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Old 02-14-2011, 10:27 PM   #80
Byrd Man
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Join Date: May 2006
Location: America
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Default Re: One Universe RPG: Season V IC Thread







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Spoiler!!! Click to Read!:


Gotham Mayor Hamilton Hill looked at the paper in his hands and balled it up in frustration. "Third ****ing place?! How does that happen?!" He growled as he threw the ball of paper across his office. "How in the hell does a two-term mayor end up losing in the poll projections to a city council chump and a goddamn billionaire airhead?!"

"Wayne's lead over you is a slight one," an intimidated aide replied. "Maybe five percent. He's appeal to the people who don't care about the issues, they're just drawn to the press surrounding Wayne. It's like a sideshow attraction."


"What about Kane? How is that sniveling little weasel is pulling off a ten percent lead in the polls?"


"He's gotten a lot of sympathy from the murder of his wife. It's become a rallying cry behind his campaign to get tough on crime."


Hill shook his head and walked over to a cabinet in his office. He pulled a bottle of scotch from the cupboard and fixed himself a glass. "That little ****. Leave it to him to turn the death of a loved one into a political move. At least I'm doing better than that idiot, Krohl. When's the debate?"


"Next week. It'll be you, Councilman Kane, Mister Wayne, and Deputy Krohl."


"Alright," Hill said with a sigh. He turned his glass up and chugged down the scotch. "Start looking into their campaigns and get me what you can."




**********



Councilman David Kane sat up in bed and looked out the window. He was being consumed by guilt. In a week, he'd turned his biggest political liability into a strength. He was going to be the next mayor based on just one issue. But it had cost him his wife. The woman Marie had become in later years wasn't the woman he'd met an fell in love with, but she was down there somewhere underneath all the drug addiction.


Marie's drug addiction was the biggest flaw in his campaign. How could a mayoral candidate who professed to be tough on crime have a junkie wife? Nevermind the fact that he'd put her in rehab and NA programs a dozen times. She could never get the monkey on her back. He'd always threaten to cut her off, divorce her and take their children, and she'd always counter with threats of suicide. The drugs were taking her life, no matter how much he tried to help her, she'd never be truly clean. He couldn't stand to see her suffer any longer. That fact, along with the political motivations, is why he visited the Penguin with a few thousand dollars and his wife's photo.


All it took was one gunshot. One gunshot caused him to leap frog over Mayor Hill and Bruce Wayne to take charge in the polls. He was the firebrand in the election. While Hill and Krohl represented the old ways, and Wayne was just a PR stunt, it was David Kane that was becoming the hungry up and comer with ideas to help change the city. But was it worth it? Marie's death was on his conscience. He stilled owed Cobblepot twenty-five grand. He had no idea where the money would come from, and he was afraid to think of what would happen when he didn't pay the Penguin.


He turned and looked at the empty spot in his bed, the place where Marie had laid next to him for nearly twenty years. He stared at the spot for what felt like hours before finally laying down and going to sleep.





**********



Detective Crispus Allen pulled his unmarked squad into the parking lot and swooped into a space. He lit a cigarette and puffed on it while he crossed the parking lot. Allen tossed the butt down on to the pavement and stomped it out just before he walked into GCPD's Eastern District House. He nodded and waved to a few of the officers he knew from the job. Most of the men and women weren't familiar to him. He navigated through the hallways to a small row of cubicles marked "Eastern District Drug Enforcement Unit." Allen couldn't help but smile when he saw the three familiar faces typing away on their work computers.


"You boys better not be looking at porn," he said with a chuckle. The three men turned almost simultaneously. Detective Sergeant Kasper Cole, Detective Charlie Fields, and Detective Marcus Driver all stood up and greeted their former co-worker.


"So what's brings you down to the Eastern?" Cole asked once the four had finished exchanging pleasantries. "Figured it was beneath the big, bad Homicide boys to visit us in the districts."


Allen reached into his jacket and produced a picture of a middle-aged woman with her husband and two children. "This is Marie Kane in better times." He pulled another photo from his jacket. It was Marie Kane, dead and laying on a coroner's slab. "This is her a few days ago."


"She's the wife of the guy who's running for mayor, right?" Driver asked.


"Yeah," Fields replied. "Nora told me about her husband coming in and identifying her at the morgue. Said it was kind of heart-breaking. She had two younger children"


"Yeah, it's sad, but it's also a priority case," Allen said. "I got stuck with this redball. Now, those of you who aren't illiterate like Driver, you know she had a drug problem."


"I know about that," Driver said defensively. "It was on TV, after all."


"Well, anyway," Allen continued. "She had a drug problem and like to buy Eastside. Even though she was found over in Major Essen's district, I figured the Eastern DEU would know a little intel about what's going on in the streets out there, know who's dealing and who was dealing to her."


The three narcotics detectives shared looks before Cole spoke up. "Yeah, you can come along while we bust heads. I mean, the captain's been riding us to get the stats. We can't do all the stuff we did in MCU."


"Yeah," Driver added. "Much as that works, the captain don't care. So, instead of collecting intel, we collect scalps."


"We're rolling out in about a half hour," Cole said. "You up for it?"


"Sure," Allen said. "Just make sure to get a vest in my size."



"Goddamn," Michael "Mink" Sullivan said with a shake of his head. He was driving his truck down the quiet Southeast Gotham neigborhood, staring at the man in the passenger seat. For Mink, it was the first time in nearly ten years that he had laid eyes on his cousin, Daniel Sullivan. "Can't believe you're home, Danny. To be honest, I gave up on you. Figured Maroni and his people caught up to you and that was all she wrote."

Danny shrugged. "Just laid low. The mob has reach, but they don't exactly have much of a presence in rural Washington."

Mink smirked as the two men passed a corner. "Hey, remember this place? This is where that idiot Pee Wee Hawkings thought he could deal on Sullivan Boy turf. We showed him that day. ****er ended up in traction after you got done with him."

"Yeah," Danny said in a neutral tone. "I was never sure we could ever hold any turf here in our own neighborhood, but who would have thought we'd have taken over all the Eastside?"

"Those were the days," Mink said with a smile. "All you needed to take corners was a half-assed package and a few AKs. Now? ****, man. They've been gutting the Southeast, developers are turning this place around and making it a 'respectable' neighborhood. This place is boring as hell. There's only one major drug player, and he gets his **** from us."

"Who is 'us'?" Danny asked quizzically. Mink nodded as he took a left.
"You'll find out soon enough, cuz. Told the man about you, about our past here in this town, and he's interested."



**********



"Gentlemen," Mayor Hamilton Hill said to the two men behind his desk. "Crime is running rampant in this city. I am holding you two personally responsible."

Acting Police Commissioner Josh Grogan shifted nervously in his seat. He glanced to the right at his number two, Deputy Commissioner for Operations Arnold Flass.

"Well, sir," Grogan began. "If you look at the data and monthly crime reports you'll see that-"

"I know what I see," Hill said through narrowed eyes. "I see a 5% decrease in felonies. But I also see a 20% jump in the murder rate. How in the **** do you explain that?"

"Well, sir," Flass said. "It's really-"

"I can explain it," Hill snapped. "It's easy to manipulate the data when it comes to most crimes. You can downgrade an assault, unfound a robbery. But how in the **** do you make a body disappear, right?"

The commissioner and his deputy exchanged uneasy glances. "What's the current number of murders for this year?"

"187," Flass said without hesitation.

"Jesus Christ," Hill snarled. "It's not even August yet! I have an election to win, and I'm getting my ass handed to me when it comes to crime. Keep crime down, period. Murders included. If by some miracle I make it through this election, I'll think about removing your title as 'Acting Commissioner' and let you get a full term once you've served all of Gordon's."

"We'll get the numbers down," Grogan said. "But the murder rate? That might be tricky."

"It better not get over 250 by election time," Hill said in a stern tone. "If not....well, we'll see how Deputy Flass here can handle the big chair."



**********



The red sedan sped around the corner, catching the five young men on the street corner off guard. "5-0," one of the young men shouted. All at once, his friends and co-workers dumped any incriminating evidence they had on them before the sedan came to a stop. The car skidded next to the curb and the three men jumped out.

"Hands against the wall," Detective Marcus Driver shouted. His partner Charlie Fields was right behind him while their sergeant, Kasper Cole, brought up the rear with Detective Cripus Allen.

The young drug dealers replied with Driver's request, leaning their hands against the outside wall of the building beside the sidewalk. Driver and Fields quickly patted them down, not finding anything.

"What is this?" Cole asked as he bent down and picked up a ziploc bag filled with vials of heroin and cocaine. "Anyone wanna cop to it?"

The five youngster remained silent. "Well, we'll lock you all up. But for now, you ****heads are gonna listen to my man here."

Cole yielded the floor to Allen, who came up on the sidewalk as Fields instructed the young men to turn around. In Allen's hands were photo of Marie Kane, wife of mayoral candidate David Kane and the victim in his latest homicide case.

"Any of you deal to her?" Allen asked. The five young men looked straight ahead, blank looks on their faces. "I'm homicide, not a narco like these men. I don't give a damn if you were slinging. Hell, I got the power to get ya'll off on most charges as long as the DA's office know you're
cooperating in a murder investigation."

Allen held the photo up and walked down the line. "Anyone seen her? Anyone at all?"

After a solid minute of silence, Allen sighed and pulled out five copies of his business card. He walked back up the line, placing the cards into the men's pockets. "When that lockup ya'll are spending the night in looks bad, I hope you'll look at these cards and think warm thoughts of me."

Allen stepped back and let Cole and the two detectives go to work arresting the drug dealers.

__________________
"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
-- Thomas Paine


"People never lie so much as after a hunt, during a war or before an election."
-- Otto von Bismarck


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