On First Name Terms
2 Months Later…..
“………and that’s the story of how Tiddles the dog saved John Davids from the fire”
The news reporter smirked slightly as his page before continuing with his reports. His face gave a comical twitch before looking gaunt and bored.
“And in other news today, the ongoing search continues for the killer of Bartholomew Diggers, Jeffrey Mason, Cormac O’Donell and Klaus Starkovzy. Police say that these murders were all connected but they are still unsure of WHO exactly is the murderer.All leads have been unsuccessful. Finally, local politician Gary Lewiss stated—”
The T.V. had been shut off. Jake Bellicks rose from his chair. He moved towards the table and poured out some coffee. As he drank, he gazed out the window,barely taking in what was going on outside. He was in deep concentration as he walked around the room.
‘Eaglethorn Authorities should’ve had this wrapped up in a bag,thrown in the gutter and become yesterday’s news by now. But no. This guy was a professional. He seemed to know the ins and outs of Eaglethorn and all it’s members..including me’.
Eaglethorn Authorities was a organisation that started off small inside the American Government at the end of World War Two. It consisted of soldiers,Generals,spies,scientists,strategists,detectives and, for a period of time, a limited amount of crooks. But they preferred to be called ‘Insiders’. Eaglethorn had answered and uncovered almost every mystery to date.
But now someone REALLY WAS testing their limits. Someone was making Eaglethorn scared. Someone was able to make a serious organisation look like Alice In Wonderlands tea party.
Whoever this was was striking from the core.
Whoever this was is a cop killer.
Whoever this was…must PAY.
And Bellicks knew the guy who would do that.
‘THE BAR WITH A THOUSAND NAMES’
The air was full of tobacco smoke. The stench of beer and whiskey and cider filled the room. Shifty looking men sat in corners of rooms, discussing ‘legitimate business’, avoiding other peoples gazes. The bar door opened with a creak. A man with a long black coat walked in. A leather mask covered his face. He sat down. Silence filled the room. The man turned.
“How ’bout everyone go back to their drinks and discuss their next prostitution run before I start kicking heads in”.
Everything returned to normal. The man ordered a flagon of beer and a bowl of peanuts.
Another man stood up from his seat and moved towards the first. The second was a chubby build,balding and a long red scar covering his neck. He coughed.
The fat man coughed again, this time a little louder. His brow begin to sweat. The man decided to sit down. He fiddled with his hands and mumbled a few words. The masked man noticed nothing, he just ate the peanuts.
” I-I..*cough* I..uh..hear you..you’ve been..uh.. busy.” stuttered the fat man. “I-I was uh..hoping
that you…uhh…would get back to me about my proposal?” The masked man drank down his flagon in one go. Belched. Sat back and turned his head towards the fat man.”I told you…. You ain’t my type” The fat man gave a small wheezy chuckle. “Heh..g-g-good one! urm…b-but back to business. Are you..you in or-or out?”
The masked man ordered another drink and gave it to the other. “Drink up,you look thirsty” he said. The other hesitated and then drank, and drank. He put the glass down, gave a weak smile and then he began to gag uncontrollably White foam began to appear in his mouth.He choked, his eyes bulged and then he fell to the floor in a spasm.
The masked man finished his peanuts.
He got up, fixed his jacket and walked out the door. Business returned as usual.
Bellicks walked down the street with his hands dug deep inside his pockets. He passed numerous discount stores, retailers and bars. The rain pounded on the windows, making a strong THUDDING noise. Bellicks lowered his hood more as he walked, getting a certain paranoia that someone was following him. Lost in thought, Bellicks accidentally shouldered a heavy looking biker. Bellicks mumbled “sorry” but that did no good. The gruff biker grasped Bellicks’ shoulder tightly. “O don’t worry, I’ll make sure your SARRY!” came a deep,gruff voice from the biker. He raised his fist,about to punch until WHAM!
The biker struck to the floor,knocked out cold. Saliva poured out of his mouth. Bellicks looked up to his saviour. There stood a man,broad shouldered but lean,clutching a crowbar. He wore a long navy trench coat with a matching Fedora hat. He had tight leathery gloves with gold studs on the knuckles,dark grey boots and a grey suit and bow tie.The only thing that made him stand out was…..
…..HE HAD NO FACE.