled, "Yeah, your chivalry."
He smiled and left the locker-room to let her dress in private.
After she dressed she made the short journey back up to the massive squad room to see Nadia and Andrew still in the same clothing with bits of grit caught in their pours and both smelled of bonfire, but the day was nearly over so it didn't bother them much.
Elliot was seated at his own desk, filling out paperwork, shuffling sheets aside.
Fin and John both washed also leafing through paperwork reporting on the four slave houses. Both of them would later be evaluated by George Huang about the incident involving the guard they had to shoot in order to save the girl, and deemed sane and well enough to keep working. There would most likely an investigation about it, though.
Another one to add to the pile.
"What do you have on Hebel?" Cragen asked stepping out of his office, freshly showered also.
An exhausted Nadia looked up and reached for her case notes, "Well he was an arsonist, sort of poetic. He's done time in nearly every State. All of his affiliations are Cate's victims, except for his brother, Jon Rice and Lengsfield Philips."
"She tied Hebel up with extension cords, after pounding him. Then she lit the place up Most of the evidence of a fight was destroyed in the fire. Warner said he was burned alive when it happened." She concluded.
"We think he was the one who burned Cate alive, if what she said is true." Andrew added hollowly.
Cragen nodded at the theory, "Bring his brother in."
"He may be next but, what do we bring him in for?" Olivia questioned.
"Tell him he has to identify his brother."
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Two days passed, when the multiple leaks connected to Cate Monty finally reached the media and public.
Information that Cate Monty had escaped from custody and killed two people only a few hours apart.
One the infamous Bohemian radical artist, Anita Boze and it would never be leaked that she herself was actually a murder too; one that had paid her debt to society then changed her name.
Her artwork had doubled in value within hours that her death was announced, even more so the because of the way she was killed. Death by chainsaw, how often does that really happen?
Supporters of Cate Monty turned swiftly against her at this new murder.
Why kill an artist?
The other murder, Nick Hebel, the owner of the Firewater Bar and Billiard Hall. A fixture of the city. She torched one of the good ol' boys of the city and burned a city treasure to the ground.
But she won some of the supporters back. His past as an arsonist was never leaked though, whereas the fact he participated in the sex-trade with the late Kim Ong launched Cate back to heroic status.
Four slave houses in the city where liberated. From a small dingy basement filled with fourteen children to the massive warehouse filled with fifty-two individuals.
Eighty-four individuals in total, each one reported missing by someone somewhere in the world.
This time the ages ranged from the youngest, four to thirty-six as the oldest. Positive publicity for the NYPD, but much of their creditability faded when it was leaked that Cate Monty sent a detective the addresses of the slave houses.
Nadia Sands was reprimanded by Captain Cragen; she would be put on suspended leave with pay for one week after the Cate Monty case was over, for the unauthorized conversation with Cate.
The others that also had unauthorized conversations didn't come forward—Casey and Olivia—mainly because Nadia kept the reprimand to herself.
Then there was the issue of David Hebel. He couldn't be found for two days; an APB was put out for him and turned up nothing.
Cragen wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
It continued to rain and Cate Monty remained silent for two days or they just hadn't found her latest victim, yet.
The Squad wasn't sure which.
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The Thirty-Seventh Day
September 8, 2005 Thursday
David Hebel looked worn and filthy as he stumbled into the sleepy police precinct. Clutching a sopping and incomplete copy of the New York Chronicle and reeking of body odor.
Shuffling up to the brisk account officer who stood at the high desk, shifting papers efficiently.
"I want to talk to these to officers, now." David said dropping the ink damp newspaper on the officer's fresh and tidy forums, causing her to cut a glare his way, then nearly fainted at the awful, tidal wave of body odor and breath almost smelling of mephitis.
The assaulting, natural aromas burned her eyes and nearly made her nose run. It took all of her self-control not to step back, to uphold that mores in society to ignore such distractions.
Officer Teresa Logan knotted her hands together resisting the urge to clamp her nostrils, and envisioned her greatest desire at that moment; burying her nose in a tissue and blowing the smell from her nose.
Concentrating, she forced herself to look down at the grubby pages. The black and white images of Detectives Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler looked back at her, beneath the bold headline, 'MONTY ESCAPES, MURDERS TWO PERSONS'.
"Sir, have you been assaulted?" Teresa asked assuming that since he wanted to speak to Special Victims Detectives.
"No, but I have information regarding," he glanced from side to side then leaned into whispering, "Cate Monty."
She nodded, skeptically, "What is your name, sir?"
Still leaning in, "Hebel, David Hebel."
Teresa nodded again recalling the APB on Hebel. Her eyes fluttered down the printed noticed on her desk, scanning the image of a clean-shaven David Hebel. She looked back at him, it was a match.
"Sir, would you like some coffee while I get the officers you requested?" She asked nearly ecstatic at the prospect of being the officer reporting that Hebel was in the station. Euphoric visions of promotion fluttered in her mind.
"No ma'am, I'm fine." He waved his hand at the offer, leaning on the worn desk; she noted a flash of his inner arm, fading track marks.
Teresa stepped aside, keeping an eye on him and whispered to Officer Romero to make sure that David didn't leave.
She moved swiftly, her keys digging into her thigh while she stepped harshly on the short staircase to the Special Victims squad room.
Searching for the familiar faces and finding neither of them.
"Naidee," she whispered striding up to Nadia Sands's desk, who was clicking away at a laptop and chewing on something.
"Yeah Tessi, what's up?" Nadia glanced up at her, gargling on a pen cap.
"Where's Benson and Stabler?"
"Ugh," she glanced around, "I don't know actually, but you know I'm a detective too." Nadia looked at her with fake puppy eyes.
"Yeah I know, but I need to find them."
"Why?"
Teresa leaned in, sending the obvious message that it was privileged information, "David Hebel just walked into the station five minutes ago looking for them."
Nadia's eyes glazed at the mention of his name, "You didn't let him leave, did you?"
"No, Romero blocking the door."
"Oh 'Brick Wall', eh. Nice move, oh there they are. Elliot, Olivia!" Nadia flagged them over.
"What?" Elliot questioned sensing a cloak and dagger situation.
"Hebel, he's in the front office. He'll only talk to you two." Teresa informed.
"What? We've been crawling through the nastiest shit of this city looking for him and he just shows up!" Olivia's abrupt mood swing drew the attention of everyone in the office, they all stopped to stare.
Including Teresa, Elliot and Nadia who all looked at her with slacked jaws, the revelation of the scene she just made echoed in her mind, embarrassment followed.
She flushed; she sank into the nearest chair, the office returned to its norm.
"Anyway, you might wanna burn some incense, or toss some potpourri in what ever room you're going to talk to him in." Teresa added trying to forget Olivia's odd outburst.
"Why?" Nadia and Elliot asked in unison, Olivia adverted her eyes, still embarrassed.
"Well, er…lets just say he could peel the paint off the walls without even touching them."
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Lord, Teresa was not kidding. Elliot coincided as he and Olivia escorted David to interrogation room.
Everyone in the office noticed the wide breadth and even followed suit as the three passed.
David appeared oblivious to his own odor and walked head held high.
He's damaged his sense of smell, has to be it. Olivia thought catching Moretti out of the corner of her eye, shoving his face behind the manila he was holding. She suppressed the giggle.
"Room two?" Olivia asked getting Elliot's attention.
"What? Yeah room two." He replied on the verge of gasping.
"I'll check it out." She added slipping away and leaving him with David, the reeking bag of flesh.
Olivia stumbled down the corridor gasping like a fish out of water, pulling a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose to rid herself of the smell, popping her ears in the process.
Room two had a frantic John Munch and Nadia Sands, dousing it with artificial scents.
"Well?" They both asked equally curious about how bad it could be.
Olivia could only nod, "I have never, in my entire life ever smelled anything like that before. It's like…it's in my nose now, trapped forever and I can't blow it out! I tried its not working!"
John and Nadia glanced at each other, "Right, well whoever is interviewing," she waved her hands about the interrogation room, "just don't light a match, 'k. Place might explode from all the fumes."
Olivia nodded as the two slipped out taking the aerosol cans with them and heading to the other side of the double mirror.
She found it hard to breath in the room all of the sudden, Too many fumes…
Olivia shifted over to the grated window, fiddled with it a moment and finally managed to pull the pane up a few inches.
The sound of rain filled her ears and slowly the thick atmosphere started to dissipate. Someone pounded against the double mirror and shouted a muffled, "What the hell are you doing?"
It was John's voice, she shrugged and replied, "It is way too thick in here, but you two did a great job."
Moments later Elliot and David were seated on opposite sides of the table, while Olivia hung to the side, arms crossed, playing the fly on the wall.
Elliot situated the white notepad and finally looked up to David, "We've been looking for you for a few days now. I suppose you already know why."
"Yes, but before I start talking I want your promise and that of this station to protect me. I want a cell here, or something." David said crossing his arms to mimic Olivia.
"You haven't done anything, we can't hold you." Elliot replied.
"Can you protect me?"
"Depends, do you think your in danger?"
"Yes."
"Who or what threatens you?"
"I said before, I won't talk until I have your guarantee of safety."
There was a knock at the door, Olivia stepped away leaning out the door as Cragen whispered something to her.
She nodded and closed the door again, "You have your protection." She informed, David smiled.
"I'm here about Cate Monty."
"Right," Elliot nodded.
David drooped his head some, feeling the pressure and magnitude of what he was about to reveal.
"Everything that Cate told you, while she was here and while you interrogated her…its true. All of it's true."
David uncrossed his arms sending Elliot a flash of his inner arm.
"Heroin?" Elliot pointed to the fading track marks.
"Did not you hear me!" David demanded slamming his palms against the metal table, causing the white notepad to jump.
It didn't faze Elliot or Olivia, who still observed from the shadows.
"Yeah, but you're an addict. How do I know what your saying is true?" Elliot said calmly.
"It is. I've been clean since she killed Chris Harris. Now she killed my brother too, I'm next. There's only one other person who was in that house left." David said leaning in.
"Who?"
"Why should I tell you? So you can bring him in to?"
"Protect him from that psycho, yes."
"He can take care of himself. I doubt Cate will ever find him."
"What did you do?"
"What?"
"To Cate. If you were there, what did you do?"
David chewed on his thumb nail, seeking that childhood comfort of his thumb.
"I only raped her once." David said not looking at him.
"Once? You make is sound like it's alright that you only did it even once." Elliot said feeling a soft, boiling rage in his veins.
"Compared to what the others did, yes!" David said venomously, "I was a very different person then and I regret it now. I know it was wrong." David lamented.
"Is that because she's getting around too you next?" Olivia asked cynically from the shadows.
"No." He whispered, "I've hated myself ever since for that night."
"But never had enough guilt to turn yourself in." Olivia hissed.
"You don't understand." He murmured.
"Start from the beginning then. Why kill her children and attempt to kill her?" Elliot questioned going through the motions.
He looked away cringing, "I don't know the specifics of the hit, it was just another job and I was just a drudge, same with Nick. Cate wasn't supposed to live; it was all supposed to look like accident."
"Who did you work for?" Elliot asked scribbling down a few notes.
"I can't say."
"Lengsfield Philips." Olivia perked.
David couldn't hide the shudder, "If Cate doesn't kill me, he will."
"You know that's what I keep hearing that this Philips's guy. He's so powerful and supposedly controls the city, but I've never even heard of the guy." Elliot said abrasively.
David tilted his head some, "He does. He has his fingers in everyone's pie."
"Why frame Cate?"
"Easy target, it wasn't apart of Philip's original plan. So he integrated it. Most of us had some part in the trial. I was the one who removed certain manuscripts. Jack and Chris took care of the bribes. That's all I know." He answered showing remorse.
"I've been seeing her everywhere! I've been living on the streets since Chris died and eating from dumpsters to sacred to go to my apartment. I'll do whatever you want me too; just keep her away from me!" David cracked, breaking down into sobs.
Elliot and Olivia looked at him in pity and realized just how pathetic he really was.
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Oh this is good. David Hebel thought as he sat in a holding cell he insisted on, convinced that Cate would come here eventually and when she did he wanted a barrier between them.
He chewed on the warm fries and sipped at the bottle soda, clean-shaven, showered and dressed in fresh clothing.
It stopped raining but the city had an overcast tone to it, his cell was darker as a result.
He was lost in the freshly and fantastic, yet mediocre food that he didn't hear the footsteps headed to his cell, but did hear the severe sound of the locked being almost raped by its key.
David didn't freeze like a deer in headlights when he saw who stood at the door, instead he pushed himself against the wall of his cell, spilling the bottle and scattering the food.
"He sent you! Ah, shit!" He hissed because he forgot how to scream.
"Shut-up, you stupid fuck. He didn't send me." Andrew Gage replied towering in the bar doorway.
"Swear?"
"Yes. I'm here for other reasons. Why are you here?"
David hesitated, "Cate's coming for me."
"So you sellout and come here."
"I didn't have a choice."
"The hell you didn't. I told you to get the hell out of the city when she nailed Chris."
"I tried. I even contacted everyone like you said. They all brushed it off and now look at them…its hard being a fiend, I keep trying to leave and I couldn't…then I started seeing her…everywhere. I even got hit by a car because of her." He lamented.
"You idiot. You've promised them information and given them more then you should. Why didn't you just eat a bullet?" Andrew demanded crossing his arms.
"Jon, I don't want to die. I'm sacred of death. And I know I'm gonna pay for everything." He wisped at the small tears.
"How beautiful, David Hebel finally found religion." Andrew said sarcastically.
"Fuck you!" He spat, "Maybe you should too! Haven't you thought about Cate coming for you? Maybe she'll rape your ass like she did Jack's!"
The harsh words didn't faze him, "No she won't."
"What makes you so sure!"
Andrew stared at David's crumbled form pressed against the cold cinderblock wall, and unwillingly recalled the first time he met David Hebel.
Andrew was arrested in Monterrey, Mexico and deported back to the states for a bank heist several months prior in the state of California.
Wound up in Washburn Minimum Security Prison in California were he met the Hebel brothers and Christopher Harris.
The four bonded and became close in the prison, even started their own contraband business. Everything went well until Andrew found David unconscious and lying on the shower room floor alone, with his face busted in and had been severely penetrated.
He could still see the water from the showerhead mixing with the blood and swirl into the drain, a pretty pink.
What awful day that was, picking him up and dragging him out from under the showerhead. So vulnerable and track marks for all to see, no longer in his inner arms but also under his toenails.
After that he assigned himself to David, he also being the youngest of the group gave him the mien of being the kid-brother to everyone.
Later he, Chris and Nick found the inmates who attacked David and with a bribe to the appropriate guards; they managed to have some private time with the individuals.
How did he feel now, staring down at David's pathetic body, thin from stress and heroin withdrawal, a crumbled and wreathing mass of self-loathing flesh?
Did he still feel he should protect him? Or use him to lure Monty into the station to end this reign of murder and revenge.
"What makes me sure David…" he trailed off searching for the right words somewhere embedded in the floor of the cell, "Is that I'm going to kill Cate Monty, before she even has a chance to kill me. She won't know what hit her."
(End Chapter Thirteen)
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