[IC] The Protectors

[HellHoundWoof]

A long time ago.

"Hey," Reverb said doubling back as he heard the disturbing able scream of Benny in an alleyway, he turned the corner to see the back of Kevlar padding, a shield in the mans off hand, and some kind of navy blue underneath. He had heard shit from some of the informants around town that this guy was a heavy hitter, like big time, he worked the harder shit. Reverb clutched his fists and approached, the big man.

"Oy, Riot" Reverb said his voice slightly raised, "You mind me taking this little fuck down, I did the brute work on his crew and all. I appreciate you helping me find him, and I really do appreciate it. But that son of a bitch there is my target, I got the papers on him too."

Reverb reached into his pockets and felt the crisply folded papers then pulled them out. He held them between his index and middle finger as he walked up to the left of Riot. He looked down at Benny who wasn't far away, a good kick could land right on the short bastards jaw. He looked to Riot and flashed a quick smile, he extended a hand.

"I'm Reverb by the way," he said with a small smile, " I think we could work this asshole over together, maybe even team up for a bit.

[Laufey]

With my business done with Junior, I felt an all to common feeling. Hunger. I'd barely eaten anything the past week, not wanting to lose the kid, I would have been able to find him again easily enough, but that wasn't the point. Either way, I was hungry and I had about twenty dollars to my name, it was enough for me to get a hot meal or two, but considering the time I wasn't sure where to go.

I had taken refuge of sorts on a rooftop close to scene of the crime, by this point there was roughly thirty officers there. That made perfect sense, what with the Chief of Police being in the pocket of Tony Gambetti himself and all. Come to think of it, who in the local government wasn't getting money from him? Well, let's just say if I had my way, suddenly a lot of people are going to be without that summer house. But that would have to wait until another time, now I needed food.

I pull off my sweater, which at this point doesn't do a lot for keeping me warm and use the inside to wipe my face somewhat cleaner. Once that was done, I simply threw it over the edge, I was far enough away that no one notice it, and this was Empire City, whoever did find would simply assume it belonged to a junkie, or a junkie would come along and get themselves some new clothes. I open up my backpack and find my hoodie, at least that kept me warm and even had the added benefit of keeping my face covered if I so desired it. It was black of course, wearing bright clothing in my line of work was just a recipe for disaster.

I folded up my bow, and placed it within my pack. It was a pretty interesting design, which I totally didn't steal from some tech lab a few years back. What I knew about it didn't make any sense to me, seriously, what's Carbon fibre meant to be? I simply knew it was light, yet durable and could carry one hell of a punch if you put your weight into it properly. Not to mention it was retractable, in it's folded form I could open it with ease. As for folding it back up? Well, that wasn't the fastest of procedures in the world.

The arrows weren't anything special either, nothing more than an off the shelf arrow. They cost about a dollar fifty each, and lets just say I go through a lot of arrows in a single week, so it wasn't cheap, but making money in this city isn't hard exactly hard either.

Now that I once again looked like a normal human being, I made my way down the building and into the streets of Empire City, I couldn't see the police from here, which was probably because I was avoiding them. I'd just walk around until I found some diner open at this godforsaken time, with any luck they won't have a menu which robs you.

[Korbanjaro]

"Good evening," said the man in the helmet. "You seem to have lost your way."

The rain was starting to pour down, bouncing over Carter's helmet, and drizzling down his uniform. Though the shell was waterproof, his uniform was not. He'd be making his way back to the garage soaked tonight.

Here's hoping that soak remains just water, not blood.

"Look," said the short man, continuing to back down the alleyway. He kept looking over Riot's shoulder, and around him, his eyes on the alley entrance. "I already dealt wit' you friend in the red tights, a'ight? I din't do nothing. That fruitcake is crazy!"

"Not a friend," said Carter coldly. "And I doubt you're all that innocent."

Carter stood up straight, holding the shield, and pointed to the man with his off-hand.

"You tell me who you are. Now," said Carter. "Or I leave you to him."

The short man looked at Carter, then around him, and then back at the walking man-tank in front of him.

"I'm... My name is..."

"Hey!"

Carter recognized Reverb's voice behind him. It seemed that the kid hadn't been gone long, doubling back rather quickly. Carter did not turn, but the short man seemed to take the new arrival's cue to shut himself up tight.

"Oy, Riot!"

Well, it seems that my reputation preceeds me.

"You mind me taking this little fuck down, I did the brute work on his crew and all. I appreciate you helping me find him, and I really do appreciate it." The bleeding vigilante began to step forward, offering a smile.

Carter planted his shield down right in front of him, turning slightly.

"These are criminals, not bounties, kid," replied Carter, getting a little annoyed. "This isn't some game."

"But that son of a bitch there is my target," continued Reverb, unphased. "I got the papers on him too."

Just the wording by Reverb here was starting to grind Carter a little. Papers? Since when did vigilantes need papers?

We don't do this because we have permission. We're just as illegal as the criminals we stop. But we do this because these idiots need to be stopped. They need to be brought down. The common people don't deserve the hell they're being dropped into.

Reverb reached into a pocket, (how anything stayed hidden in skin-tight pockets was beyond Carter's understanding), and produced a folded up bundle of papers, which were starting to catch the rain.

Carter grasped the papers out of Reverb's hand, unfolding them quickly. On the top was a warrant list, with the name Benjamin Tramunte, a.k.a. Benny the Knife, circled in black pen. It seemed that Carter had gotten the name he was looking for.

Benny the Knife was a rising star in one of the lower families, with a small crew, but big ambitions. It seemed that he wasn't all that satisfied to be small-time any longer. Could this be the person calling the shots here in West End?

"I'm Reverb by the way," said the young man in red. He offered a hand to Carter. " I think we could work this asshole over together, maybe even team up for a bit."

Carter handed the papers back, and beneath the shaded lens of his helmet, his teeth grinded.

Perhaps we can go along with this little game for bit. I can get what I need, and move on.

"This is the same man I'm looking for. I need him alive - I need some questions answered. I get my answers, he's all yours."

[HellHoundWoof]

"Feel free to slam the shit out of him," Reverb smiled looking at Benny, "As much as he deserves death I need him alive to get paid. But a few broken bones won't hurt him."

Reverb looked at Riot with a bit of an annoyed glance. This guy didn't seem to like Reverb, probably thought Reverb was in it for the cash, which partially was true but one requires ones to fund such endeavors, for equipment, medical, to hire informants, the idiots who said money can't buy happiness were far from correct. Money bought weapons, money got his suit fixed and his arm stitched up.

[Sturmgewehr]

Tyler and a couple of his men were in a store, ran by some asian guy and his family, japanese, korean, chinese, God knew, for Tyler they all looked alike. The poor fool that ran the store owed Tyler money. He hated when people didn't pay their protection money. He usually sends his soldiers to deal with such goons but this guy's case was special, because Tyler kept delaying him. "No, please Mr. Pavoni, I promise i'll give you your money next week." Said the man as he kneeled down in front of Tyler and he grabbed him by his legs with the look of a desperate man on his face. Tyler let go of the man's grip as he made two steps back and kicked the guy in the stomach watching him fall on the floor. Then Tyler leaned down as the man was struggling to get up.

"You said the same damn thing last week Han. And quite frankly i'm tired of waiting. You said you have a family, a child to take care of. I understood and I kept delaying you. But enough is enough Han!" Said Tyler as he grabbed Han by his hair while he was still down, pulled out his 1911 and pressed it against the right side of his head. "Either you give me the money now, or Judgement Day will come sooner for you." Said Tyler as he cocked the gun. "No, no, no, no!" Said Han as he quickly rised up and went behind the counter grabbing some box and opening it. "This is all the money I have!" Said Han as he ran back towards Tyler who in the meantime rised back up and decocked his gun, putting it back in the holster.

"This is all the money I have, just please...don't kill me!" Said Han almost crying. Tyler grabbed the money from Han's hands and started counting it. "It's more then enough." Said Tyler as he put the money in an inside pocket of his suit. "It was great doing business with you my chinese-american friend. See you next month. I hope you won't come up with any more excuses then!" Said Tyler as he headed for the exit with the four soldiers that accompanied him following his lead. Tyler got inside his car, or one of his cars anyway. A grey 1975 Mercedes-Benz 450 SEL. This car was something. Powerful 6.9 liter V8 engine, red leather interior. Top german engineering. Tyler was using this car for his everyday driving needs. Although he rarely drove it himself because he had a driver, some guy from Chile, named Juan. The four soldiers that came with him to Han's store got inside a Ford van and drove off.

"Where to Mr. Pavoni?" Asked Juan as he turned around looking at Tyler, who wasted no time in answering Juan's question. "Take me to 6th street Juan. I'm supposed to meet with one of my dealers there. One of the idiots he sold drugs to needs to give him some money." Said Tyler visibly upset as Juan started the car and drove off. "What a shitty day." Said Tyler as he took out a cuban cigar and chopped out one of it's ends with a cigar cutter as he placed it in his mouth. "Nothing good happened. Just problems, problems, problems. I'm tired of problems Juan. They piss me off!" Said Tyler with a raised voice as he pulled out a zippo lighter and lighted the cigar. "Were here sir!" Said Juan as he stopped the car in a parking lot. "Good! Now we wait for for dear, sweet Kyle to show up and give my man the money he owes him." Said Tyler as he took a smoke from the cigar and blowed it out as he looked at the dealer. He could see him from where he was.

[Korbanjaro]

"Feel free to slam the shit out of him," Reverb smiled, glancing at Benny to get the mobster's clearly wide-eyed reaction.

Carter thought on this for a moment. He knew very little about this man, Benny the Knife, and even less about his new companion, Reverb. Even further, he had no desire to carry out an interrogation in the middle of an alley, in the rain, no less.

He glanced about the alley, and saw that there was only one door, with the words "Plugged-Up Plumbing" displayed prominantly on the faded white paint.

As good a place as any.

Carter stepped forward, gripping Benny's collar with his right hand, before shoving him into the wall near the door.

"A move or a sound," stated Carter coolly. "And you'll go back to your boys without teeth."

Benny was a surpringly talented quick-learner at the quiet game.

Carter reached into one of his drop pouches, and produced a small lockpick and a tension wrench. He glanced at the lock, jimmied the wrench into place for a quick test before inserting the pick. A six quick clicks later, and the the deadbolt spun open with a satisfying 'thunk.'

He pulled open the door, and shoved Benny inside, retrieving his shield on the way.

44.6 seconds. I'm losing my touch.

The plumbing shop had a remarkably well-organized back room, especially for a place so filled with varieties of items. Pipes and fittings of every size, shape, and material filled shelves to the ceiling. A workbench area in the center of the room had little but a small table and two chairs.

The table soon found itself on the other side of the room. Instead, a cuffed Benny Tramunte sat silently in its place.

Carter stood across from the man, leaning against one of the shelves, his helmet still not betraying his piercing glare. He studied the man for a moment, noticing the rain dripping down his face, but the clear sense of panic as he glanced from Riot to Reverb, then back to Riot again.

Benny, you've found yourself between a rock and a hard place tonight, and I'm truly not sure which is which.

"Mr. Tramunte," said Carter finally. "You may have put together that I'm looking to get a couple questions answered. How this proceeds is entirely up to you."

Carter stood up straight, and began pacing, slowly.

"You answer my questions correctly, and I'll leave you to the capable hands of my associate, here. You don't..."

Carter pulled a length of lead pipe from one of the racks.

"And you may not walk out of here at all."

"As much as he deserves death I need him alive to get paid," reminded Reverb. Riot turned and looked at him, the mask hiding his features, but the silence clearly portraying surprise at his being interrupted.

"But," continued the man, "A few broken bones won't hurt him."

Benny was clearly not comforted.

"What the fuck do you want!?"

Carter reached into his other drop pouch, and unfolded four photos, each of a different victim. Each had had their throat slit, and lay unmoving in a pool of their own blood.

They had been slit and left to bleed out. Gruesome, but effective.

Riot showed these photos to Benny.

"Four deaths, initially unrelated, but you and I know the truth." Carter showed the first photo. "Anthony Bonanno." The next. "Anthony Tuzzo. Pasquale Solano. Joseph Orena. Notice a pattern?"

"Hey, there's a lot of Italians in this neighba-hood."

"But each of these were prominant risers in the West End families. Each of these men were in the same position as you, Benny, and that's got me curious."

"You can't prove nothing, Riot," said Benny, suddenly a little smug. "You ain't no cop."

"You're right," agreed Riot. He tapped the pipe in hand. "The police of this city are just another arm of the Castelvatrano Empire. The Family's got them in their back pockets. But me..."

Carter, now directly behind Benny, laid the pipe on the man's shoulder.

"I'm not bound by those rules."

He leaned forward.

"Tell me about the hits, Benny. Who put them out?"

"Fuck you! You kill me, you get nothin!"

"Maybe the satisfaction of cleaning you off the street. Like crushing a bug underneath my boot."

"Those hits weren't even in my neighborhood! I own up past 32nd. Anything south of that is Gambetti's turf!"

Gambetti. Anthony Gambetti. Minor Don in the Castelvatrano Family, but easily one of the most ruthless. Though operates on the upper west, his muscle has been pressing south. He fits. Damn it.

But then there was another question that came to mind. If Benny didn't commit those hits, then that would mean that someone else was cleaning house. But there had been no eyewitnesses of mob hitmen in the area.

It wasn't until Carter noticed the red and black out of the corner of his eye that his internal alarm started to sound.

Could it be that Reverb was operating on Gambetti's behalf? On behalf of the Family?

There's certainly one way to try and find out.

"Benny, what's your family like?"

[HellHoundWoof]

"We hire people with strength," Benny responded, "The ones with brains usually get snuffed out pretty quick, ain't got no room for any ambitious fucks, those pictures you shows me we do it like that but we got more style. Those cuts ain't deep enough, I personally put the knife in one end of the neck connect with the spine and pivot off of it just so that,"

Benny's sentence was cut off by a metal coated fist knocking the side of his face, "You sick fuck, is that what happened to the pawn shop girl!? The old man in the fuckin alley!? Huh!?"

"Those," Benny said between spits of blood, "Were minor infractions, I've done worse, like I was saying my family hires brawn not brains, got some issues with those fuckin Gambettis, a few issues with the Greeks and Russians."

Reverb grimaced and took a few steps back trying to calm himself down, he knew the girl from the Pawnshop and had actually taken a few things there to sell. She was cute, her name was Julia or Jane or something, he only met her a few times but she was a nice person and didn't deserve what she got. Reverb drove his elbow into the a metal shelf and dented it.

[Korbanjaro]

"Benny, what's your Family like?"

"We hire people with strength," Benny responded. "The ones with brains usually get snuffed out pretty quick, ain't got no room for any ambitious fucks."

He indicated the pictures that Carter was holding. "Those pictures you shows me - we do it like that, but we got more style. Those cuts ain't deep enough," He seemed to beam with a little bit of pride. "I personally put the knife in one end of the neck connect with the spine and pivot off of it just so that..."

Benny's sentence was cut off by a metal coated fist knocking the side of his face, as Reverb entered into the conversation "You sick fuck, is that what happened to the pawn shop girl!? The old man in the fuckin' alley!? Huh!?"

Bit of a rage problem on this one, thought Carter. Going to have to keep an eye on him.

"Those," Benny spat, blood on his teeth. "Were minor infractions, I've done worse. Like I was saying, my family hires brawn not brains - got some issues with those fuckin' Gambettis, a few issues with the Greeks and Russians."

Makes sense. I may have to shake down some of Jugo's men later to get the full picture here.

Draza "The Jugo" Kavaja was the Russian equivalent of the former don of the Castelvatrano family - Ruthless, ambitious, and all-too pleased that the leader of his main source of competition had been removed from the picture. It was no secret that he was attempting to muscle in on Italian turf...

That was certainly an angle that Carter hadn't considered - If Jugo was pushing in on the West End, could it be he was weakening the competition? Could it be Jugo was trying to get a push in before someone, like say, Anthony Gambetti, got a foothold?

There were far too many factors to consider, here. And Carter would not be able to get much more usable information, especially if Reverb's violent displays were any indication.

Carter took note of the young man's outburst as he drove his elbow into a nearby shelf, driving a considerable dent.

Now there's evidence to leave at the scene. Sloppy.

Attention back to the perp at hand.

"Mr. Tramunte," said Carter calmly. "You've certainly given me a few things to think about."

Carter reached into his belt, and pulled a small item from it - An injector. He calmly placed the nozzle just under Benny's right armpit, while placing his other hand around the man's collar.

"This," said Carter. "Is a subdermal tracking device." He pulled the trigger, shooting a pressurized burst. Benny winced slightly. The area had a small mark on Benny's skin. Barely noticeable.

"You son of a bitch!" Benny was not amused. "What the hell did you just do to me??"

"It's a simple tracker. I'm curious about where such a gentleman like yourself is going to end up, and this'll let me keep an eye on you."

Carter turned to Reverb.

"He's all yours. Take good care of him." Carter walked to the back of the store, and stepped out, being sure that the door was locked.

With that, Carter walked towards the back of the shop, and pushed open the door, allowing the rain to patter on the ground as his walked away, the plumbing shop door slowly closing with a soft "click."

[HellHoundWoof]

Reverb grabbed Benny by the collar and shoved him onto the streets, he set him down next to a dumpster and pulled out his cellular phone. He dialed the number of an old friend of his, his name was Visily Kerstav, he and Reverb grew up together. Reverb watched Benny carefully, he despised this scumbag and wanted him dead more than anything, only issue being he needed the cash. Within a half hour or so a federal escalade rolled up just inside the alley.

"What's up you government fuck," Reverb shouted as his friend stepped out of the car, he embraced Reverb and the two laughed a moment. The two of them stopped chatting and turned towards Benny, they exchanged a glance and looked back him.

"This is him?" Visily said in Russian, Reverb nodded. Visily picked up Benny by the arm and pulled it behind his back then grabbed the other and clicked the handcuffs over them. Benny squirmed but was silenced by Reverbs fist slamming into his face. The pair loaded him into the backseat of the escalade Reverb handed him the papers and collected his reward, a cold $100,000. He could buy some new equipment, a back up suit, some other shit. He walked off down the alley and climbed a fire escape, he made it to the roof and made his way toward the north side of the city. He spent an hour and a half finding his way to his safe house, it sat in a condemned building, it was 3 stories then a completely destroyed 4th story, and an extremely sturdy basement. This was where his home was it wasn't damp, it wasn't dark, he kept it well lit and had it tightly secured, a 3 inch thick steel door surrounded by concrete was what made sure he slept at night. He stocked his uniform and staff then sat down on the floor and put a backpack behind his head as a pillow.

Present

Reverb sat on a rooftop, he was on the phone with Visily, he could hear his wife speaking rapid Spanish in the background and Visily responding in broken Spanish, then his children screaming, he heard dishes clang and the children laughing and running away, Visily was cursing in Russian then handed the phone to his eldest child named Asha.

"Hello Uncle Nikolai," he heard her say.

"Hello Zaika," Reverb said (little rabbit in Russian), "I would like to talk but I have work to do, tell your father I'm visiting our friend. With that Reverb jumped over the side of the building and aimed his hands like guns, he saw three men in typical gang garb and one whom he recognized, he altered his voice pattern and spoke.

"Alexander," Reverb said angrily, "Leave now, or it hits you."

The young man closest to Reverb took a few steps toward him and then ran off down the road, the gang members drew pistols from their belt lines, only one held it correctly the other two held it with one hand and at an angle. Amateurs, fucking amateurs, well he was in the bangers territory not much skill with these idiots. He raised his thumbs and slammed them down. He only did it for the looks but it looks amazing, he saw ripples of sound launch down his fingers and take out the two to his left, a shot was fired from the one farthest to the left, the gun snapped back and hit him in the forehead. Reverb let out a laugh that was stunted by the bullet hitting him in the lower left side of his abdomen.

"Shit," Reverb said as he bent over in pain, before the thug could recover Reverb aimed his hand towards the thug and let out a wide sound cone, he knocked back some trash that was nearby and launched a trash can off into the distance, the thug himself was thrown back several feet before hitting the side of a building. Reverb grimaced. He clutched his side and walked over to one of the thugs, he pulled his hoodie off and put it over himself, he then ran away. He knew there was a cheap hospital about 3 blocks away. He hurried off then found Alexander waiting for him not far away.

"Well done," He said with a smile before noticing the blood soaking through the hoodie, "Shit, I have a car nearby I can go and get it."

Reverb nodded and leaned against a building, he watched Alexander run off and in a minute or so a minivan came rolling up, he watched as Alexander came around the side of the car and opened the sliding doors. Reverb watched as his vision crowded with black, he felt Alexander lift him up by his arms then setting him up, he felt himself set into a cushioned seat and then felt warm blood on the seat. He fought to stay awake but couldn't anymore, he heard Alexander say something then he blanked out.

Alexander checked in the backseat and saw Reverb pass out then sped off towards the hospital, it wasn't exactly a good hospital, but they could help him out. Alexander pulled into the ER area and jumped out of the car, he opened the doors and helped Reverb out. Doctors ran out and took him, Alexander grabbed Reverbs phone and walked out, he scrolled through the contacts until he found what he was looking for, Visily. He called the number and heard his cousins voice.

"Visily this is Alexander," he said rapidly, "Reverb was shot, he's in the hospital."

Visily was calm in his response, "Thats an occupational hazard my friend, did he change clothes first?"

Alexander's jaw dropped, he stammered, "I...I... I didn't think to change him, he needed to get help, he was bleeding out."

"Damnit you fool! He could be found out, you need to get in that room and ensure no one knows who he is. If he is found out we are in deep, deep shit! We are connected to this, I am connected, you are connected, we are in deep shit here my friend."

[HellHoundWoof]

[My bad, Internet was laggy.]