Evening air didn't help with the smell. The car port was cluttered with broken auto parts, trash, beer bottles, cigarettes, and other miscellaneous junk.
Three men sat around a round black plastic table. Cigars burned and were placed in an ash tray. One specifically smelled of marijuana. Out of the three, one had dressed modestly enough to not get dirty looks in public. Of course, it was Derek.
In their hands, they held under a dozen cards. Spades, hearts, diamonds, clubs. A king or queen here or there. Derek threw out a two of clubs in the middle of the table. A king of hearts then entered the center followed by a five of diamonds.
Derek collected his book of cards.
"That shootout the other day on West 24th... what was that all about?" Derek asked as he threw out a three of spades.
The heavyset bearded light skinned man on Derek's right that had bags under his eyes, and a receding hairline tossed an eight of spades.
On his wrist were two gold bracelets. "Boy saw one of the double N's. He would've ignored him, but that guy was the same one who fucked his sister and got with another bitch the next week."
"Ricky, I fucking told you..." The dark-skinned man on the left of Derek massaged the bridge of his nose, forgetting it was his turn. A gold earring swayed back and forth.
"I can't control him, Jamie. I'm surprised the idiot is still alive." Ricky motioned for him to continue the game. Jamie threw out an ace of diamonds. Ricky collected.
"Either kick him out or beat his ass. We don't need low impulse brats starting shit wherever they see an opposite color or remember something petty." Derek slid a card to the middle and took a sip of beer.
"Our focus is on selling and providing for the community. The only hostility we have with the Neon Nobles is who's product sells more."
"Speaking of which, who's that man you met with a few weeks ago?" Jamie glanced at Derek while tossing a card out.
"Just a generous donor." Derek replied and took his turn.
"Thanks to him, the cops haven't been as much of a problem as usual."
A number of these small robberies have been by Big Foot and Little J. Did they get something that only they can use or are they just the guys who'll take the fall if anything goes sideways? Jamie contemplated.
"I'm supposed to meet with him again in two weeks. I'll see if we can get a couple more." Derek refrained from mentioning exactly what this mysterious individual had given him.
~
On the corner of 38 Collins Drive was a faded grey house, its windows boarded up haphazardly, so the moonlight still penetrated a few cracks.
The back porch had giant holes in the floor and loose boards hanging off. An edge of the roof threatened to collapse.
At the front door, the sound of wood splintering was muffled until a snap rang out. Kicking open the door, Azhir and Abby invaded, eyes examining the old wood floorboards, the tiny glass shards under the windowsills.
"And you're certain he's been here?" Azhir doubted.
"The place may look abandoned but that's the perfect cover, isn't it? Who besides us would look, especially given that entry can't happen so easily." Abby unhooked a flashlight from her belt and beamed it around. She glanced at Azhir.
"Did you...?"
"The moonlight is enough for me to make out the room."
Nevertheless, Abby took the lead and walked forward. Azhir stayed on her heels, eyes wandering to walls stained with mold. Above, plants were beginning to grow through the crevasses.
"This place was boarded up around a year ago by the police. They shut it down because of gang activity. In reality, it only knocked this place off the radar, so it's perfect for a part-time drug house." Abby and Azhir passed a broken window, one that wasn't boarded up.
Each step they took up the stairs, the wood strained, threatening to fall in. Azhir's ears perked up. A truck? A van? They're going away now but... they drove strangely close... and why did they slow down around the front of the house?
Arriving on the second floor, Abby shone the light at a few materials. A couple of empty syringes with broken barrels lay on the floor, empty along with blood stained cloth swabs.
"Recent?" Azhir squinted his eyes.
"There were two. I'm guessing he decided to apply for a third." Abby searched around the mess.
"Whose territory is this?
"Belongs to the Neon Nobles. A few members of the gang actually attend college though they keep a somewhat low profile and try not to draw too much attention to themselves."
"You know their identities?"
"A few that are worth noting but they haven't acted rashly. One even seemed to be coming onto me."
I sort of pity that guy. Azhir's ears perked up again. He heard grass being crushed underfoot and the light tap of shoes against concrete.
From the small mechanical clinks, he determined that this group was armed.
"Five or six below." Azhir spoke in a whisper then the hum of the engine made him reconsider.
"Seven or eight."
"Cowardly." Abby drew her firearm.
Not cowardly. This is efficiency. Azhir shook his head. They aren't worth it. You stay right where you are. Azhir wasn't looking at Abby as he gave a command inside his head. He drew his pistol and took point.
Downstairs, multiple lights scanned the room. Some of the men held guns at the ready, others kept theirs to the side. All had their fingers in the trigger guard. Was this a trap? It would make sense if the representative knew we were in the area and convinced the gangs that we're an enemy. Azhir sniffed, mapping out each man's scent.
Leaping down the stairs, Azhir ducked as the gangsters rushed over and started shooting. A volley of gunfire tore through wood and struck the backyard.
A couple bullets grazed his face as Azhir shot one in the abdomen.
Speedily, he pulled out his knife and slashed.
One dropped screaming. Another tumbled to the floor, gurgling and clutching his throat as blood seeped out.
In a frenzy, the group shifted left and right, up and down as Azhir kept back-to-back with one of them.
"Behind you!" One of them shouted as the gangster swiped at Azhir. Casually, he crouched and swept his legs and the gangster crashed to the floor with a grunt. Although he knew he should be shooting at Azhir, his body couldn't perform.
Out the front door, Azhir perceived the driver with both hands on the wheel. One gangster stood by the passenger door, eyes alert. For a split second, he saw Azhir's figure and a gasp escaped.
Bang!
Before he could raise his weapon, his head snapped back then his body fell forward.
Inside, the gangsters turned to the doorway of moonlight pouring in, searching for a line of sight.
Bang! Bang!
Two of them fell. Abby switched to another target and sent a bullet ripping a hole in his throat.
The last charged, flipping his pistol to strike.
Abby snagged his arm then swept his legs as he fell headfirst into the floor. In a second, the gangster's eyes popped open from the pain as Abby had her barrel pointed at him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Exhaling, Abby holstered her pistol as Azhir's shadow blocked the moonlight. Abby noticed his eyes were still that ordinary brown.
"I was expecting a bit more from you." Abby smirked as she exited with Azhir.
Why are you so disappointing? You know I usually handle this stuff? Shut up. You weren't necessary. Of course I was! Look at those bullet marks on your face! I... I think he's fine. I doubt we'll get to that point. Azhir gulped as the two walked back to their vehicle and the sirens came within earshot.
~
In his car, Sean stared out at the darkness. Unlike in the woods or in pure nature, the city didn't provide much opportunity to see stars. But Sean understood his reason for being out here.
They had split up and parked in specific areas so as to hear any chatter and catch any noise regarding criminal activity. Catching one of the enhanced gangsters indeed was a low likelihood but Sean came prepared, so he wasn't worried.
"Still good over here." Carson's voice came over his handheld radio.
"You know, if we were going to do this, we might as well be signing up for the police department. I'm sure we'd make the cut... except Zuri."
Well, we wouldn't have free rein to conduct ourselves as we please. It's a looser lease and we aren't bound by laws to an extent. Of course, Carson wasn't referring to Zuri's qualifications but the fact that she was too qualified and beyond a normal person's comprehension.
Is Glass playing some sick joke? I'm sure she knows that Zuri was attempting to control everyone's lives there. I don't have the evidence but... I have a gut feeling. Sean pondered, not hearing Carson over the radio talking to alleviate the silence.
Sean reached in the backseat and zipped open his backpack. The shiny bronze objects were still there. He pulled them out.
Their bumpy side had four differently shaped holes for each of Sean's fingers. Below them was a lopsided hole until there was another thin bar. These should add some impact force. It may not make me as strong as a khata, but it'll guarantee they'll feel it more.
Since he first entered training, Sean knew he'd most likely encounter khata again. The easy response was a gun but khata could take more than one shot and usually there wasn't a guarantee he'd have a clean shot or enough ammunition in the moment. A khata's advantage was close up and personal, so brass knuckles weren't a bad tool to use. Part of him wanted to test his prowess against Zuri and judge his ability to keep up.
For a moment, the radio fizzed and the signal sounded like rushing waves. At the least, it stopped Carson from talking for a while. Sean giggled.
"Want to explain the point of this?" A demanding female voice pierced the ambience.
"Find the criminal and then interrogate him." Sean said plainly.
"Carson seems more capable than you. Sure, you're up for the task?" Zuri mocked. Sean refused to dignify her question with a response.
"... didn't Azhir tell you to leave?" When Zuri mentioned Azhir, Sean's eyes twitched.
"... he made me promise." Sean corrected.
"You really don't belong here. Why pretend to be something that you're not?"
"I have my reasons. That's all you need to know." Sean adjusted himself in the seat and let out a satisfying sigh.
"How about you, though? Still trying to play with puppets? Aren't we past that age?" Sean scoffed.
"You just happen to be a lucky son of a bitch."
Although Sean didn't admit it, Zuri was right. Khata weren't usually outright stronger than one another and there were few exceptions. Sean considered Zuri a bit more unique in her ability to fight most khata and actually be the last one standing. However, not only was Azhir there but Daniel as well.
"Thank God for that." Sean mumbled softly.
Suddenly, the sound of switching signals came back over the radio.
"Alarm set off on Beaver Avenue. Alarm set off on Beaver Avenue. Suspect is said to be dressed in a yellow shirt and jeans. African American male around five-ten and is fleeing on foot." An unknown voice announced.
Alright. Sean shifted gears and steadily applied pressure to the gas pedal as he emerged from an alley and onto the main street.
"Sean, the guy may be khata. Just tail him and don't engage until one of us gets there." Carson advised.
Can't promise that. Strangely, Sean felt a rising anticipation.
"He's around East 4th." Zuri instructed. Sean made the appropriate turn.
You bastards. Things are gonna be different.