The Knightstick Chronicles, Rough Justice

Ch 12, No One Fears The Law

Where do you take your best friend after almost dying at the hands of a lunatic biker gang? For most people, home, or even a hospital would be reasonable. But me? I drove us to a diner.

Marv's diner was across the street from my place in Old Town. It used to be a frequent haunt of mine before I left the force. Marv himself, a plump, red-faced balding guy in his early sixties, managed the stove while his short, gray-haired and stern-faced wife, Ling, took care of the customers. I used to eat breakfast there so often the place felt more like a second home than a restaurant. Marv and Ling were always good for a casual morning chat before I drove to the station, and, to be honest, I would go for their company as much as I would for the good food. Over the past month, I had started coming around again. Although I was sure they knew about Maria's death, they never pressed me on it. They were good people.

So I felt kind of bad about Daniel and I, walking through the door, looking like death warmed over and dripping blood all over the place.

I parked on the street and we limped into the establishment taking the booth furthest from the door, sitting on the benches without speaking. It took me a minute to convince Ling we didn't need an ambulance, after which she brought me a menu and Daniel an Ice pack with a slice of raw ginger root. "Rub this on your head," she said sternly. Daniel looked at her, slightly confused. "Do what the lady says," I told Daniel cautiously. He took the ginger and smiled feebly. Ling looked me up and down, "Coffee?" she asked. "Yes please," I answered. "Creamer or aspirin?" she asked casually. God bless her. "Aspirin," I answered. Ling nodded and walked back to the counter.

Daniel sniffed the ginger, put it down and iced the goose egg growing out of his head. I started to speak, but he held up a hand interrupting me, "if you try to apologize right now I will punch you," he said. I closed my mouth. Ling returned with two coffees and a pair of aspirin. I nodded gratefully and she squeezed my shoulder before walking away.

I had already texted Finnick our location before we got to the diner. He said he was on his way, So Daniel and I waited in tired silence. I laid my hands on the table, rubbing bloodied knuckles trying to get them to stop shaking. My whole body was one giant raw nerve, exposed and sensitive to the slightest sound, It was horrible. I never used to be so on edge after a fight, but things had been different since Maria.

I looked at Daniel as he gazed out the window to the old streets. After a while he finally spoke, "...The apartment riots, seriously? He said to the window, shaking his head. I bit down on my lip to stop an ill-timed smile from creeping across my lips, and cleared my throat, "worked didn't it?" I said. Daniel looked at me sideways and removed the ice from his head, pointing at his lump. I couldn't help it. I let out a deranged laugh. He glared at me, then turned away trying to hide his own smile. "Good shot by the way," I told him. He shook his head again, "You do remember what happened at the riot was an accident, right?" He chortled. I shrugged. The tension eased between us and I picked up my coffee.

Moments later, the bell over the door rang, and I looked up as Finnick crossed the floor toward our booth. He walked up and dropped his shotgun on the table with a clack, then looked down at Daniel, "Skootch," he said. Daniel obliged and Finnick slid in next to him. He grabbed Daniel's mug and downed the coffee.

There was a sudden scuffling of chairs, and I looked up catching Lings' eye from behind the counter. She threw her hands up and looked around the lobby while Marv poked his head out quizzically from the kitchen. I followed her gaze and saw the few other customers in the place, hurriedly gathering their things and leaving. I grimaced and mouthed "sorry" to her over Finnicks head. She rolled her eyes and went about settling bills.

"You were told to stay away from the Acolytes Acker." Finnck said after putting the mug down. Daniel tensed, "he was a violent wanted felon sir, why should we let him walk?" he said defiantly. Finnick's eyes bounced from his shotgun, back to Daniel, "does it look like I let him walk," he said. "That's not the point. You shouldn't have gone in like that."

"Why are cops being told to avoid a gang?" I interrupted. Finnick's attention shifted from Daniel to me. He sighed, "Remember that raid a few weeks back with the trio?" he asked, turning back to Daniel. Daniel nodded slowly, "How could I forget? I was out with the little girl's body for hours," he said slumping in his seat. Finnick put a cigarette between his lips and clicked open his zippo, "yeah," he said between puffs, "well here's the thing. The mayor's new gang task force that ran that raid is a farce. Those three assholes are putting the heat on a bunch of low-level gangs and making record-breaking busts for some serious crimes based on anonymous tips they pull out of their asses."

I mulled that over, "They're busting gangs... but not the Acolytes?" I mused out loud. Finnick pointed at me, then to his nose before grabbing the mug out of my hands. "The memo that went out telling patrol to steer clear was from them. We think the trio is covering for them," he said, sipping my coffee. Daniel shook his head, "Assistant Chief Enzo sent that memo," he corrected. Finnick flicked ashes into Daniel's empty coffee mug and gave him a knowing glance. Daniel's eyes widened in comprehension. "The Mayor, the Assistant Chief, a team of detectives-" he said. "And God knows who else," Finnick added, nodding. "You're suspended Daniel," he said, changing the topic abruptly. Daniel stiffened and sat up straight, "What! Why?" Finnick blew out a puff of smoke, "Because the Chief and I are running a shadow operation to uproot this shit, and you two knuckleheads just kicked a goddamn hornet's nest in my face," he replied. Daniel fell silent.

"So, why did you help us then?" I asked. Finnick's brow furrowed and he blinked several times. He took his cigarette out of his mouth and leaned in glaring at me, clearly offended by my dumb question, "I'm not about to let an army of criminals think they can get away with blasting honest cops." He said, irritably. Finnicks phone buzzed in his pocket. He leaned back in his seat, dug it out of his coat, and looked at the screen.