M: Here we go, chapter 12. Enjoy!
Chapter 12: Hunter plays poker
"We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered." – Tom Stoppard
As Sergeant Brooks arrived on the scene, it was still pitch-black, seeing as it was in the middle of the night. Ten minutes earlier they had received a call of suspicious activity, and seeing as Brooks was on patrol in the area, he was dispatched there. But upon arriving on the scene, he didn't see anything, at first. But after taking a closer look, he saw a small puddle of blood lying on the pavement. He immediately called it in and within another ten minutes, there was an entire CSI team testing the blood and scanning the entire area for more clues.
"So, what are you testing it for?" Sergeant Brooks asked the team leader, who was currently testing the sample with some kind of brand-new computer.
"With this new equipment Captain Xavier has requested for us, we can now scan DNA against several databases while we're still in the field." the technician replied. "Which is precisely what I'm doing right now." the computer then let out a beep and as the technician looked on the screen, he couldn't help but gasp. Sergeant Brooks immediately turned the screen so that he could see the result: 'Captain Andreas Xavier, Central City Police Department'.
"Dispatch, this is Sergeant Brooks, shield number 4675, do you read?" he spoke into his radio.
"This is dispatch, what do you need, Sergeant?" a dispatch operator responded.
"I believe Captain Andreas Xavier is missing and we need every available cop out looking for him." Brooks said.
"Are you sure about this, Sergeant?" the operator asked. "Are you sure you want to report another cop missing?"
"Oh, we're way past that stage." Sergeant Brooks replied. "I'm declaring this an emergency situation, we need every cop on the streets to find the Captain."
Slowly, Shadex opened his eyes. He was in a bedroom of sorts. He was lying on a large king-sized bed, with dark purple blankets and pillows. The frame was made out of a dark-metallic like wood. He had no idea where he was, the last thing he remembered was shooting and getting shot by Razor 2 at the bank. However, none of that explained where he was now.
"You're awake." A voice came from one of the corners of the room.
Shadex immediately turned his head towards the voice's source, which when he saw a husky like him sitting at a desk made from a dark type of wood. The husky's fur was as grey as coal dust, but not dark enough to suggest anything sinister. But then Shadex almost freaked out when he noticed it. The other husky had wings! But Shadex managed to contain himself as he took a closer look at the wings. They looked ragged and feral… almost like the wings of a fallen angel. The husky was sporting purple hair, in a colour Shadex could only describe as a dark orchid. To make the scene in front of him even more freaky, there was a lone candle sitting on the desk that sported a purple flame, which discoloured the entire room. On the desk, Shadex could also make out the faint shape of a whetstone, next to a sword that looked as freaky as the candle. The sword looked to be sharp enough to cut through anything and it seemed to be made of a purple crystal. But that wasn't all of it, the sword also seemed to glow, giving off the same light as the candle. It looked as if there was a purple fire of endless proportions burning within the crystal. Just looking at it, Shadex could feel the heat radiating off it. In spite of said heat, looking at that sword sent shivers down his spine.
The husky, seemingly tired of waiting for a reply, got up and approached Shadex who was still lying on the bed. "Your life's in danger. Grave Danger. Your choices have led you to the brink of death, any normal being would not have survived. You are pathetic, especially for a doppelganger. I would've lasted far longer than you have."
"Who are you? What are you?" Shadex asked the stranger. Shadex was terrified.
"Never mind that, there's no need for you to know anyway." The husky replied. "What does matter is that I am here to tell you something since he asked me to do so."
"Who's he?" Shadex asked though he didn't expect an answer.
"You don't know who I am, mostly because we look different. It's probably for the best that we keep it that way, not everyone can hold on to their sanity when they learn the truth." The husky said, inadvertently answering Shadex' earlier question. "Either way, I am to tell you this: You must find someone. He's white. Looks like you. Famous Detective. You have the same blood flowing through your veins. I can't tell you his name, but you'll know who he is the moment you see him."
"Are you talking about Silvex?" Shadex asked as he remembered the ID-photo that he saw at the vault.
"Like I said, I can't tell you his name." the husky replied, before hesitatingly adding: "There's also something else…"
The husky then stopped talking, as if he wasn't sure whether he should continue or not. Shadex got the feeling that whatever the husky was about to say, he wasn't really supposed to. But before Shadex got a chance to speak, the husky continued.
"A storm is coming. A storm that will rock the very foundations of society like never before. This storm is inevitable, but survivable. But only if you managed to find him before it gets unleashed." The husky said. "Remember this."
"I don't… Understand." The Shadex said. The words the husky spoke and the way he said them left no doubt in Shadex' mind that he was telling the truth. And truth be told, it terrified Shadex down to his very core.
"Not everyone does. But you will in time." The winged husky said. "I hope."
"Heeeeeeellllooooooooooooooo? What about me?" Both huskies looked at the source, which turned out to be a bulky English bulldog. He was held in place by large, heavy shackles that had him chained to the wall.
"Rubble, I told you when he gets back, we'll decide what we'll do with you." The winged husky said, clearly annoyed about the interruption.
"I've been sitting here for days now! How long is your brother gonna be?" Rubble complained. The winged husky walked towards him, spreading his wings along the way so that he filled up Rubble's entire field of vision.
"If you don't like it," the husky said in a dead calm, yet ice-cold voice. "I could just toss you into the pit of prisoners of mine and leave you to their mercy. I am sure they'd appreciate the distraction of pulling you apart, piecing you back together only to tear you apart again." The winged husky threatened, his facial expression being a creepy smile with glowing eyes of a mix of red and purple, which seemed to radiate a dark excitement. Rubble wisely chose to stay silent.
"Now, as for you," The winged husky turned back to the non-winged pup. "You need to get a move on. You've been dead for too long, time to wake up…" The husky said, a flame igniting in his right paw, which he forced it into the non-winged pup's face.
They were sitting in a dark, dimly lit, underground room full of despair, misery and ego boosts. In other words, they were sitting in the VIP Poker room of Casino Royale in Portland. Who were they? Well, that's where things get interesting. There were five men and one woman, but they were all more than they seemed. At the head of the table was Roger Black, unofficial heir to the late Marcus Black and current leader of the Blackstreet Mafia. On his left, you had an old business partner of his, Vladimir Antakov, who was in charge of the local branch of the Bratva. The Bratva, also known as the Russian mob, is the gang that held most of the power in the bigger cities on the East-Coast. On his left was a newcomer, going by the name of Hunter Highland. He was an FBI Supervisory Special Agent, but he was a corrupt one. Next to him on his left, opposite from Roger Black, sat another high-ranked mobster by the name of Francisco Hernandez, who was in charge of the Hernandez Cartel. The Hernandez Cartel was a lot smaller than the Bratva, but they were better organized and controlled most of the border separating the US and Mexico. Further, there was a woman by the name of Roberta Molina, who was the heir to all of the Molina Cartel. The Molina Cartel controlled the production of most of the drugs in Mexico and they were in charge of all transportation south of the border with the US. The last person sitting at the table was Robert King, who happened to be the DEA agent in charge of a rather large section of the US-Mexican border.
"Nice bunch of us here." Hunter noticed out loud as he put down his cards and folded. "Two corrupt agents and four kingpins to the most brutal crime syndicates in the world."
"Fold." Roberta said, before turning to Hunter. "What's your point, Hunter, or do you just have a death wish?"
"I do have a wish, but it isn't to die." Hunter replied, unfazed by Molina's not so subtle threat. "It is to start making some money." He then turned to Roger Black. "Didn't we come here to discuss a deal?"
"SSA Highland, our resident FBI agent, is right." Roger Black stated. "If we manage to reach an accord, we will all become very wealthy."
"What is there still left to discuss?" Robert King asked. "We will just execute the plan that we all agreed on: Mrs Molina and her men will provide the drugs, hand them to Mr Hernandez who will then smuggle them across the border through my jurisdiction, where I make sure they will not be stopped or intercepted. Once they reach Boston, the drugs will be handed to Mr Antakov and his men, who will transport one half to Portland and Coastal City where Mr Black will be responsible for their sale, while the other half stays in Boston to be sold to the local populace by the Bratva. Agent Highland will make sure that no federal investigations are launched against us and if they do he will make sure they will find absolutely nothing. And lastly, the money gained from this deal will be split into seven equal pieces, one for each of us and one for our mysterious benefactor, the man who made this all possible. Is everyone in accord?" Everyone nods their head in agreement, everyone except for Vladimir Antakov.
"I agree with the entire plan, except for a small detail, the seventh share of the profit." Vladimir said. "I just don't agree with us paying this 'benefactor' while we do all the work. Who is he anyway?"
"I don't know his name, only an alias. Bastion." Roger Black answered. No one noticed it, but Hunter suddenly seemed somewhat more interested in the conversation. "And the reason you haven't heard of him is because he is a very powerful and dangerous man. He is smart and he seems to be everywhere at once. One thing is for sure, he is not to be trifled with"
While Roger was talking, Hunter felt his phone buzzing, and when he looked at the screen, he read the text that he just received: 'What's your status?'
'Intel solid, Bastion connection confirmed, dead end.' Hunter quickly typed and sent without anyone noticing it.
It took a mere two seconds before Hunter received a reply: 'end and join us'. Hunter then put his phone back into his pocket and noticed that Roger Black had stopped talking.
"And that's where you're wrong." Hunter said as he got up. "Bastion isn't a person, it's an organization. Like so many in the past, it wants to acquire that one goal no one could ever get close to. World domination. They believe that with power over the underworld, they can do just that. They don't care who they have to kill to do so, which they have proven regularly. But, luckily, they face competition they didn't expect, competition in the form of another organization. Since this discovery, a secret war has broken out and as you well know, wars cost money. That is why Bastion is trying to acquire a steady income, through deals such as this." Hunter finished as he gestured all around him, from the drug lords, to the corrupt DEA Agent.
"How do you know all this?" Robert King asked the Agent. "Did the FBI send you to go undercover?" As soon as those words left his mouth, everyone got up and reached for their guns.
"Oh, no. The FBI didn't send me. But trust me, you would prefer it if they had." Hunter said as he put his left hand into his pocket. "You see, the FBI wants to take prisoners, while my real boss only wants you stopped."
And with those words, all hell broke loose, which started when Hunter pulled a flashbang grenade out of his pocket and dropped it on top of the poker table, before diving under it. As he slid down, he pulled his gun and took the liberty of shooting both kneecaps of the person who had been sitting across from him. Then the flashbang went off, blinding everyone but Hunter. The person across from Hunter, the one with the shot kneecaps collapsed and right after Hunter recognized her as Roberta Malina he fired a third bullet at her head, which hit its mark. Hunter then knocked over the table from underneath, sending it straight at Roger Black whom the table hit in the face. But when he gave up his cover position, he was forced to turn his back towards the table. As he looked for the mobster that had been sitting at his left, Francisco Hernandez, he looked right into the barrel of said mobster's gun. But before Hernandez could pull the trigger, Hunter fired two rounds into his chest, before putting a third through his neck. He then rolled towards the freshly killed mobster, grabbed his gun, and fired three rounds aimed at chest high through the table. He then aimed his, or rather Francisco's gun at Vladimir Antakov, who was just overcoming the effects of the flashbang grenade. Vladimir had aimed his gun at Hunter and he fired but missed. Before he could try again, Hunter put a bullet in his throat. Hunter then aimed the gun at Robert King, who was paralysed with fear.
Everything turned quiet, all Hunter could hear was the blood racing through his ears and the gurgling of Vladimir who was trying to breathe through the blood in his throat, which lasted a few minutes before he too grew silent.
It was only then that Hunter realized that the light had gone out, probably destroyed by the flashbang grenade, making things even more difficult to see, especially with all the smoke from the fired bullets.
It was then that Hunter heard it, a soft, weak voice trembling with fear: "I-I surrender!" It was Robert King's voice, since he was the only other survivor. Aside from Hunter, of course.
"Alright, I accept your surrender." Hunter said, slightly adjusting his aim towards the origin of the voice. "But there is a catch."
"L-like what?" Robert King asked, the DEA-Agent was terrified and he made zero effort to hide it.
"Until now, you've unwittingly been serving Bastion." Hunter replied. "But from now on, you work for me, understood?"
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." Robert King said as he slowly got up.
Hunter picked up and holstered his own gun, while holding on the Francisco's and headed towards the backdoor.
"I'll be in touch." Hunter said, before disappearing through the backdoor.
After a quick glance at the results of the fight, a terrified Robert King quickly got the hell out as well.
Across the street from Xavier's apartment, a lone Labrador was sitting on the sidewalk as he watched the scene before him. Most of the sidewalk was covered by yellow police tape, while cops were guarding it and CSI-techs were walking in and out. There were four police cars as well as a police van, presumably that belonged to the CSI department. The Labrador observed each of the cops that were guarding the area, before his eyes fell on a particular female officer standing in the background. The Labrador quickly but quietly made his way over to her.
"Excuse me, can I ask you a question?" the Labrador, also known as Callum Lynch asked the officer. Since she hadn't noticed his approach, the sudden voice scared her half to death.
"Oh, s-sure." The officer, Cara Redwood replied.
"Did something happen here?" Callum asked. His voice may have sounded concerned, but that was only for show.
"Well, I'm not supposed to tell anyone this…" Cara replied, before breaking under the pressure. "Our Captain, Andreas Xavier has been reported missing, this is his last known location."
"Oh, I see." Callum replied, before putting on a faked sad face. "That's terrible, I hope you find him soon!"
The Labrador then turned away and walked off, having left very little impression on Officer Redwood, who forgot him almost immediately. After turning the corner and leaving the police officers' sight, he immediately pulled out his cell phone. He dialled a number from memory, let it go over twice and then hung up. This was the signal for when an operation had hit a snag, but there wasn't a secure line available. Callum continued walking for a while until he felt his phone buzzing. He waited a few seconds before answering it so that the newly secured line also applied to his phone.
"Roses are red, violets are blue." Callum spoke into the phone.
A scrambled voice on the other end replied. "I may be in trouble, but so it seems are you." Callum then heard the familiar sound of the voice being descrambled.
"So, what's the situation?" Callum instantly recognized the voice of the Ace of Spades.
"The target, the one you wanted surveillance on, is missing." Callum said.
"Are you serious?" the Ace asked. He didn't sound disappointed, just annoyed. "Well, I guess it can't be helped then. Make your way to the rendezvous point, Hunter will meet you there shortly. Wait there until Shadow and I arrive, it's time we come clean about what happened two years ago, we owe Ryder that much at least."
"Yes, sir!" Callum said as he hung up. He put away his phone and disappeared into the shadows.
It had been several hours since they heard about the attack, but Chase and Zuma hadn't let go of their boyfriends for a second since they were reunited. To be honest, it was starting to make Silvex a little uncomfortable. The husky eventually decided to leave the room in search of something to distract him, which came in the form of none other than Doctor Blackthorn who led Silvex into a private room.
"So, tell me." Silvex asked, slightly annoyed that the Doctor wouldn't say anything. "What's this all about?"
"We just received a new patient in the ER, a husky." The Doctor said. "He was in bad shape, but he miraculously survived a bullet close to his heart."
"So, what does that have to do with me?" Silvex asked, still a little annoyed but he was also starting to get a little curious.
"The wound disappeared, not even leaving a scar. Sound familiar?" Doctor Blackthorn said. Any annoyance that Silvex may have felt instantly melted away. Doctor Blackthorn easily recognized the change in behaviour, so he handed Silvex the case file. "From what I heard, he partook in a bank robbery, before turning on his teammates without caring about the loot."
Silvex nodded as he rapidly read through the husky's medical dossier, fascinated by what he saw.
So I'm not the only one, then?
"Also, there is something else…" Doctor Blackthorn said. The tone of his voice made Silvex look up from the file with a worried look. "His DNA was submitted for testing, but I took the liberty and checked it against yours in private. It was a familiar match."
"What?!" Silvex asked, before shaking his head. "That's impossible, my family was all killed in that fire."
"What fire?" The Doctor asked, making Silvex realize what secret he just revealed.
"Quite a few years ago, my dad got in trouble with the Blackstreet mafia and so they burned our house down." Silvex said. His voice was dripping with sadness. He had kept his past secret all this time, but it felt good to let someone in. "My dad carried me out first, but then went in to get my brothers and mother. I never saw him again."
"Is that why you became a detective?" Chase's voice came from behind them, causing Silvex' head to snap back towards him. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear." Chase apologized.
"No, you have a right to know." Silvex sighed. "But no, their deaths weren't what made me become a detective. The truth is, someone else's death was."
Chase couldn't help but see the sadness Silvex was feeling at that moment. The great detective couldn't even stop his tears from falling. But despite the overwhelming feelings that the husky must have been feeling, Chase wanted to know the truth. "Who was it?"
"My boyfriend." Silvex said in between sobs. "Or fiancé to be precise."
"I have so many questions right now…" Chase remarked, but before he could ask any of them, Silvex started talking.
"A little over three years ago, my fiancé Axel, left for work and never came back." Silvex explained as he calmed down enough to talk. "I was told that he died in a car crash, but when I looked at his phone's location data, I realized that he wasn't anywhere close to where he worked. When I investigated, I learned that he had never even worked there."
"Wait, what?!" Chase asked surprised.
"Turns out, Axel had been living a secret life behind my back. A life that I knew nothing about." Silvex continued. "I then promised myself that I wouldn't let anyone do that to me again, so I started to investigate everyone I met. Turns out, I was rather good at it."
"Did you ever find out what that secret life was?" Chase asked curiously.
"All I could find was that it had something to do with a classified government project." Silvex replied. "It was referred to as 'BlueWater's heritage', but I never learned what it was."