Chapter 4
"Trustworthy"
Scenery flew like the wind – houses and people a blur when passed by. Cody and Dion were sitting in a taxi cab, riding into the city limits of Metro City. No longer was Metro City the crime capital of the Unites States, but not far from it. The duo just stared out their perspective windows, as Cody hadn't been back in the city for awhile now. Other than the crime rate, nothing much has really changed. Cody could remember that day perfectly, fighting through the streets of this very city to save Jessica. Now he's at it again, but not only do the Mad Gears have his girlfriend, they are after him now as well. The young Filipino, somewhat bored, decided to break the silence.
"So what's the plan?" Dion asked, looking at his partner's expression. Cody heard the question, but hesitated to answer him for a couple of reasons.
"I'll tell you when we get to our destination," he replied simply, once again looking out the window. Dion looked at him strangely, squinting his right eye. Cody knew his partner wouldn't understand the reasoning behind it.
"You can drop us off here," the boxer stated to the driver. "We can walk the rest of the way." The rusted cab hobbled a bit as it slowly pulled over to curbside.
"That's ten bucks even," the driver said in a hoarse tone. He had a scraggly and unshaven appearance, with wavy, black hair. It looked like he had been drinking everyday for the past month or so. Cody and Dion split the bill even and paid the driver. They climbed out of their seats with their bags and closed the doors behind them. The taxi driver drove off, the tires skidding across the pavement.
"Why are we getting off here?" asked Dion, looking around. "Are we meeting someone already?"
"Lesson number one on how to survive in Metro City: never mention what you're doing to anyone who you don't know or trust," the boxer replied matter-of-factly. He hoisted his bag and began walking.
"Oh, sorry," Dion said looking downward, appearing somewhat ashamed of himself. He lifted his bag over his shoulder and started walking to catch up with Cody.
It was a sunny, mid-afternoon day. The sky was as clear as could be, as the duo walked through the neighborhood called Eldon, the middle class section of the city. It was actually a nice-looking area, complete with small bungalows and manicured lawns. A few apartment complexes and condominiums were constructed to invite more people into the neighborhood.
The people went around their daily business. Some were mowing their lawns, while others were barbequing in their backyards. A few kids were even playing out in the front yards. It was hard to imagine that an area like this existed within Metro City. Cody glanced over to Dion, whose head was staring toward the sidewalk, somewhat gloomy.
"You're a retard," the youthful Asian thought. "How is Cody supposed to trust you if you keep making boneheaded mistakes like that? You can't afford Cody to…"
"Hey, don't worry about what happened in the taxi," the ex-hero started, bursting Dion's thought bubble as he continued to walk. "You're just a little green when it comes to conducting yourself around the city. I've lived here my entire life and I learned the hard way what you should and shouldn't do here. You'll catch on eventually; just soak all the information in."
"I know," Dion replied quietly. "It's just that…" Dion suddenly stopped. He could feel a searing pain in his lower left abdomen as he instinctively grasped it with his right hand. It lasted a few seconds before finally fading away.
"Hey, are you alright?" asked Cody. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I…I'll be fine, honest," he answered. Dion regained his composure and started walking. "So, where are we headed?"
"Hmm, doesn't this place look familiar to you?" Cody asked. The young Filipino looked around a bit, but it didn't register anything that he remembered. "We're in your cousin's neighborhood . . . my old neighborhood," the boxer answered himself.
Dion's eyes lit up. He was somewhat surprised that he didn't notice where he was, but then he saw the apartment complex that his cousin lived in.
"Why are we going to my cousin's?" Dion asked, scratching his forehead a bit.
"Your cousin Myrna was my neighbor across the hallway from my apartment. I gave an extra set of keys to her incase I had lost mine. She seemed like a very organized individual. I also had an aquarium going and needed someone to take care of my fish when I was taken into custody. I wished I at least had some time to put my stuff in storage warehouse. I had a lot of things I would like to have kept.
"What kind of things?" asked Dion.
"Not much, some small furniture pieces, books on boxing and the martial arts, paintings and scrolls, not to mention my knife collection," he replied.
"Ah, so that's all your stuff in there," Dion said with enlightenment.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"My cousin's guest bedroom was turned into a storage room of sorts. I guess she moved all your stuff into her apartment so it wouldn't be thrown out when you were evicted. I was wondering who it belonged to, 'cause there was a bunch of cool weapons in there, especially that katana," Dion said enthusiastically.
"My stuff's still there? I thought for sure I lost all those things. I really have to thank her for moving my stuff in, as well as all the things she's done for me," remarked Cody.
"Yeah, um, just to let you know, I've sorta, kinda…practiced with your katana a few times when I visited Myrna about six months ago," Dion stated with a guilty look.
"You unsheathed it!" Cody snapped.
"Y…yeah," he answered, starting to tremble a bit.
"Don't you realize what you've just done?" as he stopped in his tracks. The boxer's face was red with anger as his voice whipped against the young Filipino's face.
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any…" Dion was obviously scared out of his mind. He couldn't even look at Cody's face. The boxer's demeanor soon relaxed.
"You've done nothing. I'm glad someone used it. You need to learn to take a joke once in a while," he said in a normal, casual tone. His face was totally calm, but he really wanted to laugh with the expression he saw on Dion's face.
"That's not funny," Dion poked, rubbing the back of his neck and looking the other way.
"Ha, you should've seen the look on your face. And you said I didn't know how to have fun," Cody replied. "Besides, I like my knives better and speaking of your cousin, here we are."
They stopped in front a ivory stone complex. Le Grand was inscribed on the keystone above the entrance archway.
"I'm sure your cousin will be surprised to see us," Cody stated, as he opened the front door of the building.
There wasn't much to the foyer, just a couple of potted sanseveria plants in between the two elevators. Cody pushed the up button on the panel. The white arrow of the left elevator turned on, with a soft ding: the elevator was already on the floor. The duo stepped in and proceeded up to the fourth floor.
"So, are you and Myrna close…as in good friends?" Cody asked. His partner let out an exasperated breath, leaning against the wall of the elevator.
"Yeah, we're the only ones from our generation. I'm an only child and so is she. We grew up together in Japan, but my aunt and uncle moved to Metro City about ten years ago. We've managed to keep in touch with each other. She and my grandmother are the only family I have left now. Both my parents were murdered and both her parents…"
"Died in a car accident. Yeah, she told me about that." the boxer said solemnly. He attempted to look into Dion's eyes, but couldn't see much as he was looking down toward the floor. The elevator bell rung again, as the doors opened up to the fourth floor. They both stepped out, walking toward Myrna's apartment.
"Our family doesn't have much luck when it come living a long life. It's amazing that we even exist today, knowing our ancestry," the young Filipino said with pale laughter as he leaned against the wall next to the door of Myrna's apartment.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the boxer asked confusingly.
"Most of our ancestors died before they were even thirty. My parents were a little lucky at the age of forty-four and forty-five and Myrna's parents at the age of forty-six and forty-nine. My grandmother's the luckiest of them all – she's seventy," he laughed again. "Maybe Myrna and I will be lucky enough to live till we're fifty." Cody simply gave a strange glance.
"I know it sounds weird that I'm laughing at this, but Myrna and I joke about this curse all the time. It's just that death seems to run our lives and we've decided to turn around and laugh back it."
Cody was amused somewhat, but it was a strange case nonetheless. The boxer knocked on the door, while Dion continued to lean against the wall. They waited about thirty seconds before Cody knocked again.
"Myrna, are you home?" Cody said loudly. Hearing an unlocking noise from behind, Cody turned around to see a rough-looking man with a balding head and a long, red beard. He was smoking a pipe and his discolored t-shirt reeked of pot.
"You're looking for Myrna? She's not here. She took a trip to Chicago, something about a nursing seminar or something like that," the burly man stated.
"Hmm, she never mentioned any of that to me," Dion said. "Oh well, I'm her cousin from Japan and I got a key to her apartment. Thanks anyways."
"Oh, okay, well here's her mail." He bent down to the floor to grab a stack of envelopes. It was amazing the he was able to bend down with that humongous beer belly.
"Thanks," said Dion as the large man closed his door. Dion grabbed a hold of the apartment keys from his back pack and unlocked the apartment door. It was silent; the only audible things being the pendulum of the clock and the motor of the aquarium pump.
The apartment was of decent size, not to mention spotless. Any cleaner and there would have been sparkles shining to and fro. The walls were painted off-white, with smoky-gray carpeting. The dining room table, with its spotless glass tabletop, was ready for company. The living room, if you wanted to call it another room, could have used more furnishings. All that was really there was small end table sitting next to the silver sofa and an ottoman – not even a TV.
"My cousin's a neat freak, but then again you knew that," looking at Cody with raised eyebrows. "I don't think she would mind if we stayed here for a couple of days, as long as we don't trash the place." Dion placed the pile of envelopes and magazines on the dining room table, while Cody made his way into the living room. He set his large duffel bag down next to the sofa and took a seat, his arms sprawled on the backsplash of the couch.
"I think you should sleep in Myrna's room," Cody started. "You know, being her cousin and everything. At least she won't flip if she saw me sleeping in her bed." Dion laughed for moment, walking toward the small kitchen.
"Do you want a glass of orange juice?" he asked, pulling a glass from the cabinet above.
"Uh, no thanks. I can't believe my landlord gave my apartment to that guy. I liked that apartment," he stated, crossing his arms.
"That's what you get for leaving town and not telling anybody," Dion replied wryly. The boxer didn't bother replying to his remark.
"Which room did Myrna keep my stuff in?" he asked Dion.
"Should be that door next to the couch," the youth yelled from the kitchen. Cody got up from the sofa and opened the door. Sure enough, his stuff was inside, neatly arranged and organized.
"Wow, your cousin is a neat freak," Cody thought. He made his way into the room. All of his t-shirts, boxer shorts and socks were folded neatly in his cream hamper bins. Shirts, pants and jeans were hung neatly on hangars and all his CDs, electronic equipment and weapons lay neatly on the twin bed. All of his stuff was basically there, with the exception of large furniture, which was property of the landlord anyway.
"There you are," Cody mused, referring to his extensive knife collection. "I'm glad Myrna was able to hold on to you guys." Knives of different shapes and sizes were seated neatly in many wooden boxes fixed with glass tops. He opened one of the boxes and slid his finger against the cold steel of a knife blade. "I'll find you Jessica," he said to himself. "And then I'm gonna make whoever did this to you regret the day he laid eyes on you."
"That's quite an impressive collection of knives you got there," as Dion walked into the room with his glass of orange juice. "But I still think that katana is the best," looking at it from where he stood.
"Anything that katana can do, my knives can do better. Alright, enough of me searching through my stuff, what information do you have on the Mad Gears?" the boxer asked, walking out of the room.
"I don't have much," Dion answered, making his way behind Cody. "All I have are some documents that my parents had when they were doing undercover work on them. They really knew how to cover up their stuff. Heck, I didn't even know they were agents until they were murdered. I'm sure there are more documents in my house in Japan, but I've yet to find the jackpot."
Dion walked to his backpack and opened another side pocket, one that Cody had overlooked when he was searching his bag on the plane, and pulled out another envelope bound together by a rubber band.
"Anything would do right about now," mentioned Cody, as he took the rubber band off the envelope. He pulled out a stack of papers. "Hmm, this is a lot of reading," as he shuffled through the papers filled with single space writing from top to bottom – an endless sea of black ink.
"I read the first four pages, but couldn't make a word out of it. I think undercover agents have their own way of writing or something, a lot of the passages are almost poetic," the Filipino said, taking a seat in one of the dining room chairs, resting his chin on his hand. Cody just shifted through the papers, until he saw one that caught his eye.
"You have got to be kidding me," Cody said in a loud tone.
"What?" as Dion lifted his head.
"There's been a Mad Gear related incident in every continent on the world with the exception of Antarctica! Paris, Johannesburg, Mexico City, Sydney, Cairo, Tokyo, Los Angeles, Manila, São Paulo, London, Moscow…this list goes on and on. Jessica could be in any one of these places." He flipped the page over, revealing a map with all the cities that were listed clearly marked.
"So what's the plan?" asked Dion.
"Hmm, I'm not sure." The boxer looked out the window in the dining area. "The sun is just starting to set. If we're going to find information, this would be the best time. Agh, it's been a year and a half. Who knows if all my contacts are still around?" Cody paced the room a bit, as Dion simply drank the last gulp of orange juice. "But I know one who still is. Where's your cousin's phone."
Dion simply pointed over toward the kitchen. Cody strolled over to the phone and quickly punched in a number to the receiver.
"I don't think Myrna would mind if I used her phone." Dion just gave a shrug of his shoulders, taking the glass to the kitchen sink.
"Metro City Special Crimes Department. How can I help you?" answered a voice from the other side.
"Yes," Cody said in a deep and monotone voice. The young Asian simply made a face at the voice he heard. "Is this Inspector Morgan?"
"Inspector!" Dion yelled aloud. Cody simply put a finger to his lip.
"Yes it is," the voice replied. "How can I help you?"
"I have vital information concerning the whereabouts of the Mad Gears," Cody started, walking around the apartment.
"Go ahead," the other voice responded.
"If you wish me to give you any information, you will have to meet me, in private – no colleagues of yours, no colleagues of mine: just the two of us. Then, and only then, will I give the details." The voice on the other line was somewhat hesitant.
"Alright sir, where do you want to meet?"
"5:00pm sharp, Saint Clair Park, on the bench next to the Albert Wisner statue. Remember, come alone." With that, Cody clicked the off button on the phone. "I have an appointment to go to," the boxer said out loud.
"With a cop? Are you crazy? They'll just take you back in," Dion argued with a large voice.
"Not just any cop, an inspector and an old friend of mine since high school. This person has access to all the top files of the Metro City Police Department."
"I should go with you. What if you get turned in?" Dion pleaded.
"No can do, I already gave my word that I wouldn't bring anybody, and I know this person won't turn me in. Trust me on this one Dion."
"Humph!" the Filipino simply puffed, crossing his arms.
"Look, it's almost four-thirty now. I'll be back around six," Cody stated, taking both his and Dion's documents with him. "I'm not trying to diss you, but this is something that I have to do alone. I'll see you in a bit."
It was closing in on five o'clock. A young girl with short, blonde hair sat on a bench next to the Albert Wisner statue. She was wearing khaki cargo shorts and a tight, light-blue T-shirt revealing a lot of cleavage. She looked around, trying to figure out who the mysterious caller could be, but without a name or a description, she was looking for a needle in a haystack.
"At least I have you with me," she said to herself, patting her collapsible Billy Club within her pocket. She looked around some more, not recognizing anyone, just a bunch of law-abiding citizens and trees. "I'm gonna be really pissed off if this is some kind of hoax," she complained.
"Don't you have better faith in me than that Inspector Morgan?" The young girl quickly turned around from where she was seated. "Or should I say . . . Lucia?"
"Cody!" she almost screamed, as she jumped on top of him from the bench. She gave him a hug, but then quickly pushed him back.
"What the heck are you doing here? You're wanted in the entire state of Jersey!" she screamed in a whispered tone.
"That's it?" he said, acting surprised. "I thought New York would've wanted a piece of the action too," he mused, putting his hands in his pockets.
"Oh that's real funny. Where have you been? Where's the mayor's daughter?" Lucia snapped back, glaring at him with squinted eyes.
"I've been hiding out in Canada and Jessica is the reason I'm here. Listen, I need your help. The Mad Gears have somehow formed again," Cody started.
"So what else is new?" as Lucia plopped herself on the bench.
"Huh?" questioned Cody, leaning against the base of the statue.
"Over the past eight weeks, there have been minor break-ins, robberies and arson. All of them with the Mad Gears' calling card," Lucia answered.
"So it's true. They really are back in business," the boxer muttered, staring at the cobblestone walkway. Lucia had a hard time buying his story.
"So why are you really here," she demanded.
"I already told you, I'm trying to find Jessica. What more do you want?" replied Cody, still staring at the cobblestone walkway.
"And you're just starting to look now? What makes you think she's in Metro City? There hasn't been a sign of her since you supposedly dropped her off at home one and half years ago! C'mon Cody, that's a pretty lame excuse, especially from you," as she crossed her arms.
"Shut up Lucia!" Cody yelled. "I didn't fucking come halfway across the country for you to give an interrogation! If you think that Jessica didn't cross my mind every single fucking day of my isolated existence, you're damn wrong! There's been times where I just wanted to stroll freely across the world and search every damn nook and cranny, but that would've been pointless. I didn't have any info on where she could be. I couldn't come back to Metro City, not with everyone trying to jail my ass for a crime I didn't commit. The only reason I'm showing my face in this place is because it was the only lead I had. If you don't believe me here, take a look."
The ex-hero threw the black file folder that he received last night to her. The inspector caught the folder and opened it up, pulling out the mysterious letter. She was astounded at what she read and even more appalled with the photos. She turned to look at Cody, whose elbows were resting on his knees, his head sunken low.
"Cody, I'm…I'm sorry…I don't know what to tell you," the investigator said sadly.
"Just tell me that you'll help…please," Cody pleaded in a much softer tone. "Lucia, you're the only one I can trust in this city. We've known each other since high school. You're my only hope now; I can't find her on my own."
"Cody, you know I will, but I can't do much without exposing you," she frowned.
"You have complete access to Metro City's investigation files, don't you?" Cody asked, placing a grasp on her shoulders.
"Yes, but…"
"I need you to do three things," as he took the black file folder back. He took out the documents from Dion's parents. "One, this investigation report is written by a couple of undercover agents in Japan. I guess you investigators have a special way of writing, I know you can read and translate this."
"Geez Cody, this thing's a bible," replied Lucia, flipping the stack of papers.
"Two, this map has locations of all known Mad Gear activities. I need to know which cities are likely to have a Mad Gear stronghold and which of these cities are currently dealing with Mad Gear activity. Lastly, I need you to find information, if any, on a guy named Roscio. He's black, about six feet tall, somewhat muscular guy. He drives a Rolls-Royce."
"Would you like fries and a pop with that too?" Lucia teased.
"Come on, that's light compared to what you do everyday. What about past Mad Gear members? What's the scoop about them? Are they still causing trouble?"
"They're all pretty much gone. The only one that's still here that we know of is Damnd."
"Damnd? What's he still doing here?" an upset Cody spoke.
"He's actually made quite a career for himself. He owns a nightclub called Club 1080. He swears that he doesn't have anymore connections with the Mad Gears, but no one knows for sure. He's been clean as far as we know, but then again, no one knows where he got the money to build his club."
"Club 1080, huh? Where at?" asked the boxer.
"Westside, H Street and Dunham Road. You can't miss it. It opens at 9:00pm and knowing you, you're probably going to head down there and investigate, right?" asked Lucia, giving the boxer "the look."
"Am I that predictable?" replied Cody.
"Yep. Alrighty, Club 1080, nine sharp. See you there."
"Huh? I never said anything about you tagging along," Cody protested, pointing a finger at her.
"Hey, somebody needs to keep you in line. Besides, I've been meaning for a little excitement. Don't be late."
"Luckily I had this silk shirt with me to go clubbin'. What do you think?" Dion asked Cody, outstretching his arms and pointing his fingers inward. The young Filipino was wearing black pants and a black, silk shirt with silver and white vertical stripes toward the center of his body.
"Not bad, but it doesn't beat my leather jacket," he replied. The boxer returned his focus onto the nightclub head. The name of the club was lit in large pink and orange neon lights. The place was huge and heavily secured as buff security guards dressed in black stood in front of the entrance, carding younger people. "I must admit, Damnd knows how to attract people to his club."
"You're pretty sharp in black Cody," came a familiar voice. The duo turned around to see Lucia, wearing tight leather pants and leather top-piece. Their eyes widened and Dion's mouth was wide open. "Who's your cute friend?" she asked, referring to the youthful Asian standing next to Cody.
"Uh, this is Dion. He's my partner," answered Cody. "Dion, this is Inspector Morgan. You can just call her Lucia.
"Nice to see you, Lucia," Dion replied like a wolf.
"I'm sure the pleasure is all mine. Shall we continue?"
"Yeah," Cody and Dion replied simultaneously. "You never told me Inspector Morgan was a lady," Dion whispered over to Cody.
"You never asked," he simply replied.
"The red light district at its best, gentlemen," Lucia started, as they walked toward the club. "Club 1080 is comprised of five floors. The first four floors are the dance floors: rock, hiphop, trance and house respectively. Damnd's office is the fifth floor. The first three floors will be easy to infiltrate. The fourth floor is going to be tricky. Damnd's private office overlooks the fourth level dance floor from above, so we have to be extra careful to make sure we're not spotted.
"There are only three entrances to the fifth floor, two are on the fourth floor on either side of hall, both guarded with security personnel. Once you've managed to get passed them, you'll need to get into Damnd's private office, located directly in the center of the floor. Getting there isn't going to be a walk in the park. The floor is guarded with security officers and surveillance cameras. If you're caught, you risk causing mass hysteria and every news camera in the city will be here within seconds."
"What about the third entrance?" asked Cody.
"No kidding, all that seems pretty complicated," his partner added.
"The third entrance is a private elevator, which needs a key that only Damnd has. Sorry, but that's not even an option," the inspector replied.
"Okay, so how are we supposed to get to his office without being caught?" asked Dion.
"Elementary, my dear friend. You and I are going to create a small diversion. There are about ten security guards total on the fourth and fifth floors combined. We should be able to buy enough time for Cody to slip through without worrying about the guards. Cody, you'll have to maneuver through the surveillance cameras, but hopefully our distraction will keep them from the screens."
"Hopefully? That's doesn't sound very comforting. And how do you know this place so well?" asked as suspicious Cody.
"Hey, I'm an undercover investigator; I'm supposed to know all this stuff. Besides, I've been a here a few times," she said hesitantly. Cody and Dion just gave each other glances.
Lucia walked over to the security guard, who patted her down.
"Go ahead," replied the security guard. Lucia walked in and took a look around. She found herself in a large and dark dancing room with smoke hovering over the floors. A heavy metal rock band was playing in the distance.
"Just like old times, huh Cody?" she asked, as Cody made his way in.
"Let's just go," he answered. They made their way to the staircases and climbed up to the fourth floor without any difficulty. They were now greeted with a pulsating bass beat as house music blasted into the room. A bar was on the east side of the room, with neon blue lights accenting the corners and crevices. The glass blocks that supported the bar table glowed and reflected the light in many intricate ways. A few teenagers were standing on large crates, spinning a bunch of glow-sticks around in unique patterns. The smoke was at least knee high as the trio made their way in.
"Alright Cody, the entrances to the top floor are straight ahead. Your friend and I will take it from here," Lucia pointed out. The boxer dressed in black started making his way toward the back, while Dion and Lucia went the opposite way. The couple shifted through the crowd of people, making their way near a couple of security guards.
"Here's the plan," the investigator started, her voice fighting over the loud music. "We're a couple. You want to drive back home, but your drunk as hell and I'm not letting you drive, cool?"
"But that would require me drinking, and I'm only twenty. I can't be drunk," complained Dion.
"Just fake it. They're not going to know!" Lucia responded in a squinted face.
"Alright. C'mon let's go!" he yelled out, he grabbed Lucia's hand and attempted to pull her out of the dance floor while pretending to lose balance.
"Huh?" she asked.
"C'mon! Let's go home!" Dion insisted, pulling her toward the exit. He purposely bumped into a guy, who was dancing next to him. The dancer stared coldly back at him. Then it hit Lucia that he was already starting the diversion.
"You can't! You're drunk as hell! We're taking a bus!" she yelled, resisting Dion's pull to leave the dance floor.
"Come on, stop being a little bitch and let's get the hell out of here!" Dion screamed even louder.
"What did you call me?" she snapped. All of a sudden, she slapped Dion in the face.
"Hey, what the heck was that for?" he boasted out loud, rubbing his cheek with his hand. Not too far off, one of the security guards had noticed the bickering couple. Something had to be done.
"Alpha Squad, we have a problem on the house floor," a security guard spoke into his radio.
"Roger that, sending back up to the house floor." All of a sudden, a fight broke out between Dion and Lucia, with the investigator tackling the young Filipino onto the floor.
"Don't you ever call me a bitch!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Security guards began rushing in to break up the fight. A few had scurried down the stairs from the fifth floor to assist them. They attempted to separate the two, but it proved more difficult than what the security guards had anticipated.
"Now's my chance," the boxer thought to himself as he slipped his way to the fifth floor. "Wow, they really know how to act."
The fifth floor was nothing like the bottom four floors. The walls were composed of dark mahogany and the inset lighting created an atmosphere for a five-star hotel. Intricate chair-rail moldings gave a touch of class, separating the walls in half. The boxer very carefully searched for any surveillance cameras, but to his surprise, he didn't see any.
"Lucia, I don't see any cameras anywhere," looking at the ceilings as he snuck his way toward Damnd's office. Cody started to hear footsteps, but it was already too late to hide from his current position. Suddenly a guard appeared from around the corner.
"Hey you! What do you think you're doing here?" he asked in a bold voice. Cody instinctively side kicked the guard square in the neck, knocking him toward the ground and to the boxer's surprise, was out cold.
"That's it? Garbage," he thought to himself. Unfortunately, Cody spoke too soon, as another guard rushed to the scene. "Ah, maybe you'll be a better competitor," the boxer teased as he got into his stance.
The guard stepped in with a wild hook, but Cody easily dodged it and went straight in for a gut punch and followed through with an uppercut. The guard stumbled back a bit, but immediately ran for a tackle, taking Cody down by his stomach. Immediately, the guard punched Cody's face with a right hook. A throbbing pain soon formulated on the boxer's left cheek.
"Sir we have an intruder trying to sneak into your office," a security guard said into a radio receiver.
"Really?" a deep voice replied, not at all surprised, but almost amused. "On screen." His laptop flickered on as video imagery from a surveillance camera streamed into view. A man, dressed in black, was overturning the tables on one of his security guards. "Well, what do we have here?"
"We're dispatching more security to detain him, sir," continued the officer.
"Negative. Let him come," he responded.
"Sir?"
"He's an old friend."
"Madam, calm down," as security tried to control Lucia. A large group of people had encircled to see what the commotion was about. In a fit of rage, Lucia kneed one of the security guards and hurled him over her shoulder, in an attempt to smack Dion. The Filipino simply ducked out of the way, as the security guard collided with another guard behind him. Cheers rung out from the entire crowd.
"Wow, she must take acting pretty seriously," Dion thought to himself, "but two can play at this game." Dion made a dumb face and called over to Lucia. "You missed me by a mile! Can't you do better than that?"
"Grrr!" Lucia growled as she picked up another security guard and flung him toward Dion. The young martial artist outstretched his arm into a tiger palm thrust, pushing the guard back toward Lucia. Rolling out the way, she landed next to yet another security who tried to grab her.
"Miss, you can't throw the security guards. I'm afraid I'm going to have to escort you outside," he replied loudly.
"Shut up," she answered back and flipped him over to Dion, who simply roundhouse kicked him away. Dion rushed in with a flying side kick, but Lucia quickly ducked, nearly being decapitated. The investigator attempted to side kick the Filipino, but he moved away just in time.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's serious," he thought. Dion moved in with a spear-hand, which Lucia dodged really quickly. She then went into a high, split kick, nearly knocking Dion's head off. "She's not all that bad," he thought again.
"This is too easy," Cody thought to himself, rubbing his jaw. "Ready or not, here I come." Cody kicked down the door to Damnd's private chamber. Spotlights greeted Cody's face as he walked to the extravagant office. Similarly decorated as the hallway, the office supported four thick colonnades done in a gothic style. The ex-hero stepped onto the oriental carpet in the center of the room.
"Mr. Travers. What a pleasant surprise," came a deep voice from behind the large, ornate desk. A wooden seat, with leather cushioning turned slowly around to reveal the one and only Damnd. He buttoned the cuff to his white suit and dusted off his black, buttoned shirt.
"So tell me, to what do I owe the honor of you showing up to my humble abode and pummeling my security guards senseless?" as he cracked his fist.
"Cut the crap Damnd! Where's Jessica?" the boxer demanded, advancing toward his desk.
"Jessica? The mayor's daughter?" as he gazed into Cody's eyes. "Ha! Why are you asking me?" still sitting in his chair. "If anyone knows it should be you. You were the last one to ever see her alive."
"I know you still work for the Mad Gears. Tell me all you know!" shouted Cody, his muscles all tense.
"The Mad Gears?" Damnd asked sarcastically. "Ha, you still think I work for those fools? As you can see, I run a business now Cody, I don't have time for petty things such as that. Why don't you just go home before you get yourself hurt."
"Not until I get some answers!" he shouted back.
"I tried being nice, but you just don't know when to quit." Damnd turned his seat, seeing the masses below through his single glass wall. Without warning, he whistled loud and clearly.
The door was kicked open again as Cody quickly turned around. He was speechless at what he saw. A few feet in front of him stood a large, white muscleman in blue jeans. His short, spiky blonde hair looked sharp enough to stab a person. Damnd stood up and turned around to face his intruder.
"I want you to meet my bodyguard. His name's Thrasher." The bodyguard simply giggled. "It's been awhile Cody, but I've always wanted to beat you down after the Mad Gears were defeated." Damnd jumped over his desk and jump kicked his way to Cody, his blond dreadlocks moved frantically across his face.
"Ugghh!" Cody flew back and fell to the ground, falling only inches from Damnd's bodyguard. Thrasher quickly picked up the boxer by the neck and set loose a couple of heavy gut punches to Cody's stomach before throwing him over to Damnd. The boxer desperately tried gasping for air, but Damnd simply walked over to him and kicked him away.
"Don't tell me that's all you got. Not even a fight back?" jeered Damnd. The boxer managed to get himself up before the two were able to approach him. He dashed toward Thrasher with a flying kick of his own, sending him back. Immediately, Cody flipped into a crack kick, connecting his foot to his opponent's face. Thrasher fell back, but Cody ducked immediately, allowing the fist of Damnd to cut through the air.
Switching his focus over to Damnd, Cody slammed his fist into club owner's jaw and followed through with a Dead End Irony. All of the attacks cleanly connected as Damnd was sucked into the vacuum of kicks. He flew back, falling near his desk.
Cody, however, never made it back to the ground. Rather, he was caught in mid-air by the burly bodyguard, hurling the ex-hero into one of the colonnade posts. Cody slumped back on the column, trying to support his weight. His body was aching and it wasn't exactly the best of odds. Thrasher crouched down and then began to dash forward at high speeds with a stiffened shoulder.
Cody balanced his arms against the column and gave two big boots to Thrasher's head, stopping the incoming collision. Unfortunately, the bodyguard barely even flinched. He grabbed the ex-hero and flung him against a display cabinet. Glass shattered everywhere, as Cody tried to shake the cobwebs off.
A cold sensation rubbed against Cody's hand as he looked down – a throwing knife. It couldn't have come at a better time, with two large bodies closing in on him. In a blurry motion, Cody threw the knife at Damnd's bodyguard. Thrasher's eyes lit up, as he stared at the knife plunged into his chest. He simply fell back, never to get up again.
"Damn!" Damnd yelled, stepping away from Cody, who was getting up.
"Now, where's Jessica?" Cody said with an evil look.
"You'll have to catch me first!" he yelled. He suddenly leapt backwards into the large, glass window, falling down to the dance floor below. Fragments of glass rained everywhere as dancers hollered and shrieked. Dion and Lucia stopped their bickering to notice the commotion from above.
"Ah ha ha ha! Ah ha ha ha!" he madly laughed as he pushed his way through the crowds. Cody himself jumped down to the dance floor as well, in hot pursuit of Damnd.
"Alright Cody!" Dion yelled, as he flew through the air, unraveling his body into a butterfly kick, knocking two guards down. "It's party time!"
Cody raced down the stairs, chasing after Damnd. Many choice words and gestures came from the dancers as the boxer shoved through the thick crowd of people. The stairs seemed endless, but he reached the first floor in the knick of time to see the club owner slipping past a corner into an alley. Cody sprinted, following Damnd wherever he went. He definitely wasn't done with him.
"Damn that guy," Damnd said underneath his breath. He knocked over a few trash cans and crates, putting obstacles between him and his pursuer. The club owner quickly skidded against the asphalt pavement to make a sharp right turn, as the alley did an L-shape turn. He threw down a few more garbage cans, as he ran across a large puddle of water. The water stained Damnd's white suit as he ran across.
"Fuck! This is an eight-hundred dollar suit." Damnd peered back, but to his dismay, he still saw Cody hurdling over the garbage bins and closing in.
Wind constantly whipped against Cody's face. It's been a while since he had a good chase. Frankly, he was surprised that Damnd could even run this fast as he saw him make a sharp left turn. The ex-hero followed close behind, finding himself in the Chinese marketplace of Westside, near the area where he fought the corrupted cop Edi.E roughly two years ago.
Damnd was losing patience as he knocked over crates of fruits and vegetables. People cursed in their native language as the two zipped through the marketplace. Damnd didn't care who or what he knocked down. He wanted to escape all this madness.
The club owner quickly made another sharp right running through another dark, wet and secluded alley. He dodged a few more trash cans and large dumpsters before coming to T-intersection. One route lead to a dead end, the other continued on, but with a twelve-foot chain link fence preventing anyone from passing through. Cody was not far behind, dodging the obstacle course as best he could. The former slums boss decided to press his luck and began climbing the fence. A dumpster and few crates were stacked to the side. Damnd jumped on one and then another, using them as stairs to get onto the dumpster. To his surprise, one of the crates gave way to all his weight and he came crashing down to the asphalt pavement.
Cody ran in, picking up the club owner and kneed him in the stomach rapidly, each one getting harder. After about five good kicks, the boxer came in with a left hook and then a right, followed by an uppercut. Damnd just stumbled back a few feet, but he still didn't go down. Cody charged through ramming Damnd into the brick wall of a building. Damnd was nearly out cold. Cody had literally beaten him to a bloody pulp, just as he did years ago. He forced him against the brick wall.
"Do you work for the Mad Gears again?" he demanded, twisting Damnd's arm.
"N . . . no! I told you I . . . I don't work for them anymore. I'm a business manager now!"
"Liar!" Cody shouted as he twisted even harder.
"Ah! It's . . . the truth! All I know is that there's some new guy in town."
"What's his name?" keeping a firm grip.
"Ow! I don't know. No one knows except his most trusted subordinates."
"What about Jessica? Where's she at?" the boxer demanded.
"Why do you keep asking me that? No one's seen her since you went on your little movie trip a year and a half ago," he barely managed to say. He tried wiggling his way free, but Cody simply twisted his arm even harder.
"Do you know a guy named Roscio?" Cody asked.
"Roscio? Why do you want to know about him?"
"Just answer the question!" kneeing him in the stomach, keeping him close at bay.
"Some new guy in town – a real bad-ass. No one knows who he's affiliated with and he doesn't take any crap from what I hear. If I were you, I'd steer clear of him."
"Fuck!" he shouted, letting Damnd go. The club owner simply slumped down. Cody didn't get the information he wanted to hear and he wasn't any closer to finding the whereabouts of his girlfriend. Having no further use of him, the boxer walked away.
"You know Cody, you're still a little punk from the streets. Always have, always will be," Damnd cackled, rubbing his shoulder. The boxer stopped in his tracks and turned around. He bent down and lifted the club owner up by the collar of his shirt, fixing his gaze onto the bloody mess that was Damnd.
"You may be decked out in a stylin' suit and have a hot new club that's the talk of the town, but you're still just common street trash." Upon finishing his last word, the ex-hero hurled him into the dumpster bin and closed the lid.
"Cody!" yelled out a familiar woman's voice. "What happened? Where's Damnd?" Lucia and Dion skidded across the asphalt floor, the echoes of their feet reverberating in the dark and wet alley. They had followed the path of destruction to Cody's location.
"Let's just get the heck outta here," he simply stated. "I'll tell you when we get back," walking back into the Chinese marketplace. Both Lucia and Dion followed in pursuit.
"That's all you got out of him?" a dumbfounded Lucia asked. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked away. "You should have let me do the interrogating!"
"He wouldn't have told you anything else. When Damnd's being threatened, he lets loose the entire can of worms. That's why he wasn't much of a big shot when the Mad Gears were at full force two years ago," informed Cody. He sat at the head of the table with Lucia at his left, also crossing his arms.
"So then what are we going to do now? We're back to where we started," complained Dion, taking some dishes from the dinner they had back into Myrna's kitchen. Silence fell over all three of them.
"Back before I was arrested, I used to know some people who were good at uncovering information," the boxer mentioned, resting his elbows on the table. "Thing is, it's been awhile, so I don't know what any of them are up to or if they're even still around. Lucia, have you ever heard of M-Flip, Surge, Creeps or Vet?" asked the boxer.
"Old friends of yours?" asked Dion, washing a plate.
"Talk about a blast from the past. I haven't heard those names in awhile," she stated, scratching her forehead. Do you really think those guys would be worth tracking down?" questioned the inspector.
"They may have questionable pasts and activities, but for the right price, they can get intelligence from the deepest societies of Metro City that most undercover agent wouldn't even know about," he responded straightforwardly, leaning back a bit. "So what do you know about them?" Lucia paused for a moment, thinking.
"Hmm, I don't know who Vet is, so I can't help you there," Inspector Morgan started. "I know Surge went six-feet under, got shot down after someone snitched that he stole some disk from one of the smaller rival gangs. M-Flip had left the scene not long after the Mad Gears were supposedly out of business. People say he went to the West Coast, but no one's really seen him since."
"Damn," the boxer shouted, pounding the table.
"Hey hey, watch the table," shouted Dion from the kitchen. "That thing's glass you know. How am I going to explain it to her if that thing breaks?"
"Sorry Dion," the boxer replied, rubbing his wrist.
"Creeps…Creeps is basically serving life in prison, convicted on charges of assault and battery, armed robbery and murder.
"That only leaves Vet," said Cody.
"I don't recognize the name," Lucia responded. "Does he have any other aliases?"
"Not that I know of. His real name is Victor Emanuel Torres. His nickname is basically just his initials."
"I'll can do a check on the systems and give you a call tomorrow morning." The inspector let out a long yawn. She looked at her watch. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure, but I'm heading out for the night. You two should get some sleep," she suggested, grabbing her purse from one of the chairs.
"Thanks Lucia," replied Cody, still reclined on the dining room chair. With that, Lucia opened the door to the hallway and walked out.
