Almost there, people! The end is near…Sorry, this chapter has a lot of the movie in in… Have patience with it.

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Chapter 21

Concerning item #5: The Key Around His Neck 15 (continued)

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"Spot!" Griffin called suddenly as Spot stepped out of Cat's school building. "Look!"

Spot looked up. He saw what Griffin was shouting about immediately. On the next street down, Spot caught a glimpse of an even larger parade of strikers. They were all shouting and singing together, waving the same paper in the air that Spot's boy's held in their own hands. They were heading for the strike rally too.

Spot's eyes narrowed in angry determination. Cat was gone. She was getting married and never coming back. He had to leave her behind, though the very thought made his anger increase. He'd have to mourn for her later.

For now he had to focus on the strike. It was all almost over; he just knew it. Brooklyn matters were at hand. Brooklyn came first.

Spot frowned at that thought too. So then why couldn't he step off the last stair?

"Spot, com'on!" Griffin insisted. "If we take this street, we can cut 'em off at the square."

So Spot sighed once more, the fury of it all still strong in him, and painfully stepped off the stair and onto the street. He stuffed the letter in his shirt, and walked on.

"Let's go, then." Spot agreed, and led them away, taking wide, angry steps.

His men followed, but looked at him funny, like Spot had turning into a spider before their very eyes. Again, Griffin spoke for them.

"What's the mattah, Spot?" he said cautiously as he walked alongside of him. "You're different."

"Like how?" Spot said in wonder, though his tone sounded like he couldn't care less.

"Ya seem… sad."

Spot gave Griffin one of his infamous stare-downs, straight in the eye, as they walked on.

"Well, maybe I am. Does it mattah?"

"Well, I just thought," Griffin began. "That she was just another one of your… Do you really like that girl, Spot? The Cat?"

Spot's rage flared again. He glared at Griffin with a glare so cold that Griffin shivered under it.

"Shut up, and just do your job, Griffin," Spot said in a low growl.

There were no further questions after that.

The gang marched as one toward the heat of the strike. Jack's boys were in awe of their rapidly increased numbers. Cheers arose from the Brooklyn boys as Spot whipped out his cane from his belt loop like a sword, and shouted "Brooklyn!" like the rest of them to announce their presence. Spot's fury was still apparent on his face, but his heart fell into a strong determination, as he forced his mind back into the strike.
Spot sifted his way through the cheering crowd, heading straight for Jack. He turned the traitor around and looked him in the eye. Jack's smile disappeared at the sight of Spot. He glared at Jack for several moments, concentrating on reading him even through the noise.

"Ya came back," Spot said accusingly. Jack nodded seriously.

"So did you," he replied. "I'm guessin' ya read the paper."

"Yeah, I read your lousy paper," Spot admitted. "But that ain't the reason I came back."

Spot's harsh face melted into a grin, and Jack let out a breath and grinned as well, laughing and embracing Spot as thanks for his enormous flattery. Sure, it would take a while before Spot trusted Jack the same again, but it was a mistake, and they both knew that. Spot couldn't turn his back to a brother, or he would be a traitor too.

With that, Jack left him to walk toward the middle of the crowd, assuming Spot would follow. Jack grabbed David's little brother and lifted him to his shoulders as they walked, people cheering for Jack like he was a hero.

Spot fell into the excitement, joining the yells with a broad smile. It was going to be over soon. They would win, he was sure of it now.

"Dear me!" Racetrack yelled to Jack. "What have we here?"

Spot looked to where Racetrack was pointing, and saw several cops coming out of The World office building, along with a pompous looking man with long white sideburns. It was more than likely he was here to get negotiators.

"Let me at 'em!" Spot said, trying to shove Jack aside to get to the dirty rat from The World.

"Hey, Spot, no!" Jack shouted grabbing at him.

"Then let me come with you!" Spot held his cane up, hinting strongly for Jack. "I got a thing or two to say to Pulitzer…"

"Naw, your temper's too hot. I'm takin' Dave," Jack said, grabbing the curly-haired boy.

"We gotta play this smart," Jack went on with a smile. "Not be put in jail again."

"Yeah," Spot agreed, patting him on the back understandingly. "We both know what happens when ya get put in jail, ya dirty rotten scabbah."

So Jack took David and left with the bulls. Spot took his boys and waited by the distribution gate, while Race and the other's watched the front door, since they didn't know where Jack would be exiting from. All that was left to do was wait.

It seemed like forever they were up there with Pulitzer, but it was really only about ten to twenty minutes or so. More police were gathered around the gate where Spot waited, on horses and on foot, but Spot ignored them and stared through the bars intently.

Soon he spied David coming out of the back door. Excitement came like a wave, and Spot didn't wait for Jack, but called the others over.

"Hey!" he said, waving them over, side stepping around the police to get to them. "Hey fellahs! They're over here! They're over here!"

They ran back and greeted Dave, who seemed a bit sullen.

"What happened?" Spot insisted, along with about fifteen others around him demanding the same thing. Spot didn't stick around the Mouth for long, and went to Jack.

"What'd they say, huh?" Race said next to him. But Jack and Dave weren't talking. Not a good sign. Jack leaned down to Les, and whispered something in his ear that Spot couldn't make out.

"What?" Spot said, insisted he be let in on this. Jack put Les on his shoulders, lifted him up in the air, and faced the crowd.

"WE BEAT 'EM!" Jack yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

The crowd erupted in victory cheers, everyone with their hands in the air. Spot patted Kid Blink on the back, but otherwise kept his cool. He yelled and cheered with the rest of them, but somehow, though he knew the end of the strike was coming, it didn't seem real. His mind didn't fully digest the fact that they had officially won.

Weasel came out through the crowd, saying "excuse me" to everyone in his way, followed by the Delancey brothers. It took all the self-control Spot could muster not to kill them right then and there. But he knew it was a bad idea, considering that the police were standing right there. So Spot just taunted them as they passed, since they had the displeasure of losing anyway. They ignored him. Spot whispered to Griffin, sending for his boys, then went to follow the Delancey's.

"Hey, get outta the way, outta the way," Spot said, making the others make a path for him.

"Hey, Oscar! Morris!" Spot called, pulling out his slingshot. The brothers turned toward the voice, and found a marble in their faces each.

"OW!" Oscar yelled. "What was that? What do you want, shrimp?"

Spot wasn't afraid in the least. He went right up to them, revenge the only thing on his mind.

"Maybe I'd like your head in a bag for what you did a few years back."

"I remember you…" Morris came up to him next. He was indeed a bit taller than Spot, but it didn't matter. "You're that bratty runt at the Barrenger's bar. Tell me, did everyone make it out of that fire?"

Spot glared, his temper flaring again, but kept his control.

"I ain't mad at ya," Spot said smoothly.

The brothers seemed confused.

"Ya ain't?"

"Naw, I'm very thankful. I wanna let ya know that you're now in my very close circle. In fact, let me introduce ya to some of my friends."

With that, Spot lifted a single hand, and snapped his fingers loudly.

Every one of his Brooklyn boys ran at the Delancey's, and the brothers, seeing as they were suddenly outnumbered, fled with Spot's men close at their heels.

That was the end of the brother's pride, for sure, if not their lives.

Spot turned back to the strike, just in time to see Cheese, Ten-Pin, and all the other Refuge boys came out free from a jail paddy wagon. Then, after a moment, out came Crutchy, hopping off the step happily.

Everyone watched as Crutchy himself slammed the door after the Warden, being put in the jail wagon instead of the children. More cheers came. Crutchy came over and they all patted him on the back. Even Spot gave him a good pat and said:

"Good to have you back, Crutch."

"You won't be seeing much of him anymore," Denton said about the Warden, as he took his seat on the bench inside the jail cart.

"Say 'good-bye, Warden'!"

"Good-bye, Warden!" Spot joined in the shout. They were all-too-happy to say those words.

"Oh, Jack, you oughtta seen it!" Crutchy said excitedly. "He comes stormin' into the Refuge waving his walking stick like a sword, and he's leading in this army of lawyers and cops--"

"Wait wait," Jack said, putting up his hands to stop him. "Who comes stormin' in?"

"You know," Crutchy insisted. "Your friend. Him! Teddy Roosevelt!"

Spot looked over to where he pointed, and sure enough, there was the governor lifting his hat to the crowd. They all stared in amazement together as Denton spoke.

"The Governor's very grateful that you brought this problem to his attention," he said to Jack. "I said you might need a lift somewhere. He'd be happy to oblige. Anywhere you want. And this time, you ride inside."

Spot smirked at that.

"So, could he drop me at the train yards?" Jack said, ignoring it.

"Yeah, if that's what you want."

They followed Jack to the waiting carriage, and ran behind him as he drove off. Spot was glad for him. At least someone was getting their dreams fulfilled…

After Jack turned the corner, gone forever, Spot never felt emptier. There was nothing left. Jack was gone, and so was she…

In this game he was playing, he as king and Brooklyn as his pawns, he found he had lost his queen. The one thing essential for a happy victory. What a crippling loss it was.

But it was the life he had chosen. All along this road he had chosen his own direction. She now walked another path. Their time together was now split. Now he ventured alone.

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If you are thinking this is done, you may be right… But, I suggest you read the first line of the first chapter of this story (not the intro, but the actual chapter). You may find some insight in it.
Signed,

--RedRogue