The O'Leary Family Mob (With changes)
Sleuth About Town
Who can join: Anyone (reading Reformed Burglars Never Rest would be nice)
Golden Rule: No 'moving' or speaking for someone else's characters unless you have previously talked about it.(That's basic netiquette)
Plus, I'd like (that's not a rule, though) that off topics would come marked in some of the following ways:
OFF - X, have you read my PM?
No need to ask to join, just post. The O'Learies are all NPC's, so anyone can 'move' or speak for them. Any doubts, feel free to pm me.
The rain poured on Marc as he stood outside next to a light pole. His trench coat was buttoned keeping his suit dry. Inside his coat, he carried his M1 Thompson Sub Machine Gun. A.K.A.; The Tommy Gun. The sling draped diagonally across his chest. He lit a cigarette and continued to stare at the building he was standing in front of.
"You're mine, O'Leary," Marc said to himself. He inhaled deeply and smoke filled his lungs. He exhaled and smoke mixed with carbon dioxide came from his mouth and disappeared into the air.
Marc unbuttoned his trench coat and grabbed the Tommy Gun and pulled the sling off his shoulder. he lowered the gun with one hand and he held his cigarette with the other. Marc made two steps toward the door and threw his cigarette into a puddle of water. Marc yanked the charging handle back on his gun and walked slowly up the stairs.
James O'Leary was about to be interrogated. And Marc loved interrogating people.
Tim O'Leary had skipped town because he knew Marc was going after him. O'Leary was head of the O'Leary Crime Family; an Irish mafia that ran the north side of town.
Marc quietly turned the handle of the door knob. There was no sound as the door opened. And Marc took a step inside the house.
“Don’t feel that you need to be runnin’ off now,” Jesse chided as lightly as he could manage, although he could understand her eagerness to leave. Discussing her buried past (“Provided it’s true,” he thought) would have left Elizabeth feeling uncomfortably exposed.
Not that he had any specific reason to doubt her. Thinking back to the sorry state he’d found her in earlier - soaking wet, pacing back and forth across the sitting room, muttering to herself - he genuinely felt guilty about having reservations. Experience, however, had taught Jesse that he possessed significant blind spots where damsels in distress were concerned. On a few occasions these blind spots had been large enough for unpleasant gentlemen wielding assorted pipes, knives, and guns to hide in. While fully aware that his cynicism was both artificial and defensive, he struggled momentarily to keep it from showing on his face.
Doubts about her past aside, it was clear that she was genuinely anxious about her present. Regardless of name or history, Jesse decided he had absodamnlutely no intention of leaving one of Obelisk’s agents to face danger alone.
“Listen,” he said, looking directly at Elizabeth - still poised on the thin line between staying and leaving, “You’ve obviously had a rough evening.” His features reflected nothing but sincerity now. “But don’t tell me you expect to come to harm or worse and in the same breath ask me to ignore it. I’m not put together that way. Few outsiders know it, but we have a few rooms set up as livin’ quarters over at HQ. Why don’t you stay there for tonight? We’ll look at your situation again under the light of day - see what we can’t do for you.”
The offer was attractive. Elizabeth realized she was quite tired, but she had been driven underground by O’Leary in the past, and wasn’t sure she could do it again. [see Reformed Burglars Never Rest]
“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Hunter. I’ll take it into consideration..."
The echo of the footsteps along with the noise of the rain outside gave the prison cell an additional erie chill. The guard leading the way seem affected by it too, and his shoulders seemed to freeze in place. He unlocked another gate and lead the bureau agent down another hallway, right to the maximum security cells.
The prison doors in this section were solid iron, save a little rectangular slot at eye level, which could only be opened from the outside. The agent fathomed a horror stricken shriek from behind one of the doors, but he ignored it. He must focus on the purpose of his visit.
"This is it, Agent Zeo." The guard announced, and opened last the cell at the end of the hall. The rusty squeak of the door made Zeo's teeth sour. The guard stood nervously as Zeo entered the dimly lit prison cell. A lightening suddenly flashed, calling attention to the window with the broken iron bars. Zeo sighed. Soft thunder roamed from a distance.
"He must have had outside help, I'm telling ya! How these crooks bypass our tight security was beyond me, but I'm telling ya, the warden is terribly pissed and we have all our men investigating the break." The slim guard pleaded.
"I'm not here to find out how he got away." Zeo's dark eye continued to scan the small prison cell. "I'm interested in one thing, and one thing only. How to get the bastard Tim O'Leary back in this hell hole."
Finally, he found the lead he was looking for, etched on the wall of the cell. An initial: C.D., with a huge X hexed across it. Constance Doyle, or currently known as Elizabeth March. She was the final nail on Tim's coffin, the one who testified against him and finally put the bastard behind bars. Tim O'Leary never leave any revenge unattended, and Zeo now knew exactly where Tim was be heading.
He had some old friends to visit.
"It's time. You can do this...you can do this..." Molly breathed, unfazed by her drenched state or the rain pouring down on her. She only had eyes for the ship that just now unloading.
She shivered, and it wasn't the rain. Because the instant the ramp dropped, she saw her, waiting by the rail, tiny hands wrapped around the metal. And when she saw her, Annabelle raised her tiny head and fixed Molly with such a look that pierced her through the core.
Not even waiting for the Sister that had accompanied her, the little girl sailed down the ramp in a bee-line for Molly. Reflexively, Molly dropped to her knees in the puddle around her and caught up her little girl, clutching her as tightly as she could.
"Mama." It wasn't a question, and Molly nodded, the soaked ends of their twin red hair twining together, as tears disguise as rain welled up in their eyes.
"Ah." Molly said, rising. "You must be tired and hungry from your journey. Let's go get a bite to eat, and find a place to get dry. I think there's a diner nearby that should be perfect."
They laced their pale fingers together and moved to cross the street and down the sidewalk. But Molly's shoulders were rigid, and her eyes swept through the dark curtain of rain uneasily, as her other hand wrapped around the handle of her gun. She knew there was no way to hide this for very long anymore, and soon she'd have to trust her friends with a task that would most likely result in her death, but if she played her cards right, her daughter would be spared.
Molly pushed open the door to a diner. She guided the miniature version of herself to the counter and whispered that she could have anything that she liked, then proceeded to pile their wet things on the stool next to them. In doing so, she glimpsed Elizabeth and Jesse sitting nearby, deep in conversation. She raised a thin eyebrow and looked away, giving the two their privacy.
"You have questions to answer." said her daughter suddenly in her soft, smoky voice.
Marc entered the house of James O'Leary. It was dark and warm inside. Pitch black. Marc didn't need any light. He could see perfect in the dark. After all, the darkness became is best friend in situations like this. He crept down the hallway and found the master bedroom.
The door squeaked as Marc slowly pushed open the door, and he could see James asleep in his bed. He couldn't see any spouse which was good for Marc, because he was about to give O'Leary the interrogation of a life time.
Marc looked to his left and was able to make out the figure of a chair at a desk. As he shut the door, Marc grabbed the chair and pushed it under the door knob, locking it in place. As soon as he made sure the door was locked, he sprang into action. He grabbed O'Leary and threw him against the wall,
"What the Hell?!" O'Leary screamed.
"Where is Tim?" Marc asked calmly.
"Who the hell are you?" O'Leary said, fumbling for a gun.
"Your worst nightmare," Marc said as he kicked James to the ground. "Tell me where Tim is." Marc said to him. He was using both sets of his vocal chords, making his voice deep and raspy. It was the perfect disguise.
"You wont' get anything from me!"
"Really now?" Marc pulled out his M1 Thompson and fired a three round burst of bullets next to James' head.
"What the hell are you trying to prove? Huh? You think shooting me will-"
Marc shot O'Leary once in the leg. James let out a yelp.
"This is just the beginning." Marc said as the threw James against the wall.
Sleuth About Town
Elizabeth was confused by Jesse's attitude. After all she had just told him, she'd sooner expect to be kicked out of the Obelisk than invited to stay there for her safety. Well, she had to take a second look at her judgement on people. At least those people.
“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Hunter. I’ll take it into consideration..."
She sat back as she spoke, and buried her face in her hands for a while.
After a few minutes of absolute silence, Elizabeth lowered her hands and nodded.
"Very well. I'll stay in there for the night. I just have to pick up something to wear - at a store, not home - and I'll be heading there."
With that, she finally left, looking considerably calmer.
After picking out just a few things she couldn't do without, looking around at each step, she headed for the Obelisk Headquarters.
Feeling safe in there, the woman looked for a room and got herself in to chance her wet clother for the dry ones she had just picked up. As she finished putting them to dry, she got startled by a sudden lightening.
"Oh, God!", she screamed, realising how nervous she was. After a deep breath, Elizabeth sat on the bed, looking at the door.
"Yeah, Tim. You got me hiding again."
She jumped to her feet as she heard the doorbell downstairs. Well, if Tim wanted to kill her, he wouldn't knock. It wasn't like him.
Getting a robe to cover her nightgown, she went to the door. Her voice was clearly trembling as she asked:
She felt silly asking that, but it could be one of the other agents who wasn't able to get in because of the chair she had slid to block the door.
"It's Joseph Zeo," the bureau agent replied. "Is that you, Elizabeth?"
Zeo heard the sound of moving furniture and wondered what was happening. He first went to Elizabeth's residence after seeing her name etched on the wall of Tim O'Leary's cell. It was a mess. Someone had broken the lock and searched the flat. Zeo worried that someone had taken Elizabeth, and hence ran to her agency, Obelisk, in hopes of finding help.
Upon hearing her voice inside, Zeo felt relieved. He waited in the rain for the door to open. He needed to tell Elizabeth what he had seen.
Sleuth About Town
A loud sigh could be heard on the other side of the door, along with the sound of furniture moving.
After pushing the heavy chair, Elizabeth took a deep breath and straightened her hair with her hands, taking a moment to try and look less terrified. After she managed to regain some of her composure, she opened the door.
Of course she knew it was Zeo, but seeing a friendly face in a situation like that messed with her mind a bit, and she welcomed the man with a tight hug.
It was just for a moment, though. She let him go and shook her wet robe.
"I'm sorry. Thanks for coming by, Zeo."
She moved to the other side of the room and filled a glass with brandy, handing it to the man.
"There, I don't want you to catch your death", she said, crossing her arms after her hands were free.
"What brings you here at this time? Or should I say - who?", she asked, her eyes staring into his, as if she knew his visit had something to do with O'Leary.
Zeo told Elizabeth what he saw, both at the jail cell and at her flat. Tim was definitely out for revenge, and this time, they know their whole family would be in it together. The fact that Tim broke out of jail made Elizabeth nervous, although she tried not to show it.
"It's late, and you need to rest," Zeo remarked, "I don't like it that you're here all by yourself. I am sure Jesse wouldn't mind that I borrow a couch space here." The man hung his wet coat on a chair and began setting himself in for the night. There was no argument with Zeo once he set his mind to it.
Tomorrow they will plan.
Sleuth About Town
Elizabeth took in what Zeo said, not letting a word escape from her lips as he spoke. Only after he finished, she nodded, with a sigh.
"That was just likely to happen. Tim won't rest until he either lays hands on me or gets back in jail", she said, almost calmly.
Elizabeth shook his head. She knew that aguing with Zeo was useless, so she went into one of the rooms and returned with a pillow and a blanket.
"Hard headed man", she muttered softly.
"Thanks for being here, anyway. Sleep tight".
With these final words, she went back into the room she was using for the night. After taking a look out the window, she locked it, took her robe off and laid on her back.
She kept looking up for a while, until her eyes finally closed for a night of deep sleep.
In the morning, she felt like another person. She took a shower, put on the dress she had bought, brushed her teeth and applied a little make up. She wouldn't stop taking care of herself because of O'Leary. Not again.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes to remember for a moment. Then, shook the memory away.
"You're better off without him, girl", she reminded herself, before going downstairs and getting busy preparing something for then to eat.
It was a good thing that she had learned how to split her mind in two, so half of it could worry about her life while the other one worked on more practical things, like buying breakfast groceries.
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