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May-9-2012 18:06

The office door slammed against the wall with a bang, and papers swirled restlessly across the desks of the darkened room. He looked up from his bottle of gin, bleary eyes just registering the figure outlined in the doorway. It was tall, and from the cast of the hips and tucked in-waist silhouetted in the black trench, it was a woman. She stood on black stilettos, and a black snood concealed her hair from view as surely as the netted veil did her face.

"Who is that?" he asked nervously, squinting his eyes. There was a pause, and then the figure moved forward, legs, hips rolling smoothly in an unmistakable way. He paled; rearing back in the chair so that it almost fell. He righted it with a clatter, fingers shaking.

"A ghost?" he breathed, suddenly terrified. Was the moonshine bad? Giving him the jake- was he hallucinating? The black ensemble of the woman suddenly seemed more foreboding than chic. "You...I thought you were dead!"

She moved forward, just inches away from him in the dim lamplight. Slowly, black satin-clad hands lifted up, grasped the edge of the veil, and pulled it back. Her glossy red lips shone in a vulpine smirk in the light.

"I never die. Nine lives, you know." Molly Maltese breathed in her sotto voice. "I've been to the end of the world, my dear, and I've brought back the case to end all cases for you."

Jun-14-2012 08:25

Nightfall was settling by the time Zeo made a right turn and stopped beside the rundown Jazz bar where the rendez-vous was to take place. Zeo could feel his urge returning. This time it was more a mental hunger then a physical one, but not a drop less powerful. "You get off here Marc. See you tomorrow on the 'opposite' side, but rest assure I know what I'm doing."

"Oh no you don't!" Marc pulled Zeo out of the car and slammed him against the front door of the Jazz club, smashing it to pieces. He then demanded the obnoxious-looking bartender to tell him where Molly Maltese was staying. Feeling the fire in Marc's voice, the bartender cowered and pointed him to her room.

Marc dragged Zeo up the stair and banged on the door. Molly opened cautiously and let the two man in. Zeo immediately spotted Riza, who looked like she just swallowed a fly. Zeo wished he was invisible right then and there.

A knock from behind them broke the awkward pause. It was Vulkie. Marc quickly let her in and locked the door. Zeo decided to go all professional and avoid the issue with his state of deterioration. He avoided eye-contact with Riza at all costs.

"The artifact transfer is happening tomorrow at 4pm at the Museum office." Zeo announced to the air above him, "The Curator in charge is Carla Kane. There is some havoc happening at the museum right now so the deal, which originally was happening today, has been pushed back to tomorrow."

Regardless of all the question Zeo knew the ladies had about him, everyone were listening to his words carefully. "Molly you may be able to use this opportunity to pose as Carla, or any of you ladies can. From the sound of things I do not believe Jack Billings and Carla Kane has met. Billings is using the false name 'William Jackson' for this trade.'

"I will be going to the artifacts transfer with Billings--" Zeo stated. All three ladies casted a grim look as they heard this.

Jun-14-2012 08:57

"Which is the most foolish idea I've ever heard of!" Marc interrupted, "Joseph I'm saying this again, you'll be dead before--"

Zeo finally lost his temper. He pushed Marc all the way to the window and the panes flung wide open. Marc was hanging half way out, the only thing stopped him from falling was Zeo's firm grip on his shirt. With Zeo's present condition he knew he must make this threat a quick one. In no way did he wanted to lose or kill a true friend.

"Don't." Zeo's word was hard and final. "You have no idea what you're putting me through -- putting Riza through by dragging my ass up here!" Blood seared through Zeo's veins on his temple. The quiet words came out between his clenched teeth. "Do not tell them a single thing about my 'condition', you hear me? It'll ruin her!"

Zeo quickly pulled Marc back into the room before his arms give in. He then slipped the two packets into Marc's pocket. "Burn these for me." Zeo whispered in Marc's ears. He then looked into his old friend's eyes, "Trust me."

He then turned around and faced the ladies, still avoiding eye contact with Riza. "As I was saying, I will be going to the deal with Billings, to watch your backs." Zeo instinctively cast his gaze on Riza's belly. "The scum bag is as sly as gutter slim. I need to make sure he stays in his grave, this time."

Zeo swiftly dashed to the door. He did not allow time for any more protests or queries. He just hoped Marc will keep his secret for him. The dignity was too much to lose. Not until he win the battles, that is, both with Billings and the demon within.

The engine roared as Zeo escaped quickly from his friends. His urges lingered strongly, however, like the stench of a corpse that would not go away for days. He knew this night will be a difficult one, but at least he had ridden himself of the temptations. He decided to get some handcuffs for himself for the night. That might stop him from doing anything foolish.

Jun-14-2012 19:17

Late Wednesday Night:

Marc puffed on his pipe as he stared into the flames that licked the frigid air. The heat from the fire in the trash barrel hit his face. He could feel his skin turn red but he didn't back away from the fire.

His mind wandered from thought to thought; reflecting on the past few days. He thought of Riza. Riza Hawkeye. God, she was beautiful. But she was carrying Zeo's baby. Zeo. The thought of his name changed Marc's thoughts to Zeo. Joseph had gotten mixed up doing the wrong things with the wrong people. No one is perfect, Marc thought to himself.

Zeo was right. Marc didn't know what he was putting Joseph or Riza through by bringing the man into the room. Did Riza get mad? Probably. Or was she shocked? Marc doubted she actually expected Zeo to be forced into the room.

Marc remembered the opium Joseph had put in Marc's pocket. "Burn these for me," he whispered in Marc's ear. Marc reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bags. He dropped one in the fire and the flames rose and roared. The other bag, he still held in his hand which led his mind wander to the drugs.

Opium sold for quite a bit on the streets. Marc held well over a gram of opium. He could easily fifty or sixty dollars out of it. It was tempting to pocket the drug and sell it for a few easy dollars. Is it worth it? Marc asked himself this question. He had to force himself to answer that. No it wasn't. That would make him a hypocrite and he knew it. He forced Zeo to quit without weaning him off of the junk. Marc dropped the bag into the fire.

Jun-15-2012 19:30

The man in the tan leather jacket opened the door of the car, removed his hat and from the glove compartment he produced a small pair of binoculars, he was starving and desperately needed a coffee, but for that kind of work the first rule is to never drink coffee or alcohol, the suspect may flee at the first distraction.

Inside the car, he focused the binoculars to the windows of the bar, a dim light was all he could see, not a single shadow or movement. After a couple of minutes Joseph Zeo made his exit in a car, the man started the engine, and after a couple of seconds he turn it off.

He already had Zeo..., but the people in the bar, his client could be interested in them.

Jun-18-2012 21:34

* Thursday Morning *

Zeo woke with a start and wondered where he was. Slowly he came to his senses and realized he handcuffed his own left wrist to his bedpost in fear of what would happen if he didn't. He even threw the keys to the door where he could not reach. Great. What WAS he thinking lately?

The telephone had fallen off the bedside table; he wonder what else he knocked down last night while he was beyond himself. Zeo picked up the phone from the gap between the bed and the bedside table, and prayed that he hasn't broke it. He sighed with relief to find it still working. Holding the phone steady with his left elbow, Zeo dialed the number of the rundown Jazz club and asked the bartender to wake Mr. Marc Lacrimosa for him.

Jun-19-2012 14:47

"How in the hell are we supposed to pull this off?" Molly hissed as she swiped a frazzled tendril of auburn hair out of her face and checked her wrist-watch. "Okay, nevermind that. Look at me."

She tilted Rizas chin towards her and swiped some powder across her pale face. Pulling the heavy brown wig into place, she made some last-minute adjustments to her disguised friend and handed her a pair of thick spectacles. A muffled thump emanated from behind the back door of the closed office.

"Vulkie, get in there and shut her up." she hissed, referring to the real museum curator, who was currently bound and gagged on the floor behind the desk. She wished dearly that they could have pulled this off with more finesse but they were severely running out of time and Marc was nowhere to be found.

"Alright Riza, or should I say Carla- thats as good as its going to get. Play it cool. Hopefully Jack sends someone else in his place, and if not, well, he probably won't recognize you." Molly worried at her lip as she took her friend by the arm and led her into the large office that served as the Curators. She arranged her behind the desk and scattered a few files open before them.

"Pretend to be reading or taking notes or something. Vulkie and I will be in the next office over if things should get hairy." she tilted her head towards the connecting door to their right. With a mock salute, she disappeared through it, closing the door behind her. Vulkie met her eyes and they exchanged a long glance of mutual worry. Where was Marc? More importantly, was Zeo in good enough shape to be here himself, and to pull the gig off?

"Im going to have grey hairs after this." Molly said mournfully, plucking at her auburn tresses.

Jun-20-2012 08:34

* Thursday Noon *

"What took you so long?" Zeo asked impatiently from his bed. His left hand was growing numb.

"Molly needed my help, Joseph. It's not like we're going to a picnic this afternoon." Marc explained as he searched the floor for the key of the handcuffs. "We needed to know what Curator Carla Kane look like before we can disguise as her, and I've the best long ranged eye-sight."

Marc continued, but he failed to find the cuff key, "What does the key look like again?"

Zeo frowned, "Like all other handcuff keys..."

"Fine. By the way, set aside the hair color and eye-glasses, the sharp nose and tall figure left little doubt as to who should pose as Carla Kane..."

Riza.

Zeo's heart skipped a beat.

"I slipped away after I bought the disguise from the shop. They should be able to handle it from there... Where the HECK is that damned key? Joseph you really have to think twice before you do something stupid like--"

"--I know I know. Would you just find that key and shut up?" Zeo felt exasperated with himself, on everything. Mainly his inability to protect Riza more.

Marc cursed and pulled out his revolver. He shot at the handcuff at close range. The entire building shook, then the cuff attached to the bed post broke open with a crisp chime.

"Done." Marc grinned innocently.

Zeo stared at his hand, then at Marc, "Next time if you are planning to shoot next to my skin, please give me at least a warning." Marc shrugged and nodded nonchalantly.

"I think I should join Molly at the Museum now, although I don't see what we can do given Riza is the one dealing with Billings directly." Marc said.

"In that case, protect her from the dark." Zeo replied as he open his closet. Piles of old clothes fell out. Zeo looked deeper into the closet as if the mess did not exist. Finally he come out producing a Remington SR8 sniper rifle. Zeo looked intently at his friend, "I have 3 magazines of 5 shots each. Use it wisely."

Jun-20-2012 09:36

Marc whistled, "Glad you didn't sell this baby for a few cheap highs."

Zeo gave Marc an icy stare. "There's a mezzanine storage area right above the offices. That store room should give you the best view of what's going on below." Zeo then looked at his watch, "Shite! I must meet Billings now."

The two men left the rundown apartment swiftly and each took to their vehicle. Zeo drove next to Marc and said to him, "Protect Riza for me." Before Marc could reply, Zeo stepped on the gas pedal and hurried away.


*Thursday Afternoon*

"This is not like you, Mr. Zeo, look at the time!" Jack exclaimed behind his royal mahogany desk.

"In that case I suggest that we get on with it." Zeo noted over dozen men with Billings this day, most of them with arms thicker than his thighs. His thoughts drifted to Riza again.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" Billings inquired with sarcasm in his voice, "I'm so glad the deal got postponed a day, otherwise I wouldn't have noticed it in time either."

Zeo felt a chill down his spine. He just realized he did not take the Opium right away in front of Billings yesterday, and the shrewd man knew what was going on. How could he be so careless!?

Two brawny men twisted Zeo's arms behind him and shoved his head roughly onto the hardwood desk. "I know all about your rendez-vous last night with my darling wife and her friends. You're not the only dull-witted detective I have on my payroll." Jack Billings spoke in an undertone as he came closer to Zeo's ear, almost kissing it, "and I have something wonderful for you. It's called powerballing, or Speedball."

Immediately Zeo saw another man holding a syringe with different mixtures getting ready for injection. Zeo struggled in futility. "You have dabbled in morphine, that I know of, but THIS is something totally different." Jack Billings declared feverously.

Jun-20-2012 09:40

"Where is Mr. Zeo?" Jack demanded, straightening the lapels of his immaculate dove-grey suit. "Cyril, bring me the man. If any of his little friends try their shenanigans, I want them to see who is spearheading the effort."

Cyril, his new lackey, gave a grunt of assent and left the room. Jack waited until the door was closed to move to his desk. On it sat two identical wooden boxes. As he opened them, he gave a little smile to himself- for resting in the denizens of each were identical, gleaming ankhs encrusted with jewels. He lifted one up to the light, examining it with a shrewd eye before giving a nod of satisfaction and tucking it back into the velvet nest in the bottom of the box. He had had one of his connections experienced on the black market examine and recreate the Nine Lives artifact flawlessly, as well as draw up official documents and certificates of legality. They were absolutely perfect.

There was a commotion outside of the door and Jack hastily slid the box containing the real ankh into his drawer , locking it as Zeo entered looking disheveled as always.

"Zeo, my good man." Jack said imperiously, pulling two small bags of opiates out of his breast pocket. "You're accompanying me on the trade-off today. If you're a good boy, there's something in it for you." He sneered, but Zeo just looked at him blankly, devoid of expression.

Jun-20-2012 10:18

"The instant rush is so strong you'll never be able to be rid of the desire for it the rest of your pitiful life... if it doesn't kill you first. And do you know when you mix a depressant like morphine with a stimulant such as cocaine here, what effects do you get?" Billings sounded almost joyous, "Confusion, incoherence, stupor... You may even experience paranoid delusions and hallucinations."

Billings laughed to himself, "Wait until I release you onto my wife and her friends when they come meddling in my affairs today! I wonder who you WON'T recognize! No matter what she does, I have more tricks up my sleeves than she has of gowns. Cyril, go ahead with the injection." Billings nodded to the man holding the syringe.

One of the burly men unrolled Zeo's sleeve. Zeo tried to knock him with his elbow but he was simply not strong enough. As the needle pierced through his skin he felt the effort and hope in the last few days draining from him...