Chocolate #14, Amaretto #10, Vinegar #5
Story: Blaze Mafia Family
Title: First Day on the Job
Prompts: Chocolate #14: vengeance, Amaretto #10: ground zero, Vinegar #5: authorized personnel only
Rating: hard PG13 for murder crime scene
Characters: Detective Harry Lancaster, Detective Bernie Newman, Firebird Blaze, Paul Robinson,
Summary: The death of Atlas Blaze. I’m rather phobic about killing off my main characters, but I’ve always known that Atlas wasn’t a character that was going to stick around long. Still, this one was a hard one to write for me. Though I did have a fun time writing a much less cynical (mostly due to inexperience) Lancaster!
Harry Lancaster would never forget his first case as a police detective. A lot of people would never forget the case, though their reason for remembering had nothing to do with Lancaster. The death of Atlas Blaze had shaken the city down to its foundations and the aftermath caused an upheaval like they’d never seen before.
January 10th, 1:25 p.m.
“What a fuckin’ mess,” Lancaster muttered.
“Welcome to the job, eh Lancaster?” his partner, Bernie Newman, joked. A cop’s universal defense against all the darkness and death that they were forced to deal with was to develop a great appreciation for dark humor, but not even Newman, the station clown, could pull it off this time.
Eleven dead, the largest mass shooting New Palermo had ever seen, in a barbershop located in the middle of a street dominated by small mom-and-pop shops. But the number of people killed, brutal as it was, wasn’t what turned this clusterfuck into a royal disaster. The second barber’s chair was inhabited by a corpse with a mostly intact face that everyone in this city would be able to identify. Atlas Blaze, one of the most powerful men in New Palermo, now bore a striking resemblance to a sieve. There was no chance of him living even a moment after the shooting started, much less walking away from this.
“Obviously a drive-by,” Lancaster got down to business, putting all of the implications of Atlas’ death to the side. There was no doubt this was going the beginning of an all out war, but the cops would take care of that when the time came. Now, Lancaster had to do his job. “Judging by the number of casings out on the street, there were multiple Tommy guns.”
Newman said, “They either brought a dozen men or reloaded multiple times. Either way, there was definitely more than one shooter.”
“You think it was the Lafayette’s?” Lancaster asked Newman. The other mafia family that ruled the northern half of the city was smaller and had fewer resources than the Blazes, but they were strong enough to be the Blaze’s most serious rival. Plus, a few of their snitches were whispering that the Lafayette’s were making noise about their dissatisfaction with the current set up. There hadn’t been talk of any skirmishes between the families though, so the cops had considered it to be only useless gossip until now.
The older detective leaned in to look at what was left of Atlas’ chest. “If it was, it was the stupidest thing they’ve ever done. Going after the Boss is just asking for an all-out war.”
Crime scenes were always busy places with a ton of different people moving every which way, but Lancaster’s attention was caught when seemingly everyone stopped moving and collectively turned their attention to a commotion at the perimeter of the crime scene. Like a lemming, he too looked over to see what was happening.
“Fuck,” Newman spat out. “The Blazes are here.”
Lancaster cursed himself when the crowd of people part and he got a straight view to Atlas’ daughter, Firebird, slipping under the crime tape with no reservations whatsoever. One brave uniformed officer stepped forward to no doubt tell her that this was a restricted crime scene, but he was pushed roughly out of the way by Paul Robinson, the Blaze soldier that had acted as Firebird’s twenty four hour bodyguard for years.
Newman straightened up and met Blaze and Robinson at the doorway. “Ms. Blaze, you can’t come in here.”
“Move,” she snapped at him. Lancaster could see the furious look on her face, along with the panic lurking in her eyes.
Newman held his hands out soothingly. “Ms. Blaze, Firebird, you don’t want to go in there-”
“Get out of my way,” Firebird shoved Newman hard in the chest then rushed past him when he stumbled backwards. Lancaster stiffened and made to go take care of this problem, she’d just assaulted an officer, but Newman caught his eye and shook his head. Lancaster stopped and Newman stepped back so Robinson could get in too. For the Blazes, especially now, the rules got bent.
Lancaster took the opportunity to study Firebird, even while he hardened his demeanor so he could deal with her inevitable breakdown in the next few minutes. This was the first time he’d ever seen her in person, though everyone in the police station, probably everyone in the city, knew of her. She was Atlas’ oldest child and his heir apparent. No, Lancaster amended to himself, now she was Boss Blaze. Lancaster couldn’t help but wonder if this was the downfall of the Blaze Family. Sure, Firebird was Atlas’ daughter and the streets whispered that she was a Blaze to the core, but the idea of a seventeen year old girl leading the most powerful family in New Palermo and the longest standing criminal organization in the country was laughable.
Not that he was laughing now. Now, Firebird wasn’t the new leader of the notorious mafia family that had had his city by the balls for generations. Now Firebird was a daughter that had just lost her father in the most brutal of ways, and as much as Lancaster’s brain reprimanded him, his heart went out to her.
Firebird stopped when she entered the gruesome scene. Her face paled but she scanned the barbershop with detached efficiency. She searched out, and quickly found, Atlas’ corpse. Her next breath in was more of a desperate gasp for air and she took an instinctive step backwards, her hands wrapping around her stomach in self-defense. Robinson was standing behind her so he stopped her from moving any further. His gaze followed Firebird’s and his entire demeanor darkened with a harsh cocktail of pain and fury when he saw Atlas.
“Jesus,” he gasped. His hands wrapped around Firebird’s upper arms, both seeking out and giving the human contact that was instinctual in such cases. “Fuck. Jesus.”
Firebird wrenched herself out of Robinson’s grasp and stepped forward. She moved over to her father, stopping just short of the blood pool that had collected around him.
Any doubts Lancaster may have had about the future of the Blaze Family were firmly put to rest by what he witnessed next. Firebird started trembling, and Lancaster knew that she was about to break down. She took one more gasping breath of air and suddenly stopped trembling. The tense lines around her eyes and mouth that only devastating pain could etch smoothed out until her young face was smooth as granite. Her arms dropped from her stomach and her hands clenched into fists before even that show of emotion was discarded and her fingers loosened to hang gracefully at her side.
Lancaster would never admit it, but he was seriously freaked out by Firebird’s display of self-control. She shouldn’t be able to do that, not when she was still staring into the dead eyes of the father that, by all accounts, had loved her more than anything in the world. It was obvious that she wasn’t a cold woman, the emotions had all been there in full force just a moment ago. But what she just did wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right.
Firebird looked down on the ground. She stepped forward and picked something up off the wet floor, a signet ring that had come off because Atlas’ right hand had been shot apart.
“Hey, you can’t take-” Lancaster started to say but Newman set a hand on his arm.
Newman leaned in close and murmured, “It’s the Boss’ ring. There’s no way in hell we’d ever get our hands on it.”
“She can’t just take it from the crime scene!” Lancaster whispered heatedly. Firebird ignored the two cops and held out the ring to her bodyguard. Robinson’s back straightened, and, though he couldn’t get rid of his distress as completely as Firebird, he curtailed his grief and took the ring.
“Yes, she can.”
Lancaster vibrated with the injustice of this but Newman’s absolute belief that the Blazes were going to get away with removing evidence stopped him from moving forward. Not only was this his very first detective job so he had to tread very carefully, but he was well aware of what would happen to him if he decided to go after the Blazes. All of his work to become a detective would be for naught, and he’d be lucky to come out of it with his head intact. He wasn’t going to risk all of that for one damn ring. Not yet, anyway.
Robinson pulled his pocket square out of his suit jacket and wiped the blood off of the heavy gold ring. As soon as it was clean, Robinson stuffed the cloth into his pocket then stepped up to Firebird. He kissed the ring and held it out to Firebird. “I’m loyal to you, Boss.”
Firebird took the ring and slipped it onto her right thumb, the only one of her fingers that was anywhere near big enough to keep it on. She put her hands on Robinson’s face and kissed both of his cheeks formally.
Lancaster winced in disgust. The whole scene was just so...wrong. They were supposed to be falling over themselves as they cried and screamed at the horror of losing Atlas, not calmly wiping his blood off of a ring so they could reaffirming loyalties to the new Family Head. Everything about it wasn’t right.
A thought struck Lancaster. He leaned in to Newman again. “Do you think she could have-”
“Don’t you dare say it,” Firebird snapped, suddenly glaring at Lancaster like she was looking at the Anti-Christ. “I would never kill my family. Ever. Don’t waste my time even pursuing the possibility, Detective Lancaster.”
His face flushed. He hadn’t meant for her to hear, obviously, and he certainly hadn’t expected Firebird to know who he was since he was so new. It was disturbing to think that perhaps the Blazes kept track of the police’s movements as closely as the police tried to keep track of theirs.
His obvious embarrassment was apparently enough for Firebird, because she turned back to Atlas. She closed his dead eyes, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. Her own eyes closed and her right hand clenched, her thumb tucked inside her fist with the ring. “Goodbye, Daddy,” she whispered.
Firebird straightened and her fist loosened again. She looked around the room once more, and Lancaster got the distinct feeling that she catalogued each and every detail with that one sweep. Her roaming gaze paused when it landed on Newman, all-business. “I expect this investigation to be the first thing on everyone’s plate.”
It was Newman’s turn to blush bright red. He glanced at Lancaster, almost nervously, then back to Firebird. “We’ll do everything we can, Ms. Blaze.”
She moved to the door and Robinson fell into step behind her. “So will I.”
Title: First Day on the Job
Prompts: Chocolate #14: vengeance, Amaretto #10: ground zero, Vinegar #5: authorized personnel only
Rating: hard PG13 for murder crime scene
Characters: Detective Harry Lancaster, Detective Bernie Newman, Firebird Blaze, Paul Robinson,
Summary: The death of Atlas Blaze. I’m rather phobic about killing off my main characters, but I’ve always known that Atlas wasn’t a character that was going to stick around long. Still, this one was a hard one to write for me. Though I did have a fun time writing a much less cynical (mostly due to inexperience) Lancaster!
Harry Lancaster would never forget his first case as a police detective. A lot of people would never forget the case, though their reason for remembering had nothing to do with Lancaster. The death of Atlas Blaze had shaken the city down to its foundations and the aftermath caused an upheaval like they’d never seen before.
January 10th, 1:25 p.m.
“What a fuckin’ mess,” Lancaster muttered.
“Welcome to the job, eh Lancaster?” his partner, Bernie Newman, joked. A cop’s universal defense against all the darkness and death that they were forced to deal with was to develop a great appreciation for dark humor, but not even Newman, the station clown, could pull it off this time.
Eleven dead, the largest mass shooting New Palermo had ever seen, in a barbershop located in the middle of a street dominated by small mom-and-pop shops. But the number of people killed, brutal as it was, wasn’t what turned this clusterfuck into a royal disaster. The second barber’s chair was inhabited by a corpse with a mostly intact face that everyone in this city would be able to identify. Atlas Blaze, one of the most powerful men in New Palermo, now bore a striking resemblance to a sieve. There was no chance of him living even a moment after the shooting started, much less walking away from this.
“Obviously a drive-by,” Lancaster got down to business, putting all of the implications of Atlas’ death to the side. There was no doubt this was going the beginning of an all out war, but the cops would take care of that when the time came. Now, Lancaster had to do his job. “Judging by the number of casings out on the street, there were multiple Tommy guns.”
Newman said, “They either brought a dozen men or reloaded multiple times. Either way, there was definitely more than one shooter.”
“You think it was the Lafayette’s?” Lancaster asked Newman. The other mafia family that ruled the northern half of the city was smaller and had fewer resources than the Blazes, but they were strong enough to be the Blaze’s most serious rival. Plus, a few of their snitches were whispering that the Lafayette’s were making noise about their dissatisfaction with the current set up. There hadn’t been talk of any skirmishes between the families though, so the cops had considered it to be only useless gossip until now.
The older detective leaned in to look at what was left of Atlas’ chest. “If it was, it was the stupidest thing they’ve ever done. Going after the Boss is just asking for an all-out war.”
Crime scenes were always busy places with a ton of different people moving every which way, but Lancaster’s attention was caught when seemingly everyone stopped moving and collectively turned their attention to a commotion at the perimeter of the crime scene. Like a lemming, he too looked over to see what was happening.
“Fuck,” Newman spat out. “The Blazes are here.”
Lancaster cursed himself when the crowd of people part and he got a straight view to Atlas’ daughter, Firebird, slipping under the crime tape with no reservations whatsoever. One brave uniformed officer stepped forward to no doubt tell her that this was a restricted crime scene, but he was pushed roughly out of the way by Paul Robinson, the Blaze soldier that had acted as Firebird’s twenty four hour bodyguard for years.
Newman straightened up and met Blaze and Robinson at the doorway. “Ms. Blaze, you can’t come in here.”
“Move,” she snapped at him. Lancaster could see the furious look on her face, along with the panic lurking in her eyes.
Newman held his hands out soothingly. “Ms. Blaze, Firebird, you don’t want to go in there-”
“Get out of my way,” Firebird shoved Newman hard in the chest then rushed past him when he stumbled backwards. Lancaster stiffened and made to go take care of this problem, she’d just assaulted an officer, but Newman caught his eye and shook his head. Lancaster stopped and Newman stepped back so Robinson could get in too. For the Blazes, especially now, the rules got bent.
Lancaster took the opportunity to study Firebird, even while he hardened his demeanor so he could deal with her inevitable breakdown in the next few minutes. This was the first time he’d ever seen her in person, though everyone in the police station, probably everyone in the city, knew of her. She was Atlas’ oldest child and his heir apparent. No, Lancaster amended to himself, now she was Boss Blaze. Lancaster couldn’t help but wonder if this was the downfall of the Blaze Family. Sure, Firebird was Atlas’ daughter and the streets whispered that she was a Blaze to the core, but the idea of a seventeen year old girl leading the most powerful family in New Palermo and the longest standing criminal organization in the country was laughable.
Not that he was laughing now. Now, Firebird wasn’t the new leader of the notorious mafia family that had had his city by the balls for generations. Now Firebird was a daughter that had just lost her father in the most brutal of ways, and as much as Lancaster’s brain reprimanded him, his heart went out to her.
Firebird stopped when she entered the gruesome scene. Her face paled but she scanned the barbershop with detached efficiency. She searched out, and quickly found, Atlas’ corpse. Her next breath in was more of a desperate gasp for air and she took an instinctive step backwards, her hands wrapping around her stomach in self-defense. Robinson was standing behind her so he stopped her from moving any further. His gaze followed Firebird’s and his entire demeanor darkened with a harsh cocktail of pain and fury when he saw Atlas.
“Jesus,” he gasped. His hands wrapped around Firebird’s upper arms, both seeking out and giving the human contact that was instinctual in such cases. “Fuck. Jesus.”
Firebird wrenched herself out of Robinson’s grasp and stepped forward. She moved over to her father, stopping just short of the blood pool that had collected around him.
Any doubts Lancaster may have had about the future of the Blaze Family were firmly put to rest by what he witnessed next. Firebird started trembling, and Lancaster knew that she was about to break down. She took one more gasping breath of air and suddenly stopped trembling. The tense lines around her eyes and mouth that only devastating pain could etch smoothed out until her young face was smooth as granite. Her arms dropped from her stomach and her hands clenched into fists before even that show of emotion was discarded and her fingers loosened to hang gracefully at her side.
Lancaster would never admit it, but he was seriously freaked out by Firebird’s display of self-control. She shouldn’t be able to do that, not when she was still staring into the dead eyes of the father that, by all accounts, had loved her more than anything in the world. It was obvious that she wasn’t a cold woman, the emotions had all been there in full force just a moment ago. But what she just did wasn’t normal. It wasn’t right.
Firebird looked down on the ground. She stepped forward and picked something up off the wet floor, a signet ring that had come off because Atlas’ right hand had been shot apart.
“Hey, you can’t take-” Lancaster started to say but Newman set a hand on his arm.
Newman leaned in close and murmured, “It’s the Boss’ ring. There’s no way in hell we’d ever get our hands on it.”
“She can’t just take it from the crime scene!” Lancaster whispered heatedly. Firebird ignored the two cops and held out the ring to her bodyguard. Robinson’s back straightened, and, though he couldn’t get rid of his distress as completely as Firebird, he curtailed his grief and took the ring.
“Yes, she can.”
Lancaster vibrated with the injustice of this but Newman’s absolute belief that the Blazes were going to get away with removing evidence stopped him from moving forward. Not only was this his very first detective job so he had to tread very carefully, but he was well aware of what would happen to him if he decided to go after the Blazes. All of his work to become a detective would be for naught, and he’d be lucky to come out of it with his head intact. He wasn’t going to risk all of that for one damn ring. Not yet, anyway.
Robinson pulled his pocket square out of his suit jacket and wiped the blood off of the heavy gold ring. As soon as it was clean, Robinson stuffed the cloth into his pocket then stepped up to Firebird. He kissed the ring and held it out to Firebird. “I’m loyal to you, Boss.”
Firebird took the ring and slipped it onto her right thumb, the only one of her fingers that was anywhere near big enough to keep it on. She put her hands on Robinson’s face and kissed both of his cheeks formally.
Lancaster winced in disgust. The whole scene was just so...wrong. They were supposed to be falling over themselves as they cried and screamed at the horror of losing Atlas, not calmly wiping his blood off of a ring so they could reaffirming loyalties to the new Family Head. Everything about it wasn’t right.
A thought struck Lancaster. He leaned in to Newman again. “Do you think she could have-”
“Don’t you dare say it,” Firebird snapped, suddenly glaring at Lancaster like she was looking at the Anti-Christ. “I would never kill my family. Ever. Don’t waste my time even pursuing the possibility, Detective Lancaster.”
His face flushed. He hadn’t meant for her to hear, obviously, and he certainly hadn’t expected Firebird to know who he was since he was so new. It was disturbing to think that perhaps the Blazes kept track of the police’s movements as closely as the police tried to keep track of theirs.
His obvious embarrassment was apparently enough for Firebird, because she turned back to Atlas. She closed his dead eyes, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. Her own eyes closed and her right hand clenched, her thumb tucked inside her fist with the ring. “Goodbye, Daddy,” she whispered.
Firebird straightened and her fist loosened again. She looked around the room once more, and Lancaster got the distinct feeling that she catalogued each and every detail with that one sweep. Her roaming gaze paused when it landed on Newman, all-business. “I expect this investigation to be the first thing on everyone’s plate.”
It was Newman’s turn to blush bright red. He glanced at Lancaster, almost nervously, then back to Firebird. “We’ll do everything we can, Ms. Blaze.”
She moved to the door and Robinson fell into step behind her. “So will I.”