Old McDonald had a goat? – GS.

 

The fluffy alien with an insatiably curious mind was causing all sorts of chaos, as the four tried to answer her questions.  Of course, the guys had other more pressing matters to attend to.  The package that had the dirt on the Commander for one.  Would Frank use it in a bid to clear his name?  Read on and find out.

Scene setting – Elissa’s apartment : Gantz Series.

Co-written with Temp, Chor and VunG.

 

Temp:  Xillia looked back and forth between the humans as they reacted to her little ‘show’. The explanations that she received about breasts were very interesting to say the least, and more or less made perfect sense. It seemed as though human males were quite fond of these things, which was also common among her people. She couldn’t help but smile as she analyzed Frank and Tommy’s reactions to her exposure. “I see! So they are important among you as well! I’m glad mine are to your liking!” Of course, she didn’t quite understand that any of these humans were ‘romantically involved’ with each other. In fact, she didn’t even know what romance was. Breeding was a common practice among her people, but love and things of that nature weren’t really present. From her perspective, if two beings found each other desirable for procreation then they would engage in a mating ritual. She didn’t expect that from these humans though, as they seemed to already both have mating partners. “I wonder what it would be like to mate with a human…am I too large for that?” Probably. It was unfortunate that it was an experience she would likely miss out on, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. “Well, never mind that…I’m grateful for the information you’ve shared with me.” She bowed her head towards them all in a sign of appreciation. There was still a great deal that she wanted to learn about the humans and their culture, but there was no need to rush.

 

Chor:  Despite her best efforts, it seemed Isolde still was the odd one out – continuously proving she wasn’t quite capable of functioning in society without making a fool of herself. She bit down on her tongue. For most of the rest of the conversation she focused solely on running her fingers along and scoping out the terrain of her left clavicle, the bone jagged where she’d been injured a few years back. When it seemed the conversation was dying down, Isa chimed in once more.

Also, they are not only for ogling by suitors; many females utilize them to feed their young,” she spoke, a little more reserved than the original vigor of her earlier statement. She was glad to be able to be the one providing information for this alien species who was so very interested in human nature. It was almost an honor. No one has done this before; that has been recorded…

It’s my pleasure.

VunG:  The guys’ reactions were… well Elissa couldn’t say what she’d expected, but they sure as heck weren’t too far out of the ordinary. Frank’s reaction was… well pretty much what she’d imagine a horny Frank to look like: goofy, inelegant, and comically ridiculous. As for Tommy though, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he struggled between the alien’s huge knockers and eventually settled on hers, assuring her that hers were ‘perfect.’ It got a smile out of her, and while it was kind of silly that he was struggling between her and a twelve foot tall fluffy alien, she knew that men had pretty bad times trying not to look at anything that shoot a rack their way. Reaching across the table, she grabbed a napkin and wiped at his nose, giving him a coy grin before turning her attention back to the alien.

Jeeze, this thing was freaking relentless wasn’t she? That alien just seemed absolutely obsessed with the idea of mating–were her kind hedonistic or something? Of course, then came the subject of mating with a human, and the first thing that came to mind was a phrase that would probably be a little too mean to the boys to even write out, a snort escaping her followed by a silent laugh. However… she had an idea. After nodding her agreement with Isolde’s comment and smiling her own silent ‘happy to help,’ she got up from her chair and went over to the fridge, looking around until she found a hot dog. Then wrote down her message and brought one of the sausages over to the alien, placing it in front of her along with the note. ~If something this size would be too small for you, you’ll probably be disappointed. That, and you might crush the poor guy.~ Hot dog down a hallway, folks. Hot dog down a hallway.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
While Tommy’s cheeks went a dark shade of red over the fact he had a nose bleed at the worst possible time, Frank was now guffawing like there was no tomorrow. Talk about Goofy on steroids. If it wasn’t the fluffy Princess asking if she would be too large to mate with, it was Elissa putting it pretty plainly that she would be way too big for the likes of a mere human male.

“Our penises are a fair size….but…you know. They might get lost.” Frank managed to get out. “But…yeah, I think we might be biting off more than we can chew.”

The detective had to take his hanky out of his pocket to try and wipe away the tears that now stained his cheeks. It took him a good few minutes to reign in his laughter, all the while, Tommy was trying to look anywhere, but at the fluffy Princess. It was all a bit too much.

The reporter then remembered the package on the coffee table. This was probably the worst time to hand it over, especially after Frank had been laughing and enjoying Fluffy’s antics. Getting up from the table, he went over and scooped up the evidence, including the pictures and the DVD of him at Madame Rose’s club. Knowing that Elissa would be watching, he said on passing. “He needs to see these. Probably better if he does so later though. I don’t want Fluffy getting the wrong idea…you know?”

Course, they both knew what the pictures were of.

“Frank. I got some compromising material on the Commander via…..a source. It might be your ticket to stopping him from standing in the way of your investigations of Rory.”

Frank completely stopped laughing and looked at the package before taking it off Tommy’s hands.

“What is it?” Genuinely curious.

“Let’s just say…..the Commander should be called “Old McDonald loved his goat….ei ie ei ie ooh.”

Frank unzipped the package and took out just one of the photos. It was all that he needed to see.

“Woah. That’s fucked up.”

He offered the picture to Isolde for her opinion. This would be scandalous and career damaging to say the least.

 

undefined

~RB~

 

Temp:  The size of the ‘hot dog’ that was shown to her was not very impressive. The males of her kind were definitely much larger. Crushing a human would also be bad. Xillia was a bit upset that the prospect of mating with a human was not likely to go down well, but she wouldn’t let it keep her down. “I see…that’s unfortunate.” No mating with humans it seemed. After all the last thing she wanted to do was be disappointed with a humans performance, and she definitely didn’t want to crush one. It would just have to remain a possibility. The new topic that the humans were talking about didn’t make much sense to her, but that made her all the more curious. “What is a…Old McDonald? What does fucked up mean? What’s a goat?” Her tail was wiggling like crazy as she plopped out question after question. More things to learn! MORE THINGS TO LEARN!

 

Chor:  Isolde blinked as Elissa disappeared to the kitchen; having no idea of what she could need there. What she produced though, was enough to send Isolde reeling. She burst into laughter; covering her mouth with a dainty hand. The alien didn’t seem all too pleased about this and her face showed Isolde that their anatomy was far less sizable. When she was able to calm herself, Isa added, “…and that’s being generous.

The mood in the next moment was completely changed; it was serious. The very air in the room thickened as Tommy produced an envelope, one which was stole from his hands after stating something about the Commander. The thought of putting that insufferable cock in his place brought a little more joy to Isa’s day and she imagined what it could be that they’d found. What she saw, though, she was in no way prepared for. Was that a goat? A goat. It was most definitely a goat. Now, Isolde has seen many things in her profession of choice. Men reduced to ground beef, disembodied parts of all origins, or even people from whom the skin has been peeled away. This, however, she could not stomach. Her gag reflex toyed with her, producing bile which she promptly left the table to dispose of in the nearest trash can, along with the amazing breakfast she’d shared with Frank before all this mess occurred.

What…” sentences were attempted, but nothing followed as she wiped her face with a wet paper towel and trashed that too. Sitting back down relieved a little of the nausea. The Commander had recently been gotten married…Isa was sure of it, but he…with goats..and…

There was nothing else to think about. This man was so fucked up even Isa couldn’t fathom it.

VunG:  Oh good God, what had Elissa done? All the laughter from her comment was actually kind of overwhelming–she had meant it as a joke, but holy cow she really had sent the room into hysterics. Well, guess she’d best own it. As Isolde added her two cents, she promptly snickered and nodded agreeably and struggling not to fall into the same degree of laughter as the others were. It was clear the alien didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but at least she got the point that humans were a touch tiny for her tastes.

Of course, the joy was sucked out a bit when Tommy realized that it would probably be a bad idea if the alien saw those pictures. She’d think that they found interspecies relations acceptable, or maybe that spying was okay, neither of which were even remotely true. That said, she had been hoping to hold off on actually showing Frank what it was, and as he went to grab it she internally cringed as she realized that this might get very quickly out of hand if Frank was a little too vocal on it. As it was Tommy’s comment had her palm on her forehead within seconds, letting out a sigh as she tried not to laugh at that.

The alien, for her part, clearly wasn’t stupid, and picked up pretty quickly that there was something going on. Sighing again, she quickly wrote down a response. ~In order. Old MacDonald is an old children’s song, ‘fucked up’ usually means that something is very wrong or disgusting (which is the case here), and a goat is a four-legged critter about two-thirds our size often used for milk, meat, and occasionally fur. You’d be best off not knowing what’s in there, but if you MUST, know that it’s very abnormal~ As she was writing that, she would be taken off-guard by the sound of retching, and would see poor Isolde puking into a trash can. Well, at least she’d made it to the trashcan. Handing the note off, she then gave Isolde a few pats on the back and got her some paper towels to wipe her mouth off, and once she stopped heaving she began filling a glass of water for her. Apparently she had a weaker gag stomach than Elissa–ironic considering the work she did but, meh, Elissa used to be the one putting people in the morgue.

 

Razorbackwriter:  
Frank’s initial reaction was one of shock and revulsion. Here was the top cop in the city doing unspeakable things to a domesticated farm animal. In a club no less. The detective’s eyes narrowed as he studied the photographs further, trying to work out just where he had seen the curtains in the image before. It was familiar in an odd way. That alone sent shivers through him. Isolde was not able to hide her disgust. She was up and over at the trash can basically bringing up her breakfast. Who could blame her? Elissa was quick to go and tend to Isolde, while Frank was deep in thought now. This package of photographs, and what looked to be a surveillance DVD was dynamite in the wrong hands. After everything the Commander had done to stand in the way of Frank’s investigations, and also the latest shooting death of the mobster back off the alley near where Rory was taken, this now shined a light on just how fucked up the Commander really was. Wasn’t he just married to some mail order bride from Honkers?

With the alien still asking a lot more questions, which seemed to be endless, Frank started to stuff the photographs back into the envelope that they came in. First things first. He had to ask.

“Okay Tommy, where did you get these?”

Tommy hadn’t been forthcoming with this information in front of Elissa before now, and he slowly rose to standing. You could see he was uncomfortable with being asked this in front of the others. Especially, Elissa.

“Remember Madame Rose Li?”

Frank nodded slowly. “Yeah, really creepy lady that was involved with your brother before…” His voice trailed off as he could see Tommy’s face changing. Just talking about that, was bringing back memories he rather not forget. Tommy took the lap top up off the table and closed it slowly. “She was at my office at work. They, and I assume she means the mob are more than aware of who killed Joey Patone. They know that the Commander is trying to fit you up for it.” He stared down at the parcel in Frank’s hands. Tommy now wondered just what Frank was going to do with it.

“So…heh…you’re telling me, that the mob are trying to help a cop?” That…in itself didn’t make any sense. The reporter looked uneasy as he dragged his fingers through his hair. “I think the Commander is more of a danger to them then you are. For some reason. I guess this was an insurance policy to shut him up.”

It was starting to look very much that way. Now the question was, would Frank use it?

Frank bundled up the papers, and then turned to face Isolde. He knew what he had to do, but didn’t want her involved.

“I’ve gotta go. You stay here with….Xillia.” Dragging along the alien on this very private mission was a bad idea. “I’m tired of being the scapegoat. I need to end this.”

Not waiting for her reply, he kissed her lips softly, before grabbing his coat and making his way to the door. Tommy pretty much knew this was going to happen, but he also had to go to work. “I’ll come downstairs with you.” The reporter felt bad about leaving Elissa and Isolde with the fluffy princess, but both men had things to do. Interviewing Xillia had to wait.

Tommy grabbed his sports bag, and seemed to forget everything about the promises of dinner. He had someone he needed to see.

Madame Rose.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Xillia turned her gaze towards the different humans as they spoke and mentally documented their words and explanations. All four of these humans were interesting in her eyes, and she found that she enjoyed their company. She still didn’t understand what they were really talking about, nor what the pictures contained, but it didn’t bother her. Her tail happily wiggled back and forth as her eyes wandered about the room in curiosity. There were so many strange things on Earth that she simply wanted to grab and examine, like these humans! Though from what she had gathered they probably wouldn’t like being picked up and examined like dolls. She watched as the two male humans started to get up and leave, and tilted her head very far to the side as she watched one of the males press his face against one of the females. “Oooooh! What was that?!” She shouted as the males exited the room, and then scurried over to Elissa, who she got very close to. She even leaned down somewhat close like Tommy had to her. “Was was that thing you two did? What is the purpose? Is it healthy? Does it feel good? Do you do that anywhere else? Can I try?!” Her eyes were probably sparkling like diamonds right now as she stared at Elissa in a crazed state of curiosity.

 

Chor:  Everything was a whirlwind. Isolde was barely aware of the conversation and motion of people around her, but something serious- a sort of plan you might say- was silently happening in the room. There was an uneasiness roiling in her now empty stomach, and not for that reason. There was something about the way eyes glanced around the table and sentences were formed in intense fashions that told Isolde that it was going down; immediately. Frank had come to a standing position and was speaking with Tommy about some mob contact. It wasn’t surprising, really, considering how much fucked up shit had already happened in the past 24 hours. When it comes to the mob, your common enemy makes you a foe…until you become necessary for disposal. Claura often had worked with mob contacts in Vice as many of the girls had contracts with the many families seated deep within the city. She’d told stories, mostly just simple things that she could mention without reprimand, but Isa knew not to meddle with those kinds of people. Frank was leaving? A blink, her mouth opening for protest, closed and reopened her eyes swiftly as he looked to her.

But-” there were no words she could think of that she’d rather say than experience what happened next. As his lips made first contact, a dark hunger turned the hornets in her stomach to butterflies. If he had not so soon left her, she didn’t imagine she would be able to resist continuation of this kiss. Her eyes searched his and in them saw nearly the same sort of determination and desperation that she’d noticed when she followed him from the pizza place. It was so frightening to see, her breath caught. Frank was leaving. Was he coming back? With no one to be there for him, would he fare as well as the last time he ventured into the night seeking redemption? Isolde’s bone-white fingers curled into her palms, pressing her nails dangerously into them. Even after he left, she did not speak. Xillia was reinvigorated, asking more questions than Isolde was even prepared to answer. She could do naught. Swallow. Blink. Breathe.

 

VunG:  Elissa would look up from tending to poor Isolde with a raised eyebrow as the men talked about their needs for work. It still concerned her that Tommy had a connection within the friggin’ mob and that they were playing some sort of political game with those murderers. Still, it was what they had to go on, and the fact that the mob was even interested told her that the bastard probably already worked for them and they were just trying to get some loyalty points with someone else. Having a detective on your payroll would be valuable–not that she expected Frank to go that far, but that was probably the thought. That all said, the look on Tommy’s face when his brother came up made her curious, and while she didn’t bother asking at the moment, she made sure to log it away.

Eventually the guys made to leave, and she would make sure to give Tommy a hug before he took off, nodding to the request to keep an eye on Fluffy. Granted, she didn’t know what all she could do in that regard, but she’d give it a shot. The sight of Frank kissing Isolde threw her for a loop, but like she’d been thinking throughout this whole thing–it was none of her business. Sighing, she gave them a gesture halfway between a wave and a salute, mouthing ‘godspeed’ to them as the door closed behind them.

And then the moment she turned around she had an alien filling the entirety of her vision. So many friggin questions! And of course she wanted to kiss because apparently it was something new to her–friggin’ wonderful. Sighing, she stepped back from the alien a bit and pulled out the notepad again and began writing a response… knowing full well that this was going to be a very long day… and that she would probably have to explain some things to her since Frank and Isolde hadn’t. As she wrote though, she noticed the look on Isolde’s face, and realized that there was probably something going on beyond Frank and her being in a relationship. Sighing, she finished the note and handed it to the alien before heading over to Isolde, touching her on the shoulder and looking her in the eye, a concerned expression on her face, trying to silently convey that she was checking if she was alright. As for the note… ~Clearly those two didn’t tell you much. I’ll answer as many questions I can, though I’m going to need something bigger than this notepad to do that. Let me check on Isolde, she looks pretty rattled, then I’ll get a notebook and sit down with you, okay?~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heads or Tails – GS.

 

https://i2.wp.com/www.hollywoodreporter.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/modal_800/2014/09/gotham_police_station_set_design.jpg

Scene setting: NYPD Police headquarters.

co-written with Chor.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Sitting in behind his desk, the Commander was smoking a cuban cigar and staring out the office window. He seemed a million miles away, a carefree look on his face. You’d think after the night before, then having to attend to the crime scene of Joey Patone’s murder that he would be still showing some annoyance about the whole affair, but surprisingly he wasn’t. A knock at the door broke his concentration and he took one last puff of his cigar before shouting “ENTER.”

A young constable opened the door, then in behind him was another officer who was holding one of the evidence boxes from Joey’s apartment. “You wanted this brought here, Sir?” The first officer asked, motioning to the second to bring in the box. Not even bothering to get up from his desk, Commander Bracks simply motioned with his right hand for the box to be set down on the right hand side of his desk where there was enough space. The second officer tread into the room and set the box down carefully. Both officers then stood there silently for a moment. News was buzzing around the office about the morning operation, the fact Detective Malone was there when Joey got shot. Rumors were rife, but the Commander was quick to discipline anyone who spoke about it. The Commander then stared angrily at the two men, as though they were loitering. “Haven’t you two clowns got better things to do than to stand there with your mouths open ready to catch flies. DISMISSED!” He roared. Neither men waited for a second time to be berated, hurrying out of the office and closing the door. The Commander leaned over slightly in his chair to see if anyone was trying to look through the office door glass, then when he saw the close was clear, he tore the evidence tape off the box and lifted the lid. Reaching in he took out a handful of photographs that were taken from Joey’s dark room. A smirk appearing on his face as he held one of the more….erotic photos up…..till the phone rang.

The Commander set down the photograph on his desk and reached for his phone, picking it up.

“Bracks.”

“Nice work this morning, Commander. I must say, you earn your commission.” The voice on the other end had a slight accent to it. Italian. “You got done fitting up Malone for Joey’s murder yet?”

The Commander then remembered that Isa was yet to submit her report. “I’m working on it as we speak.” He lied. The man on the other end was no fool. “Uh huh. Well, maybe I didn’t emphasize the importance to get rid of Malone.” The Commander coughed and tried to keep his cool. “I understand, I do. Look, if I have to squeeze a certain forensics officer to fudge the evidence I will.”

The man on the other end of the phone laughed. “You better, or that pretty young wife of yours is going to be a new star in one of my snuff films. Got it?” The phone call ended, with the Commander sitting stony faced in his chair. He had only recently gotten married to a young Thai mail order bride. She was innocent to all of the Commander’s back room deals.

“Shit.” The Commander muttered, slamming down the phone. As soon as Isa had done her report, the Commander was going to have a few words with her.

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa entered the building as she normally would, except her body was shaking like a wet cat. One of the guards asked if she was alright after she was buzzed in, to which she replied she was ‘just dandy’. Not that he cared. He’s never spoken a word to her in all of her time working in the department. Isa’s eyes grazed across the room as she bee-lined for the elevator. The Commander was on the phone and the look on his face was a mix between terror and anger. He slammed the phone down in such a manner that she jumped. The sour smell that perforated the department was now infiltrating her lungs. One push of the button labeled “1” and down she went. The entrance level was actually level 2, as this was a converted building.
She’d hyperventilated the whole ride back, much to Khalil’s demise. He kept asking if she wanted to pull over, thinking that the putrid smell of the decaying body was getting to her. Little did he know…

“Isa,” someone called her name and she nearly died of a heart attack. Her eyes shot toward the sign. It was Ricardo; he would attempt to apologize. Isa read it in his eyes and didn’t have time for this.

“Look, Isa, I…” He began, but she cut him off with a raised palm.

“Ricardo, forg-” She began, but quick realized something. Ricardo still believed in the goodness of the force. He thought if the Commander knew he’d tampered with evidence, that might be the end of the career. She fought the urge to just laugh right there. Poor boy, didn’t know what he was getting into.

“Okay, Ricardo, I promise I won’t let anyone know if you do me a favour?” She countered, acting sincere. His face softened and eyes brightened. He was like a puppy who just happened to be working the evidence locker. Usually she could try to squeeze visits to the locker out of Molly, the normal ‘keeper of the things’, but with her being on Maternity leave that left Ricardo here alone. His eager nod just brightened her whole day.

“I need any files on Frank Malone. Not by him, on him. Also, those of Claura von Goethe. G-o-e-t-h-e. Got it?” She was hoping to get the report that claimed Frank as a suspect and study it. She also knew what other things would be in there. He set on his way to the back through the shelves.

“Sure thing. Hey, I’m sorry about-“ He started again, Isa rolling her eyes.

“Really, Ricardo, just get to it,” She interrupted, but that didn’t stop him. He was intent on apologizing about the earlier debacle.

“No, it’s the files. The ones for…G-goethe?” He said, struggling with the pronunciation like he was staring at a card that said it. Isa’s heart stopped.

“What about them?” Isa uttered passively, but shakily. He snaked back to her with one file in his hand…and it wasn’t her sister’s.

“They’re not here…can’t read the name, so no idea who took ’em out,” He said regretfully, taking in the look on her face. Suddenly it hit him.

“Oh shit, that’s your sister, isn’t it? The one who went missing? I’m so so-“ He began, but Isa ripped the file from his hand and stormed back to the elevator. She couldn’t get downstairs fast enough. Claura’s file had been removed, probably destroyed. They knew closing it wouldn’t have been enough. As the elevator made its final ‘ding’ on the Morgue floor, the doors grumbled open and she near burst out. Khalil was down the hall in the break room and she saw him watch her dash to her office through the large windows. He knew better than to follow, so she spent the next thirty minutes alternating between crying and throwing things across the room. Once her fit had finally receded, she sauntered with her evidence to the lab. The gun was already there, so she set immediately into her ballistics report. This would be the best damn report she’s ever written.
After a total of two hours and three minutes continually firing and searching weapons on the database and comparing the bullet found in the woman and the deceased male, she finally was able to put it to rest. There was no possible way that Frank Malone’s gun shot the bullet that killed that man, no matter her motives. Not that there were any. Everyone seemed generally shocked about the assassination, the woman Isa imagined because she was going into shock.

Sitting back in her tall wheeled chair, Isa’s eyes finally pulled back from the microscope. The proof was solid, the facts complete and the report bulletproof. A burning sensation in her chest, though, told her something terrible was going to happen. She sighed and wheeled over to her computer and searched the database for ‘Frank Malone’. Taking down his number on her yellow, coffee-stained legal pad and printing her report, she almost wheeled away to give her report to the Commander. However, she thought better and saved the report file, including all of the data files and photos, onto a small, clear flash drive. Snatching up the report from the printed, she left the office with more confidence then she’s had in a long, long time, to deliver to the crooked man upstairs what he needed to see…
‘knock knock’

 

Razorbackwriter:   ~Knock knock~

The sound of someone’s knuckles rapping on the office door brought Bracks out of his dazed state. The man was still staring at the phone handle he had just set down. He stared at it as if it were infected. It was not the phone of course, but rather the man on the other end that made the Commander feel physically sick. Truly stuck between a rock and a hard place, the Commander had to find a way to incriminate the Detective and his hopes that the testing and subsequent report by Isa were high. Little did he know that the woman was not going to bring him the smoking gun report. The ballistics tests and follow up report would show inconclusively that the detective was innocent of the crimes that the Commander was trying to fit him up for. The Commander pushed back in his chair which groaned in protest due to the Commander’s bulk. The idea that cops lived on a diet of soda and donuts seemed to be accurate when you took in the Commander’s obese state. When was the last time he ever passed a fitness test? Was he even fit for duty as a member of the NYPD? Probably not. The only reason he still held the position was because he was nothing more than a pawn of power. Those with total control liked to have lackeys like Bracks in charge of what would become a bent operation. Numerous reports, and evidence had gone missing over the past six months. Millions of dollars worth of narcotics and weapons vanishing from the evidence rooms. Many young cadets were often put in charge of these facilities, later to become scapegoat in the Commander’s schemes. If only there was someone brave enough to speak out. Someone with the balls to face up to what was a corrupt force. So long as Commander Bracks was in charge, justice was not even going to shine it’s light upon the city.

Seeing the female outline of Isa through the distressed glass door pane, Bracks barked “Enter”

As the door opened, the Commander rose to standing as though he was going to use his size and height as a way to intimidate the young woman. Staring down at her, he noted she had a file in her hands. No doubt this was the long awaited report. It had taken a few hours, and now it was time to learn of its contents.

“Took you long enough.” The Commander grumbled. There was no smile or real emotion on his face. He wanted to appear cold and detached. It was no secret of his hatred for Detective Malone, the whole office knew. How on earth Frank lasted this long was a miracle. Tapping his toe on the wooden office floor, he then lifted his chin and snorted like a malley bull.

“So….did Detective Frank Malone shoot Joey Patone and Elissa von Pourtales?”

~RB~

 

Chor:  

Isa liked to pretend the possibility of being murdered in her sleep didn’t scare her. The fact that it very much did made it difficult for her not to fear this conversation. Bracks held power, and not just power with the NYPD, but power in much higher, more dangerous places. She’d completely dissolved into her thoughts until hearing Bracks’ loud mouth calling her in. The knob was cold, since no one really used this door except him. He doesn’t get many visitors. The door creaked furiously, as if upset about all the evil it has seen. Isa’s heartbeat quickened at the sight of the commander, but she repeated a single line in her head again and again as she walked over to the chair in front of his desk; facing him. For Claura, for Claura, for Claura. It made her calmer, more ready for his backlash. Obviously this was only half true as she was also doing this for Frank, who didn’t deserve this kind of betrayal. She’d read his file, she knew the good he’d done for the force. It’s a damn shame that the good ones are the ones who get this kind of shit.

Bracks’ spoke and she raised her brows. Has he ever even read a ballistics report, let alone done one? Isa worked so thoroughly that it would take others’ hours upon hours to finish. More proof of unappreciation for Forensics in a whole. Maybe you should do it next time, she thought, then immediately recanted it. That would be about a billion times worse by far. Isa couldn’t even imagine Bracks doing any real police work at all. By the look of him, he didn’t do much of anything except eat and lie. The fact that he was standing was very apparent to her. It was intimidating only because of Isa’s seriously under-nourished size. He was easily two or three times her weight and the way he was standing it was like he knew it. He purposefully made himself bigger, more scary so maybe she’d back down. The question that arose next was the question of the day. She held the paper in her hand out toward him, her other hand fidgeting with some forceps in her coat jacket.

“You will find that Frank Malone absolutely and unequivocally did not shoot Joseph Patone or Elissa von Portuales,” Isa replied, her voice stern and confident despite the situation. The only thing she had definite faith in anymore was Science. Science isn’t biased and cannot lie. You cannot bribe it and it does not fear.  

Razorbackwriter:  The rising red flush on the Commander’s face was like that of a pending volcanic eruption. Purple veins pulsing so close to the skin that they almost were protruding through his sickly pink flesh. Eye sockets drooped slightly to reveal wet watery chasms, from too much drink. Those words of finality in the answer to the question of Detective Frank Malone’s innocence were like a death knell to the Commander. Age lines appeared to grow as he stared down the forensics officer; the words of the man on the phone still going around and around in his head. The words that the Commander wanted to let fly simply went unsaid, as he had to just nod at Isa’s findings. The Commander reached out and snatched the report file from Isa’s hand and then rounded his desk; taking a seat. Again the chair groaned and protested with loud creaks as the Commander settled. He flipped open the file and silently read the report. Bracks didn’t even offer Isa a chair. He simply made her wait. Each turn of a page was preempted by a finger lick so he didn’t miss a thing. But by the last page it was clear that isa didn’t miss a thing either. Her report was solid and factual. Closing the file, Bracks tossed it on his desk haphazardly as though it was yesterday’s paper. There would be no words of appreciation or thanks for the speed in which Isa took to write up the report. The Commander glanced out the office window, deep in thought. Without looking at Isa he simply said….

“Dismissed.”

If Isa left the office without further word, it would only be then that the Commander would watch her go. Once she was well out of ear shot, the Commander picked up the file and tapped the edge to his bottom lip. His eyes narrowed into slits as he pondered, or rather plotted what to do. He needed Frank to be found guilty. He needed to pin a murder on him to appease the men upstairs. But how?

Glancing down at the file in his hands, he simply turned in his chair and dumped the file in the trash bin. Knowing full well that there would be a copy of the file in the forensics, it was going to be one hell of an operation to make it….disappear. Either that…or have something unfortunate happen to Isa.

The Commander eased back in his seat, drumming his fingers together as he mused on what to do. Taking a coin out of his pocket, he turned it over between his fingers before flicking it into the air. The coin spun and spun before coming down to land as the Commander said…“Heads…”

It landed tails side up.

Luck was on Isa’s side.

For now…..

~RB~

 

Chor:  Isa wore a look of complete and utter satisfaction: on the inside. She didn’t let him know how pleased she was with herself, mostly because the more sensible half of her was scared witless. What if he threatened her? Who would even believe her? Much to her surprise, he just read very silently through her report. Almost painfully slow…
He ordered her to exit and by jove she did. No amount of money in the world could have kept Isa in that dingy, pungent office any longer. With a nod of her head, Isa’s feet scrambled from the room and through the maze of desks until she reached the front door. The flash drive with all the information she needed was held tight in her sweating palm and the picture she’d confiscating illegally from the crime scene was burning a hole in her pocket and her character. It was unlike her to be so sneaky, but she’d stepped in a serious shit-pile with this case. If anyone else had been dispatched, the case would probably already be closed with Frank in jail and his cohorts at the bottom of the river.
The air outside caught in her lungs, the smell of cars and hot dogs filling and choking them. Her hands fell to her jacket pockets and the left found a crumpled paper. Pulling it out, her attention drifted down to read it. Frank’s number she’d written from his file. It was only seconds later the phone was ringing. He needed to know just how difficult things were going to be.
Hello?” She whispered, when the ringing ended and a voice broke through the silence.

 

 

Frank takes the heat – GS.

Scene setting : Fifth and Maple Street; Joey’s apartment.

co-written with Chor and VunG.

 

VunG:  Elissa’s face remained stuck in an expression of intense pain and concentration as she tried to keep herself aware, and even as Tom and Frank came to her aid she tried to reach out for her gun again. No, she wasn’t about to try and pull some last stand maneuver, but she damn sure wanted to be armed. Every one of the extra shots made her blood boil, and even with her wound she wanted to fire back. Of course, she realized pretty quickly what a bad idea that was, and would promptly put her hand back into place while Tommy perched over her, stating the obvious. (No fucking shit,) she mouthed, not really caring if he actually saw or understood her words. They didn’t have time for the obvious to come down. But… she had to give up the fight, and nodded and remained in place while he found something to help bandage her.

She was aware of Frank returning fire, but beyond that Elissa was unable to really contribute much here. Still… apparently everything calmed down… which gave her enough time to bring her hand away and punch the floor furiously, slamming her head against the couch she was leaning against as she kicked herself for not noticing that damn sniper. She’d made longer shots than that, much less seen them, how the hell had she missed that?! Was she really slipping that much?! Was she really that much of a has-been?

Of course, just to make matters worse, Joey’s significant other came in at about that moment to see the carnage. Frank was quick on it, of course, and was able to get things under control. Grunting softly, she reached up to the buttons of her coat and undid them as quickly as she could manage, ignoring the pain of moving the arm involved. The moment the thing was off to allow for a little better access to her injury, her right hand returned to its place while the left went limp, tears of pain streaming down her face as she bit her lip. Under her jacket she was wearing what amounted to a grey tank top. Tommy would be able to see the wound clearly if he could get her hand away, and if he was paying attention he’d notice scars similar to her neck’s along both her arms and a single mark on the edge of her right shoulder where she’d been grazed by another bullet.

She was absolutely oblivious to the calls being made… except for Frank’s mention of an 11-41. Immediately shame overwhelmed her and she looked down, biting her lip as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Damn it all… was that all she was now? A freaking ambulance call?!

 

Chor:  Now Isa wouldn’t have called herself busy, but drinking her shitty coffee from the conference/break room down the hall just past the morgue was the one thing that she preferred to be uninterrupted in her morning routine. She guessed, though, that in the city that never, ever sleeps, ten in the morning was not too early for a homicide. Truthfully, she had been on overnight duty and just slept in her office. The lounge served comfortble enough for at most six hours of light, non-murder-interrupted sleep. The crackling of the heat coming on in the room caused her to wake about thirty-seven minutes earlier and her hair was still a raggedy, sad mess.
This, of course, homicidal maniacs did not take into consideration when they started killing for the day. One sip into the sludge shite in the cracked “Best Mom Ever” mug and the radio exploded with sound, turning her quiet world upside down and causing her to drop her liquid breakfast onto the counter. The mug bounced off the edge of the granite and tumbled to the floor, creating a scene more annoying than she wished to handle at the moment. Listening closely to the radio, she stood unblinking. 10-71. Not for her. 11-41. Still not her. Her fingers twitched. Now that she was alert, ready for it, she eyed the device hungrily. So quickly her emotions could change. When nothing else spewed from the muffled speakers and the sound quit its reverberation in the accoustic room, she bent and retrieved her cup. The handle was broken and where the piece sepearated was seen layers upon layers of all sorts of glue of different consistencies and colors. This cup is old, a piece of fine china in their little kitchinette, and she would put it back together again. Just like she always does.
A towel is procured from a bland gray cabinet and used to mop up the black mess. The coffee was actually so thick, it nearly reminded her of coagulated blood. A small smile tugged at her lips as she threw the towel in the ‘to-be-washed’ bin, where it woud sit for about a week and a half until she washed it at home. Her second in command for this shift, Khalil, opened the door gently, holding fresh scrubs she only imagined he planned to change into.
“I got word from the buses it’s homicide. Keep an ear out, I’m headed to change, you’re on dead guy duty, I’ll drive,” He said. Khalil didn’t have an office, mostly because he was new and not because he didn’t deserve one. He worked just as hard as any of the others, just Isa worked harder; and she was more qualified. She nodded, though, and followed him as he left the entrance. There was a pretty good chance they’d be seeing hearing someone call in a body within the next ten minutes. She pulled her coat on and plucked her clip board and pen off the shelf, waiting patiently in the corpse-mobile.

 

Razorbackwriter:  The street below Joey’s apartment, was now filled with brass and the blazing lights of squad cars and of course the ambulance. Tommy sat outside in the hall, his jacket now a disheveled mess, covered in blood and bits of broken glass. After having answered questions to one of the other officers, he was ordered outside while Frank was getting a dressing down from his superior.

“No warrant? Jesus, Frank. What were you thinking? You are just damn lucky this joint is full of drugs.” The Commander scowled, as he was handed a bag from one of the CSI teams. “More in the bedroom, Sir.” The rookie announced, as others were searching throughout the apartment for more. Frank had been consoling Patty, who was now being taken away by a special officer for the bereaved. Joey was laying on the floor under a sheet, while another cop was dusting for prints. There had been no word yet on the dark room, and this had Frank on tender hooks.

“Sir, I’m not going to lie. Joey Patone sent me some photographs and that is the reason I came here. I dragged Elissa and Tommy Xo in with me. So if you are going to throw the book at anyone, throw it at me.”

The Commander raised a brow, and then asked. “What photographs?” At this point, Frank directed the Commander to the dark room. The two gentlemen walked in and this was when the Commander’s face became quite stern. “So he liked a little photography. What has that got to do with anything?” The Commander not being able to see a connection. He could see the p*rn pictures, but then he saw the ones of the beast.

“What the devil?” He pulled one down and stared at it. “He was into Sci fi photography?”

Frank came up behind him and said. “Sir…look at the date.” It was the same date as the day Rory died. The image taken from the alley below. “Sir…that is the thing that took Rory. Joey…saw it too.”

“AHAHAHAHA. What a load of crock. He was fitting you up, Frank. This is ludicrous.” The commander wasn’t about to believe Frank. Who would? He spun on his heel and got in Frank’s face. “You got a dead man out there, and you have motive.”

“What?” It was incredulous to think that Frank would kill Joey, if he was the only other witness to the death of Rory. “Sir, you’ve got this all wrong. A sniper shot Joey through the window. Ask Elissa…..or Tommy.”

 

~RB~