The Third Call

Officer Cortez:

So the chief says were makin some kinda big move tomorrow but wasn’t too keen on providing the details over the transponder. Says to meet at the usually safe house for a debriefing. I've been through this song and dance too many times to count at this point so I’m not really thinkin too hard about it you know? Chief played this fun little game where the entire force had to wait til AFTER debrief to pick up our shipments from the resupply convoy. Once a month is a ridiculous amount of time between shipments to an off-world colony and I’ll be damned if i'm not the first one in line getting a fresh pack of smokes. The Families gonna try and muscle in to secure their cut but I’d like to see if they're singin that same tune with a blanket of bullets rolling through their penthouse windows.

Anyways, me and Muchi Rolled up to the safe house, heads up in cloud 9 if you catch my drift, at around 9 expecting two maybe three squad cars but low and behold the whole damn force is parked outside, special forces and all. I give Muchi a look as we're parkin to see if my eyes are getting the best of me. He returns the favor and I give him a little jab hopin this was some kind of prank he was pullin on me. The second I step out the car I get slapped with the smell of something awful.

I hated this damn safe house with a burning passion. It was right outside of town which means it might as well be halfway into the swamp. The bugs were big enough to park my car for me. It smelled like that gunk that always seemed to build up in Muchi’s boots after a double shift on call. Anywhere you step is either wet, sticky, or dangerous so we always park close even if that means blockin a squad car or two.

As we’re walkin in I spot Fisher and Z far off in the crowd, slipin my way past 2nd company who’s already started arguing with 5th company. Some bullshit about a rat lookin for an out or something I really wasn’t in any condition to focus on two things at once. A few taps and a shove later we arrive with our boys where Fisher, like always, fills us in on what we missed.

“Chiefs serious this time. Were finally taking down The Family.”

No way in hell was I hearing that right. THE Family? Fuck that i'm not tryin to die this far from home. For what? Justice? Justice died the day we got left hanging to dry on this god-forsaken rock by the Feds.

“Hear him out, says he’s got an airtight plan this time,” Fisher added

I turned my eyes to the big man himself basking in the glow of the room’s attention. Chief Darius Trunchent was the only member of high command to stick behind when everything went to shit. He was a stern-shaped man with skin that looked more akin to leather fresh off the drying rack rather than anything a human would be caught wearing. You could never tell exactly where he was lookin on account of that damn prostatic eye he refuses to get serviced. He wore his scars with pride going so far as to tear his already minimalist tank top just to show them off. The jagged ridges looked like canyons tracing an outline over two of his right ribs. Every time you ask him about “The Twins” as he’s named them, he’s got a different story for how they showed up.

His gaze shifted in our general direction and he quickly hunted down me and Muchi.

“Now that the commander of 1st company has decided to grace us with his presence we can begin”

I gave the Chief a half-assed salute like always and he began his spiel.

“At around 9 standard time this morning, an anonymous caller enlightened us that he had information that could lead to the downfall of The Family. The caller claimed that at the same time tomorrow Marco the Collector would be making an appearance in Viridian Park under heavy guard. The caller also announced that if Marco was captured alive he would be willing to flop and provide crucial information even going as far as to provide the location of their head honcho.”

Everyone started murmuring to each other talkin this and that about how we finally get to own this town and what not but I was still holdin on to some doubts.

“Yeah but how do you know we can trust this info,” I said

“Good question for once Cortez. The source also provided a list of stash houses to prove his Intel and they checked out. Stuff we haven’t even been able to pin down. This is the real deal.”

I still wasn’t buying it. My company has always been the ones sending task force after task force to bring back Marco but instead the sick fuck returns them in body bags, personally. He’s a walking sledgehammer that’s broken an arm or a leg from every shop owner in this nightmare of a city. No way would a scumbag like that just flip on the people that made him the most feared man in the system. There had to be some game. Some angle I couldn’t see.

By the time my brain returned to reality the Chief was already dishing out orders and planning a full-on military grade assault for that damned park. It was too late to say anything. I kick myself every time I think about that dumbass that convinced himself it was too late to say anything.

Jerus:

Marco had been missing for three days at this point. He was sent down to rough up that store clerk on 2nd and 5th for late payments but never came back. After the 2nd day, The Family found that he left all of his ties to The Family and anything that could come close to a worldly possession (Aside from his .22 but if Marco left that Jerus wouldn’t even bother searching for him, a corpse would just turn up in a few days) in his house with a note saying he was going on one last job. Jerus was the one that supposedly knew him best thus why he was given the task of finding Marco. In reality, Jerus didn’t know shit about Marco. They grew up in the same run-down precinct just below the East Ward years before The Family set up shop but that’s where their relationship reached its end. The rest was all coincidence. Getting recruited at the same age, getting promoted one after the other, it all just seemed to work out like that according to Jerus. He knew that Marco had a wife and kid but Marco didn’t speak a word about them just like every other aspect of his life. If a mute was considered a personal safe, Marco would be Grand Central Banks main vault. But the boss said to find him tonight so that’s what Jerus had to do.

Marcos family was off-world being monitored by The Family. Jarus tried to get in contact with the agent on station right now, some kid named French Tamale, but they weren’t answering. Jerus didn’t have time to get off-world so he made his way into the cities underbelly.

The usual spots like home and his drinking den were deserted. Jerus asked around to see if any of the locals knew where he might have gone but half of them didn’t know where they were. The amount of times a drunk tried to grab at the silk coat wrapped around Jerus’s shoulders repulsed him down to his core. At least they learned the hard way where those fingers were never to go. Still, it was unfortunate that he would have to burn that coat, it was one of his favorites.

The Family spies proved useless only offering info about cop activity and illegal ordnance shipments to town. None of this helped him find Marco so he returned back to Home Base ready to take his punishment. By this point, he had been searching all night and could see the sun beginning to peak its luminous cap above the foreground of the city Jerus called home.

As Jerus pushed through the third set of doors into Home Base there was a clear mismatch between him and the room. Jerus was looking for a place to lie down while everyone else was running around like their life depended on it. He pulled the nearest bookie in close and asked him what was going on. The bookie was visibly shaken and desperately trying to be anywhere but where he was standing.

“Boss has been screaming nonstop for the last half hour. Something about Marco.”

Jerus was praying for a stroke: luck or otherwise.

He mentally said his goodbyes and began his final march to the boss’s office, becoming less corporeal by the second. Jerus ran through every regret he’s ever had in his life all of which return to a singular root, this god-forsaken family. He hated everyone here from the bootlickers trying to impress him at every turn to the temper tantrum throwing boss of theirs. But most of all he hated that bastard Marco for putting him in this position.

As Jerus stood in front of the hefty wooden doors his arms decided playing possum was the best way to avoid facing Hades wraith. Scanning the room for salvation Jerus spotted a clock reading 8:45. Seconds later a vibration began to emanate from his front pocket. As Jerus lifted his phone up to his face he was about ready to cry. There was a single word plastered across the screen.

Marco.

Fumbling with excitement Jerus was barely able to pick up the phone in time. Before Jerus could get a word out Marcos spoke.

“Don’t say anything. If the boss wants me he can have me. 9 o’clock. Viridian Park.”

And with that. the line went dead. While his brain might have been paralyzed trying to comprehend why this was happening, his body shoved its way into the lion’s den.

The Boss was far beyond worked up and was in a state of full-on tremors. He had a cigar in his mouth, a drink in one hand, and a picture in the other. It was a picture of his daughter with an X placed over her face and a signature next to it. The drink was fleeing the scene and the cigar was trying its hardest to follow. As the rotund frame of the boss shifted its attention toward the poor excuse of a man stood in front of him, he began to heave in air as if he were trying to turn the room into a vacuum. ‘What.” was the only word he could muster in his current state.

Jerus was picking up the tremors the boss was giving off but not for the same reason. In any other circumstance, Jerus would have told the boss to just put him out of his misery now but in this timeline. he was blessed.

“Marcos called he said that if you want him come and get him. Viridian Park 9’o clock” Jerus said.

There was a flicker in the boss’s eye as if a lion had just spotted a gazelle prancing by on the plains of the Serengeti. The trembling stopped for only a second as the hunter sized up its prey. Finally he said, “I want you to send every motherfucker in this goddamn city TO THAT PARK” and that was all Jerus needed to hear. A rush of adrenaline kicked in as the doors shut behind him and instincts kicked in.

“Everybody LISTEN UP”.

Marco:

Three phone calls. That’s all it would take to fix this city.

Marco sat on a broken bench wafting in the clouds of sulfur exiting the park grounds as they mixed with the cigarette smoke. The cigarette dangling from his lips seemingly strapped in place by dried saliva functioned more as an inhaler than an item of luxury.

He hated what this place had become. Year after year turf wars raged across his city and all he could do is sit by and watch. Actually, that wasn’t correct he picked a side and helped it win. The Family was a band of out-of-town gangsters looking to run this city and long ago Marco had hopes of changing that. Hope to make this place better from the inside. Hope that one day he could stop the violence. Hope that existed back when all of his brothers and sisters in East Ward were still alive. With each casualty, Marco lost a piece of himself until finally there was nobody left that would look him in the eyes not even Val.

By now Frenchy should have hid Val and Vinny somewhere far from The Families reach. They would never forgive him but that’s probably for the best. They deserved a real shot at living life, not whatever poor excuse Marco dumped in front of them. She was the last person to care about Marco and most times the only. His son longed for a “real dad” not whatever Marco was. Val would tell him that Marco was keeping them safe which was technically true. They received special treatment from The Family but at the cost of being ostracized by the community. Eventually, they got permission to move off-world. Val met with Marco to look him in the eyes one last time, to test if he was even still human. What she saw was a man suffering.

Marco, at that point, was middle-aged, greying in patches with deep bags under his eyes. His body was still sturdy but screamed whenever it was asked to move. Two scars marked the corners of his mouth giving the impression that his face had been stapled in a permanent frown. She could tell his work was chipping away at him and told him to leave come with them, run from this place. The notion sparked a flicker in Marcos eyes. A newfound purpose ignited. He must get out of here. Marco thanked her for saving him, providing an out.

Marco promised he would meet them off-world after one more job. Then one more turned into three. Another debt left unpaid.

Looking down at his watch Marco noted a time of 8:55 and could faintly hear tires screeching in the distance. Marco began to ponder who would reach him first The Family or the Police. He couldn’t tell which outcome was better. It seems the police won. From across the park, he could hear a faint voice yell “Sir he’s over here”. Time to move then. Just a little longer. A low rumble began to form as all manner of hostility charged his direction.

Come on where are you guys.

The First to arrive was a clean-cut cop no older than 23. He looked at Marco with a grave contempt akin to that of a freshly beaten shopkeep. Behind him was the rest of the cavalry. They shared his look to varying degrees. Each one moved slowly as they got closer. Laser-focused on Marco's every move, nothing could break their line of sight. Except of course a caravan of Mafioso’s tearing their way through the tree line. A wave of relief took hold of Marco as he reached for his phone. Three phone calls. He heard an officer yell something at him but it was too late the call went through and the entire field was engulfed in an all-consuming fireball. The explosive left one final ring before taking Marco to the sky.