Quirky Row Chapter 51: The Noose Tightens

Chapter 51: The Noose Tightens

(Wednesday, March 21st, 2124)

It was fascinating just how quickly things could change, Playa mused to himself. Yesterday, things had been looking up! Star and Stripe had been willing to discuss a pardon with the president, and there was a bright future. And then mere hours later in the same day, Vogel had dropped a metaphorical bombshell on him. Now, he had to track down and kill a wannabe terrorist before he screwed things up for everyone!

‘All while dealing with the heroes tightening a noose around our necks,’ Playa thought to himself with a grimace.

It had been expected, but experiencing the upturn in police raids and ambushes by heroes was still unpleasant.

Add in the fact that the mayor hated his guts, and he’d heard from the rumor mill that she had aspirations aimed at becoming a senator. What better feather in her cap to entice voters her way than capturing the infamous leader of the Third Street Saints and disbanding the gang once and for all?

To that end, she was leaning on the courts to issue warrants for the cops and heroes so they could just go anywhere and arrest anybody.

Anticipating this, the Saints had moved their liquid assets and anything illegal out of the city entirely. Now, the cops were busting down the doors of establishments that were one-hundred percent legal and up-to-code, and Playa had gleefully given the order to Twenty-One and the other social media mavens in the gang to put the law enforcement of Stilwater on blast for the numerous ‘breaches of privacy’ and ‘excessive uses of violence against law-abiding citizens.’

It was not perfect, and too many Saints had gotten arrested on the most minor and petty of charges, but if the pardon was issued, then everything would turn out fine.

‘And if, for some reason, the president doesn’t take my offer? Well, I’ll just have to break everyone out. Or ask Vogel for a favor. I am cleaning up his mess with Dex, after all.’

Thinking about the former Saint and his corporate overlord caused Playa to scowl in annoyance, before he turned his attention back to something he could do. Not that he liked it, but somebody had to do the paperwork, and he had a feeling Johnny would revolt if he tried to push the task onto the Quirkless man.

Several hours of mind-numbingly dull work later, and something finally happened that brought a reprieve from his misery.

“Boss, it’s Twenty-One. I have the preliminary research stuff you wanted,” she said through the intercom, and Playa nodded at that.

“Great. Opening the door now,” Playa said, pressing a button on his desk to unseal his door and allow his lieutenant to enter.

“I need to get a secretary,” Playa muttered as the woman entered.

“Careful, boss, that almost sounded sexist,” she said in a teasing tone.

“Whatever. What have you found out about this ‘Syndicate’ bunch?” Playa asked, and the monkey Quirk woman frowned.

“Not much,” she admitted. “I’ve found evidence that they’re an alliance of sorts between different criminal groups, one of which happens to be the Thule Society. Beyond that, there isn’t much information on them.”

“How many gangs are part of it?” Playa wondered.

“Best guess? At least four,” Twenty-One said. “The Thule Society, obviously. Another group called the Deckers from London. A Mexican cartel that goes by the name ‘The Luchadores.’ And some bunch called Morningstar based out of Steel Port on the east coast. From what I’ve seen, the latter is something of a middle-man for a bunch of different illegal activities between the rest of the Syndicate.”

“ Middle men… so, they don’t commit many crimes, they just help other people commit ‘em,” Playa guessed.

“Yeah. They’re sort of coordinators and a neutral party. If you need guns, Morningstar will buy them from one gang, make sure they are scrubbed of any identify markers and fingers prints, and then sell them to you. For a price.”

“A massive, planet-wide resource laundering operation,” Playa whistled, impressed by the scope of the gang’s operations. He then tilted his head to the side. “And they’re the ones buying Dex’s nuclear waste, aren’t they?”

“That’s right,” Twenty-One confirmed. “The Syndicate operatives Dex has been working with were from the Morningstar gang. What they do with it after? I dunno. Sell it to the highest bidder, most likely. But they probably aren’t using it themselves.”

Playa grimaced at that. Attacking an alliance of gangs with such a massive reach was not a good idea right now. They couldn’t exactly do it while they were also dealing with Stilwater’s issues.

We need to deal with Dex without stepping on the Syndicate’s toes,’ Playa thought to himself.

“There’s uh, something else,” Twenty-One said, looking nervous.

“Am I going to like it?” Playa wondered, already suspecting he knew the answer.

“We got lucky, and some of our guys managed to catch Dex meeting with somebody in a bar near the old Third Street church,” Twenty-One explained, evasively not answering his question. “He snapped a pic before bailing. But what he managed to get is… let’s call it ‘interesting.’”

“Just show me,” Playa sighed, and Twenty-One nodded. She pulled out her phone and then pulled up the photo, showing the screen to him.

The leader of the Third Street Saints instantly recognized both people in the picture. Dex hadn’t changed much. Little bit fatter after five years of luxury, but still fit enough to break skulls and handle a few gangbangers all on his own. But it was the second person that caused Playa to sit up in disbelief.

“Julius?” Playa gasped. “He’s still alive?”

“It seems so,” Twenty-One nodded. “Facial profile matches, even if he is using a different name.”

Any joy he felt at his old boss and savior being alive curdled in his gut as he realized that Julius meeting up with Dex in secret was not a good thing. Worst case scenario? They might even be working together.

“I’m going to need to call another meeting about this, aren’t I?” Playa groaned.

“Seems like it,” Twenty-One said with a hint of apology in her tone.

Before Playa could summon his Inner Circle, there was a loud thumping on the door.

“Boss!” somebody shouted over the intercom. “Shit is going down at the Freckle Bitches on Third and Seacrest! The heroes are after Mink!”

“They’re WHAT?!” Playa exclaimed, standing up out of his chair. He strode over to his closet and grabbed his costume, quickly putting it on and becoming the supervillain in charge of Stilwater.

“What is happening?” Skunk demanded as he yanked the door open and glared at the Saint who’d rushed to get him.

“I-I don’t really know! Mink was buying burgers for all of us in the Support Item team, and then all of a sudden a bunch of heroes were rushing after us! She managed to lead them away so we could escape, but she’s still out there on the run!” the Saint stammered.

“Damn it!” Skunk growled. “I do not need this shit on my plate today!”

He turned towards Twenty-One who was still standing in front of his desk awkwardly.

“Contact the rest! Let them know what is happening! But make sure they don’t do anything! I mean it! I will handle this on my own! Nobody else can interfere, understood?”

“Yes, boss!” the hacker said, saluting him, and Skunk nodded before striding off to find a car.

Upon entering the underground parking lot next to the Mission, a hot-pink car drove up to him, and a window rolled down, revealing Shaundi in her villainess get-up.

“Get in loser, we’re gonna save our girlfriend,” Rafflesia said with a grin, and Skunk snorted.

“How’d you hear about this?” Skunk asked as he got into the passenger’s seat.

“I have ears everywhere,” Rafflesia said proudly. “I’m the head of the Saints’ intelligence network for a reason!”

“I don’t remember giving you that job,” Skunk said with a laugh.

“Somebody had to step up and do it, and nobody else knew the first thing about OpSec or running a spy ring,” Rafflesia replied. “Anyways, thanks to my extensive network of informants, I heard that Mink was in trouble. And I figured you’d be rushing to help her.”

“Smart,” Skunk said, then, in a husky voice, added, “I like that in a woman.”

“Flirt after we save Mink,” Rafflesia said, though her tone was smug and slightly flustered from the praise.

“Where is she now?” Skunk asked as he started loading special rounds into his revolver.

“I got Twenty-One to forward me her phone’s GPS info,” Rafflesia informed him, pointing to the dashboard where a map of Stilwater showed a few blinking dots.

“Looks like she’s on Seventh Street headed for West Main,” Skunk noted, eyeing the purple dot being followed by a bunch of blue ones. “Heroes are still on her tail, though.”

“Of course they are,” Skunk grunted. “There’s no other crimes for them to take care of, so it’s only natural they’d all jump in and try to win some fame by taking down one of my lieutenants.”

“When you put it that way, heroism sounds really self-serving,” Rafflesia snorted.

“Of course it is! These days, the only difference between heroes and villains is that the former act like celebrities!” Skunk laughed back. His mirth then died as he could hear the screaming of police sirens in the distance, and soon, a few of the law enforcement vehicles that were trailing behind the pack could be seen up ahead on the road.

“Step on it, Raf!” Skunk ordered as he rolled the window down and leaned out of it, aiming his gun at the nearest cop car. He fired at the back wheels, and the explosive round destroyed them, shredding rubber and causing the vehicle to spin out of control.

He popped off a few more explosive shots to deter the horde of cops and heroes, and taken aback by the unexpected assault they pulled back, allowing the pink convertible to overtake them and drive up alongside Mink’s.

She waved at them from the window of her purple and gold-rimmed sports car, relief etched onto her face, and Skunk nodded back as he reloaded. He then aimed at the nearest hero who was approaching. It was Spincycle, the aerokinetic gaining speed on his customized motorcycle.

When Skunk fired, Spincycle naturally reacted by knocking the bullets aside with his Quirk, but they exploded in the air, filling the street with smoke.

Unfortunately it only lasted for a few seconds thanks to the Number Six hero’s advanced aerokinesis banishing the smoke away from him, and the other heroes were following in his wake.

“We need to shake these bastards!” Skunk told his girlfriends with a scowl, and both of them nodded.

“Why don’t we take a trip through Shivington!” Rafflesia suggested. “The roads are much narrower in that area, the heroes won’t be able to follow us as easily!”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Skunk said and he quickly texted the instructions to Mink. He desperately hoped she received it as Rafflesia spun the wheel and drove towards the heroes.

Thankfully, it seemed that Mink had gotten the information and was now following closely behind the pink car.

Startled, the cops and heroes scattered out of the way in horror, not wanting to be run over or rammed by a pair of speeding vehicles. Skunk took advantage of the chaos by shooting at a few of the heroes with Quirks he knew would be a problem.

Spincycle was one of them, his aerokinesis was incredibly potent and capable of a lot of annoying tricks and was a hard counter to Skunk’s Quirk. To get the Number Six out of the fight, Skunk shot one of his motorcycle’s wheels off.  Another few bullets wrecked the vehicles of Banana Loco and Crabulon while they were distracted and unable to retaliate.

One hero, a skinny guy dressed like a dog who’d been chasing them on roller skates of all things, was not fast enough to get out of the way, and was thrown onto the hood of the pink car, face pressed against windshield.

“Oops,” Rafflesia said with a noticeable lack of sincerity as she engaged the windshield wipers, smacking the hero’s face with them and causing him to slide off.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Skunk asked as he watched the hero bounce against the pavement behind them.

“Eh, a few broken bones are a good learning experience,” Rafflesia shrugged. “And I think he has enhanced durability.”

“Well, I suppose he did learn not to join a car chase on skates,” Skunk mused. “This isn’t a roller derby.”

The villain then shrugged and began to load some specialty rounds. He then leaned back out the window and aimed back at the other heroes, who’d begun to recover and were now chasing after the two getaway vehicles.

Sticky globs of glue exploded wherever these bullets hit, gunking up wheels and causing them to screech to a halt, and covering up windshields, preventing the drivers from seeing out of them.

However, one bullet failed to hit his target. The glue splattered against an amber colored barrier that was soon dismissed, the gunk falling to the side, revealing a scowling woman on a speeding motorcycle that was catching up to the Saints.

He watched as Amber created a ramp using her Quirk and used it to jump her motorcycle over a damaged police car that was blocking the road as it grew narrower.

“Amber’s on our tail,” Skunk informed them as the heroine responsible began to gain on them. “And she looks pissed.”

“I wonder why?” Rafflesia asked with a roll of her eyes. “Hold on, we’re about to hit a pothole!”

“Shit!” Skunk exclaimed as the car began to rattle violently. “When is the city gonna fix these damn roads?!”

“Dunno, you’d think that after the Sons got run outta town they’d get right on it,” Rafflesia huffed. “Any ideas about where we can lay low?”

“Over there!” Skunk shouted, pointing at a parking lot next to a couple of rundown buildings. “We can ditch the cars there!”

“How are we going to escape the cops afterwards, though?!” Rafflesia asked sharply.

“That building over there used to be a Samedi drug den that I busted!” Skunk informed her. “If we go in through those doors right there, we can slip out through the back! It leads to an alleyway street that’s hard to reach for cars and we can shake off pursuit that way!”

“Well, I don’t have any other ideas,” she replied, before twisting the wheel and hitting the brakes, performing a drift before coming to a halt right in the middle of the street, nice and sideways. Combined with Mink’s car, the road was now blocked off.

“Damn, Raf, that’s impressive driving,” Skunk commented as he exited the vehicle.

“Thanks, Mink has been teaching me some tricks,” Rafflesia replied, she then ran over and gave the pink-furred woman a hug, which Skunk soon joined before urging them onwards.

They made it all the way to the front doors of the run-down building when Mink noticed something wrong.

“Uh, guys?!” Mink called out, a note of worry in her voice. “We have a new problem!”

“Oh, what now?!” Rafflesia wondered, glancing over her shoulder at what Mink was looking at.

Behind them were five men, and it was clear they weren’t police or heroes as they were all dressed in motorcycle jackets with an emblem none of the trio recognized. They were hurrying towards the building, eyes locked onto the three Saints.

“Bounty hunters?” Skunk wondered, squinting at the men who were rushing at them. They pulled out guns and opened fire on him, forcing Skunk to duck behind a pillar while Rafflesia and Mink managed to get into cover within the building itself.

“Live rounds?!” Skunk exclaimed as he stumbled back, holding his shoulder. “Shit, they’re really pulling out all the stops!”

“Quick! Get inside!” Rafflesia urged. He did so, all but diving inside the building as more bullets slammed against the concrete pillar he’d been hiding behind.

“Hold it!” a voice called out, and Skunk blinked in surprise as Amber drove up, glaring at the bounty hunters.

“Why is she helping us?” Mink asked in confusion.

“It’s not out of altruism. I think she just doesn’t want to share the glory or the bounty money,” Skunk replied with a grimace as he looked at his arm. He was extremely glad that he’d bought the bullet-proof jacket. Instead of a bleeding hole it was only bruised.

The bounty hunters seemed to share the villains' disdain, as they turned their guns onto the heroine. Bullets began to ping off of her shields, and Amber leapt off her bike, using smaller barriers as steps as she ran across the air towards the gun-toting men.

“We should go while they’re distracted,” Rafflesia suggested, and the other two nodded in agreement, hurrying through the condemned tenement. A few squatters had set up shop, and there was evidence a new drug lab had sprang up, taking advantage of the Sons of Samedi’s leftover equipment, but nobody bothered the Saints as they escaped through building and then out the backdoor.

They then spent a few more minutes rushing through more buildings and back alleys until they were absolutely certain there was nobody still chasing after them.

“That was too close!” Mink panted as the adrenaline faded.

“What happened? How did this all start?” Skunk asked her, and the woman with pink fur shrugged.

“I dunno! One minute me and my team were having burgers, the next there are heroes coming down on our heads!” Mink exclaimed.

“What about those bounty hunters?” Rafflesia wondered.

“Never seen ‘em before,” Mink replied. “It looked like they were following the police, though.”

“Sounds to me like we have a mole,” Skunk said darkly.

“Maybe somebody recognized me and called the cops?” Mink suggested weakly. “And we were wearing my Saints branded clothing.”

“Possible, but a lot of people are wearing purple these days,” Rafflesia pointed out. “If the cops are going after anybody in purple, we’d have heard about it.”

“I hate to say it, but we really might have a spy in our midst,” Skunk admitted grimly. “Yet another problem to address.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Mink muttered.

“Take us back to the Mission, Rafflesia,” Skunk requests. “We need to have a meeting.”

“Yeah, Mink is right, I really don’t like the sound of that,” the villainess sighed.

Skunk patted her arm comfortingly. He felt the same way.

Returning to the base took some time. They had to keep to the side streets and avoid being seen by any of the patrols. Playa and Shaundi made sure to remove their costumes, since trying to sneak around while wearing them would be temping fate a bit too much.

When they got back, the members of the Inner Circle were already there waiting for them in Playa’s office.

“Whoo! You’re back!” Pierce said, pumping his fist.

“Oh, my baby!” Laura said, rushing over to Mink’s side. “Are you alright, Amy?”

“I’m fine, mom,” Mink said, embarrassed by her mother fussing over her.

“Glad you’re all okay, boss. Do we know who those guys were?” Carlos asked as Playa took a seat at his desk.

“Twenty-One looked ‘em up. The dudes who shot at you, Playa, are a bounty hunting team. Calls themselves the Wild Stallions. Dumb namely. Only one of them as an equine Quirk,” Johnny scoffed.

“I’m surprised it took this long for the bounty hunters to show up,” Playa admitted.

“Probably because the other gangs are gone and won’t take offense to their presence anymore. And you’re not exactly a monster like a lot of other villains with bounties as high as yours,” Johnny said. “You’re more likely to just beat ‘em up instead of string them up then have their families executed.”

“So, they thought I was, what, soft?” Playa scoffed, feeling insulted. “I took over a whole damn city twice and killed heroes and villains alike!”

“Some people are just idiots,” Shaundi said with a shrug. “I mean, they thought shooting at a heroine was a good idea. Odds are they’ll be spending a few days in the slammer for that.”

“Hmm. Point,” Playa reluctantly nodded.

“So, was there anything else to discuss?” Johnny asked.

“Well, since everyone is here, I do have some information,” Playa said, wincing a little. “It’s about Julius.”

The “WHAT?!” that erupted from Johnny after learning the old boss of the Saints was still alive was heard echoing throughout the base that day, and out on the street nearby. And thus was born the urban legend about the ghost who shouted questions at people. But that’s a story for another day…

111 &&&&&& 111

“Dex!” Julius shouted, all but kicking the doors in front of him open.

“I’ll call you back,” Dex grunted in annoyance, hanging up a phone before turning to face Julius Little.

“What brings you here, Jules?” Dex inquired with a terse politeness, a flash of annoyance crossing his face as his former boss barged into his office. Why did his secretary let him in? He’d have to have a talk with her about letting randos into places they shouldn't be. And maybe the security guards in the Philips Building as well.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded angrily. “I thought the plan was to have his girlfriend quietly arrested! Why did it turn into a city-wide car chase?!”

“That was the plan! But I suppose we shouldn’t have expected much from the law enforcement in this place,” Dex grunted, just as frustrated by the failure, but for different reasons.

“Anyways, Julius, do you have what I asked you to get?” Dex asked.

“I don’t know why you want it in the first place,” Julius replied.

“Do.You. Have it?” Dex pressed.

“I do, I do,” Julius sighed, pulling out a tiny bottle from his pocket. When he put it onto the table, it rapidly grew into a much large container, complete with a human brain floating inside of a batch of amber preservation fluid.

“Well, damn,” Dex muttered, peering down at it.

“It wasn’t exactly hard, they were keeping it in storage at Stilwater U’s anatomy department,” Julius replied. “Surprised it was still intact, honestly.”

“You did a good job, Julius,” Dex said with a grin, reaching out for the jar, but Julius put a hand on it, stopping him.

“What do you want with this, Dex?” Julius asked. “How will this help us get rid of Playa’s control over the Saints?”

“Let’s just say that I know some guys who can make sure that all his broken dreams come true,” Dex replied. “And if I bring this to them, then soon, he will have no reason to keep being a Saint.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Dex,” Julius warned. “If I find out you did anything wrong…”

“Or what, you’ll hide a bomb in my office?” Dex scoffed. Julius scowled before spinning around and storming out of the room.

When he was gone, Dex smirked to himself and leaned back in his chair, before calling back the person he’d just been talking with.

“Sorry, had a pushy business partner to deal with. Anyways, good news! I’ve got your next shipment of ‘green energy waste’ ready to go. And, I also have that thing you wanted. How soon can you pick them both up?”

He listened to the response, nodding his head a bit. “Hmm. Glad to hear it. The ‘green energy waste’ and I will be at the usual spot. See you in a few days.”

Dex hung up, his mood restored. He couldn’t wait to see Playa’s face!

‘Don’t know why you’ve been snooping around me, but it will be the last thing you’ll ever do!’