Pursuit of Justice (1x1 with Mitheral and Tamed

[Mitheral]

The sun was just rising to the east, struggling to push through the haze of the smog. Red and blue LED lights strobed to announce the presence of police, an ambulance and a coroner. Just before dawn a handful of students had discovered the body of a young student in the parking lot. She was a petite and quite beautiful blonde - had likely been a cheerleader in her high school years. She wore a black T shirt with the fluorescent logo of Innocent Blood, a local band, and jeans with intentional rips and tears, a style of kids these days, not the result of the attack.


Cause of death was readily apparent. Her throat had been ripped. What was missing was all the blood. The natural conclusion for that was - murdered elsewhere, then moved. But then why leave the body in the parking lot?


Detective Ryan Kelly scanned the scene slowly. This was a real mess to clean up. He already had the Chief on his back about closing this one up fast before the press made a national event out of it. His eyes stopped on a young CSI intern whom he had NOT asked for, trying to examine the corpse.


“Hey! Someone want to tell me why I have an INTERN at my murder scene? Get him back before he contaminates my canvass!” He lowered his voice. “Sorry Kevin, but you’re still just an intern. Observe, but stick to the lab for now. How are you holding up?”


“Fine.” Kevin Brady, a 23 year old prodigy, didn’t take well to being yelled at. But Ryan Kelly himself had put in a good word to get Kevin the internship. Det Kelly had been his father’s partner and now served as the legal guardian for his younger sister. So it was hard to get mad. So he turned to the senior CSI agent and started to try to tell the man what samples he wanted - only to find himself being ignored.


Kevin clenched his jaw and forced himself to breathe before he started to get angry.

 

[Tamed]

A sigh containing a mixture of different tones left Olivia's lips as she entered the area of the crime scene, her eyes drawn first to the flashing lights of the police vehicles and then to where the victim of an attack currently lay in the middle of the parking lot. It was one of the more gruesome sights she'd come across, considering the girl's throat had been lacerated and ripped, although she took note of the fact that there didn't appear to be any gore or shedded blood that usually coincided with a murder. Her head cocked to the side and she bit the inside of her cheek — a habit that normally made itself known when she was observing something — as she walked up beside Detective Kelly. "The parking lot is an interesting choice to move a corpse," she said monotonously, shaking her head. It was often hard to tell whether she was being sarcastic or serious.


Her eyes glanced sideways at a young man, probably around her age, that seemed to be supressing some sort of annoyance. She raised an eyebrow but made no comment, shifting her vision back to the blonde that was sprawled out on the ground. Althought she hadn't been working for some grand amount of time, Olivia was already becoming desentizised to sites like this; it wasn't the first dead body she'd seen on the job. There was something depressing about that — not being shocked or disgusted at a killing. However, she'd almost come to expect sites like the one before her. After all, crime tended to be quite commonplace in the city.

 

[Mitheral]

With people gathering, some trying to snap pictures with smart phones the parking lot was really more of a stage. Kevin Brady grimaced. He already knew more about the cause of death and the killer’s signature than the senior CSI tech would learn from lab testing. And it aggravated him that Det Kelly didn’t seem interested in feedback.


Kevin had been lost in thought until the new detective arrived. It had taken his less than a second to search his memory the 5 digit number of the badge and identify it as Detective Olivia Beth Morgan. Her arrival jarred him back to his senses as his eyes locked onto her form - somewhat unprofessional if he had continued. It had been a gut reaction. And he could tell that every man on the scene probably thought much the same way.


Detective Morgan stuck a hand out gesturing at the victim, then waved at the students. “Might have been meant as a forensic countermeasure. With all these students hanging around it is a miracle the scene isn’t completely compromised. Given how she was dressed, I’d say she was making a target out of herself.” Kelly was a male chauvinist. That much obvious even before Olivia got there. But that was something every lady on the force dealt with.


Kevin tried not to let the growl in his voice show. “She was dropped off here as a message.”


“Brady!” Kelly’s voice sharpened.


“It’s pretty obvious. Everyone sees that. Right?” He looked at the senior CSI tech. “And the bite is fake - not an animal attack. Someone made a tool - probably artificial dentures with fangs designed to bite.”


“Brady!!” Kelly was angry now. He did NOT like being ignored. His jaw clenched and his teeth ground almost audibly. “Fine - I’ll bite.” He winced as he caught his own pun too late. “--So to speak - no disrespect to the deceased intended. Why do you say a message?”


Brady’s face was neutral. “Because the band, Innocent Blood, is composed of teachers at the University here. At least one is a music instructor - the pianist if I recall- and works in the Music Department --” he jerked a thumb at the university building next to them -- “right there. I doubt that is a coincidence. And …” he walked over and picked up a UV lamp and turned it on the woman’s wrist. A concert stamp was immediately visible. “There was a concert last night.” He pointed at the music building. “I’ve seen their fliers.”

 

[Tamed]

Olivia's gaze slid across the crowd that had gathered around the scene, and a thought caused her face to twist in faint wry amusement. Frankly speaking, it was really quite morbid that there were people who wanted such a macabre image on their smartphones. Unless it was someone from a branch of crime scene investigation — which they weren't of course, because they were students, and even if they were the picture would be take by a specialized forensics photographer — there was really no need to capture the visual on a camera. He/she would probably be using it for nothing more than to show their friends or family what — or more accurately who —had been found on campus this morning.


She folded her arms across her chest as she glimpsed over at the man she had seen huffing in aggravation earlier, and she subsequently raised a brow as she caught him looking at her. Olivia's attention then transitioned over to Detective Kelly as he began talking. Her expression remained neutral as he mentioned how it was a wonder the crime scene hadn't been spoiled with all the people sniffing around (she agreed with that part), but as he started saying how the victim's choice of attire was a factor in her death — nearly saying that she asked for it — her face melted into one of clear annoyance. Her jaw clenched and let out a heavy but silent exhale; she shook her head minutely and would have rolled her eyes had she not been on duty.


Her eyes flitted back over to the young man — who she now knew by his surname of Brady, thanks to Detective Kelly hissing it out in a biting tone — as he spoke about the killer's message in a flat voice. She cocked her head to the side, curious and vaguely interested in what he had to say. At the mention of a fake bite, she turned her head away and focused on the throat of the corpse. From where she was standing, his analysis did make sense, and since Kelly didn't seem willing to listen to what he had to say, she decided to voice her agreement. "He's right," she said uniformly, "the bite is too clean — if you can even describe it that way — to be an animal. If it had been done by one, the tears would have been more scabrous and serrated then they are." She also watched as Detective Kelly's expression turned from vexation to anger toward Brady, where he accidently made an inappropriate pun of the situation which she grimaced at.


As Brady explained why he thought the victim being moved was a message, Olivia — although she would never admit anything of the sort out loud — was impressed with his deduction skills. This showed in her eyes but not on her face, as her expression was kept passive.

 

[Mitheral]

Kevin Brady spoke up again. “Whatever the bite was made by, I should be able to pick up some DNA if it was done by any member of the animal kingdom. That’s the evidence that will seal this case.”


Kelly nodded. “And if there’s no DNA evidence?”


Kevin Brady’s face was unreadable. “Then there will be residue from the murder weapon. It would be pretty unusual for a murder weapon. I spotted other evidence. The vic was bound - by zip tie I think. I saw no defensive wounds. However I found signs the vic fell - maybe drugged or tasered. I won’t know which without a better look. I can’t do that out here in public.” Brady paused there. “I think I am right about the mechanical jaws. In the absence of defensive wounds it makes more sense.”


“Follow the evidence,” Kelly said. “What we do know is that the vic didn’t struggle while they were being bitten. Were they already dead?”


Brady shook his head. “I don’t think so. If anything, I think they may have been hung upside down to facilitate the draining of the body.” He moved over to the woman’s feet and raised the pants leg a little to reveal marks on her skin from where she had been hung. “Saw this in a Sherlock Holmes episode. Murderer went around hanging his victims on a tripod to see how fast he could drain the blood.”


“So why simulate an animal attack - or vampire?” Kelly looked at Olivia sharply. “Sorry, but it looks like that sort of thing. But then we all know there’s no such things. Apparently someone wants us to think otherwise - or thinks they are one.”


Brady was a gifted kid. But he had yet to learn to accept that the world often looked at gifts with jealousy and fear. The Sr CSI Tech was probably now living in fear of losing his job to some punk kid.


“Kevin, I need you to work some of that CSI magic and tell us who killed this girl and where. and why. If I am right, there will be another body soon, probably after the next concert.”


Brady looked slightly offended. “It isn’t magic. Who, where AND why? Just give ME the detective badge why don’t ya?”


Kelly just grinned, then looked serious again. “Let me know what you find on the fingernail scrapings and the cast. I hesitate to mention them until you’ve finished casting your incantations and doing all that alchemy.”


Brady realized Kelly was trying to push buttons now and didn’t give the man the satisfaction of taking the bait. He gave the to detectives a token attention, concentrating on his study of the body. He appreciated the fact that the pair were taking a real interest in his efforts - if not in the science, in the results. He was already certain there was a lack of saliva in the bite. He was also certain that no human had used their mouth. Whatever had been used it had the shape a a vampire’s fangs. But like Kelly had said, follow the evidence.


As much as he wanted to run a zillion tests right there on sight, they needed to remove the body. He had the other lab techs take samples of the pavement and marks them with a grid encoding. He’d compare that later to tests on the victim’s feet and hands. He was also curious why Kelly seemed to expect DNA under the victim’s fingernails if there were no defensive wounds. Then it hit him. The perp might have forcibly scraped another corpse to confuse the evidence - or even plant evidence from a living person.


So DNA evidence might prove inadmissible in court in the end. Why? Why try to make it look like a vampire? And why here? One theory he held was that Innocent Blood’s portrayal of the macabre genre of vampirism might be feeding a fantasy that they were, in fact, vampires and needed to be exposed as such.


++++++++++++++

Annabelle Kramer watched the detectives from the edge of the crowd. The fact of what the girl now being prepared for transport to a morgue was wearing was not lost on her. Neither was the body language as Kelly turned his attention to the Theatrical Arts building. Then Detective Morgan did the same. Inwardly she groaned at the inevitable fact that the next person they would want to talk to would be herself. So much for turning in and getting some sleep.


Rather than avoid the detectives, she placed herself right in their paths and waited. As they approached she held out a business card for the group. “I believe you are about to go looking for me. Annabelle Kramer, manager for the band Innocent Blood. I thought I would save you the trouble. If you like we can take this to my office. This way if you please.” She gestured toward the Theatrical Arts building.


She carried herself with a sophisticated air and a casual attitude, like a woman who had been born with a platinum spoon in her mouth. “I suppose it is a good thing we don’t do shows on school nights. This being a Saturday there are fewer students to gawk at the murder scene. I assume it is murder. Someone described the girl as having her throat ripped out by an animal. And that is very hard to do to oneself. Hmm?”


Her office was rather small and cramped. But the decor was unusual, including an authentic grammophon. Already set to play the Liszt Etude,





The bookshelves were lined with a mix of Classical, Jazz, and music of the Roaring 20’s. These seemed to be her favorites. She had two desks. One was for doing the usual teaching duties. The other had a keyboard that was plugged into a computer and likely used for composing.
She gestured to a couple of chairs for the detectives and took a seat behind her desk. “Now then, is it going to be the usual Good cop, Bad cop routine? Or do you just want to ask me questions?” She didn’t seem to be the slightest bit nervous.

 

[Tamed]

Olivia looked between Brady and Kelly as they shot back and forth statements at each other. She found herself with a seed of jelousy toward Brady, as he was definitely talented, but she remained neutral so she didn't show it. It was a talent she had, if it could even be called that — maintaining a passive expression when she wanted to and an emotive one when the situation called for it (which wasn't now, of course). As the group headed toward the a Theatrical Arts building, they found a woman standing directly in their path, waiting for them. She introduced herself as Anabelle Kramer, manager of the band Innocent Blood, as she held out a business card which Olivia took. The manager then offered to take them to her office and led them there with an air of sophistication that Olivia saw fragments of in herself. As they entered the office, she looked around, observing the decor.


"I think just asking questions will suffice, " Olivia said smoothly, watching Annabelle as they all seated themselves on some chairs near the woman's desk. "I assume that you were present at the concert yesterday, as you are the band's manager. Did you see anything suspicious? It may seem a little clichè or an overused thing to ask, but it's always a starter question. Not necessarily one that always has a distinct answer, but a good point to begin nonetheless." Her fingers were interlocked and resting on her lap, and she sat in a professional posture with her back almost perfectly straight. She then continued on and added more questions to the mix: "Do you happen to know how many people were present last night? The size of crowd will have affected the attacker's process differently, as a larger one could have allowed him/her to a) remove the girl from the audience or b) perhaps catch her alone since everyone else would have been rather distracted by the music. However if it was a smaller one, there is a chance that someone saw what was happening, in the case the attacker led the victim away from the stage." At this point it seemed that she'd begun to think out loud, so she paused and waited for Annabelle's responses.

 

[Mitheral]

Annabelle shook her head. “Other than the usual concert stuff, sorry. To be very honest I tend to be a little focused on my piano when I play. My friends are in the band and gang more for the fun - as a hobby. I am the serious musician.” She caught the subtle change in expressions at one of the words she had used. “Biker gang. Most of the band members ride. But it is strictly for fun. As to how many people there were - I’d guess we were close to capacity. We use Terminal 5 which has a capacity of 3000. The band’s bodyguard might have a better idea.”


Annabelle paused. “I’ll save you a little trouble. Your questions are eventually going to get around to: ‘Do I know anyone that might want to do something like this?’ The answer is sort of a no. I don’t KNOW anyone. But this isn’t the first time I may have been targeted. I also own a nightclub - one of those posh 1920’s styled speakeasy sorts. It is currently undergoing renovations from an arson. You see, there are nutcases out there who think we are real vampires - especially me for some reason. Supposedly I look a lot like my grandmother.


“I hope you people find whoever did this - before I end up with a stake through my heart. And I really don’t want to break up the band.”


Annabelle had been studying the detectives while they interrogated her. Normally she hated situations like this. But Detective Olivia Morgan was someone she found a powerful interest in. Her senses were raised to a level of high alert - almost hypercognitive as she noted the young woman’s every gesture, reaction to stimuli. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was looking at a younger version of herself - albeit with a better outlook on life. She had actually hoped Olivia would play the Good Cop, Bad Cop routine. She enjoyed messing with cops that tried that. But instead the woman had been all polite.


Det Kelly decided he wanted to speak with the bodyguard - as well as other band members and any groupies. But it sounded very much to him as though the band had no clue about who killed the victim.


As it turned out the hunters were way ahead of them. And they had had a plan for this already. On the way back to the car a ‘student’ walked right up to them. Even Olivia and Kevin spotted the fact that this probably wasn’t a student, but a paid messenger. The young man bumped into Olivia and dumped the burner in her jacket pocket with a professional skill and vanished into the crowd.


They were being watched.


When she finally answered the phone a man’s bass voice spoke. “Hello Detective. You want to know how about the monster responsible for the woman’s death? My apologies for doing things like this, but in my profession I have developed an aversion to law enforcement. Taped to the inside of the phone case is a key and a short note. That note is the address of an apartment mailbox. Naturally that is the key. Inside the mailbox is information pertinent to your case. Ms. Kramer isn’t who she pretends to be. She is a monster. You also need to lose the rookie.”


The apartment building wasn’t all that far away. And as hard as Olivia tried she couldn’t spot a tail. There was no trouble in following the lead. Clearly the killer was playing a game and wanted to offer clues.


Inside a manilla envelope were a number of articles from the 1920’s. The first was an article about a scandal involving a flapper, the daughter of an industrialist named Alexander Kramer. The flapper’s name was …. Annabelle. There was an old black and white image, grainy of course. But it most definitely looked like Ms Kramer. There was another article. This one was about the disappearance of Annabelle and a citywide search underway. There was another article about the disappearance of Mr Kramer as well, dated shortly after Annabelle’s disappearance. There were no articles about either being found.


The other articles were unrelated. One was a photo dated 1952 of Annabelle in front of a biker diner somewhere in Louisiana - hardly recognizable - but not having aged a day. The photo wasn’t so grainy. It looked very much like Annabelle. The next photo was dated 1987 at the Gatsby club with a young man in his late teens. Then there was an article about the young man and a girlfriend who had vanished. There were yearbook pictures of both. The girl’s picture was signed Watts. There was a picture of the his girlfriend in 2013 at an Innocent Blood concert. The girl was the lead drummer - Watts. She hadn’t aged a day.


The next set of articles were about a man. There were pictures of him going all the way back to the 1950’s The difference was he had aged a little. He had served in the Korean and Vietnam wars, as well as other military actions under various names,


About this time the burner phone rang again. When Olivia answered the voice on the other end spoke. “Are we learning anything yet?”


“I wanted to open your eyes to the world of darkness that surrounds you. These creatures are more than just murders. They are monsters not meant for this Earth. It is incumbent upon you to find a way to reveal these monsters for what they are. But I must caution you. Your proof must be incontrovertible. These creatures hold many members of law enforcement and even the government in thrall. Both your new boss and the Chief are under their thrall.


“You should know that if they suspect you are getting close to the truth, you too will vanish. There are ways to detect them. They fear fire. They avoid sunlight. However tests such as mirrors and holy crosses are a waste of time.”


Whoever this guy was, he was a nutcase. They had spoken with Annabelle with the morning sun having risen. She hadn’t burst into smoke and flames. There had been no fangs.

 

[Tamed]

"Well, I suppose it was worth a shot," Olivia said in a level tone, "although I really wasn't expecting you to be able to pull that information of the top of your head, especially since you were, as you said, focused on your playing." She gave Annabelle a nod of acknowledgement. However, her eyes flitted quickly up to the woman's face at the mention of a gang but returned to normal after it was explained that she meant one of bikers. She made sure to focus her undivided attention on what the manager was saying in case she would need to remember the contents of this conversation at a later date.


Olivia's expression remained unchanged as Annabelle answered the unspoken question of whether or not she knew anyone that would want to something like what happened to the victim. Her head tilted slightly as she bit the inside of her cheek, listening to Ms. Kramer as she went on to say that she may have been targeted previously. This woman seemed to have her hands full: she was part of a band and a biker gang as well as maintaining the business of running a bar. The fact that people thought Annabelle was a vampire was a rather interesting concept to Olivia. She remained silent before thanking the woman for her time. "We'll work on solving this case, Ms Kramer. We appreciate you sparing the time to talk with us and answer our questions. Take care."


She too thought it would be in their best interest to check with the band's bodyguard and with the band themselves; there was no sure sign that they would have any useful information to impart, but it was always important to check with everyone that could know anything about what happened. You never know how crucial even the smallest fact could be.


On the way back to the car, a young man caught her eye for no other reason than that he was heading straight in their direction. He definitely was not a student; he looked a little too old and perhaps to agile to be one. The only other option was that he was hired by someone else who didn't want to do his/her own dirty work. What happened next was something she somewhat expected; the messenger bumped into her — she sturdied herself by stepping backward — and dropped a burner phone into her jacket pocket. Her eyes trailed him as he dissapeared into the crowd. He was now clearly a paid professional; the swiftness and skill that would have been needed to do what he just did was certainly not attainable by a person still in school.


"It appears we're being watched," Olivia said coolly. She didn't bother to scan the area for a possible culprit because she knew she would find nothing; someone who tried this hard to reach her would not be sought out so easily. She purposely let the phone ring several times in her pocket before pulling it out, answering the call, and putting it up to her ear. Her eyes flicked around as she listened studiously to what was being said by the man on the other end of the line. She did a good job of remaining completely impassive as she concentrated on the stranger's words, and at the mention of ‘losing the rookie’ glanced at Kevin out of her peripheral vision. "I wouldn't assume you were buddy-buddy will the law in the way you decided to contact me," she said stonily in response before the call went dead.


She flipped the phone over and removed the case, and just as the man had said, there was a key and a small slip of paper taped to the inside. The stranger was clearly playing games, and she was unamused. Reading the address off the note, she saw that it was closer than she expected; she then peeled the key off of the backing and pocketed it. Figuring that a proper detective would share this information she turned to Kevin and Detective Kelly and did just that — give or take a few pieces. "It was a man on the other end, said his profession developed him an aversion to law enforcement. He taped a key and an address to an apartment building on the inside of the phone case claiming that there will be pertinent information inside the mailbox, and that Ms Kramer isn't who she says she is."


Olivia then began analyzing the articles that had been placed inside the manilla envelope. All of them were from the 1920's, and she could see even before reading them thoroughly that they all revolved around the same topic. The first was of a scandal involving a flapper named Annabelle Kramer. Coincidence? She wasn't sure; the image did bear resemblance to the woman she had just talked to. She then continued on to the second and third articles which detailed the disappearances of both Annabelle and Mr. Kramer; neither were said to be found. Olivia let out a silent exhale as she moved on to the other papers all of which appeared to be unrelated to the first three. They were dated over thirty years later and paired with a bunch of photos, one of a woman that was clearly Annabelle, others about two missing people — a young man and his girlfriend — and the girlfriend appearing as a Innocent Blood's lead drummer in a 2013 concert. Olivia could now see how the man on the phone would think that Ms Kramer is not who she pretends to be, however evidence could not be based off of one thing alone. Then there were several articles of a seperate man who had the same appearance of not aging at all.


With the knowledge that she was being watched, she was not surprised when the burner rang again once she was finished reading. Once more she listened to the man who this time spoke of the people around her and of what she could deduce to be the weaknesses of vampires. Clenching her jaw, Olivia spoke icily into the phone, "I can see that you're playing games; I'll have you know that I don't like games."

 

[Mitheral]

Olivia’s informant never responded. He simply hung up with an indication that he would be in touch later when she was ready to listen. Most of the rest of the day was filled with interviews of ‘suspects’ - the Innocent Blood band members - who were understandably cranky given their lack of sleep. They had, after all, done a concert the previous night. But they mainly taught night courses or did seminars. The band members and staff included:


+++++++


Dr Maia Ixchel - PhD in Hematology. Teaches night classes in the medical department. Vocalist. She appeared to be of true Mayan descent and gave seminars on the mayans.


Anabelle Kramer - Teaches in the music department. Owns and operates a high class 1920’s style nightclub. Still closed for remodelling after the place was victimized by arson. She is also known as a talent scout for young musicians. Her role in the band is as the pianist.


Isabelle McArthur - Lead guitarist and vocalist. Celtic origins. Teaches European history, expecially the Dark Ages and World War Nazi Germany.


Kaori Knossos - An amazonish blonde of Greek origins. Plays a harp and flute. She teaches Ancient Greek history and literature.


Samantha Carlson - Violinist and guitarist. British origins. Teaches history of British Empire. Dresses like one of those feminist survivalists.


Nyctasia El-Badari - Smallish woman of Egyptian origins. Doesn’t play an instrument. Possibly a groupie? Then again, she seems rather too sophisticated for that. She teaches Ancient Egyptian history as well as pre-dynastic.


Anya Smith - Not her real name, but she doesn’t know it. Very obvious gypsy descent. Orphaned very young. She is the band’s techie, sound mixer, etc. She does play a keyboard, but has yet to start playing with the band. Does NOT seem to enjoy being questioned. Responds to every question with a question - often the one that was asked of her.


Rick Travers: Band’s security manager (and the man in the picture. Samantha listed above is the girl). If the data in the manila folder is correct he has had numerous ID’s, held security clearances, fought in multiple wars receiving Purple Hearts, Bronze Stars, and many other awards. He’s a trained sniper and would easily have the skills to pull off the murder.


Nicknames only used here as noone ever uses their real names (but they have very detailed, if classified records)


Ace - Combat Pilot (specializes in using a help), owns TWO decommissioned Sikorsky Blackhawks (ie weapons removed). One is painted up for the band to look really cool, but has yet to enter service. He has applied to get weapons restored - retooled to launch fireworks.


Joker - (Sarah) former Special Forces, former homicide detective that went into the private sector after her family was killed. Re-married to Ace. They have semi-adopted Anya.


++++++++


It was pretty clear after just pulling up records on this group that they were very unusual. They seemed to answer questions honestly enough without resistance - with a few exceptions. They had clearly been coached to expect to be considered as suspects until cleared - and to just deal with it. But it was also pretty clear they had a lot of secrets they didn’t care to share. The all had alibis that that seemed very certain would stand up to scrutiny - mostly involving either the band or their jobs.


Anya was probably the biggest headache. Kelly ran into a brick wall with her. She was outright hostile and suggested that they ought to swap seats. Then she went and started playing with her smartphone and ignored him. Olivia she was completely the opposite with, but guarded. She got one glance at Kevin and asked if HE could interrogate her, grinning broadly. Then she got all conspiratorial and asked Olivia if she had hit on the guy yet.


They didn’t put up with the interrogations for long before asking to either be charged or released as they all needed sleep. A few of them gave Olivia their cards asking her to call anytime - once they had had some sleep - and mentioning that they were night people.


By the afternoon it was all moot anyways. The FBI had swooped in to take over the case - largely because of the signature nature of the murder. By this time Brady had confirmed his suspicions that the bite was not made by real teeth. Kelly didn’t seem to mind. His department was really an Organized Crimes division. Tracking serial killers wasn’t really his thing. And even he had to admit the feds had far better resources for this sort of thing. He did, at least, make an official welcome to Olivia to the squad.


+++++++++++


Kevin hadn’t liked the fact that Olivia had been singled out like that. His first suspicion was that Olivia had been targeted by the killer. If the first death didn’t meet his objective, the brutal slaying of a detective almost certainly would. He tried to think of a good reason to tag along with her everywhere, but couldn’t think of one. So instead once the feds had taken over he headed out and prepared to tail her.


Nothing happened though. She got home safe. She got no more phone calls. The killer was being patient. That fit his profile. He had been meticulous enough to drain blood and deposit a victim unseen on a major university campus. He was very capable of planning and self control. He was going to be very dangerous.


As much as Kevin hated to be a stalker he decided he had to at least try to keep an eye on Olivia. So he planted several remote cameras at discrete distances whose feeds he could check online. He couldn’t plant any inside her apartment. But he could at least try to watch any access points. He could also try to track her cell - if she didn’t turn off tracking. That was something he could handle up to a point. He planted a tracking device on her car - way up inside in a place that would require a thorough search.


And that was when he found the other bug. He studied the bug long enough to figure out its frequencies, then left it where it was. If the killer was the one who had placed it, then it seemed best not to interfere. If the feds had placed it, he didn’t want to interfere with an investigation.


And that was when it hit him that he might have missed a tail. He removed his bug and rolled out from under her car. That was when he saw the feds moving in.


Crap. That was all he could think. The Effing Bureau of Idiots. Okay, in their defense they were doing exactly as he would have done. It must have dawned on their profilers that the killer might target Olivia.


As they moved in fast Kevin cursed to himself. They were shouting for him to stop. He went in a direction they didn’t expect so fast they lost him in less than a second. He looked back from the rooftop and grimaced, disappearing from view before they could figure out where he had gone. In minutes he was miles away to change back into his civilian attire.


Shortly after that Olivia found herself being rousted and informed that she had a stalker. The description matched the rumored one of Dark Knight. And naturally the Feds wanted to place her in protective custody.

 

[Tamed]

Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep inhale before exhaling that same breath. She shook her head almost imperceptibly as she glanced down at the burner phone that rested in her hand; her grip on it was tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She wasn't naïve; she could infer that this probably wouldn't be the last she heard from her informant. What he wanted out of her, she didn't know yet, but she had a distinct feeling that she was going to find out sooner or later.


She spent the majority of what remained of her day interviewing the band members as possible suspects in the murder. They all struck Olivia as unusual, for example Dr. Maia Ixchel — she was of Mayan origin, had a PhD in hematology, and taught classes in the medical department, and her surname (coincidentally or not) was the title of an ancient Mayan goddess of medicine. They all had a strangeness to them, however nothing glaring enough to be called out on. The questioning went as smoothly as an interrogation could go for the exception of Anya; she was surely a... ‘tough cookie’ as they say. She was flat-out antagonistic with Detective Kelly, but she opened up slightly with Olivia which she appreciated. She chose to ignore the comments Anya had about Kevin. After they got all they could out of the band, she accepted the cards that were handed to her with a nod. Subsequent to that, she wasn't too surprised when the FBI took over this particular investigation, and it was at this point that Kelly formally welcomed her to the squad. She thought this was a tad late to do so, but she just brushed it off.


Olivia went home after this. As she went about her business, she couldn't help her eyes flicking over to the burner phone every once in a while.


A ruckus of shouts and other noises from outside caused her to get up and slink toward the door, where she pulled a curtain aside to see what was going on. She watched as the Feds moved in, yelling at someone to stop doing something — she chose this moment to exit her home and head toward the FBI agents to see first what they were yelling at, and second to get an explanation of what was happening. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary happening around her, so she figured she must have missed it. She found herself being rousted and was told that she was being stalked, which made her more exasperated than she already was. First there was the mysterious stranger that had targeted her specifically; as much as she kept herself appearing neutral, she was upon edge about this as anyone else would be. And now, on top of that, Olivia apparently had a stalker. She wasn't sure if the two were connected. She did, however, decline the offer to be out in protective custody. Her two options were to sit around all day until the investigation was over or continue doing her job while having a tail and perhaps some other protective measures — considering she would just about go mad not being able to do anything, she went with the second option.


What a great way to start out her job.

 

[Mitheral]

(And now for a change of pace…)


The next day went by relatively uneventfully - mostly tedium of chasing down leads on gang violence and illegal weapons. She had been assigned to a more senior detective named Raymond Foley. The guy was about as dull as they came. Oh he was smart enough as a detective. But he lacked for a personality. And he had seen enough years that he race profiled more than he realized. One of the first things he asked - and he made it a point to say that he wasn’t making insinuations - was why Olivia hadn’t applied to work Vice. It wasn’t the first time she had been asked and wouldn’t be the last.


Her mentor, Mary Donnelly, had warned her to to expect such questions for most of her career. Donnelley had been a tough as nails cop who had risen through the ranks, starting on the streets like her own father. She had even been looked at for the position of Police Commissioner. It was Olivia’s connection to the woman that had probably led to her getting her shield so early. But Mary herself had told Olivia that the bad had been earned and never to think otherwise. She had, however, suggested that Olivia keep an eye on Kevin Brady. She explained the questionable nature of the death of Kevin’s father - suspected of being on the take when he died. It wasn’t that Mary suspected Kevin could be guilty. But trouble would likely follow him. And Mary indicated she had known Kevin’s father - that she had thought the man had character. Her gut said the man had somehow been innocent.


Kevin, for his part, had been kept busy in the labs for the better part of the day. But as soon as his day was over, he headed home to get ready for the evening. Olivia had been invited out by the squad to the local pub. She had been all but coerced into playing the social game. But being under an FBI watch wasn’t enough to make her relax her guard. There had been no new calls. Neither had the FBI announced any headway in their investigation.


Evening


Olivia was on her way home when her radio began to squawk about a federal agent down and another three needing help, being pinned down by gun play. The area they had gone into was under the control of a gang that had a rep for being heavily armed. They must have run afoul of the gang - who probably thought the feds cared about whatever deal they had interrupted.


She had been so close that she arrived before even the black and whites or ambulances that would be there shortly. And as she arrived her front windshield exploded into glass fragments. She had caught the muzzle flash of a rifle on top of a building partly by chance, partly by simply having keen eyesight. A second shot took out her front left tire and she found herself fighting the steering wheel. The sniper was too far away to take out with a pistol, so all she was left with was trying to stay alive.


Kevin had been perched on the I-beam framework of a new high rise nearly a mile away when his eyes caught the muzzle flashes and heard gun play. He stretched out his cape and launched himself into a glide, picking up speed to free fall velocity (120 mph) quickly, then pulling up to make distance. As he approached he spotted a car - Olivia’s (he recognized the tags) - being shot up. He decelerated as hard as he could at the last moment and dropped in on the front of her hood, his cape billowing out.


The body armor of this costumed nutcase resembled Batman - though not as bat-like. Olivia saw no signs of the rope or wire he had swung in on. Had he jumped? He had the car hard enough to leave dents and rock the vehicle. Then she saw his cape react to being shot. It wasn’t some thin satin like material, but heavy, like the blankets used by bomb disposal techs. It was a ballistic cloth.


Kevin’s voice was unrecognizable through his voice scrambler. It sounded deep and menacing. “Move. I’ll cover you.”

 

[Tamed]

(Sounds fun.)


Compared to the events of the previous day, the next went by in a rather humdrum fashion; Olivia hadn't received any calls reflecting another murder (which she supposed was a good thing) and instead spent her work hours dealing with leads on gangs and illicit weaponry. The detective she had been assigned to work with — an older man by the name of Raymond Foley — was a rather standard guy and had the same personality as some other people she had worked with prior. She chose to ignore his question about why she hadn't applied to work vice, and found the fact he had emphasized that he wasn't suggesting anything by asking slightly ludicrous; it was a similar situation to a person saying ‘no offense’ before making an insulting statement — the recipient of the comment is still going to take offense, just like it was quite obvious that he had been discreetly and/or indirectly hinting at something.


Her mentor, Mary Donnelly, who me she greatly admired, told her what she already knew: she'd be questioned on similar things through the duration of her career. The woman had then went on to talk about the death of Kevin Brady's father and how she should keep an eye on the young man; this reminded her of yesterday's phone call and how the stranger had told her to ‘lose the rookie.’ She kept this in the back of her mind, however didn't presently make a big deal of it. Olivia, based on her first impression of Kevin, had seen him as an extremely talented detective; she supposed she'd just have to see whether or not that opinion changes.


She'd been persuaded to go to the pub with the squad later that evening; had it been under any normal circumstance, she may have declined the offer, but she had decided to go. Afterward, she'd thought she would be able to just go home and finish off another day without anything to worry about — other than the already apparent issues of having a possible stalker — but nonetheless she couldn't say she was surprised when her radio began going crazy about the need for backup for several federal agents that had been caught up in some gang-related matters. She sighed. "So much for having an uneventful day," she said to herself, although she wasn't actually annoyed; this was just part of her job.


She turned down the street where the agents were located and found that she had been the first to get there. Not even five seconds after she arrived, her windshield blew out into shards, and she shouted out curses as she used one arm to shield her face from the raining glass; she felt some of the pieces scrape against her left cheek anyway, and just as she'd some what recovered, she heard — and definitely felt — another shot pierce a hole in one of her wheels. She struggled to gain control of her vehicle as she felt it swerving out of her control. It seemed like so many things were happening at once that when a figure dropped and landed onto the hood of her car, she had to whip her head around see see what the hell it was. She was about vituperate whoever it was before stopping herself and observing the man (who she saw was in a full-blow costume; what kind of a nutcase was he?). She looked baffled at even how he managed to jump onto her car and even more so as she realized that the man's getup was strikingly similar to that of Batman. Dragging her sleeve across her face, her eyes darted up to his face as he spoke. She shook her head to herself and decided it would be best not to question anything.


"Whatever you say, Batman, " she muttered under her breath in an almost sarcastic manner as she opened the car door and began to move. Her evening had definitely taken a different turn than she was expecting.

 

[Mitheral]

Kevin noted the sarcasm in Olivia’s voice with just a little surprise - or was it a minor blow to his ego? His sudden arrival on the scene had shocked the sniper into hesitation. The costumed nutcase had dropped in out of nowhere. That hesitation gave Kevin the time he needed to spin around off the hood to the ground to keep interposing himself between Olivia and the sniper. In the same action he removed a flash bang from his utility belt and heaved it some 50 yards and 6 floors up at the sniper. His cape billowed out behind him blocking Olivia’s view, but providing excellent cover. Kevin didn’t actually expect to hit the sniper, but damned if the grenade didn’t bounce off his chest and fall right at his feet.


“I meant to do that,” he thought to himself.


He was already spinning back around to face Olivia. “You have a rifle back there?” He heard the brief hesitation in the automatic weapons fire. So he didn’t wait for an answer. “Someone over there needs help. I’ll draw their fire.” Behind him the flash bang went off in the sniper’s face. “Snipers on 2nd, 3rd, and 4th floors of the building to the right side of the street ahead. Automatic weapons though, probably AK’s. Do your thing; I’ll do mine.”


With that Kevin spun and leapt nearly three stories into the air, landing on fire escape and leaping again. By the third leap he was already on top of the buildings and leaping clear across the street toward where the sniper was dazed. All Olivia could make out was Dark Knight’s silhouette. Kevin landed next to the man and dragged him over the side of the building toward the pavement below, his cape billowing out to slow his fall - far better than it should have. Kevin let the man drop the last 20 feet but kept the rifle, slamming into the pavement nearby. He shoved the muzzle of the rifle into the concrete bending it and dropped it.


He was now on the far side of the scene from where Olivia would be entering. And that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to draw the attention of the gangbangers. Any weapons trained on him wouldn’t be aimed at either Olivia or the feds. He made note of his grenades - 5 flash bangs to go. Plenty. He walked and stood directly under a streetlight. For a brief moment the gunplay dwindled off. Then it started to rain bullets all around Kevin. He wrapped his cape in front of himself protectively. He wasn’t bulletproof. And he was already going to pay for a few of those shots.

 

[Tamed]

Olivia's focus was divided forty-sixty between the man that was currently shielding her from a fusillade of bullets and her movements as she slowly maneuvered herself away from her totaled car. Considering the circumstances, she couldn't afford to stop and think about the technicalities of how he was able to do what he was, but that thought would remain tucked away in her mind to contemplate when she wasn't worried about getting a bullet lodged in her body. In what seemed like the same moment, she watched as the costumed nutcase pulled what she identified as a flash bang out of his belt and launched it an astoundingly far distance; his cape then surged up and undulated, blocking her view, but from where she had seen the grenade heading it looked like he had thrown it with pretty decent accuracy.


She pushed some whisps of hair out of her eyes as the man rotated back around to face her. At the question of whether or not she had a rifle, her response was, "Not on my person," and it was said through a forced exhale. She caught a glimpse of the flash bang going off over his shoulder before concentrating on where he was referring to as he spoke. "Do your thing; I'll do mine," she repeated before sprinting back to her vehicle, using it as a cover as she reached inside to retrieve her gun. When she spotted an opening, Olivia made a break for where the agent was that needed help, and simultaneously she turned to see the man's silhouette leap an inhumanly distance into the air, drag the dazed sniper over the edge of the building down to the ground below, and render his gun unusable. At this point she had found a place to crouch behind, and she peeked over to see him putting himself in full view for the reason (at least what she assumed) of drawing the attention away from her and the feds. Thoughts and questions were flying through her mind about him, but she shook them off and positioned her rifle to shoot.

 

[Mitheral]

As soon as the gunmen started to shoot their muzzle flashes highlighted their positions very nicely. From her initial position arriving on the scene Olivia had a poor position to take aim at the gangbangers on the ground, but could see their automatic weapons fire was shredding the cars of the feds. The feds had to have walked in on a major operation to have incited such a response. The FBI office in NYC was the largest in the US. The reprisals were going to be off the charts. Olivia’s best choices for initial targets were the men firing from sniper positions from the 2nd and 4th floors. She never did see a man on the 3rd floor and could only assume one of the FBI agents had got lucky - or the gangbanger had come to his senses and left the scene.


As soon as the gang started to open fire on Dark Knight he took off sprinting toward the building the gang had been using at what looked like a car’s highway speed. In truth it was a bit slower, but in the small area it looked faster than it was. Then he did the truly impossible. he turned hard to run parallel to the building while jumping and his the side of the building with his feet still moving. He was running sideways on the building for nearly 25-30 yards before coming back down to the sidewalk again close to the positions of the gang bangers on the ground. His speed was so fast that the remaining gang members started turning their weapons on him. In fact, he was moving so unexpectedly that they fired more where he had been rather than where he was or would be. Dark Knight restricted his attacks to disarming, simply grabbing the weapons and ripping them out of the hands of the wielders. He had already demonstrated a strength that would have allowed him to hurt the thugs badly, but demonstrated restraint - something that didn’t sync well with the rumors about his activities.


The blitz attack was so effective that the gang started to beat feet in seconds, a fact for which kevin was grateful. His body was sore all over. Most of the shots had missed, but not all. His body armor might have stopped those that hit, but not without considerable pain. It was all over in seconds. Olivia was able to take down or pin down the men on the upper floors - some simply withdrawing now that the tables had turned. She never did find a body of any of the gunmen she had hit - but there was blood, enough to mean the thug would need medical attention soon.


The battle on the ground ended with Dark Knight holding a thug off the ground in one arm glowering at him and the Feds now turning their weapons on him and ordering him to drop the man and stand down. But Kevin had no intention of sticking around to answer questions. Instead he responded by dropping the thug as ordered.


“The bug you found wasn’t mine. You still have a killer out there. If I hear anything, I’ll find a way to contact you.” Then Kevin silently leapt upwards two floors at a time and vanished over the roof.

 

[Tamed]

Whatever affair the Feds had unintentionally intervened upon, it must have been something extensive to have led to a full-blown gun fight between the gang and the officials. While Olivia couldn't take aim at those who were on the ground, she did have somewhat of a leverage on the two snipers on the second and fourth floors. After several shooting several bullets up at them, she paused with a look of homogenous incredulity and bewilderment as she watched Dark Knight run perpendicular to the ground, up the side of the building. "What the hell?" she whispered under her breath as her eyes trailed him as he returned to the ground — she didn't know whether to be impressed or disturbed at the fact that he'd just bent the laws of gravity. She didn't tarry on it.


Olivia was, however, interested to see that he was only disarming the gang members and not harming them. It was clear to see how much strength the man had, yet he had blatantly chosen to use it for the purpose of only taking away the weapons from the opposing side. So he was clearly a ‘superhero’ — she thought this with a muted mordancy, considering his costume resembled Batman — he had, after all, protected her from getting shot when her car had been wrecked. She'd managed to take down or at least get a couple of good shots at the snipers she's been aiming for, but other than that the fight ended with the rest of the gang fleeing to preserve their lives.


She then watched as the Feds turned their focus — and their guns — toward the man in costume, demanding he stand down and let go of the thug he had in his grasp. Other than the fact he had been giving a scowling look at the member he had been holding, Olivia personally didn't see a big reason to threaten the man with weapons. He had been on their side of the fight and had especially helped her; it wasn't like he was the villain in this situation. She listened as he spoke of the killer and how of he heard any other news about him, that he'd find a way of contact. She then watched as he dissapear over the roof.


She glanced at her car — it was in pretty bad shape. The windshield had been blown to pieces, her wheel was shot out, and there were dents from where he had landed on the hood; she definitely wasn't going to be able to leave in that thing. With a sigh, she moved to figure out what her best option was to get home.

 

[Mitheral]

In the back of his mind Kevin worked out the logistics of what was going to happen at the scene he had just left. He held nothing against the FBI; they were just doing their job. He was a suspect. They would have been well within their rights to shoot when he failed to stop. But his short speech had been enough to save him additional pain.


He expected Olivia to be tied up at the scene with the FBI as backup arrived - probably at least 30 min, if not more. That would buy him plenty of time to get to his apartment - shaking any tails - to change, grab his car and return to the scene of the crime. His car was a former police car he had bought on auction when he was 16 - with Ryan’s help. Kevin had spent more than a few hours nursing the car back into shape. After 7 years the car had gone through more than a few repairs - including a new engine and transmission - but still looked great. He had made a few improvements along the way during his college years. Oh it was no batmobile, but it would take punishment that it originally would never have survived. He only wished he had the technical skills to do better.


When he arrived the tow truck had yet to arrive. He flashed his badge and asked what was going on, asking if they needed CSI on the scene or not, admitting he was an intern. His picture had been taken against a blue background rather than a red, indicating he was a civilian and not commissioned to carry a firearm. He wasn’t a cop. Oh he knew everything a cop would know, but his parents had wanted him to follow a less hazardous career path. His father had been tickled with his interest in science.


He played innocent as he pointed out Olivia and told the officer manning the perimeter she was in his division. Then he asked he could park and check on her. Police brotherhood being what it was, the officer gave him a nod and gestured. Kevin parked and walked over to get Olivia’s attention.


“Wasn’t that your car over there?” he asked. “Crap, what happened? You think insurance is going to take care of it? I am going to guess it was line of duty.” He let her respond, allowing for any rants or raves to run their course patiently. Then he spoke up as he studied the damage. “I can probably fix most of it. I could probably even replace an engine.” He looked up. “I have a two car garage. My apartment is a converted warehouse. When I say garage, I mean auto mechanic’s garage. I even have a hoist to pull an engine. I rebuilt my own car starting back when I was 16. Ryan kind of helped. I’ll have to move my motorcycles around.” He used the plural. “I only ride one. The other …” he grinned. “I really need to sell that one. It has taken enough abuse.” He laughed a little. “Even repaired it makes your car look like it ready to drive off the lot. It was my first dirt bike. It is a miracle I never broke every bone in my body.”

 

[Tamed]

Olivia remained at the scene while she waited for backup to arrive. She rubbed at her temples with her fingertips, breathing in deeply as she tried to massage away a headache she could feel forming; pains tended to develop behind her eyes following stressful situations — and, of course, she had just been in close range to various guns going off (including her own). She squinted slightly, but otherwise her outward expression of feeling any discomfort was very subtle. Her braid had been wrecked by both her car incident and the wind, so she yanked at the elastic, her long hair falling messily over her shoulders as she returned the tie to her wrist.


At the sound of nearing footsteps, Olivia turned looked to the side and saw Kevin coming toward her. She lifted her hand in acknowledgement as he approached. "Yes, that was my car," she said with a nod, glancing over her shoulder to get a glimpse of it before facing him again. "I'm hoping insurance will take care of it, but I'm not sure. And you guessed right." She found it strange being asked so many questions, considering she was normally the one making the inquiries to other people. Nonetheless, she continued to further elaborate on her last answer. "I was out with the squad and was heading home when my radio went off about some agents needing help; they got tangled up in some gang business as they were passing through an area. So I went, and as soon as I got there my windshield was blown out," she gestured to her face, where she was sure there were some cuts and small smears of blood, "and shattered everywhere. A second shot blew out my tire, and then a man in costume — Dark Knight, I think? I believe I've heard his name rumored about, and his getup strikingly resembled Batman's so I'm assuming it was him — landed on and dented my hood. So that pretty much explains the current state of my car." She shook her head and a faint, somewhat amused and/or disbelieving smile appeared on her lips. "Not exactly how I thought my evening would go, but hey."


Her eyebrows raised curiously as Kevin stated that there was a good chance he could repair the damage. "Well aren't you just multi-talented," she replied amusedly, thought listened attentively as he described his garage and how he had built his first car when he was a teenager. She was about to question his use of the plural when he mentioned motercycles, but he answered before she even asked. "Damn, you probably should get rid of that one," she said with a laugh. "I rode a dirt bike with my brother once when I was younger. Didn't end too well — I broke my arm and sprained my elbow. Needless to say, that's why I only did it once."

 

[Mitheral]

(Note: Kevin’s apartment isn’t as stand alone as the building above, but the four story section is about twice the size.)


Kevin’s apartment was a four story building, large enough that it seemed unlikely that a simple intern could afford the entire site. And Kevin didn’t even admit to anything until much later. He asked the tow truck driver to back the car into one of the garages - which sported pretty decent security, if not convenience. (He didn’t use a remote access.) He opened both doors, parking his own car quickly so he could get out and move his motorcycles. He owned a Kawasaki Ninja - his fast street bike - and a dirt bike that fit his description perfectly. It was heavily scarred from so many wrecks that it was a miracle Kevin was alive. He looked over and grinned like a fool while he moved it. Truth to tell Kevin had loved the dirt bike for the simple fact that it levelled the playing field a bit when competing against other kids.


Once Olivia's car was safely tucked away he offered to show her around. As eager as he was it was hard to say no. “Keep in mind that it’s a work in progress. The place isn’t anywhere close to done. I mainly concentrated on a place to sleep, eat / cook, the garage, my gym, library and lab. And many of those are still pretty rough looking. They don’t all have real walls yet, just insulation and sheets of plastic to manage any dust. I don’t get many visitors. Even my sister doesn’t really visit. And don’t expect a lot of my so called library and lab.


“If you hadn’t already heard about it, I’m sure you will. I carry the stigmata of a father accused of being a dirty cop. He wasn’t. I have no doubt about that. In the end noone ever proved him guilty. But they never cleared him either. And it has been long enough that most trails have grown cold and noone wants to hear about me trying to get the case moved out of the cold case files.” He paused, his mouth forming a frown. “Anyways, eventually the insurance money came through.” He gestured to the walls and ceiling. “Car, education, place to live.”


Once they entered his living area the first thing to hit Olivia was that Kevin’s kitchen and dining area might be bigger than her whole apartment. He actually had a pit barbecue - indoors. He was greeted by a kitten that looked like it had been dunked in tye dye and left to starve in a dumpster.


“Hello Schroedinger!” Kevin smiled. He looked at Olivia laughing. The kitten was mewing plaintively. “First order of business, feed the bottomless pit. I really need one of those contraptions Doc used in Back to the Future. I’d check him for worms, but I’d more likely find wormholes.”


Once he had the cat scarfing down food he offered Olivia something to drink - but he had nothing alcoholic anywhere in the house. In fact his refrigerator was filled with good food - healthy food. It was everything a normal bachelor’s kitchen shouldn’t be - though it lacked anything resembling a woman’s touch. No signs of a girlfriend taking care of his place.


He led her back to the dojo. This was very possibly the most impressive part of the apartment but built very oddly. His pel wasn’t a single pel, but four. And they were designed to strike back. It was at this point that Olivia recalled she thought she had spotted some bruises on Kevin’s neck. However, here in better lighting she saw no signs of a bruise. He had been walking a little stiff before. That too seemed to have improved. To complete the facility there was a case filled with practice weapons or nearly every common or police sort.


Next was the pool - indoor and heated - the size of a YMCA pool, complete with diving boards. He basement included something he had forgotten to mention - an indoor gun range. He had a variety of direct fire weapons - nearly everything an police officer would ever use.


The gym was one of his favorite areas. He had skimped on frills, but the place was reminiscent of the TV series Arrow. He even had the cool workout set. (Video) His gym took up a good fourth of the building. He was grinning. “And now you know why I don’t work out at the station so much.”

 

[Tamed]

After watching her car be backed into one of the garages, Olivia accepted Kevin's offer of showing her around his place — he was so enthusiastic in his proposition that she found she didn't have the heart to decline. She listened to his disclaimer of how it was unfinished and still needed work, and she just laughed and told him that she wouldn't judge; never would she have guessed that his apartment would be so large. She frowned slightly as he talked about his father. "Yeah, I've heard about about you and your dad," she said, and didn't push him to tell more after he changed the subject.


Her expression shifted to one of disbelief as they entered the living area. "Holy crap," she said, not expecting the size of the kitchen and dining room to be what it was; she hadn't intended to speak that out loud, but after to came out she closed her mouth and cleared her throat. "This part of your apartment alone is bigger than mine in its entirety," she said surprisedly. How was he able to afford a place like this? She was looking around when she heard the soft padding of paws and glanced down to see a very unusual looking cat. She found herself smiling at the sight and turned toward Kevin as he called the feline by its name. "Schroedinger? Like Schrödinger's cat?"


Olivia then politely declined his offer for a drink, saying she wasn't thirsty but thanks anyway. When Kevin led her to the dojo she couldn't help but to be impressed. As she watched him, she could of sworn she'd seen some bruises on his neck, but she didn't spot any as she looked him over; same thing with his walk. She'd thought he'd been a little stiff, but he seemed to be fine now. She decided to just blame it on the prior lighting. As he took her through the rest of his apartment she was surprised to see that he had a gun range as well. When they arrived at the gym area, she simply nodded in reply to his statement. "Yeah," she said with a laugh, "I can definitely tell. Christ, your place is incredible."

 

[Mitheral]

After the short tour they had ended up back in the gym. “So … you actually saw Dark Knight … in person? What happened?” He had spoken with the FBI agents and overheard comments by some of the gang members that hadn’t escaped. He listened to Olivia’s account, but raised his eyebrow skeptically. One of the feds had confirmed the part about Dark Knight running Matrix style on the side of the building. He had to fight back a smile, which might have come off as disbelief. He could only respond with, “Does he fly and wear a red cape too? Maybe he has a big S on the front of his shirt?”


But his humor couldn’t remain too long. “He’s been digging into my father’s case. He half expected what went down tonight. Someone is shipping in military grade hardware. My father was digging into a case long ago about a money laundering operation. I think it’s related to what happened tonight. Imagine an organization big enough to be more than the dark reflection of NYPD. We have divisions: Organized Crime, Vice, Homicide … But we are dedicated to stopping all that. So imagine an organization dedicated to doing the crimes. Then add in the significance of military grade equipment. It is a case for Homeland Security. Thing is, I’m not sure who to bring the case to. Not Ryan. I know he’s decorated, a hero cop, but …”


Kevin’s face darkened. “Ryan is high on my list of suspects. I can’t be sure, but he is the one person my Dad may have confided in. My Dad wasn’t shot by any member of the gang. He was assassinated. I just can’t prove it. And Ryan, I just can’t be sure he wasn’t allowed to live on purpose. I have a sickening feeling he was the one on the take. He has underworld connections. He used to work undercover. I wouldn’t even be telling you all this if Cantrell and Donnelley hadn’t vouched for you. Just be very careful who you trust in the Division.”


He paused, then tried to force himself back into a lighter mood. “So … Lois Lane … what did you think of Superman?” He leapt up a couple feet to grab onto the crossbar of the Arrow exercise ‘ladder.’ With what looked like ease he jumped a rung and winced from a twinge in his back. There was a small clattering noise as something small and hard fell on the mat. He dropped to the ground and grimaced. “Okay, maybe not such a great idea.” For that brief moment the muscles he rarely ever showed off became readily apparent. He was ripped – moreso that any lab tech ought to be. But he looked like he was in pain. Then she smelled it … blood.


The sniper with the high point vantage position had been using armor piercing rounds – cop killers. Only now were the rounds Kevin had taken to his back were working their way back out. Laying on the floor under the crossbar where he had been starting to exercise was a badly deformed slug – or an armor piercing round – the same caliber used to nearly kill the FBI agent and had almost put an end to Olivia’s own life. The round had gone clean through the FBI agent and his vest.


Kevin’s breathing stopped for a moment as he turned slightly sideways in the direction of Olivia’s attention. “I guess that may take a little explaining.”

 

[Tamed]

"Yes, I did see him — I told you he dented my car, remember?" Olivia's tone was almost teasing as she responded. Her hands were gathering her hair back into a ponytail as she recalled what happened, looking at Kevin as she did so. "So I already explained how we... met, if you could call it that. In short, he shielded me from some bullets — his cape was made from some ballistic nylon or a similar fabric — before I moved positions to help one of the agents. He dragged one of gang members off the side of the building before blatantly defying the laws of gravity by running straight up the edifice's facade." She still looked disbelieving, even as she spoke of the event a second time. Her laugh in response to his superman comment was suppressed as she pressed her lips together in an effort not to; what resulted was a grin. "Not so much fly, but he could surely leap tall buildings in a single bound."


Her comicality faded with his. She cocked her head to the side as she listened to Kevin's explanation of how Dark Knight had been digging around his father's case; she supposed that since he was a ‘hero,’ he would have possibly wanted to clear Mr. Brady's name. Olivia furrowed her brows as he told her he wasn't keen on taking the case to Ryan. When she questioned why, she saw Kevin's face darken as he gave her an answer.


"You think Ryan may have done it?" Olivia listened further as he spoke of Detective Kelly and his contacts, where he gave her advice she just seemed to keep hearing in one way or another — be careful who you trust. It was a rational caution, but a slightly ominous seeming one.


She smiled as Kevin jokingly referred to her as Lois Lane and watched him as he jumped and grabbed hold of the crossbar. "I don't think I can formulate an opinion on him, considering I didn't exactly have the time to get to know him on some deeply personal level," she said with amusement, "He did save my life, so I suppose I have to give him credit for that." However, her eyes darted downward at the sound of something hard clattering against the ground. At this point her lightheartedness melted away and left seriousness (and possibly some skepticism) in its place. Her eyes turned to catch a glimpse of his apparent pain and she found that she could detect a scent in the air — it smelled metallic — perhaps even coppery — and she knew immediately what she was smelling was blood. Now taking a look at what had fell to the floor, she noticed that it was an armor piercing round uncannily similar to the ones that had been used in the gun fight.


Olivia grabbed on to Kevin's arm and pulled so he was turned in a position where she could see his back. What was on his shirt was what she'd expected — red splotches. She faced him properly and retracted her hand, crossing her arms over her chest in a nearly accusing manner. "Kevin," she said, her tone almost a warning, her eyes narrowed slightly. "I think you'll have to do more than a little explaining."

 

[Mitheral]

Kevin tried to mentally kick himself. He knew how long it took for rounds to work themselves back through their entry points. He could easily have timed things to avoid this very problem. Or he could have dug them out earlier and been done with it. But he had also wanted to check on Olivia and make sure she got home safe. Still … what would Freud say?


“Not sure I have a good one. Excuse me.” He pulled his shirt off. There was a small reddish burn on the front of his chest that caught Olivia’s attention. It looked fresh. He smiled gently. That one managed to bounce off my spine, tear through my right lung, bounce off my front ribs - to get stopped by my frontal armor. Let me tell you, it was hard not to show how painful it was burning my chest. I guess it must have been the adrenaline.” He jerked a little as another round started to work its way out of his back.


“I can handle the lighter calib --” he stopped and looked at Olivia. “But I guess that isn’t the explanation you are looking for. For what it is worth, I meant it. I WAS going to plant a tracker on your car - but found your secret admirer’s bug. I wasn’t sure if it was his or the Feds. It was a government model.


“Tonight I was just out on a patrol. I was looking for that arms shipment. I really wanted to keep that stuff off the streets. But I was at the wrong site with things went down. In a way this was my fault. What I am trying to do is track the money - more specifically the money laundering.” He grimaced as the last round finally worked its way out of his back. “C’mon, you may as well see the rest - well, most of it. To the batcave.” He chuckled. “I used to love Batman when I was a kid. And I needed an answer to that question: who are you!”


He led her back to his Library / Study - not the one accessible to any regular guests. No this one had to be access by way of a secret alcove similar to the fire poles in the old Batman TV episodes from the 60’s - minus the pole. He sighed. “You’ll have to trust me. He held his arms open to hug her. Once she accepted he pulled her into the alcove and they fell. The landing was gentle though.


“It is not who we am behind a mask, but our deeds which define us,” Kevin spoke to thin air. “Albert?” He chuckled a little. “We have company.” (Yes, he said Albert, not Alfred.)


Lighting in the room began to rise to the level of a command center and a male voice responded. “Good evening sir. I trust all is well.”


“Not sure yet. We are about to find out if I am crazy. The jury is still out. I’d like to introduce Detective Olivia Beth Morgan.” Kevin set Olivia down on her feet gently.


“Good evening Detective. Please state your name for voice recognition...” Albert was clearly a program. He lacked the personality of a real AI.


+++++++++++++


The place was laid out like a command center, but very skeletal in terms of equipment. One thing he did have was a LOT of flat screens and his own server farm housed in what looked like bulletproof glass. There was a small section devoted to comics among the bookshelves amidst which was a Batman exhibit and boxes of various trophies – a few martial arts trophies sticking out the tops. Judging from the dust starting to gather he didn’t seem in a hurry to show off his prizes.


What was displayed was a police badge – his father’s no doubt. That was unusual in that the badge should have been collected and retired. Someone had pulled strings to get it for him.


One wall had been cleared and covered with corkboard where an organizational chart of multiple criminal groups had been started. And they all tied upwards to an unknown. The chart was very professionally done - using much the same notations a police detective or intelligence analyst might have used. "I gave up on that chart. The wall was too small. What I really needed was a wall of flat screens." He gestured to the other wall. "I started with a single crime. And this is what I branched out to. When it started to blossom out, I started tracking everything - wherever money flowed past suspected criminal fronts, I am following."


"I started from a money laundering scheme about seven years ago - the one my Dad was tracking." Kevin brought up the organizational chart, then clicked his way through leads until he came to a police case. It was an IA investigation into Det. Shawn Brady - my father. IA had been tracking periodic deposits into the man's accounts. But before they could close the case, he was shot and killed. He was never formally charged. *I* know he was innocent."


Kevin paused, knowing full well what might be going through Olivia’s mind. "I'm not just guessing or taking it on faith. I may have started there. Now, that faith has been upgraded to a hunch. Det. Mitchel Cantrell, the IA agent who ran the investigation had meetings - I believe with my Dad - BEFORE the first deposits were made. In other words, I think IA knew my Dad was going to go 'bad' before he ever did. My Mother was dying in the hospital. He was a prime candidate for taking bribes. So I think IA approached him and asked him to help them gain access to all ... this." He gestured to the wall.


Then Kevin started pulling up his files on Cantrell. Now this was where Oliviya’s estimation of Kevin improved. As much as Kevin trusted Cantrell and was sure the man was honest, he had researched the man and tracked his movements. Cantrell had gone to his brother’s funeral. It had been a triple burial, for his sister in law and niece had been among the deceased.


Not even giving the matter a second thought Dark Knight opened up the file on the criminal investigation of the death of Mitchell’s brother, an Interpol agent. The image of the crime scene was frightening, for the man’s car had been ripped apart – literally torn in half, and partly melted. The man himself was scorched, his body ripped into a dozen pieces and his skull crushed. According to the report he had managed to empty his gun. But there had been very little trace of residue.


Then Kevin clicked on the related bombing of the man’s home. The revenge had been terrible. The image was of the corpse of a girl. There was literally a charred 2 x 4 sticking through her, her body blackened by the bomb blast that had blown her out onto the front yard from the front door. She must have been standing in front of it when it blew. The girl was of course, Mitchell Cantrell’s niece.


“There’s more, but I think you have some idea what I am getting myself into. I have learned of money transfers around the times of these attacks - as well as the death of my father - in which some of the account numbers match up.”


Kevin finally turned to Olivia. “The world actually needs Dark Knight.”

 

[Tamed]

Olivia didn't know whether to be highly concerned or strangely fascinated with what she was seeing; the civilian part of her was screaming how Kevin's apparent regenerative abilities were not normal and certainly not okay - however, as a detective, she was inclined to question him about it and/or find out more as to how they worked and where he got them from. She ended up doing neither. She remained silent, the muscles in her jaw tightening while her eyes flicked over him suspiciously as if she wasn't sure what to think of him anymore, or if now knowing what he was capable of should change her impression of him at all. On top of this somewhat of an internal monologue she was having, Olivia was still waiting on his explanation as to why he had multiple bullet rounds — the same ones that were being used by the gang members — lodged in his back. She was not doubting her memory; she knew that he — Kevin, anyway — had not been on the scene until he drove up and approached her asking what had happened to her car. She made sure to stare directly at his face while her expression continued to appear slightly accusing.


She watched as he removed his shirt, and Olivia's eves were drawn to a small but very visible burn on his chest. Concern washed over her features and her lips parted in worry when he told her about the path of the bullet that was causing the mark. "Oh my God," she said, her voice low, unable to imagine how he was capable of functioning properly after that — it had gone through his lung for heaven's sake.


At this point, Olivia pretty much knew the reason behind his gunshot wounds and was just wanting to hear it come from him; she'd been ale to connect the evidence more or less when she saw his blood and the clanging of the bullet itself on the floor. She figured he knew this as well because he didn't come outright an say he was Dark Knight, instead just confirming her suspicions by repeating what the costumed man — now also known as Kevin with a disguise and cape — had said about the bug that had been found her car. She supposed she appreciated his concern for her, and voiced this. "I guess I should be thanking you for caring about my well-being. So — thanks." She gave a small smile, and in a more lighthearted tone said, "You're pretty good at acting. Had that round not worked its way out of your torso, I wouldn't have suspected a thing."


At his offer to show her around what she assumed was a sort of HQ, she grinned, especially at his use of calling it the batcave. "I suppose I'm in too deep to back out now, so sure, why not." As she followed him to the entrance of the study, she realized that it was one where they'd have to drop into. She trusted Kevin enough that she accepted his hug but not without clenching her teeth as he pulled her down into the alcove.


Once there, she nearly snorted as he referred to someone - or something rather - as Albert. "That's mighty close to Alfred," she commented, "How much could you possibly steal from Batman?" Olivia questioned this in a voice that clearly denoted banter. She listened as Kevin spoke to the program and as it spoke back to him. She stated her name as she was asked for it.


Afterward Olivia turned her head from side to side, looking at all the decor and assets of the room when her eyes fell upon a police badge — she didn't doubt for a second that it was his father's. She saw a chart on one of the walls and was impressed with its quality. The dedication he had for clearing his dad's name and for figuring out the whole money laundering situation was admirable.


She trained her eyes on the screen as Kevin pulled up a file on the investigation of Cantrell's brother. The images were horrific; she didn't think she'd ever seen more brutal death's than his and his niece's. She glanced up as he turned to face her. "Yeah," she said, "I suppose it does."

 

[Mitheral]

Kevin still seemed a little guarded. There were those who might have accused him of interfering with investigations. But then considering that he had been told repeatedly the investigations were closed, he considered that point null and void. The real risk was that in the course of his investigations he would cross lines of a legal investigation and render any evidence unusable in a courtroom.


“You hungry? Regenerating works my metabolism on overtime. Oh, and if my talking starts to wear you out, I don’t sleep much - several hours a week is all I need. And if you get really tired, I have a spare bed here just in case my sister ever throws a tantrum with Ryan and shows up out of the blue.” He looked at Olivia sharply. “She doesn’t know about any of this.”


He shut down the command center and offered a hug to Olivia once more. “And Albert is short for Albert Einstein.” He smiled, a bit subdued from his earlier mood. The AI program didn’t sound remotely like the German scientist, so Kevin’s claim was a little dubious. “Uhm, there is another way out, but it is a pain to use. After all I had to get all this gear in here somehow. Back up the chute is the quickest way. I don’t fly exactly. I sort of walk on air. Not quite the same thing. But it does make it possible to glide fast. In this case, neither is necessary. Mind your arms and feet.” He drew her onto a platform the size of a manhole cover and drew her in tight. “Up, up and away?” The platform, again voice activated, moved as he grinned. “Okay, I stole from comic books a bit.”


He made himself a couple sandwiches and a gumbo soup, and offering Olivia much the same. She caught him shuffling around some spices - notably oregano. He stuck inside an enclosed cabinet, though he didn’t even glance at her. Then a jar of natural peanut butter went bye bye in like manner. He washed his hands carefully afterwards before handling any food for her, but looked completely nonchalant when he walked over to sit down.


“In a way it is a little bit of a relief to actually tell someone about all this. I am hoping I don’t find a task force waiting for me tomorrow with a white jacket that has wrap around sleeves. I’m not crazy. And I don’t do B&E to get my information, or wiretap. Yes, I do surveillance; I plant tracking devices. I snap pictures. I don’t follow a lead without probably cause. When I DO finally bring all this to light, I want it to stick. And you are likely to wonder where I got all the account information if I don’t use illegal means. The answer to that is an informant. That’s how I got the Cantrell data. I hate to admit it, but I don’t even know who my informant is. But he .. uhm .. gave me a profile on you - way more detailed that any vouching Det Donnelley did. I mean I even saw your elementary school records and baby pics. To be honest it was a little unnerving.


“Your car … I have someone that can help me with the custom work. Police have been putting that guy through a wringer under suspicion of running a chop shop named Momentum Custom Auto Center. But they have found nothing so far. However, the guy does rub elbows with organized crime - including the same people I am investigating. He’s been applying to get a Customs Inspection license. And he’s been a guest at a private mafia nightclub owned by the DeSimone family.. Ryan has a membership there. It’s one of those places police don’t go because they might find themselves face to face with a politician or rich VIP sort. You’d never get in unless you were working there. And I’d never get in … period. Anyways, take your car there would be a good excuse to get a closer look at the place - with legitimate business.”