Fic - The Ninth (3/4)
Chapter 3
Where, turned out to be a little hole in the wall diner that Esca had gone to a lot when he was younger, he was surprised that Aquila even knew the place, although Esca was starting to realise that the image he had of Aquila in his head may not be true to life.
Bends and Crofts were both examining the man up close, Esca trying to ignore the way they both were staring at the man from up close and the way it made his fingers twitch, the way his hands wanted to curl into fists and make them back off.
“Well?” Esca asked again. “We’re somewhere else now. So why don’t you tell me why I’m not heading to the first cop shop and dobbing you in? Last time I checked they weren’t big fans of crooked cops.”
His words had Aquila paling, the man drawing away as if Esca had punched him, hurt and resignation written all over his face. He looked completely different from the man that had appeared in the warehouse, looking like the man that Esca had thought he was.
“I’m not like that, I never would be,” he replied quietly, looking down at his massive fists, Esca noticing the dark smudge he’d seen back at the Gallant crime scene, although there was no shadow to account for it now.
“He looks like he’s telling the truth.”
“Bends would know, he had a skill for these kinds of things.”
“And if I couldn’t tell, then I’d move onto more fun ways to make people tell the truth.”
“Those were good times.”
“I know those guys because I … when I was younger I mean … I was involved in things that weren’t exactly legal,” Aquila continued, making it easier for Esca to ignore the ghostly conversation going on above Aquila’s head.
“’Weren’t exactly legal’?” Esca parroted, leaning back against the booth and crossing his arms.
“Fights, mainly, underground fighting, and I was good at it,” Aquila continued, still looking down at his hands, his right thumb rubbing over his left hand.
The pieces started to fall together. Of course the Ninth gang would start to get nervous if Aquila was on the case, the Detective was one of the good ones who would no doubt be able to put the pieces together, especially given he had been part of a similar ring they’d run before.
If Aquila wasn’t dirty that was. Esca’s gut was telling him Aquila wasn’t, and his gut was something he’d learned to trust a long time ago.
“But on my eighteenth birthday, everything changed. My parents were murdered, the people who killed them were never found, and I knew I wanted to be a cop. I wanted to stop anyone from going through the kind of pain I had, have, knowing my parent’s killer had walked free.”
“So you left and became a cop? Just like that?” Esca asked. He knew how gangs worked, and people didn’t usually just get to walk away from them.
“My Uncle was disappointed, but he loves me, and he’d been doing everything legit from what I could see,” Aquila replied. “Up until now, anyway.”
“Your Uncle?” Esca asked, before everything came to a grinding halt.
It had been a long time ago, but he remembered reading some latin book after his father had said something in latin that he wanted to figure out. During his research he had noticed the name Aquila and thought it was cool that it meant eagle.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Esca continued, staring at the man across from in shock, not missing the, and damn the man for it, attractive blush that crossed the man’s cheeks. “You’re the son of the boss aren’t you?”
“Nephew,” Aquila answered, pulling up his left sleeve to reveal a tattoo on his forearm down onto his hand. Esca couldn’t help but reach out, fingers tracing over the intricate design, eyes unable to stray from the eagle.
“Well … didn’t see that one coming, did we Bends?” Crofts murmured, Esca seeing something like respect in the ghost’s eyes where they rested on Aquila
“Are you in on this?” Esca whispered, eyes meeting wide green ones.
“No, how can you … I would never dishonour my pledge like that, never,” he replied vehemently, shaking his head, hands curling into fists. “I would never dishonour my parents name like that.”
“He knows who though. As high up as he is, even after all these years he’d know who is organising this, or at least where to find them,” Bends said.
“But you know who is doing this, you know where to find them?”
Esca could see the answer even before Aquila opened his mouth, his hand clamping down on Aquila’s arm, narrowing his eyes as he also saw that Aquila was about to lie to him.
“It doesn’t matter,” Aquila replied, his other hand falling onto Esca’s, thumb rubbing across it almost absentmindedly. Esca ignored the shivers that ran through him.
“Tell me, Aquila.”
“The fights I was a part of were all organised by a man called Claudius Marcellus,” Marcus muttered, hunching his shoulders.
“But you won’t be able to get anywhere near him,” he continued louder. “He and my Uncle are almost impossible to get to. It’s why they’ve been around as long as they have. And there’s nothing so far to link to them.”
Snorting, Esca pulled his hand away from Marcus’s arm, angry that he had left it there for so long, and yet hating that he wanted to keep it there once he had removed it.
“What about the tattoos?” Esca asked, leaning forward. “The fact that they’ve done this before-”
“They were never caught, Esca!” Marcus hissed. “If they had been, then I would’ve been as well and there was no way I could’ve even applied to become a cop, let alone a detective. There’s nothing, trust me on this, if there was I’d be the first one to go there and bring them in. And my Uncle knows that.”
“Those guys said …”
“That I would put it together, not that there was anything there that was incriminating,” Marcus answered, rubbing a massive hand over his face. “Trust me, Esca, there’s nothing you can do.”
“Oh, yeah? Watch me,” Esca replied, sliding off the bench and stalking out of the diner.
**
In retrospect, Esca really shouldn’t have tried breaking into Claudius Marcellus’s place without back up. Well, back up that wasn’t on the ghostly plane.
Crofts and Bends had helped him track Claudius down, tagging along with various Ninth gang members, slowly gathering information until they got an address, which led them to a building that Claudius apparently used as his base of operations.
Esca had gotten inside and seen bits and pieces which confirmed that the man was running the underground ring, but nothing concrete, nothing that could be used as evidence. Unfortunately, as he’d been searching the office, the silent alarm that he’d tripped had alerted the Ninth that he was there, and they were waiting for him when he exited the building.
Which is how Esca found himself waking up in what looked like a cage, underground if the damp smell was anything to go by, and the aches over his body reminding him how he had gotten there. And, because he hadn’t thought to bring actual back up, no one would now he was here, that he was missing. So no one would be looking for him.
“How are you feeling, Mister Cunoval?”
The quiet voice came out of the darkness to his right, Esca straining his eyes to see who had made it. The voice was low and sounded more sophisticated than any of the other gangsters Esca had met, he wondered if this was Claudius.
The low voice chuckled, as Esca saw a man moving out from the shadows. He was older than what his voice sounded, his white hair neatly cut and groomed away from his face, his bright blue eyes taking in Esca, small smile tugging on his lips.
This wasn’t Claudius.
“Are you going to kill me?” Esca asked, leaning back against the cage, arms resting on his bent knees.
“My dear boy,” the man replied, shaking his head. “What would be the purpose of me killing you? I am not a barbarian.”
“Who are you?” Esca asked, knowing that the man probably wouldn’t tell him, but knowing an opening when he saw one.
“You haven’t figured it out yet?” the old man replied, smile widening. The smile looked familiar, looked like something that he had-
Eyes widening, Esca stood up, heart racing, as he realised who it was he was actually looking at.
“You’re going to make me fight.”
“Perhaps,” the old man, Marcus’s Uncle, Esca now realised, replied. “Although I’m hoping we’ll have someone who is far more experienced who’ll fight for you.”
“Someone who is …” Esca trailed off as the words ran through his head again. “You want Marcus to come after me?”
The man chuckled again, looking almost proud at the words Esca had said.
“I can see why my nephew likes you.”
Esca ignored the way the words had warmth spreading through his chest, sure that the old man knew nothing about Marcus’s feelings.
“He doesn’t even know I’m here,” Esca replied, ignoring his heart racing, hoping that Marcus had no idea he was here, that the fool wouldn’t try to save him again, the memory of Marcus jumping in front of a bullet for him coming to mind.
“He always was good at putting things together,” the old man continued. “I have no doubt he’ll figure this out.”
“And if he does, I’m sure he and his cop buddies will have a great time telling you about it when they put handcuffs on you,” Esca replied, hands curling into fists.
Aquila just chuckled again, eyes sparkling as he looked at Esca, before he moved away.
“I suggest you get some sleep, Mister Cunoval. If you do need to fight, you’ll need all the energy you can get.”
Esca glared at his back as the old man left, knowing that he wasn’t likely to get any sleep. Sliding down the wall, he leaned his head back against it, closing his eyes and trying to get as relaxed as he could, ignoring the images of the victims that flashed behind his eyelids.
He wasn’t like those kids, he knew how to fight, knew how the gangs liked to fight. Coming from the Brigantes he had an advantage. He just had to remember that, remember that he could fight whoever it was that they had him up against.
He was surprised when he jolted awake at the sound of the door opening, wondering how he had managed to actually sleep.
“Let’s go, kid.”
He was roughly pulled up by two men, who were bigger than Marcus, and marched out of the room.
“Use your size and your speed,” Bends said, as they walked down the narrow hallway, the two ghosts walking just in front of him. “Get in your hit and then dodge out of the way.”
“I have done this before,” Esca hissed, glaring at the two ghosts, ignoring the strange look he got from the two goons holding him. “This isn’t my first fight.”
“It’s your first like this, kid,” Crofts replied. “There’s a huge difference between fighting on the streets and fighting like this. And the guy you’ll be fighting will be fighting for his life as well, probably the one who finished those kids we found. Which included weapons in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Thank you, Crofts,” Esca muttered. “That’s exactly the kind of image I needed right now.”
“Better to be prepared, Cunoval. Remember move in quick and then away even quicker.”
Esca shot him a glare before walking into the room, swallowing a little hard when he saw the three men standing in there, along with a chair next to a table with a covered dish on it.
“Didn’t realise dinner was on the menu,” he joked, holding his head high. He might be going to his death soon, but never let it be said that the Brigantes didn’t laugh in the face of death.
“It’s your initiation, kid,” one of the gruff men said, grabbing him and leading him over to the chair. Esca thought about fighting them for a few seconds, before deciding his best chance was to gather information and then make a break for it.
It wasn’t until he was sitting down, the other two men coming up to stand on either side of him, that the first gruff man uncovered the tray. It was then Esca realised what they meant by initiation. The men were clearly here to put the eagle tattoo on his left hand.
“You ever had a tattoo, kid?” one of the men asked, smirk showing his missing teeth. Esca simply gave him an unimpressed look, looking at the man for a long moment, before looking down at the tattoo that could be seen poking out from under his t-shirt.
“Brigante,” the other man said, pulling up the shirt and running a finger over the tattoo. It took all of Esca’s strength not to lash out at the man, feeling his arm clench at the pudgy finger running over the mark of his father’s gang.
“You’ll fit right in,” the first one finished, grinning at him again before turning to the man near the tray.
“You could’ve told us he was Brigante,” the one with the tools said, Esca looking up as the man he’d been looking for, Claudius, walked out of the shadows.
“Mister Cunoval has many hidden talents,” the old man replied, as he walked further into the room. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think the man was the mastermind behind the fights, looking more like a kindly old grandfather than anything, but Esca knew better, the images of the other men flashing before him again.
The one with the tool shrugged, reaching out and moving Esca’s hand into the position he wanted, only to stop when a loud bang sounded followed by yelling outside their room, before the door was thrown open.
“I don’t believe it, it’s the Jack,” Bends muttered.
Looking up from where the man was holding onto his hand tightly, Esca couldn’t help but catch his breath as he saw the familiar figure standing in the door way. Even with the man in shadows, he could tell that it was the Detective.
And he could also tell that the stupid, idiotic fool had come alone.
“Ahh, Marcus, I’m so glad you could join us,” Claudius said, smiling at Marcus as if it was simply some dinner party they were at. As if the older man wasn’t trying to tattoo Esca and make him fight to death in an underground fighting ring.
“Claudius,” Marcus replied, walking into the room, dangerous look on his face that Esca had seen back at the warehouse.
“We were just about to initiate young Esca here into our … club. You remember what that was like, don’t you, Marcus?”
The low growl that came from Marcus had the hairs on Esca’s neck standing up, his heart racing a little at the noise, want rushing through him, before he reminded himself that now wasn’t time for those thoughts. He saw the look that passed between the two men, and wondered what kind of conversation they were having.
“What is this about, Claudius?” Marcus asked, the dangerous look falling away from his face, leaving behind the weary detective that still managed to pull at Esca’s heart.
“Your Uncle wants what he’s always wanted, Marcus,” Claudius replied, shaking his head slightly. “Come home. We’ve let you do what you needed to. But it’s time you came back to the family business.”
“You know I can’t,” Marcus bit out, Esca able to tell his teeth were clenched by the way his jaw tightened. Claudius sighed, shaking his head, before turning back to Esca.
“Then I guess young Mister Cunoval here will suffice for the fight.”
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