A/N: Well, it's not the happiest of chapters, but this is just a short note to wish all my readers a Happy New Year
It was a new year, but instead of ringing it in with hope and cheer, the Rangers were greeting it with sadness.
The city itself had toasted the turning of the New Year, but by now, the news had broken of the murder of Mayor Mason Truman, the Hero of Corinth. Scott didn't really resent the celebrations, but they had been a lot more subdued this year, since they were timed around the same time as the death of the man that had led the world to victory over Venjix, leading it to a new dawn as they prepared to rebuild the world from scratch.
Scott came into the main room, finding the Samurai and RPM Rangers already dressed for the funeral. It was taken as being for the best that as soon as the forensic tests were complete, they would simply get the funeral over with, to prevent the city dwelling too long on the tragic and senseless crime. The military had paid for everything, so even the Samurai had been outfitted with formal attire for the event.
Jayden and Dr. K got up, heading over to Scott as he straightened out his jacket in preparation for the event. He was wearing his air force dress uniform for the occasion. Although it had been some time since he had actively served in Eagle Squadron, it just felt right on this day.
"It gets easier." Jayden assured him. He had been only six when he attended his own father's funeral. He didn't really understand the occasion at the time, it seemed like a bizarre thing to behold, but even though he was a child, he could remember every detail of it.
"Thank you." Scott whispered. He then looked to the others. "It's time."
With that, they all slowly filed out of the Garage, heading to the park.
In another part of the city, a limousine was arriving by the memorial park. Rolling to a stop, the door opened and Benny got out, followed closely by his employer, the most feared man in Corinth.
He wasn't much in and of himself. He was old, overweight, and he very obviously wore a wig, but anyone who hadn't been living under a rock knew exactly who Robert Taylor was. He was Fresno Bob, the figurehead of the Scorpion Cartel.
When people fled to Corinth, they had brought their vices with them. While freelance criminals did exist, it was mostly small stuff like burglary and vandalism. The major crimes, prostitution, drug traffic and manufacture, protection and the like were run by the cartels. It was a profitable business. With only one city, and very few criminals to compete against, the cartels had quickly established a tight grip on things. Unfortunately, it also meant that for a long time there was competition for control, competition that quickly got very, very messy.
It was the heads of the cartels who got together and brokered a deal to prevent them tearing each other apart. The Southtown Sweet Tooths, the Yo Yo Brothers, the Blue Crew, Spike Mike's Mob, and the Scorpion Cartel had carved the city into little fiefdoms that were large enough for them to be profitable, but also no larger than each of them had the manpower to protect. If someone popped a squat in another's territory, he was sent back in a body bag, that much was understood. So far, the system had worked out for the best. All of the cartels were profitable, inter-gang violence was minimal, and because the streets weren't running red with blood, the military had either been bought, threatened or otherwise blinded to their operations.
Bob was not a happy man. He liked it when things ran smoothly. He didn't like complications, everything worked in a balance. Truman understood that. While he wanted to take down the cartels, he also knew that there was little he could do to break their influence completely. His streets were not a warzone, so with the exception of the odd token arrest when someone got careless, he accepted the power of the cartels as a necessary evil. Corinth was only designed to sustain a population of around three million, but on the day the shields went up, there were already eight million citizens. To say that the stretching of resources led to frustration and ill feeling would be an understatement.
He stopped at the gate for a cursory search from a soldier on duty. Truman's funeral was to be held in the park within the hour. He was going to be laid to rest at the foot of the memorial to the First Battle of Corinth, as was appropriate for the man who had sealed the victory in that occasion. He wasn't carrying any weapons, and he knew none of the others would be either, that was why he had chosen here to meet with them. If one of the cartel bosses had broken the treaty, then they were in no hurry to risk that they would betray a meeting to discuss the matter of the murder that could easily lead to the end of the peace that had existed between them for years.
He made his way into the park, finding a small group of men waiting for him.
Maximillion "Maxie" Carlyle, the head of the Southtown Sweet Tooths was standing in a tan suit, holding a brown paper bag full of confectionery, his hand straying into it to fetch out a sugary treat. It was the very mannerism that had led to the name of his organisation. While others would occasionally joke about this, and insinuate that they were infantile, few would dare to cross them on their own territory. He was a rotund man, even larger than Bob, with a slightly red, bloated, jowly face, and small, rectangular glasses. He had a couple of heavies with him for support, two men that despite the bags of sweets they were carrying, looked like they were more than ready for action.
Ronan, the head of the Blue Crew, was standing to his right, wearing a very sharp, white tuxedo. He was a dark skinned man, with a good, stocky, healthy build, and his hair styled into cornrows. His eyes were shielded by mirrored, rayband sunglasses. He too had a couple of enforcers with him, lest the occasion called for action.
Spike Mike was next to him, and seemed as uneasy in Ronan's presence as he did in his. The Blue Crew and Spike Mike's mob had been at war for years before the Venjix war had destroyed everything, and both had long memories. He was wearing a red silk shirt, and suit pants. His hair was styled into long, unkempt dreadlocks that hung like tentacles around his chiselled face. He was a tall, lanky man, towering above the others at nearly 6' 8", and very pale skinned. He had two enforcers with him, dressed in stylish shirts.
The last two, and the only ones not to arrive with any form of back-up, were the Yo Yo Brothers, Eddie and Clyde. The least prominent of all the cartels, the Yo Yo Brothers made their reputation through aptitude and taste for violence. At one time, they had been cage fighters, highly successful in the MMA circuit before the Venjix War. They had turned that talent to good use, assembling a small, though talented band of like-minded thugs who had a reputation for lack of subtlety, and heavy-handed extortion. They had too much talent to simply be ignored, and so despite their small numbers, were considered equal to the others, and held their own territory. Eddie was the taller of the two by a couple of inches, and had short, blonde hair. His brother was red-headed and freckled, with a slightly misshapen nose, the result of one of his early brawls. Both of them were well-built, and also dressed formally as the occasion demanded.
Benny stood behind Bob, his arms folded before him. Bob looked around the others.
"You've landed us all in a fine pile of shit now Bob." Maxie commented. "You ghosted Truman?"
"That was nothing to do with me." Bob answered flatly as he took a drag of his cigar. "Although you are awfully quick to make accusations, if I didn't know any better..."
"Do you think I'm brain dead?" He sneered. "My business was running nicely while he was around. Since that little stunt you pulled, the military have been breathing down my neck! My guys have been strong-armed all day because of you!"
"I said, I didn't do it!" Bob reiterated a little more aggressively, taking a step forward. All the men looked a little nervous, and the muscle all looked to be preparing for the powder keg to be lit. "I have lost thousands already because of this! The military wants my ass on a plate!"
"We only have your word for it Bob." Ronan stated, removing his glasses. "The way I see it..."
"I don't give a damn how you see it Ronan!" Bob warned him coldly. "It wasn't anyone in my organisation. If it was, they'd already be buried in the wasteland. Truman's death is bad for business. I want to know who did it, and I want to know now!"
"You needn't look over here." Eddie assured him. "My guys may like a ruck, but this is way more heat than any of them would want to face. They all know that."
"If it was anyone from my firm, I'd know about it." Ronan told them. "They'd have to hope the military found them before I did."
"You're awfully quiet Mike." Maxie commented. "Anyone would think you're up to something."
"Don't you all see? This doesn't make any sense." He told them. "We all know we had it pretty good. Our businesses were running fine until this happened. Now Truman's gone, Corinth Military's out for blood! None of us would have been dumb enough to put a hit out on Truman."
"So who do you think did it then? The Tooth Fairy?" Ronan scoffed in response. Ronan just glared at him.
"There have been rumours of a new player in town for a while." He stated. "Even you don't have your head far enough up your own arse not to have heard that!"
"Watch what you say Mike!" Ronan hissed as his men came forward. Benny just interjected himself between both sides. Even with his girth, everyone backed away slowly. He was a monster of a man, and while he had put on a considerable amount of weight in his old age, he was an underworld legend. Bob only needed Benny as back up for a reason, everyone knew what he was capable of.
"We're being watched, remember?" Bob reminded them, his eyes flicking in the direction of patrolling soldiers. "After what happened, they'd love an excuse to take all of us out right now! So stop the pissing contest before you get us all killed!"
"So what do you propose?" Maxie asked him. "This is getting us nowhere."
"I suggest that we find who did this and deal with it." Bob told them. "The military need to get this guy, and I for one would rather it happened before we're all joining Truman in the ground."
The others all turned and headed off in different directions, leaving Bob and Benny behind. Fresno Bob finished his cigar, dropping it on the ground and crushing it out with his expensive designer shoe.
"We're against the wall now Benny." He told him. "We're the most powerful cartel, but you know as well as I do if the others unite..."
"I think you're more likely to see me winning a Nobel Prize than Ronan and Spike Mike burying the hatchet." Benny interrupted him. Bob just nodded.
"You have a point." He replied. "Come on."
"Where are you going?" Benny asked him, noticing that they were heading away from the limo. Bob just looked back to him.
"We have a funeral to attend." He answered. "A good man is dead. I want to pay my respects."
Elsewhere in the park, the ceremony was already underway. Dr. K held Scott's hand as he stood by the coffin, which was covered by Old Glory. The minister was just coming to the end of his speech.
"And so, we wish you safe passage on your journey." He stated. "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
A soldier took the flag off the coffin and carefully folded it as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave. Nearby, some soldiers in dress uniform fired off the first volley of a 21 gun salute as the horn played, bidding Mason Truman farewell. Scott stood resolutely, unable to act as he just watched him being lowered into the earth.
Summer moved first, taking a handful of soil from the minister, and tossing it into the grave. Flynn did likewise, at which Scott just nodded in acknowledgement, before doing the same. Jayden placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you." Scott whispered to the minister.
"He was a good man." The minister replied. "The city will miss him."
Just then, Flynn tapped Summer on the arm and pointed. She, Dillon and Ziggy all looked up as they saw Fresno Bob approaching the grave, carrying some lilies.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding." Dillon gasped.
"Who's that?" Mike asked.
"It's Fresno Bob." Ziggy told them. "One of the most dangerous gangsters in Corinth."
"Wait, wasn't he the one...?" Ziggy just nodded to confirm the question that Emily couldn't bring herself to ask. Scott was talking to Dr. K, but he turned and saw Bob kneeling by the grave, placing down the lilies.
"Scott..."
Dr. K wasn't fast enough to stop him though. Scott pulled away from her, striding over to the old gangster purposefully. Fresno Bob stood up as he saw him.
"Scott..."
His words were cut off as Scott punched him as hard as he could in the face, sending him falling to the ground. Benny shoved him back.
"It's not enough you killed him, you have to come here and gloat?" Scott snarled.
Benny helped Bob up, at which he pulled out a handkerchief and started to mop blood from his broken nose. He gestured to Benny that he was alright.
"Your old man was a good man. I respected him." Fresno Bob told him. "I know you're upset, and because of that, I'll let this slide."
"You really don't want to threaten me!" Scott replied, trying to go for him again, only to be held back by Dillon and Flynn. Fresno Bob just looked him in the eye.
"I had nothing to do with this, but you can rest assured, I am looking for whoever did this." The Crime Boss told him. "If I find him first, he will suffer before the end. I can promise you that."
"Get out of here Bob." Dillon warned him.
"I don't want to cause trouble." He replied looking back to the grave and bowing his head reverently. "I just came to pay my respects."
"Bull!" Scott snapped. Fresno Bob just looked at him.
"Believe what you will." He replied. "Truman may have been a lot of things, but he was a man I respected. He didn't deserve this, and I guarantee you this won't stand."
As they started to walk away, Ziggy ran over, grabbing Benny's sleeve. The massive man turned, seeing the Green Ranger. He had taken Ziggy under his wing when he first joined the Scorpion Cartel, showing him the ropes. He liked the little guy.
"Benny, you've never lied to me." Ziggy told him. "Please, tell me he had nothing to do with this."
Benny just shook his head. He could never lie to Ziggy; they had been friends far too long.
"No, he didn't." Benny assured him. "God help whoever was if Bob finds him."
With that, he and Benny walked away. Summer came round in front of Scott as the others all surrounded him.
"Scott..."
"Why did you stop me?" He interrupted her. "That son of a bitch..."
"Scott, he's a lot of things, but he's not a liar!" Ziggy told him. "I worked with the guy for years. He can't lie to me, I'd see right through it."
"Ziggy..."
"If Benny says that Bob didn't order this, then you can take that as gospel." Ziggy told him.
"Just leave it to us." Hicks told him. "Scott, let the military handle it."
Scott just turned and stormed away, followed closely by Dr. K. Summer looked to Hicks sadly.
"We'll take care of him." She assured him. "Just...find him."
At that, the others all left the side of the grave, leaving Hicks and Vasquez behind.
Meanwhile, in another part of town, an attractive Asian woman walked into a bar; looking around, before seeing the man in white sitting in a shady corner, shadow hiding his face. She made her way over, taking a seat by him.
"Nice work at the hospital Mia." He told her, sliding an envelope across the table. "I trust this will satisfy you as a reward for services rendered."
This dimension's Mia had been working for him as an assassin for a while now; he always paid well for services rendered. Her power over air made her well suited to the task. Just like at the hospital, she could cause a person to suffocate without any need for a garrotte or anything else that leave forensic evidence. Indeed, she hadn't even needed to touch the victim. She looked to the money in the envelope and smiled. She didn't bother to count it, she didn't need to. Her boss always paid more than he agreed anyway, kind of his way of ensuring she was happy to keep working for him.
"The military's been very active as of late." He told her. "As I expected, they've been raiding cartel properties all day. I am perfectly confident that things will escalate soon."
"So that's the plan." She replied with a little smirk. "You want to start a war..."
"And when the dust settles, I'll swoop in and pick up what's left of the city." He concluded. "To that end, I have another job for you."
With that, he slid a photograph across the table. She picked it up, and let out a little whistle as she saw who it was.
"It's not going to be easy." She told him, looking up. "It'll be expensive."
"I can afford it." The man in white assured her. "Just call me when you're done."
"Keep your phone close." She told him, getting up from the table and leaving. The man in white lit up another cigar and sat back with a smile on his face. Everything was working out exactly as he wanted.