Thread: Dirty Glass (Seven x Pocket)

Some stories begin with the end of another... Strasbourg, France A single camplight swung gently from its safety cord, strung over the bare rafters of the dusty warehouse each waver of the light would illuminate a different part of the old building - to the right was a seemingly endless pile of used tires, stacked up to the fifteen-foot-high ceiling. To the left was an array of wooden crates filled with copper coil and pipes on top of one of the crates sat a bloodied crowbar, a screwdriver, and what appeared to be a wire hand rake. The light finally slowed in its travels and settled at the end of its cord, focusing downwards where what was left of a man sat tied to a chair the chair itself sat in an inflatable kiddie pool, the base of which was coated in an inch of dried blood. Two men stood at the radius of the circle of light one of them lit a clove cigarette while the other looked on in silence. You're sure he's dead? The man with the cigarette rolled his eyes skyward, What you want I should do, cut off his head? he asked, smoke pouring out with his words, Look, look, alright? Legs are broken. See those bits in bottom of child pool? Fingers, all off left hand. Face is gone looks like Aaron Eckhart. He's dead. There was a long silence, a hesitation as though this explanation wasn't enough, but then the other man spoke again, And the ring - you have it? He had it on, like you said he would. That's not what I asked, Costin. The ring. Do you have it? Costin's broad shoulders rolled slowly upwards, I cut off his hand, he said dismissively, gesturing broadly to the kiddie pool, It will be somewhere in there, yes? Now, we finished here, or you want souvenier? Maybe a tooth? I get you one, Costin said, picking up pliers and moving towards the body, only to have the other man stop him with a gloved hand on his chest, shaking his head. No. I don't want a tooth. I just - that's it. You can go. I'll take care of the rest. Saying your goodbyes, Vornamen? Costin asked. Something like that. Costin regarded the mangled body one last time before turning away and heading out, pulling off his latex gloves as he went. The other man remained with the body for some time afterwards, moving slowly around it like a vulture circling a prospective meal, even leaning in close once or twice as though to inspect it, though there was little left of the facial features. After some time of this, he suddenly dug his bare hands into the thick, black mess at the bottom of the pool, ignoring the way it was dirtying the fine french cuffs of his suit and searching like a madman until he hit something solid. Rising - his arms coated up to the elbows in blood - he brought his prize up to the light, running a thumb over the top of it to uncover it from the clotted grime it was hidden beneath. Under it was a thick band of stainless steel, imprinted with the simple silhouette of a bird. He tilted it back and forth under the light and watched it glint and wink at him before tossing it in the air once and catching it - he moved to leave, but hesitated, turning back and hesitantly bringing his hand towards the body as though suddenly squeamish. Glancing around once to be sure he was alone, he pressed his fingers to the skinny neck, nodding his head when he found no pulse. I almost expected you to spring back to life. he said to the body, drawing his hand away and straightening up, But no. Not this time. Not - no. No. He offered a slow smile, Goodbye Mr. Malcone. He glanced back once more before he left, just to be sure the corpse didn't wave goodbye with its remaining hand. --- Las Vegas, Nevada Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department Present Day So this Hayes guy, you think he can handle this? Deputy Sheriff Rogan looked up from his pile of paperwork and stared at the scuffed soles that were propped up on the edge of his broad desk he reached out with an enormous hand and swiped them away like a bear swatting at a particularly persistent fly. As a result, Sergeant Belfort had to struggle to regain her balance and keep from falling off her chair, having been mid-way through a stick of beef jerky and refusing to drop it for the sake of having another hand available to break her fall. I wouldn't have signed off on him if I didn't think he was capable. Rogan replied mildly, squinting down at his papers, You shouldn't eat that shit, Carrie, you're too young for a heart attack. Yeah, well, I'm not the one who needs a pair of trifocals to see two inches in front of me, yanno? Belfort replied with one finger stuck in her mouth, picking at a molar as she slouched back in her seat, So signing off on this guy's got nothin' to do with Barry going apeshit? Detective Mir did not go apeshit , he had to take a leave of absence for medical reasons. And I don't need trifocals, the light in here is bad. Rogan replied patiently, only to be answered with a cracked, rough laugh from his colleague. Who're you trying to fool here, Roy? I was here on his last day, he tried to attack the Fed Ex guy with a swingline stapler and called him a terrorist. And you at least need to get contacts, age is crawling up on you, man. Rogan ran a hand back through his greying hair, still squinting at the papers before finally giving up and putting them down, sitting back in his seat and looking at Belfort, who was fighting with the jerky like a dog with a fresh bone. Though no one would dare to say it, the pint-sized Sergeant was as cute as a button and about as classy as a NASCAR windbreaker attached to said button her attitude hadn't been the result of over-compensating for her size or the fact she was a woman, but had just come with the entire package. She had made her way up to her position by kicking ass in every aspect of her job and beating the shit out of guys twice her size. Alright. Barry didn't exactly take a vacation. Rogan admitted. I don't know, getting pumped full of Clozapine seems like a pretty decent way to go out. We'll put some in your cake when you retire, yeah? Belfort replied, offering up a grin that Rogan rolled his eyes at, But you didn't really answer my question here Roy. You signed on a new guy 'cause you had to, you couldn't just leave Mir's case hanging open and no one around here was gonna take it. So do you really think this new guy can handle a case like Malcone's? For a long moment, Rogan was silent he scratched at the side of his face and looked off at the wall, Well, he said, If he can't, maybe we can just get the department to start investing in padding for the walls in here.