The night air blew through the open window, ruffling the curtains gently as he entered the apartment. The Black Recluse moved the curtains only a little more than the night wind as he entered. He might have been mistaken for a slight breeze, or a stray shadow. He was very quiet for a big man, even for a much smaller man. Which was why he was so surprised when the lamp came on.
Illuminated in the pool of yellow light cast from the floor lamp was a woman, smoking on an old couch. She had long, slim, legs and the kind of body that made men very aware that they were male. Her long blond hair cascaded over one end of the couch. She looked up at the ceiling, and blew smoke out in a long slow, controlled breath. "How'd it go?" She asked.
The unearthly figure by the window stood still for a time. Starring at the woman. His impassive face betraying nothing of any meaning in that gaze. After a while he moved further into the room. "Good. They showed up, just like you said they would."
The wall opposite the couch was covered wall to wall with bookshelves. The Recluse moved to this, and slid one hand under a particular shelf, which briefly glowed, and then the entire bookcase slid back reveling a hidden closet. The recluse took off his coat and hat, and then pulled off his mask.
The man beneath the mask was handsome, if unremarkable. He had a square jaw, large brown eyes and brown hair. He took off the pale blue gauntlets that were coiled around his wrists and placed them on a shelf before running his hands though his hair. To the woman on the couch he said over his shoulder, "You gave me a lot more warning than usual. The publishing a newsletter these days?"
The woman smiled an ironic smile in her little smoke cloud. "There was a lot of controversy about shaking down Svenson's. It's a landmark. Been around since World War II. A lot of people believed that they should give it a by."
The man laughed, low and deep "Maybe we should get downtown declared an historic landmark, then Scali will be out of business."
The woman sat up, and stubbed out her cigarette. "I don't think it works quite that way. Besides, they went for it anyway. Scali is not a sentimentalist."
The man turned back to the closet, and pulled his shirt over his head. "Any other news about Scali's operation?"
"No. Don't expect so much advanced warning next time. This was a one time thing. How many of these extortion attempts have you busted up anyway?"
"This is the sixth. Second time I've gotten that little rat-faced guy. He had no new information. I've only seen two major enforcers, I don't think stopping these shakedowns is going to provide me with anymore information about Scali's organization." He sat down, stripping off his combat boots and the metal coils that were warped around his calves. "We need a new strategy."
The woman stood, stretched languorously. "What we need is some sleep. I'm not waiting up on you again, Kurt. Next time I'm either with you, or I'm never talking to you again."
Kurt stripped off his slacks. "That will make for some awkward situations, Aubrey, since we're roommates and all."
Aubrey smothered a grin behind her hand. "Yeah, and we're never faced witht hose situations now. Kurt! Modesty."
Kurt grabbed an old bathrobe from the hidden closet, and put it on. "Sorry, modesty wasn't much of a value where I grew up."
"Hey, I don't mind. Really, I don't. I'm just afraid you're going to pull one of these little social faux pas in public."
"I doubt I will. We received extensive training in 'blending' in basic training. Sometimes, I just forget; but only around you."
They looked at each other for a moment longer than they should, just a shading into uncomfortable. "Anyway, good night, Kurt. Try and get some sleep will ya?"
Kurt looked away from Aubrey. I'll try. I've got class tomorrow, and since I have nothing else, I'll try and keep extortion in the Old City to a minimum tomorrow night."
The two of them went down a hallway, when they reached the end Kurt went into the room on the left, Aubrey into the room on the right. As each drifted off to sleep, each wondered, not for the first time, at how oddly quiet the night seemed.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Episode I, The Shakedown Shakedown
Joe Svenson made the best grilled cheese sandwiches in Yurok City. Svenson has been making grilled cheese sandwiches on the corner of Maple and Main St. at his families diner since he was old enough to reach the grill. Back then his father had owned Svenson's Diner. Joe could still remember his father and grandfather bustling back and forth though the kitchen and dining area in the old fashioned aluminum sided restaurant, serving the busy lunch crowd. His grandfather had opened the diner in the very depths of the Great Depression back in 1931, after emigrating from Sweden.
Joe's father had wanted more for him than a life behind a lunch counter, but, then again, Joe's Grandfather had wanted more for his son. Joe had gone to College, and graduated with honors. But he had come back to the diner. There was something about the old place that made it feel like home to Joe. His family had put down roots in this country three generations ago, and those roots were here, at Svenson's. Those roots were about to be attacked by a rather nasty form of rot.
Joe was just getting ready to close up for the night, when three big men in pinstripe suits walked in. Joe looked up from where he'd been counting the nights receipts by the register. "Sorry, guys, I'm happy to serve you, but the kitchens closed for the night. Still got coffee and pie though."
One of the men smiled a rat-like grin from beneath his pencil mustache. "Some coffee please. Promise we'll make it quick . It's cold, and the Underground isn't due for another ten minutes." The man pointed to the stairs descending into the ground on the opposite sidewalk, that were visible through the front windows.
"Sure, just a sec." Joe shut the registers, and went over and poured three mugs of coffee from the rapidly cooling pot. It was odd, Joe thought; well dressed men rarely took the Underground, and it wasn't that cold outside. Ah well, three bucks is three bucks, and he would have to throw out less coffee. He turned around, then set the three mugs on the counter. "Here you go. That'll be three dollars."
The man with the mustache sat on the middle stool of the counter, still smiling. The other two, larger, men had moved around behind the counter on either side, and were advancing on Joe slowly. "Thanks!" The Mustache Man said. "But I think It'll be more like three hundred. Also, you'll be paying me."
"Wait. What is this?" Though Joe already knew.
"Protection," the Rat Man said. "You'll be paying us three hundred a week from now on; so as to avoid any unfortunate accidents. "If you so choose, other options are available. Boys, show Mr. Svenson here a partial list of 'deductibles.'"
The two goons began to advance on Joe faster. Joe knew that he could swing the Coffee Pot at one of them. It wasn't hot enough to scald anymore, but the broken glass would cut him up some. After that though... Joe prepared to fight, no one was going to take advantage of him.
The bell over the door to the diner jingled softly. "Are you still open?"
Rat Man didn't even takes his eyes off Joe. "Take a hike Mac, we're having a conversation here."
"I need some pie. It can't wait."
"Look pal, I'm not gonna ask you again..." The smile faded from his face as he turned to regard the man standing in the doorway.
Joe wasn't sure what to make of the man. He was somewhere between the Rat Man and the Goons in height, but his build was somehow aquiline, like a race horse just before a run. He was dressed in shiny combat boots, slacks, and a black sweater. Over that he wore a trench coat and a fedora. It was the black mask covered his face that really gave Joe pause. It was molded to show the contours of his nose and mouth, but where his eyes should have been were two glittering metallic spheres that glittered in the light. It made Joe think the compound eyes of a fly, or spider.
Rat Man seemed to know the man on sight. Oh, crap, it's him.. Get him guys!" The two goons abandoned their assault on Joe and moved to wards the man in the mask.
The man raised his hand, and something beneath the coat, wrapped around his wrist, began to glow with a soft blue light. The Goon coming around the far end of the bar gave a spasmodic jerk, then flew of his feet toward the man at a break-necked pace. Just before the Goon hit him, the man sidestepped and held out his other arm to clothesline the Goon as he flew by. The Goon's neck made a crunching sound as it connected with the strange man's arm, and he fell to the ground choking.
The other Goon was much closer to the stranger, and made a lunge for him. The same arm that had clotheslined Goon One, came out in an uppercut that connected with Goon Two's jaw, and shot the man off his feet, and his head into the aluminum ceiling of the diner.
The Rat Man, who had been watching the fight from his stool, had also been moving his hand slowly inside his coat. "Hey, moron, I got something for ya."
"Me too." Joe said, and brought the glass Coffee Pot down over his head. Rat Man's grin never left his face, but his eyes crossed in a comical fashion.
The Masked Man looked from Rat Man to Joe with his insect like gaze. "Thanks," he said.
"N-No problem" Joe managed.
Rat Man was blinking rapidly and shaking his head. The Masked Man walked over to the Rat, and picked him up by the lapels. He held the man's face right up to his. There was a desperate scuffling sound, which Joe realized was Rat Man's shoes sliding on the floor as he desperately tried to get away from the stranger.
"I told you, and others, that I would not tolerate this."
"S-S-S-Screw you. When Scali finds you, you're gonna be dead."
"I'm pretty easy to describe, and he hasn't found me yet. Tell me, does Boss Scali really pay your hospital fees if your hurt while collecting you're blood money?"
"Yeah, he takes care of us. What about it, you nutjob."
"I'm just thinking that if I inflict enough damage on you guys, this protection racket won't be as profitable." The Masked Man pulled one of his hands back and made a fist. "Don't worry. If I kill you, this is pointless. I'm just gonna hurt you real bad."
With a scream reminiscent of a seven year old girl, Rat Man fainted. The stranger let go of his lapel, and let him fall to the floor. He turned to the two Goons, who were just starting to pick themselves up. "You two, get this trash out of here. Tell your boss that if he shakes this place down again, he's gonna be paying three months worth of hospital bill for whoever tries to collect. Now, get out!"
The Goons picked up the Rat and carried him out into the night. The Masked Man walked slowly over to the doorway and watched them until they were out of sight. After a time Joe said, "You still want that Pie?"
The stranger turned to regard Joe. "No thanks, but thanks." The Masked Man walked back over to the counter. He took a business card from his pocket, and placed it on the counter.
Joe picked it up. It said; Black Recluse, and beneath that a four digit number. There was a watermark of a long-legged spider on it
"If those guys show up again text me at that number, and I'll be here quick."
The Masked Man walked out onto the street, and Joe followed him as far as the doorway. "So, this is you?" Joe pointed at the card.
"Yeah, that's me."
"And you're doing this, why?"
The Black Recluse looked at Joe with his glittering black visage. "Because I have to. And because I want to." Then he jumped impossibly high, and flew into the night.
Joe Svenson looked into the light polluted city night. After a time he looked down at the card. "Huh." He said, the went back inside and locked the door.
Joe's father had wanted more for him than a life behind a lunch counter, but, then again, Joe's Grandfather had wanted more for his son. Joe had gone to College, and graduated with honors. But he had come back to the diner. There was something about the old place that made it feel like home to Joe. His family had put down roots in this country three generations ago, and those roots were here, at Svenson's. Those roots were about to be attacked by a rather nasty form of rot.
Joe was just getting ready to close up for the night, when three big men in pinstripe suits walked in. Joe looked up from where he'd been counting the nights receipts by the register. "Sorry, guys, I'm happy to serve you, but the kitchens closed for the night. Still got coffee and pie though."
One of the men smiled a rat-like grin from beneath his pencil mustache. "Some coffee please. Promise we'll make it quick . It's cold, and the Underground isn't due for another ten minutes." The man pointed to the stairs descending into the ground on the opposite sidewalk, that were visible through the front windows.
"Sure, just a sec." Joe shut the registers, and went over and poured three mugs of coffee from the rapidly cooling pot. It was odd, Joe thought; well dressed men rarely took the Underground, and it wasn't that cold outside. Ah well, three bucks is three bucks, and he would have to throw out less coffee. He turned around, then set the three mugs on the counter. "Here you go. That'll be three dollars."
The man with the mustache sat on the middle stool of the counter, still smiling. The other two, larger, men had moved around behind the counter on either side, and were advancing on Joe slowly. "Thanks!" The Mustache Man said. "But I think It'll be more like three hundred. Also, you'll be paying me."
"Wait. What is this?" Though Joe already knew.
"Protection," the Rat Man said. "You'll be paying us three hundred a week from now on; so as to avoid any unfortunate accidents. "If you so choose, other options are available. Boys, show Mr. Svenson here a partial list of 'deductibles.'"
The two goons began to advance on Joe faster. Joe knew that he could swing the Coffee Pot at one of them. It wasn't hot enough to scald anymore, but the broken glass would cut him up some. After that though... Joe prepared to fight, no one was going to take advantage of him.
The bell over the door to the diner jingled softly. "Are you still open?"
Rat Man didn't even takes his eyes off Joe. "Take a hike Mac, we're having a conversation here."
"I need some pie. It can't wait."
"Look pal, I'm not gonna ask you again..." The smile faded from his face as he turned to regard the man standing in the doorway.
Joe wasn't sure what to make of the man. He was somewhere between the Rat Man and the Goons in height, but his build was somehow aquiline, like a race horse just before a run. He was dressed in shiny combat boots, slacks, and a black sweater. Over that he wore a trench coat and a fedora. It was the black mask covered his face that really gave Joe pause. It was molded to show the contours of his nose and mouth, but where his eyes should have been were two glittering metallic spheres that glittered in the light. It made Joe think the compound eyes of a fly, or spider.
Rat Man seemed to know the man on sight. Oh, crap, it's him.. Get him guys!" The two goons abandoned their assault on Joe and moved to wards the man in the mask.
The man raised his hand, and something beneath the coat, wrapped around his wrist, began to glow with a soft blue light. The Goon coming around the far end of the bar gave a spasmodic jerk, then flew of his feet toward the man at a break-necked pace. Just before the Goon hit him, the man sidestepped and held out his other arm to clothesline the Goon as he flew by. The Goon's neck made a crunching sound as it connected with the strange man's arm, and he fell to the ground choking.
The other Goon was much closer to the stranger, and made a lunge for him. The same arm that had clotheslined Goon One, came out in an uppercut that connected with Goon Two's jaw, and shot the man off his feet, and his head into the aluminum ceiling of the diner.
The Rat Man, who had been watching the fight from his stool, had also been moving his hand slowly inside his coat. "Hey, moron, I got something for ya."
"Me too." Joe said, and brought the glass Coffee Pot down over his head. Rat Man's grin never left his face, but his eyes crossed in a comical fashion.
The Masked Man looked from Rat Man to Joe with his insect like gaze. "Thanks," he said.
"N-No problem" Joe managed.
Rat Man was blinking rapidly and shaking his head. The Masked Man walked over to the Rat, and picked him up by the lapels. He held the man's face right up to his. There was a desperate scuffling sound, which Joe realized was Rat Man's shoes sliding on the floor as he desperately tried to get away from the stranger.
"I told you, and others, that I would not tolerate this."
"S-S-S-Screw you. When Scali finds you, you're gonna be dead."
"I'm pretty easy to describe, and he hasn't found me yet. Tell me, does Boss Scali really pay your hospital fees if your hurt while collecting you're blood money?"
"Yeah, he takes care of us. What about it, you nutjob."
"I'm just thinking that if I inflict enough damage on you guys, this protection racket won't be as profitable." The Masked Man pulled one of his hands back and made a fist. "Don't worry. If I kill you, this is pointless. I'm just gonna hurt you real bad."
With a scream reminiscent of a seven year old girl, Rat Man fainted. The stranger let go of his lapel, and let him fall to the floor. He turned to the two Goons, who were just starting to pick themselves up. "You two, get this trash out of here. Tell your boss that if he shakes this place down again, he's gonna be paying three months worth of hospital bill for whoever tries to collect. Now, get out!"
The Goons picked up the Rat and carried him out into the night. The Masked Man walked slowly over to the doorway and watched them until they were out of sight. After a time Joe said, "You still want that Pie?"
The stranger turned to regard Joe. "No thanks, but thanks." The Masked Man walked back over to the counter. He took a business card from his pocket, and placed it on the counter.
Joe picked it up. It said; Black Recluse, and beneath that a four digit number. There was a watermark of a long-legged spider on it
"If those guys show up again text me at that number, and I'll be here quick."
The Masked Man walked out onto the street, and Joe followed him as far as the doorway. "So, this is you?" Joe pointed at the card.
"Yeah, that's me."
"And you're doing this, why?"
The Black Recluse looked at Joe with his glittering black visage. "Because I have to. And because I want to." Then he jumped impossibly high, and flew into the night.
Joe Svenson looked into the light polluted city night. After a time he looked down at the card. "Huh." He said, the went back inside and locked the door.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)