Bigtime (Part Three)

Please listen to the Theme song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6jCJZEFIto
The Ringer in:
Bigtime
(Part Three)
Some people describe piecing together information like solving a puzzle. It’s not. Well not for me at least. For me, it’s like writing a paragraph. The sentences are given to you and common sense should do the rest; context clues and whatnot. Though, I guess that’s why I get jobs. Best I can figure is others have a hard time with common sense. Especially in this new world where anything common and normal got kicked in the ass and hauled off to Auschwitz never to be seen again. I can get the sense out of things; ask the hard questions and do the hard things. Things that make grown men cry. Grown men like Tommy.
I had worked him over for the better part of the night. Kick after kick, punch after punch Tommy felt every lick I gave him. Sometimes he would clam up spout’n that he was afraid they would kill him if he sang. Other times he would spill out the info so fast hitting him was the only way to slow him down. I had to filter what was pertinent knowledge and what was guilt ridden slop he thought I wanted to hear: the first time he stole something; the time he killed a cat on purpose stuff like that. The things people will say when you put a little pressure on ‘em.  He spilled all the story I needed in the end. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get my next lead. I untied him and told him he could go, but he just slumped on the floor staring at his hands like he was holding his dying sister in them. I shrugged, closed the door to the room I had him in, took out a smoke, and thought about the info.
Tommy told me about a hideout where the mid-level goons made there roost. Apparently it was the waiting house until they got the message from their boss to deal with problems that popped up around town. It was also the distribution center for their various drug operations inside the city. That part didn’t concern me. I could care less about what scratch is going where and to whom. People in this city all had problems. If some of them chose to deal with it by drowning there blow holes in white powder who was I to judge. More importantly, my job was about shanked fighters not blow. I had the address and the number of guys I was likely to be up against. All that was left was how best to approach. That’s when I heard it.
Ringing.
It was coming from the room I had left Tommy in. I kicked open the door to find the little rat holding a cell phone clutched in his mits. He was staring at me like a deer in headlights not knowing what to do. ‘Rule one you idiot; always check the suspect for stuff on their person.’ I thought kicking myself for forgetting. I rushed him and grabbed his neck pinning him to the ground. Tommy threw up his hands in surrender still holding the phone. The ringing continued.
“You do what I tell you, got it?” I had to think fast. This could be my way into the castle and I wasn’t about to let the luck I was riding on buck me off now. “You tell them I’m dead. You got me? You killed me and you are on your way back now. Understood?” Tommy frantically shook his head up and down. It was a risk. Tommy could easily snitch on me sending all manner of super hulks breaking down my door. If that happened not only would I be a dead man, but my lead to the end of this case would disappear quicker than a wallet in a whore house. I grabbed Tommy by his shoulders and pulled him upright. I took a deep breath. “ Answer it.”
Tommy pressed the answer button. I held my breath.
“Yeah…………..No……………….No……………….The Ringer?” I clenched my jaw tight waiting for all of my work to unravel.
“N-no….he’s dead………………He tried to jump me………….Yeah like a watermelon…………….Ok…….Ok………im on my way.” The sound of the end button released the cure to all of my tension.  I let go of him and we both let out a breath that echoed in the room. Tommy rubbed his bloody face.
“What now?” He asked, his voice trembling.
“What now?” I stood up and straightened my tie. “I’m gonna go kill your pals. Then I’m gonna find out who your boss is and kill them too” Tommy didn’t flinch. He didn’t have it in him anymore to be afraid. He was beat and he knew it. He slumped to one side, leaning his body against the wall. I was done with him. Tommy had given me all I needed to move to the next step. His pals were off guard and this made them vulnerable. I had the edge. I walked through the broken door to the closet where my shotgun was hidden and retrieved it. I needed an equalizer. There was no way I could take those goons on without it. As I fiddled with chambering the shells I heard Tommy stand up and begin to walk toward the front door. “And just where are you going?”
“Me……I-I don’t know.” He was emotionally dead. Hell a few minutes ago he was almost real dead. I couldn’t blame him. If anything I felt bad about taking his power if only slightly. See, I hadn’t just taken away his power. I had taken away his ability to stand equal with anyone left alive in this world. I had crippled him. He was a fragile human in a world full of monsters. I wonder now, looking back on it, if I was the worst monster of all. I pulled out my wallet and handed him a fifty.
“Get yourself some food. “ He stared at it like someone just told him he had herpes. He couldn’t understand it, and to be honest, neither could I. I guess I just felt that in that moment I needed to give him a break.
“T-thanks.”
And with that he left. I never saw Tommy again. I still think about what I did to him from time to time when it’s late and the Turkey has lost its luster. I still think about it.
I made my way out of the apartment and towards the hideout walking at a quick pace. It had just turned three o’clock in the AM and I couldn’t waste any time otherwise the mugs waiting for Tommy might get wise and head my way. I crossed through backstreets and alleyways to make up for lost time, but mostly so that way nobody peeking out there windows would freak out at a guy half covered in blood carrying a shotgun and moving with a purpose.   I arrived at the hold or what I called a hold as it was a small bar at the bottom of an apartment complex. I could see lights and hear the thumping of music the closer I got. The front door would have been the flashy way to go in, but I have this thing about dying so I reconsidered and looked for a back way in through a broken window in an adjacent apartment. I maneuvered around the back when I noticed that gas had begun to fill the back street.  But not gas really, more like clouds. Then those clouds began to form into a person.
“What’s this? Rival pusher look’n to settle a score?”  A voice, slightly whispered but confident and strong, light my ears up like Christmas. It came from behind me. I wheeled about, leveling my shotgun to get a quick shot off, but it was all for nothing. A hand grabbed my neck and pinned me against the wall so quick that my head spun like a top. That hand connected to an arm, and that arm to a lady. A lady dressed in dark blue.
“Don’t you just hate it when rival drug dealers just can’t play nice Purge?” her voice was soft yet terrifying.  Her face was pale blue with small fangs peering out from under her lips. If I wasn’t being treated like a rag doll I might have thrown a witty quip her way, but the situation being what it was all I could do was grit my teeth.
“Go easy on him Morinth. They don’t know no better, right?” The cloud had fully formed into a person. A blue medical smock covered what I passed for his body and a surgical mask on his face. Who the hell were these people was the only thought chasing rabbits in my head. Why did they think I was a drug dealer? And more importantly, What were they doing here?
“I guess you’re right. Maybe we should teach him better? What do you think Purge?” She raised her hand and made a fist. Slowly the girl named Morinth reared her arm back, and if her punch was anything like her grip I stood no chance.
Freight trains hurt less than that girls fist.
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Characters involved:  Morinth Nightingale , Purge , The Ringer
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LazerLad89