Warnings: Swearing.

15. A Crooked Number

Yusei took a chance and stopped by the Neo Domino Journal office as his first stop.

He stopped by the desk of a woman who looked like an administrative assistant. "Can you tell me where I might find Carly Nagisa?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "To your right. Just follow the sound of sobbing."

Yusei frowned a little. He knew just how Carly felt, so he bit his lip against the scathing comeback that was fighting against it.

"Hi, Carly?" he said. "You might recognize me. I'm a teammate of—"

"Oh, you're on Jack's team! It's r-really n-nice of you t-to—" she broke down into a fresh bout of crying, reaching for a box of tissues on her desk. "I'm s-so sorry. I've b-been crying all d-day."

"It's OK. The whole team's pretty shocked. You should have seen us."

Hell, you should have seen me, he thought. Or, then again, maybe not.

"Uh," he continued. "Jack mentioned something about your writing some sort of article about Don Piero and the whole gambling scene, but he didn't remember much about it."

"Yeah, right," she said glumly. "The whole thing's in today's paper. It's actually under the main writer's byline. I just did a lot of the research. Honestly, after what happened, I wish I had nothing to do with it."

"You don't believe—"

"Of course not!"

"You know they say they have video."

"I don't care if they have DNA. Or a signed confession. Jack wouldn't do that."

Yusei smiled a tiny, sad smile. At least there are a couple of people who believe in him. I hope we count for enough. "Carly, would you give me your research?"

"It's all yours. Just don't tell my boss you have it. I don't care if I get fired for it right now." She looked around carefully, then slipped a flash drive into Yusei's hand. "This is everything I've got. Good luck!"

Yusei stepped away from her desk then stopped a moment and turned around.

I hope I don't regret this …

"Hey, Carly, do you mind? Could you take lunch with me? I'm in a little bit of a hurry. I mean, the Series starts tomorrow and—"

"You want the shorthand version?"

"I want to help Jack if I can."

"I'm out of here." She gave him a smile. "It's not like I'm doing anyone any good here today anyway. Meet you out front in five."

"Carly, you're the best."

True to her word, Carly appeared just outside the building in almost exactly five minutes. The two ducked into a reporters' hangout that was almost literally two steps away.

"You really think you can help Jack?" Carly asked over her diet Pepsi.

"If I get the right info. So what's the gist of this scoop you have?"

"Oh, right. The low-down is that Don Piero has been quietly putting down bets against the Dragons for weeks. Plus, he's been putting down some odd side wagers for the Series. Things like under-innings and so on."

"Under-innings?"

"That's where he wins if the player plays less than the agreed number of innings."

"Did you get the name?"

"No, but it was—Oh. It was big."

"It was Jack. Had to be."

Carly sighed. "How could I not have seen this coming?"

"You knew Jack was clean, Carly. Of course you thought it was going to be fine. So … What else do you know about the operation? Any contacts? Do they have any insiders in the Dragons organization?"

"It was really hard to get anyone to talk openly, but there were a lot of folks who got wind of what was going down but were cut out of the main action. They were pretty miffed that they weren't privy to what was going on. But there were a couple who knew of some strange things that were happening. There was this new guy who Don Piero had brought on recently. A lot of his men were pretty bent out of shape about it."

"Do you know anything about him?"

"I wish I knew more. They said that Don Piero had brought him in from Satellite for some special operation and that some bigwig had dragged him in off the street. Apparently he's just a street tough."

"So why the resentment?"

"Well, Don Piero didn't put him to work learning the ropes. He put him up at a hotel and had him lay low. He's been there most of the summer. Apparently hardly anyone's even seen him. I thought I'd tracked him down once, but they'd gotten wise and changed hotels on me."

"Any luck finding out who the bigwig is?"

"No, not yet. But word is he's connected to sports and doesn't want his name out. Current conjecture is that it's Jack, of course, but naturally, that's a crock. He only contacts Don Piero by phone. —And I bet it's not his own phone. Does any of this help you at all?"

"Maybe. It helps confirm some of my suspicions. Could you tell me where to find Don Piero's men?"

"They hang out a lot at a bar called Tumbling Dice in Old Domino district. If you want to go there—be careful."

"You got it. Thanks, Carly. I mean, really, you don't know."

"No, I should thank you. I haven't even heard from Jack yet. I've left a ton of messages for him … You don't know how worried I am."

Suddenly Yusei felt sick with guilt. But he couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity.

"If you see Jack, could you get him to call?" Carly continued.

"I'll sure try," Yusei said. "I'll bet he's just—just too embarrassed to call and doesn't want to throw all that misery on your doorstep."

"Yeah, I'll bet that's it."

Carly hugged Yusei tightly before he left.

Jeez, I feel like a heel, he thought.

Yusei stopped off at his house and grabbed a small overnight bag. He grabbed an outfit out of the back of his closet and tossed it in along with a little case that he kept on the high shelf.

I wondered why I bothered to keep these … now I know.

He stopped for just a second to tap a number into his cell.

Hi, it's Jack. Leave a message and I'll call you back.

"Jack, it's Yusei. Call me."

He scowled, wanting to throw the phone against the wall, but what if Jack called back? He wanted to say so much more to Jack, but phones were so easily hacked! And now people had so much reason to do it to Jack.

He jumped into his car and stopped at a small motel next to the seedy bar that was his ultimate destination. He just didn't want to be seen leaving the house like this.

He completed the transformation in record time and walked into the bar. It was a worn-out place, but had televisions running various sports feeds.

"Hey, Good-lookin', buy you a drink?" asked a well-worn fireplug of a man.

Resisting the urge to turn him down flat, Yusei smiled and sat carefully on a stool next to him at the bar.

He smothered a sigh. What I do for love. He looked into the man's eyes, batting the long eyelashes that he's applied very carefully. Even more carefully, he crossed his legs, smoothing the miniskirt to ensure that nothing telltale was revealed and that his legs were shown off to full advantage.

He hated cross-dressing. It was one of the main reasons that he had broken up with his previous boyfriend. The guy was positively addicted to seeing Yusei in dresses! But he thought that this would be the quickest and most effective way to get the information he wanted.

And he knew he was pretty unrecognizable as long as he did his hair right.

"So, what's your name and what do you want, sweetie?"

"Just call me Yolanda. I'll have a pina colada if that's OK."

"More than OK, Yolanda." He pronounced the made-up name excessively, as though to memorize it. "What a pretty name."

"Thanks. What's yours?"

"Frank."

"Hi Frank. Are you as straightforward as your name?"

The man laughed. "Sometimes I'm accused of that!"

One of the televisions above the bar started running news about Jack's suspension. A video of one of Jack's previous press conferences played with a crawl that he couldn't be located currently.

Where are you, Jack? Yusei thought.

"You like baseball?" asked Frank with a little interest.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan," Yusei said, brightening her smile. Then he let it slip a little. "I was a big fan of Jack Atlas. Do you think what they're saying is really true?"

Frank smiled. "A little birdie told me that he was set up."

Yusei steeled himself mentally and sent out all the positive body language he could muster: wide open eyes with fluttering lashes, his painted lips in an oh, his hand reaching forward to touch Frank's wrist lightly. "Really? They say they have video. They still haven't shown much of it, but—"

"Video?!" Frank exclaimed. "Don't make me laugh! Doesn't matter what it is when you've got what they've got."

"What do you mean?"

"They have a ringer."

"Really?" he said with a slight excess of awe. You're brilliant to know this, Mister! "How do you know?"

"I've seen'im. Better than that, I know where they've got'im stashed."

"Nah!"

"No, I do! Come out with me, baby, and I'll take you by there."

Are you kidding? That easy?

"You've got yourself a deal, Frank. I can't believe there's a guy who looks just like Jack Atlas."

Well, that at least was true. He couldn't believe there was a guy who looked like Jack Atlas.

"Let's get going, Yolanda."

The knocking just didn't stop.

"All right, all ready! I'm coming!" Kiryu threw the door open without even bothering to look through the peephole for once. Probably not the best idea with such relentless pounding, but still …

"Jack?"

"Kiryu? Can I come in?"

Kiryu, who'd been standing flat-footed in shock at seeing his best friend standing on his doorstep frazzled and in uncharacteristic disarray, started and said, "Uh, sure, of course, Jack, come in! Come in! You're the last person I expected to see today."

"I … I just didn't know who … I—shit, Kiryu, I could sure use a friend just about now."

"Yeah, I bet you could use a beer, too."

"Wait, Kiryu," Jack said, standing in the entryway. "Could we … if it's not too much trouble, could you help me train today?"

"Train? Today? After what happened?"

"Yeah. I don't have anyone to catch for me, you see, or hit fungoes, or throw batting practice."

"Seriously? You want to do the whole routine like nothing happened?"

"As close as I can, then I'll take you up on the beer. OK, Kiryu? It'll make me feel better." He reached out and grabbed Kiryu's upper arm. "Seriously. My stuff's outside."

Kiryu looked out into the drive. "You rode your monowheel over? Isn't that against your contract?"

"I'm allowed to ride it in the off season and, as far as they're concerned, my season's over. So fuck it, if I get hurt today, they don't care."

"Jack …" Kiryu sighed. "All right. I'll get dressed and pull my stuff together. It'll be good to get a little exercise. It's not like I had anything planned for today. But … that stuff they said, seriously, it's not true." It wasn't a question.

"'Course not"

"Good. I figured they'd trumped things up somehow."

"But proving it?" Jack's voice nearly cracked in frustration.

"It'll all come out."

"Not before tomorrow. I can't pitch, Kiryu! It's the Series!"

"I get it, believe me. I know how hard you've worked."

"Yeah …"

"Anyway, I'll get ready and meet you around back. Go ahead and use the guest room."

"Thanks, Kiryu, you're a real friend. I'll grab my stuff."

In a few minutes they were in Kiryu's back yard warming up. Jack did as full a routine as he could manage, including lifting some weights down in Kiryu's mini-gym.

After he'd warmed down, Jack said, "Thanks, Kiryu, that really helped. I think I'll have that beer now."

"Yeah, I bet you could use it. Sit yourself down in the living room and I'll be right back."

"Yeah, thanks, Kiryu."

Kiryu reappeared with two beers quickly, handing Jack one. "So, all you wanted to talk about was the season and pitching. You never really said what happened back there. What's the story?" he asked. "I thought you'd be in a confab with your agent right about now."

Jack took a swallow of beer and said, "I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"Godwin? He's one of the best."

"I'm not sure he's for me, but I won't say why just now."

Kiryu shrugged. "You know him better than I do. There was word about a video? They haven't released it yet."

"Yeah. I've seen it. It's … I can't explain it. Some kind of impostor. It's uncanny."

"Really? Two … of you? I'm not sure the world can take that, Jack."

"You and me both, Kiryu."

"Well, I'm not sure beer will do it for this circumstance. If you think it'll help to get drunk, I can definitely make it happen," Kiryu said with a rueful smile.

Jack sighed. "I'm considering it."

"You know …" Kiryu said thoughtfully, taking a sip from his bottle, "I would have thought you'd be spending time with Carly today instead of working out like everything was normal. You know, getting your ego and spirit revived?"

Jack sighed. Carly. "Kiryu … you know how important baseball is to me."

"But what if this is it?"

"Yeah, I know! What if! Don't you think that's occurred to me?" Jack stopped himself, calming his agitation and sighing again. Then he said, "My whole life's falling apart."

"All the more reason."

"That's why I'm with my best friend."

"And not your girlfriend. You're a strange guy, Jack." Kiryu frowned. "Remember back in middle school?"

"I try to forget those days."

"Your first girlfriend."

Jack groaned. "That was a disaster. All the guys at the orphanage? It was ridiculous."

"They were living vicariously through you. The way all the girls started running after you?"

"They practically pushed me into—you know." Jack blushed at the memory. "It's why I left. Well, it was one of the reasons."

"I still think you were overreacting."

"It was traumatic."

"Please!" Kiryu started to laugh, then looked at Jack. "You're serious."

"Yes, I am."

Kiryu leaned back. "I don't know about you, Jack. You've always been squirrely when it comes to your girlfriends. You'd think that you weren't really into—shit." He leaned forward again, staring at Jack. "You really aren't into them, are you, Jack?"

Jack froze for a second, then said slowly, "No, I guess I'm not." He glanced up at Kiryu and then stared at his bottle. Damn, empty.

"Well, gee, Jack! I feel like a fool! How many girls did I set you up with? … Shit. I should have known, the way you were so exacting about having sex with your girlfriends, all prim and proper-like—and for a guy who practically has girls throwing themselves at him, too … And then, you'd disappear randomly on weekends—I thought it was a gambling thing … Gah! Now it all makes sense!"

"You-You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"For being the way I am—For not telling you!"

"Jack … think of all the crap we went through together growing up in Satellite. I'd be garbage myself if I threw all that away. But as for not telling me … sure, I wish you had, but … damn, I see how it is. What kind of friend would I be if I made it harder on you? Especially today?" He shrugged, getting up. "I'm getting us more beer. Wait, maybe I should get out the Scotch."

"I can't believe you're—Never mind. Thanks, Kiryu."

"For what?"

"For being OK with it. You don't know how … I've wanted to tell you for years, Kiryu, but I couldn't risk losing my best friend."

"Jack, you haven't changed into someone else. We're still friends as far as I'm concerned." He brought a couple of glasses and a bottle over. Setting the glasses down and pouring, he asked, "No wonder you were all wound up over Carly last time we talked. You were talking about wanting to find a perfect match. Huh. I guess Carly wouldn't be that person. Not for you, anyway. But have you met anyone? Somebody that you think you really can click with, that is?"

A wan smile made its way onto Jack's face. "Actually, I think I have found somebody. Somebody special."

"Can you say who it is?"

"I want to get his permission to say first. He's in sports too, you see."

"Is it—no, don't tell me, I shouldn't ask if it's someone on your team." He handed Jack a glass. "To the two of you—and to whoever it is who set you up getting what's coming to him! How about that?" Kiryu proposed.

"I'll drink to that."

"You want another drink before we go up?" asked Frank.

"No, let's save it for later, when we go out on the town."

"You don't mind if I do—"

"Not at all."

Frank took a swig out of an old-fashioned hip flask and started up the stairs. Yusei followed.

On the second floor, they walked down a dingy corridor to room 212, where Frank knocked on the door.

"Godwin, is that you? It's about time you—" The door opened and someone who looked startlingly like Jack Atlas scowled down at them. "Frank? Do I need to pack? But wait, you know you're not supposed to bring anyone around! Who the hell are you?" His gaze softened a little. "I could make an exception, though. You're a looker. C'mon in."

Yusei stepped in. "We can stay a minute or two, right, Frank?"

"Y-yeah, I guess."

"I want to hear about this scheme."

Jack's double scowled a little at that. "You're not in on it."

"Aw, c'mon, don't be that way! When's the last time you had any fun?" Yusei cringed a little inside. He was so like Jack, but at the same time so unlike him that the creep factor was sky high. "What's your name?"

Frank growled. "Yolanda, I think—"

Jack's double pushed Frank into a chair. "I think you should leave Yolanda alone. My name's Jason. Jason Prince."

Yusei sat down on the bed and looked into his eyes. They were violet-ish, but there was red in them. Weird. "So what's the story?"

He shrugged. "This guy—"

"Godwin."

"Yeah, Godwin. He came by one day and just … stared at me. He said he might have a job one day for me and hired me on the spot. Put me on retainer, he said."

"Retainer?"

"Yeah. He paid me just to stay in touch. That was, huh, a couple of years ago now."

Just before Jack was drafted. Godwin sure thinks ahead …

"So I just take the money. Money for calling in every so often? I can handle that. Then one day I see a sports page and I put two and two together. I guess that there's a reason he's interested in me."

"Yeah, because you look almost exactly like Jack Atlas. I bet you don't pitch like him, though."

"I bet I don't. But I sound like him. Mostly."

"But why—"

"Why did Godwin pull the trigger? Don't ask me. I'm just pulling down a paycheck. I'm waiting for the cash and a ticket outta here. You're gonna have to ask him why he's killing the goose that lays the golden eggs."

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good hunch on that one. Hey, Frank? Let's get out of here."

"Aw, c'mon babe! Stay the night!"

Frank popped out of his chair. "Great! Bye, Jase!"

As they rounded a corner into the parking lot, Yusei said, "I'm really sorry about this, Frank. You've been really great."

"Sorry? About what?"

"This!" Yusei said, bringing down a karate chop on the back of his neck. Frank went down like a sack of potatoes. Yusei extracted Frank's car keys and pulled out his own phone. He called the police. "Hey, police? I have the address of an impostor for you. There's a guy who impersonated Jack Atlas? Part of a gambling ring? Yes. Here's the address …"

He gave the details as he headed towards Frank's car. Then he headed back towards his own, looking up Jack at a red light.

Don't go to voice mail again!

"Jack's phone. He says he doesn't want to talk now. Got a message?"

"Who's this?" Someone honked behind him, prodding Yusei to step on the gas. He wouldn't have gone to see an old boyfriend, would he?

"Kiryu. Who's this?"

Yusei sighed in relief and relaxed a little. Then he tensed again. "Put him on. Now."

"Who is this?"

"Yusei! His teammate!"

There was a little conversation in the background and then, "Yusei, hi."

"Why aren't you answering your messages? Never mind. I don't care. Are you drinking? Stop!"

"What-What's going on?"

"I found the guy who impersonated you and—damn! You wouldn't believe it! He looks just like you. You could be twins."

"For all I know, we could be. After all, I am an orphan."

"Huh. Anyway, I've called in the cops and I'm on my way to Godwin's." He grinned to himself. "After I duplicate the recording I made of Prince's confession."

"Recording? Prince?"

"Yeah, that's what he calls himself. Jason Prince."

"Sheesh. I'll meet you at Godwin's."

"You've been drinking?" Yusei said skeptically.

"I'll have Kiryu drive me."

"Wait—"

But Jack had hung up. Wasn't Kiryu drinking with him?

Crap! A stoplight. He had to concentrate on his own driving.

Author's notes:

Well ... I feel like I'm just getting started getting my feet wet with action-y stuff. I guess there was a little tiny bit in Satisfaction, but somehow it feels like it's a little more intense through this section. Hope you don't mind helping me practice writing this stuff. It still feels a little stiff and rough coming out.

Title: When you "hang a crooked number," you put up a score of more than 0 or 1 on the scoreboard for the inning. "Crooked" refers to the actual physical appearance of the number.

under-innings: I made this up, but considering that people bet on anything and everything, I'll bet that they bet on this, though they might call it something else. ;)

Kiryu: I'm thinking he is by far the most OOC character in this story. First, he's straight even though I think he's probably actually the most likely to be gay, certainly of Team Satisfaction. Then I've made him Jack's best friend, which probably isn't the most likely combo (although I like it as a refreshing variation), and here he is readily accepting of Jack not confiding a huge secret like this in him ... hm. Interesting, but is it Kiryu? Maybe the kinder, gentler version? I feel like I've kind of made him fit the story rather than allowing the story to fit itself around him. Feel free to comment as you care to!

Doppel-Jack: A play on Yliaster's Jack-bot double.

Aaaand, next time:

All the color drained from Godwin's face. Swiftly, he reached behind him on the table and produced a pistol, which he leveled at Yusei. "Hand over that phone," he said.

Things get serious.