Nemesis: Loose Ends, Part III
Luke and Jen entered the bar in a rush, laughing as they shook the rain from their coats and stomped bits of slush from their boots. Luke was wearing a heavy denim shirt over a tee with jeans and functional work boots; Jen had a light jacket over a turtleneck, also wearing jeans, but her boots were somewhat more fashionable. Her hair was in a ponytail, but one strand had come loose and hung over the side of her face.
Pops smiled and nodded politely, already turning to pour Luke a beer. He was working on Jen’s vodka-cran when the couple sat down.
“You totally cheated!” Jen laughed.
Luke shook his head. “Never happen. I don’t cheat.”
Jen’s mouth dropped in mock amazement. “Last week you sucked at that game. This week you were all over it.”
“What can I say?” Luke chuckled. “I’m a quick study.”
“That would explain all those trips to the arcade,” Pops interjected helpfully, setting the drinks down.
“Hey!” Jen smacked Luke on the shoulder.
“That’s not cheating, though,” Luke hastened to add. “You never said anything about not being able to practice.”
“Last time I make a bet with you over an arcade game.” Jen shook her head then noticed the drink. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said to Pops. “I’d love to stay but I have to pull a late shift at the hospital.” She made a moue. “When you’re only part time you pick up whatever shifts are available.”
“No problem, sweetie,” Pops smiled. He took the drink away. “I’ll get somebody to drink it.”
Jen smiled her thanks. Luke stood again and walked her back to the door, helping her with her coat. “Call me later?” he asked.
Jen frowned. “It’ll be, like, two in the morning.”
Luke smirked and jerked his head at the bar. “Hey, I do this for a living, remember? Trust me, I’ll still be up.”
Smiling, Jen reached up and kissed him. “Okay.” She gave his cheek a pat. “I’ll call you later, then.”
“I’ll wait by the phone.”
Jen opened the door and exited. Just before he could turn away a stunning brunette entered. As the door closed again she shrugged out of her designer coat with fur collar and smiled at Luke as she hung it on the wall peg. He smiled politely and stepped out of her way. She made eye contact again as she walked past him to the bar. Luke shook his head and went back to retrieve his beer, trying very hard not to look her way again.
He grabbed his beer and moved to the end of the bar. Pops served the woman a drink and walked over to Luke. He snorted.
“That drink didn’t even have time for the ice to melt,” he said. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the brunette. “Vodka-cran. Sometimes these things just work out.”
“Mmhmm,” Luke agreed, taking a sip of his own beer. The brunette was sipping her drink through a straw. She had her cell phone out, the PDA variety.
“Hey, that reminds me.” Luke stood up and leaned partially over the bar. “Hand me my laptop, would you, please?”
Pops snorted again, making a show of the effort bending over to retrieve the computer case cost him. Luke smirked and withdrew the computer with practiced ease.
“Haven’t checked my email all week,” he said with a grin.
“You two have been pretty busy,” Pops agreed. He nodded once. “It’s good to see you out and about. I was beginning to wonder about you.”
Luke scoffed. “The deuce you say.” He chuckled and shook his head as he typed in his password. “Just because I’m not actively trolling for a date doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate something good when it comes along.”
“Oh, I know,” Pops said. “I wasn’t worried about you finding someone. I was just afraid it was going to be that DiSantiago lady you work for.”
“With,” Luke corrected automatically without looking up. “I work with her, not for her.”
“Whatever you say.” Pops’ tone made it clear he didn’t agree. “Still, you’ve got yourself a real sweetheart there. I’m glad for you.”
“You know,” Luke said suddenly, leaning forward on the bar. “It’s like I’ve known her forever. It’s only been a week but it’s like—I don’t know. Every time we try something new it turns out we’re good at it. Or both equally bad. Or whatever.”
Pops snorted. “Jesus, you got it bad.”
Luke grinned broadly. “Yeah, I do, don’t I.” He went back to his computer. “It’s a nice change of pace, I’ll give you that.”
Pops snorted one last time and went off to serve another drink. Luke’s fingers ran over the keyboard and mouse with practiced ease as he checked his email accounts, then logged into the Nemesis forums. He hadn’t visited them since New Year’s Day and he’d begun feeling guilty about neglecting his fans.
It was maybe thirty minutes into it that he saw the message. He’d answered a myriad of posts about the debut of the Conquistadors, most of the positive but several of them demanding to know why he sold out. There were mixed reviews from every perspective, and a poll had been started about whether it was a good thing or not. He wasn’t sure how he felt about thirty-one percent thinking it was a bad idea, but at least forty-six percent were in favor of it. The remaining twenty-three percent was split between “Don’t cares”, “It’s a trick” and a combination of “I’m in favor of it but it won’t last” or “I hate it but I hope it works”. He could spend hours replying to all of the questions being sent his way but he opted to check the other threads, the ones he usually trolled for general information.
That’s where he saw the post from Frankie Jacks. Besides having the user handle of “F-Jacks”, the post mentioned iPhones.
Nem buddy, Need help. Beyond iphones. Same alley. Urgent. Please. –F-Jacks
It wasn’t much of a post, but Luke was too surprised to see a post by Frankie to even begin analyzing his typing style. He did a quick search. Frankie had posted the same message twice before, beginning late New Year’s Day. Different times and, after a quick traceroute, different IPs. Luke was willing to bet he was using one of the internet cafés to send the message. Maybe the library. He’d track it down later. The fact that Frankie was asking him for help—Please, even—was enough to rouse his curiosity.
He hit “Reply” and typed a single response.
Coming. -N
Luke slammed his beer and closed his laptop. He zipped up the case and waved to Pops as he all but ran into the back room. The brunette watched him come, a smile forming and falling away as he passed by without noticing her. She sighed and went back to her PDA.
* * * * *
The sky was a dark grey as Nemesis sat perched atop the brick building neighboring the alley he’d caught Frankie in some few months prior. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, but it still had the icy feel of slush as it managed to find its way into the seams between his costume. Luke had to keep turning on the Night Vision in his goggles to defrost them. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there—an hour, maybe more—when he saw Frankie Jacks enter the alley.
He looked much as he had before. Old army jacket over ratty flannel over ratty shirt over ratty jeans above ratty boots. A ski cap was pulled low on over ratty hair and he kept tugging on the ratty collar to try and keep the rain off his neck. He looked just as skittish as he had before, too, but as he looked up to scan the skies Luke noticed a darkness around the eyes, a tightness around the lips. This wasn’t the nervous Frankie Jacks he’d met before. This was a full-on terrified Frankie Jacks.
Nemesis ducked back from the edge of the roof and walked to the end of the building. He levered himself over the side and bounced off adjoining walls, coming to a perfect three-point landing without so much as a serious exhalation of breath. He stood and calmly strode forward from the depths of the alley, staff at the ready.
“I got your message,” he said loudly.
“Jesus!” Frankie jumped and spun around, halfway ready to run before he realized who it was. Realization hit and he slumped with relief. Nemesis wasn’t expecting that.
“Jesus Christ, dude, you scared the shit out of me!”
“It’s kind of my thing,” Nemesis replied. He stopped several feet from Frankie, his eyes scanning the end of the alley and the adjoining street. If this was a trap it had best be a good one.
“No shit,” Frankie muttered. He pulled himself together and took a deep breath. “Thanks for coming, man. I—“ He managed to look sheepish. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t.”
“You piqued my curiosity.” Nemesis took an at-ease stance, his staff cradled in one arm. “What’s this about you needing my help?”
Frankie took another deep breath and walked further into the alley, giving Nemesis a wide and nervous berth. Nemesis turned to track him, then moved inward, as well, so his back wasn’t to the street.
“That Colonel thing,” Frankie began. He stopped.
“What about it?” Nemesis prompted coldly. He still didn’t like thinking about it, much less talking about it.
“It ain’t over.”
Nemesis didn’t say anything, and after several long moments Frankie continued. “It wasn’t just the Colonel and his guys, you know,” he explained. “There were always other people. Drivers, spotters, guys who snatched the girls, guys who took the girls when he was through with ‘em…” he spread his hands. “It was like a network. The Colonel wasn’t—isn’t—the only one with tastes like that, and there’s like this whole network of people in the loop, y’know?”
“I didn’t,” Nemesis said. “But keep going.”
“Yeah.” Frankie swallowed hard. “The thing is, I came back for a funeral. This guy, Turk, he was nice to me, y’know?” The petty criminal hung his head and stared at his feet. “Most times the guys doing the real crimes don’t bother with someone like me, but Turk, he looked out for me. Threw me a little job now and then, made sure I was okay. It ain’t much of a friendship but it was all I had.” He fell quiet.
“Go on,” Nemesis prompted.
“Right.” Frankie nodded. “So Turk got himself killed about two weeks back. It sucks, but its part of the risk, you know? We all just thought he’d jacked the wrong guy or something. But then Bones got hit. Right outside Longshots, right after me and him had a drink. And then Jimmy Cricket got hit right after I went to see him.” The words were coming in a rush now. “And there were others. A couple of the freelance guys who worked for the Colonel, that half-Jap pimp who took some of the girls. They’re all getting’ nailed, man. Everyone who had anything to do with it is getting’ killed.”
Nemesis processed that. He’d heard about some of it; small-time thieves, crooks, thugs and pimps got themselves killed all the time, and if there was a bit of a rise in homicides among criminals, well, some of it could be blamed on the season. It was a new year, after all. A time for change.
“What’s your point?”
Frankie looked up at Nemesis, fear in his eyes but surprise on his face. “My point? My point is that someone is out there killing people, man! Aren’t you supposed to do something about shit like that?”
Nemesis chose his next words carefully. “What makes you think I care what happens to the criminals?” he asked. “If they get killed as a result of the criminal choices they made, that just makes my job easier.”
“Bullshit!” Frankie retorted hotly. He took a step forward and jabbed his finger at Nemesis. “You’re a fucking hero! You don’t just let people get killed no matter who they are!”
Nemesis cocked his head slightly and just stared at Frankie. The little man took a step back, his face flushed.
“Sorry.” He spread his hands. “I just thought—you know, since you’re a hero now. And that stuff you said on teevee. I thought…” he trailed off, the slump in shoulders signaling defeat. “I just thought…”
Nemesis stared at him some more, his mind working through what he’d just been told. Frankie sniffled. Beneath his goggles Nemesis blinked in surprise. Was he…?
“Are you crying?” he asked aloud.
“No!” Frankie replied, turning away. He sniffled again. “Maybe,” he conceded. “It doesn’t matter. I’m a dead man anyway. What do I care that the high and mighty Nemesis saw me cry.” He gave a shuddering sob. “You were my last hope, man.”
Of all the things he’d expected, Frankie Jacks reduced to tears wasn’t one of them. “Okay,” he said. Frankie looked up, a glimmer of hope in his reddened eyes.
Nemesis nodded. “Yeah. We’ll talk.”
The elation and hope on Frankie’s face twisted a knot in Luke’s stomach. “I’m not promising anything,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “I’m just saying I’ll hear you out.” He jerked his head at the back of the alley. “Take the fire escape to the roof. There’s a little greenhouse up there where we can talk out of the rain.”
“Thanks!” Frankie looked like he wanted to hug him. “No shit, man. Thanks a bunch!” He shuffled quickly down the alley. “I got all kinds of stuff, man. Names, places…you’ll see. I can help.” He turned and almost ran for the fire escape.
Nemesis sighed and retrieved his swingline from his belt. There was a muffled whump and the high-tension cord sailed skyward, the mini-climbing hook deploying as it sailed upwards. Nemesis jerked on the cord once, securing the line, then began quickly scaling the wall.
I’m going to regret this, he thought as he climbed. I just know it. But deep inside he knew Frankie was right. Just because they were criminals didn’t mean they deserved to die on the streets. He was already cataloging which gangs, vigilantes or even cops might be responsible for the deaths as he reached the roof and escorted Frankie into the greenhouse to talk.
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Comments
Poor Jen
She doesn't deserve this. I feel for the girl, really I do. Sweet kid, nurse. Helps the sick. Probably donates her time to the local shelter (both homeless and animal). And here she is dating this really nice, good looking funny guy named Luke who seems to get all her jokes and doesn't mind the crazy schedule a nurse has. Everyone at the bar run by his dad-even-if-he-isn't Pops seems to love him.
Poor poor Jen.
Because at the end of the day, I don't think Luke can ever stop being Nemesis, and Nemesis isn't who you bring home to the parents at Christmas.
I love these stories. Keep em coming ma man!
Like a story within a
Like a story within a story! This is fantastic! They're perfectly bite-sized, too - like episodes with cliff-hangers. I want more, but I can't wait for next week!
Excellent job, Dave - keep it up!
Kudos
I love that you started with Jen and Luke and then moved to Frankie and Nemesis.
I really enjoy the Luke dynamic...and the contrast with the Nemesis dynamic.
...and Frankie! He's just so pathetic. That bit about him crying was made of awesome.
I'm so jealous of you, Dave.
I'm so jealous of you, Dave. You make it all look so easy. Great job.
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Imagination is the seed of intelligence. Nourish it and watch it grow.