Thread: Empire - City of Corruption (Black_Out and Violet8518)

Nora Grey crouched on the rusty metal grid of the fire escape, peering down the dark alley to where it dumped into an run down city park. Shed been sitting there for a while, blinking back exhaustion, waiting for any sign of the drug deal that she knew was going to go down soon. A breeze blew by, bringing with it the stench of the city garbage, an open sewer somewhere. She wrinkled her nose from under the blue mask she wore. Sometimes having enhanced senses was more of a curse than a blessing. Still, it gave her a clear view of the two men whod pulled up on motorcycles some time before, but they hadnt moved from their positions, and Nora had stayed in hers. It had been a long day, starting with a crack-of-dawn meeting at the marketing firm where Nora worked Pelotin, Dank, and Grey no relation. Theyd just taken on a big campaign to try to restore the public image of Empire Citys police force, an effort that Nora thought was likely to be wasted on the jaded and tired citizens of the city. But she wasnt a partner-- yet-- and therefore had no say in the matter. It hadnt helped that shed been out late the night before, too following up on leads and trying to find out more information on where the citys newest designer drug, Euphoria, was coming from. Night after night shed struck out. Supposed meeting spots had been empty, warehouses abandoned with no sign of the drug or the people who sold it. Shed found lots of little fish-- users, dealers on the lowest levels-- but no one who seemed to know anything of any use. She knew what the drug could do to people, the type of hold it had. Her boyfriend-- ex boyfriend, she reminded herself-- had had a little sister whod gotten addicted. She was little more than a walking zombie by the time she finally overdosed on it. Theyd found her down by the dock, naked. Shed been dead several days. They didnt bother with the autopsy. They rarely did with the addicts anymore. But it was clear that shed endured some unspeakable horrors before she died. Nora yawned, struggling to stay alert. From what she understood, the guys meeting in the park tonight werent big fish, but they werent little fish, either. The two guys on the motorcycles were intermediaries. They got their product from the manufacturer, or, more accurately, from a broker who knew the manufacturer. The guy they were meeting was more of a mid level dealer. He had a set of men who reported to him who dealt directly to the good citizens of Empire. She was so close, she could almost taste it. She needed proof of who they were. But it was getting late, and still there were only the two guys on the motorcycles Her phone vibrated in a pouch on her belt, and she jumped, her hand immediately fumbling to reach for it. She glanced at the screen with a frown, cupping her free hand over it to hide some of the glare. It was turned down to its lowest level, at least, and her eyes had no trouble making out the words. Hi Honey. Its mom. of course its you, Nora thought with a shake of her head. Her mom still hadnt figured out that caller ID was a thing . Just wanted to remind you about Nan-Nans birthday tomorrow. You said youd bring the salad? Nora nearly groaned. She had forgotten, of course, or nearly so. Her grandmothers birthday, and they lived a couple of hours away, in the suburbs. She put the phone away without responding. She was going to have to make an effort. Shed missed last years birthday. And hadnt seen her family for her mothers, grandfathers, or her own birthday. Idly she lifted her hand to nibble at a fingernail, a nervous habit, but remembered that her hands and forearms were covered by the deep navy blue gloves she wore with her uniform. Besides the gloves, which stretched almost to her elbows, she wore a pair of bracers, one on each forearm. The had the feel and limited flexibility of leather, but the dull silvery-grey shine of metal.They extended over the backs of her hands, and a half-dollar sized gem was set into the material. The gems seemed clear, but they had a curious silvery quality to them, almost like mirrors, although they didnt reflect anything. Then she spotted movement down on the street, and straightened up with renewed interest. She idly pushed back a strand of long hair that had come loose from the high ponytail she wore, and peered curiously at the van that pulled into the parking lot. As the headlights shut off and her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, she saw the glow from the mans cigarette illuminate his face as he stepped out. She recognized him from the description shed gotten from some of the people at the bar last night. It had been a seedy place , the window illuminated with a blinking light advertising cheap beer. Its patrons nursed bottles of beer and glasses with bottom shelf whiskey and were reluctant to tell her much, until she picked up their tabs. She shook her head, watching as the guy from the van crossed the parking lot. One of the bikers was armed, probably the other one too. She was half tempted to see how this would play out, but she didnt want things to get out of hand and lose her opportunity. She wanted to question one of the bikers, if she could. She wanted to know who he worked for, where he got the drugs from. Then she could make sure they were all stunned and make an anonymous call to the police. Nora started making her way down to the ground level. She moved silently, swiftly. She didnt bother with a cape-- in her experience, it tended to billow, to make noise and catch the light. She was, however, wearing a stretchy dark blue leotard, leggings, and a pair of knee-high black leather boots. The body-hugging clothes kept her agile, made it easier to to slip away without worrying about them getting caught on anything. And besides, Nora wasnt above liking the way they made her look, either. The spandex hugged her curves in all the right places. Once on the ground, she moved swiftly to circle through the overgrown foliage that had once been well-kept hedges, and maneuvered behind the two men on bikes. She could hear them talking, now. It was easy to pick out the sound from the other sounds of the city surrounding them. One of the bikers, the one holding the duffel bag, spoke. This aint a consignment gig. Either you got the money or you dont. And if you dont, then you dont get no stuff. Understood?