The bar reeked of sweat, smoke and liquor. The lights flickered lazily, throwing the strangest shadows against the cracked walls. This was the kind of place for low life business men, men liked Deuce Black had no business here, but tonight the man seated wan't Deuce Black.
The man seated was dressed in rough clothes- frayed jeans, a battered jacket, a cap tugged low enough that his face was masked in the dim light. He leaned against the bar, utterly silent, while keeping his eyes on the gang crowded around a table near the back.
Their laughter was too loud, they were shoving each other and spilling beer over the cards spread on the table, cards they barely seemed to care about. Their conversations resounded through the bar, though it was rowdy and incoherent but Deuce was in no hurry. He'd learned patience from watching deadly sharks circle the deep-waiting and waiting, until one eventually slipped.
Then the break he was waiting for came.
One of the gang members, red-faced with drink, placed his glass heavily on the table and pulled a USB stick from his pocket. He flashed it arrogantly like a trophy, waving it in the face of his colleagues.
Deuce rolled his eyes dissatisfactorily. The bar was filled with too much noise, music was too loud, the men's laughter too uncontrolled for him to discreetly plant a bug. He could not listen in on their conversation. That left him with one option, the USB, it had to contain important information about Kruger, what or whoever it was. An idea popped up in his mind.
When their next round of drinks arrived, he leaned towards the bartender, with a low and calm voice while slightly nudging his head towards the men at the back, he said, "On me". And slipped a folded bill across the counter. Even the bartender could not recognise Deuce Black.
The bartender grinned and nodded, he pocketed the cash and poured the drinks. When the bartender turned, Deuce's hand brushed the rim of the tray just long enough to slip a clear drop from the vial in his pocket into the glasses of drinks, he knew it would come in handy. It was colorless, tasteless, enough to fog their minds and slow their steps. He watched the bartender serve the drinks.
Queitly, he waited. Watching them drain their glasses as he counted the minutes.
Shortly after, the gang stumbled towards the exit and Deuce moved. He rose from his stool and smoothly collided with the man that flashed the USB. Shoulders hit, hard enough to feel real, soft enough not to raise any suspicion.
"Watch where you're going." The man growled.
"My fault," Deuce muttered with a dry smile, bowing his head in quick apology. By the time the man brushed past him, the USB was already hidden in Deuce's palm.
He didn't turn back to glance at the gang as they staggerd into the night.
Few hours later, in the calm hum of his workshop, Deuce slid the USB into an encrypted port. His screens flared to life, thousands of text racing across it.
At first glance, the files all looked meaningless with rows of numbers, code names, abbreviations. Deuce was looking at them with experience, his mind already tracing patterns and cross referencing the data with his own archives. Kruger was not an operation, he was the owner of the operation.
Slowly, the files became clearer. This was no ordinary ledger, it was a payroll. Not for soldiers, not for dealers, no individual names listed. This payroll was for various institutions in the city. Deuce froze for a second as his eyes scanned through the names of offices that was supposed to be under various upstanding code.
The mayor's office received almost $200,000 and this was monthly.
The city attorney's office received $500,000. Deuce let out a slight gasp.
Victoria City Police Department- different precincts were lined up and generally, they received $1,000,000.
City council received $300,000.
The list was so long, the fire department was included. For some reason, child care services was involved in this too.
Everywhere in the city, Kruger's money sank it's claws deep into the veins of the city. High profile officers, authority figures, judges, politicians- most of them were paid, owned and automatically silenced.
Deuce sat back in the chair, the illuminated screen refelcted on his face showing the distress lined across his face.
Kruger wasn't running an operation, he was running Victoria city.
This was a huge network, this was more than corruption.
Rachel's death, the ones before her, the cover ups, the missing files- all these started falling into place in Deuce's mind.
Deuce's hands curled into fists.
"If he thinks he owns the city," he muttered, "then I'll burn it all out of him".
Across the city, Jesse White was at his desk in Precinct 21, staring gloomily at a stack of dead ends.
Rachel's case was coming down like a pack of cards, all leads were suddenly vanishing. Witnesses were clamming up and somehow things stopped adding up. He felt like he was chasing a shadow.
He leaned back on his chair and groaned. Every fibre in his body seemed to scream in unision-someone very high up wanted this case buried and forgotten. But even his gut feeling couldn't pass as evidence. Without any proof, all he had was frustration.
Lieutenant Kennedy Maddox glanced over from his office, watching Jesse restlessly tap his fingers against a file on his desk. He stood up walked out of his office to Jesse's desk.
"You're grinding your teeth again," He said.
Jesse exhaled and rubbed his jaw, maybe trying to ease the tension he felt.
"Because nothing about this entire case makes any sense. It's almost as if... every time i push for a lead or to follow a lead, something pushes back and the lead clams up or turns to a brick wall."
Kennedy studied him for a moment, but said nothing.
Deuce's workshop now looked more like a high tech based war room. It was no longer a recluse's retreat.
Drones buzzed softly on the charging pads, blueprints and digital overlays stretched across transparent glass walls. Deuce wasn't stopping now, he was still developing more gadgets and weapons. He worked quietly with precision, bolting pieces together while testing new surveillance rigs.
Silently, he made a vow, similar to the one he made earlier. "If Kruger wants to infect every corner of this city...then I'll be the disease he didn't plan for."
The next morning, Captain Howard Brigss was still in his office cross referencing police reports when the knock came. He spoke before he looked at the door, "Enter".
The door was already open, a tall figure stepped inside. His presence overshadowed the room, it wasn't loud or too imposing but it definitely was undeniable.
"Mr. Black," Briggs said, rising from his chair, his tone tingling with scared surprise. "You were the last person I'd expect to see in this precinct"
Deuce closed the door behind him. Briggs gestured to a seat, but Deuce ignored the gesture and remained standing. His gaze swept the room swiftly and then settled on the Captain.
"I'll be brief. I want to consult for homicide," Deuce said plainly.
Briggss lifted a brow. "You..... want to work here.....with us?"
"Think of it as a partnership, Captain. It's no secret that Victoria city's police department needs help and this precinct has been quite more popular lately due to unsolved cases. I have the resources to cut through the noise and I'm also very observant".
Briggs sat back on his chair and leaned back slowly. For some reason, Deuce sensed some tension in the air for a minute. The captain was analysing the man in front of him, one of the city's most disliked, once accused of murder, he knew that Deuce was innocent,he knew enough to be able to identify a man who has killed before and Deuce has shed no blood. Deuce was innocent, though hated by most of the city, now the man was walking into his office asking to stand by his detectives.
"A generous offer there," Briggs said. "But you have to understand...there are procedures, approvals, the D.A...."
"I'm aware of that," Deuce interrupted and brought out an envelope from the pocket of his coat, he handed it to Captain Briggs. "That is the D.A's approval, i got that this morning"
Briggs was obvioulsy shocked, how did this happen? Deuce smiled, he might have been accused wrongly, hated and despised, shut out for years but he still had those connections, he still had power. Afterall, his companies were still running fully and internationally.
For a moment, there was silence. He read through the letter and then stood up with a polite smile with putting out his hand for a handshake, Deuce accepted the hand.
"Very well". Briggs said finally. "I'll assign you under Lieutenant Kennedy Maddox. He runs the homicide department here at 21, or do you want to partner with crimes?"
Deuce shook his head calmly, "Homicide is fine"
"Great, you'll shadow him and his team. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, then we'll reconsider".
Deuce had barely stepped out of Brigg's office when word spread though the precinct, Police officer did talk. Jesse was already on his feet.
"You have got to be kidding me," Jesse muttered under his breath. He watched as Deuce crossed the bullpen, every step calm, deliberate, like a man walking into his own house.
Kennedy put a steadying hand on Jesse's shoulder, "Easy kid".
"What do you mean 'easy'? They're letting him work homicide?" Jesse hissed. "This is a bad joke".
Deuce recognised Jesse but didn't look at him as he passed, Jesse felt felt the weight of the man's silence.
Kennedy's eyes followed Deuce calmly, thoughtfully yet unreadable.
He leaned closer to Jesse.
"Listen," Kennedy murmured, "I know you dislike the man. Hell, most people do. But don't forget- you've been where he is. Wrongly accused, hated for something you totally didn't do. If i hadn't taken that case from Detective Moran back then, you'd be rotting in prison right now".
Jesse froze momentarily, the memory flashing like lightning. The wrong place, wrong time, cold steel of those hadncuffs. He was only nineteen facing a charge, going down for a crime he didn't commit. And Kennedy, still just a detective then, pulling him back from the brink when no one else cared to look more carefully.
"Keep an open mind Jesse. You owe him that much."
Jesse swallowed hard, saying nothing. His eyes followed Deuce until the man disappeared into Brigg's office again.
That night, the precinct buzzed with uneasy, unending whispers. Some called Deuce a liability. others muttered about his money buying influence. Jesse felt something different entirely- a tension under his skin, like a storm building on the horizon.
He did not trust Deuce Black. Wasn't sure if he could ever trust the man.
Deep down though, in a place he didn't want to admit existed, Jesse wondered if Kennedy was right.
He also wondered if the hooded vigilante that haunted the city's nights was a ally or an enemy.
He sighed and packed up his things, his shift was over.