Originally posted July 5, 2011
Warm lips brushed against my cheek. Our heads pulled apart as we regarded each other.
"Señorita Delgado."
"Jefe." I smiled and offered my sister Yukiko a small bow as the manager of my restaurant turned her attention to the good lieutenant at my side. Even after two years of living in The States, Yukiko did not feel comfortable with public displays of affection, even in greetings. It took six months of dating before she would hold her boyfriend's hand as they walked down the street together.
"The staff has taken up a collection," Yukiko told me across the hostess' stand. "They have picked out a pleasant arrangement for Tobais' funeral." I smiled, my eyes shifting from Yukiko to Paz. In the span of a year, Kori's servers, cooks, and other staff had transformed from a gangly gaggle of street kids to a tightly knit group of community activists. Rolanda Glenn would receive weeks of free meals, prepared by Kori's employees during their spare time. She would hopefully learn that the barrio supported her during this time of loss.
"Do you want a table?" Yukiko asked. I would never get the full story of what happened from her. By the time this little adventure had wrapped up, Yukiko would lose a bit of her innocence and I would have a better understanding of family. I would also have made a decision that I would find myself second guessing the rest of my life. Thinking about it would leave me lying awake in my futon, a sour taste in my stomach, for years to come.
I chuckled, gesturing at the stains and dust my t-shirt and jeans had picked up as Eddie and I thoroughly searched the studio apartment where we found Gustavo Torres. That was his name. The 14th Street King had suffered an extensive beating. Combined with a long history of narcotic abuse, the hospital did not expect him to last long. They were to contact Eddie immediately if Gustavo regained consciousness.
"I don't think so, Yukiko," I answered. "It wouldn't do to have me kicked out of my own place." Kori's requires jackets on all male guests. "We're just passing through to the apartment." I smiled, my eyes going back and forth between the two women at the hostess stand. "We could use some help, if things aren't too busy down here."
"We could use a couple of medianoches, too," Eddie chimed in. The lieutenant tells me Kori's serves the best Midnight Sandwiches north of Miami. I tend to believe the assertion. Paz raised one delicately penciled eyebrow as she looked back into the crowded restaurant. "Let me get this group settled and we'll be up in a few minutes. I'll send Emilio with los medianoches right away." "Gracias, señorita," I thanked her as we began to walk towards the stairs and the third floor apartment I shared with Yukiko.
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When I think of an august gathering of heroes, I usually picture a metallic circular table surrounded by uncomfortable but stylish chairs, each adorned with the emblem of the garishly costumed hero sitting there. I do not see four casually dressed friends gathered around a map covered kotatsu, each one reading tablet computers or sifting through manila folders, a plate of warm Cuban sandwiches nearby.
We were heroes. Between her pursuit of a double major in music and engineering, Yukiko still found time to put on a wig, cover her face, and hit the streets as the kyudoka, Shiroi Hana. Genetically modified as part of Cuba's super soldier program and practitioner of La Verdadera Destreza, Paz used the identity of El Alacran to help keep her employees and citizens of the local barrio, safe. I've already introduced Eddie and myself, although Senor Alejandro would wince at the use of the word "hero," no matter how much hardware he carried with him at any given time.
The good lieutenant leaned over the low table, wiping a spot of mustard from his goatee. "I'm surprised that no one on the beat noticed this."
"Corruption with los monados?" Paz grinned as she returned a sandwich to a plate. "¡No me digas!" I chuckled as I looked over the map. The four of us had spent the last hour plotting out reported crimes on a map of the West Side. "This required some coordination and planning," I considered. "I didn't think there was anyone left in the Kings to pull this off."
"There isn't," said Eddie. Yukiko sucked air into her teeth before offering, "This is DEMON's work."
Four hours of examination and speculation had led us to this point. A mystically charged group of poorly dressed thugs with a deep seated desire to ruin my day looked poised to take over a West Side gang I've worked hard to stamp out.
"What do we know?" Eddie asked. Four hours of discussion and he still wanted us to run it through one more time. I started, "We discovered packing materials at the shooting gallery where we found a DEMON agent assaulting Gustavo Torres. It looked like it contained a weapon of some sort, a gauntlet, maybe, a rifle. Something medium sized. Portable."
"We think," Yukiko began, her voice quiet, "That Gustavo or another of the Kings brought the weapon to the apartment. Whoever was with Gustavo likely has the gauntlet. Either one of them could have triggered the device that killed Tobias Glenn."
"But who that might be," Paz offered, lifting her hands palms up, "No sabemos."
"The packaging hints at a larger shipment," I picked up. "Looking at crimes in the last few weeks didn't reveal use of such a weapon, but plotting them out," I gestured towards the map, "demonstrated a shift in reported crime away from the docks. The police have re-organized patrols, shifting personnel towards the higher crime areas."
"Leaving the docks," Yukiko continued, "unpatrolled."
The lieutenant nodded. "That leaves us with two issues. We have a suspect loose on the West Side with a weapon of some power. The suspect is likely a narcotics user and should be considered extremely dangerous. We also believe a shipment will arrive at the West Side docks at some point in the near future. Corruption in the police force notwithstanding," Eddie smiled at Paz, "the gap in uniformed patrols will be noticed and corrected, soon." His head tilted as he looked towards me. "What should we do?"
Eddie's led me down this branch countless times before, leading me to a point where an investigator needs to make a decision. We could tell the police about the gaps in their coverage, but that might close off our opportunity to catch the bad guys in the act. We could all look for the weapon running around the city, but that could leave the door open for more of them to hit the streets. More weapons like that hitting the streets? That would mean war as the Kings tried to take back turf. War meant innocent casualties.
"We split up," I suggested. "Eddie, you focus on finding whoever was with Gustavo Torres. You have access to police records that the rest of us don’t. You can see whom he's been arrested with, known collaborators, that sort of stuff. If needed, you can call on MCPD resources to help you in that search."
"Paz, Yukiko, and I will patrol the docks. Our goal will be to prevent the inflow of weapons to the Kings, catch whatever remnants of the Kings we can, and bloody DEMON's nose if it turns out they are the ones really running the show. We might not be able to keep them out of the West Side on our own, but we can let them know we're watching."
I turned my head to look back at Eddie. "Well, socio? What do you think?"
Lt. Alejandro rose, dusting off the crumbs of Cuban bread that had gathered in his lap. "I think," he replied. "I think we'd better get out there."
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