Down a Dark Alley [Jack]

[Claudio Vinccino]

[March 21st - Evening]

A young boy made his way tentatively into the bar. He was an average boy, a street urchin. He scanned the crowd for the man he had been sent to find.

Spotting his target, he gulped and made his way over.

"Scuse me Mistah Briggs.... sah." He said, his sharp cockney accent cutting over the sound of the surroundings. He tugged on the man's shirt with his dirty, fingerless gloved hands. "But I'um sposed ta tell ya that..." He glanced at the note in his hand. The fine script was somewhat smudged but still legible. The boys mother had taught him to read before she died, he hadn't thought it would come in useful till today. "Tell ya that she, is in trahble sah."

He handed the note across, and stood silent for a moment. "I'um ta take you to her friend roight away." He paused. "Oi think it was fairly important. Somethin bout Missy-anne bein en trahble. 'nd needin yoah help."

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

It didn't take long for Jack to get completely sloshed after receiving Sian's letter. The bars near Persephone's docks were as numerous as the stars in the night sky, and he scarcely had to pay for his drinks since they all knew him there, though he tipped handsomely.

When Jack stood up and realized he was swaying unsteadily on his feet, he knew it was time to go home.

When the boy walked up to him, he had to blink to focus on him. "'Ey, isn't it past yo' bedtime?" he mumbled. He crouched down when the boy tugged on his shirt and offered him an ear. "Tell me what?" Jack sobered up a bit, adjusting one of his sleeves nervously; it had come unrolled. "Who's in trouble, kid?"

He took the note and scanned it, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Tucking it away with the balled-up letter from Sian, he stood up. The kid's butchery of Sian's name got him for a moment. "Missy...Anne?" Jack tugged off his hat to run his fingers through his hair, then stared at the hat. "Mis...sy...Anne. Miss Sian?" He squeezed the kid's shoulder. "Where? Take me to this 'friend'."

Though he was usually wary of such vague words, the alcohol had dulled his inhibitions and he threw caution to the wind. Sian. She'd been in trouble before, why not this time? He tugged out the letter Sian had sent him, sure he'd find a clue there. He brought the paper up close to his face as they walked. It smelled faintly of cinnamon, and he tripped as it reminded him of her, but it meant it was surely from Sian. Perhaps she'd been forced to write it. He shoved it back into his pocket and looked over at the kid. "Where're you takin' me?"

[Claudio Vinccino]

The boy hurried along the street, he paused slightly when Jack questioned him. "Yeah Yeah, thass wha 'e said 'er naime was."

"Oim takin' ya tew 'is 'ouse." He said simply. "Payed me firty platinum ta find ya." He smiled and stopped walking for a minute. "Names Larky by tha way." He tipped his hat, in a show of mock formality.

The boy then turned and was about to lead on when he saw them. "Oi," He said in a harsh whisper. "Feds." He pointed. Indeed there were two alliance feds walking together toward them. Larky grabbed Jack's shirt. "Viss way Jack." He yanked him into an alley.

"Sorry bout vat, moi face aint ezzactly the most popular. But what are the feds doin 'ere?"

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack was quickly growing suspicious, especially when he realized how much the kid had been paid, but he just nodded and walked along. "Larky." Watching this kid was like looking into a mirror and losing fourteen years. He tipped his hat back at him. "If this all works out, Larky, you come see Trigger, yeah? I'll give you jobs an' a roof over your 'ead." His eyes roamed the darkness, and he was relieved to see the shadows of a couple of people following at a distance. When he looked, one rose a right hand, the other a left. Their signal. These were his men. While, one man and one woman, by the looks of their silhouettes.

Reassured, he squared his shoulders and faced front. When he saw the Alliance officers walking towards him, he allowed the kid to pull him into the alley. The people following him would move to the alley adjacent, he knew, and would attempt to circle around to the other end of the one Jack had been pulled down. Firmly placing his back against the wall of the alley, Jack glanced down at the Larky's. "Kid, I'm sure yo' face is not on the top o' their list 'tween the two of us." He glanced down the alley, alcohol-laced blood thudding in his ears. This was reckless, every bit of it, and he was just starting to understand that. "Larky, what's yo' friend's name?"

[Claudio Vinccino]

Larky looked up at Jack. "Weyll, oi gues you're right." He smiled. "You realleh want te give me a job?" The boy's face lit up. "Sounds great."

Across the street, in the shadows another scene was playing out. Trigger's two silent shadows were watching, when the sound of two guns being cocked was heard. About two meters behind them, two men in black combat gear held fancy rifles pointed at them. "Alright." One of them said softly. "Drop your hardware, and then cuff yourselves. And do it slowly and quietly." He slid two pairs of handcuffs across the ground with his boot. "And if you so much as twitch, my angel on the roof will put a bullet to you both before you even turn around." He smiled, although it wasn't visible under his masked face. "So move slow, huh?"

Larky moved a little closer to Jack, trying to get into the shadows as the feds walked past. Then he spoke softly, as he gestured for Jack to follow. "Well, 'e nevah told me 'is name." Larky shrugged as they moved deeper into the alleyway. "Just so'ta came to me. Needed sommit done, so oi did it. Seemed loike a decent fella'"

As they rounded the next corner, a man in black gear emerged behind them and approached silently. He struck Jack in the back. Even as the muffled blow fell, more men seemed to materialize from the shadow. All dressed the same, all well armed. Slight fluttering from above would alert the hyper acute to the presence of more on the roof. Three of them moved to restrain the man, while one snagged Larky. The boy tried to cry out, but the large hands of his captor kept him quiet.

There was a brief struggle, but then he went limp. As the silence returned, the prisoners from the other side of the street arrived. Escorted by their captors, guns trained on them. They were forced to their knees, next to Jack. Then another man emerged from the shadows. He approached from behind, his heavy walking cane clicking softly on the ground as he walked. He stopped a few feet behind the 3 prisoners. "Well." He chuckled, voice disguised under a gruff accent. "Look wha' we 'ave 'ere."

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack squeezed Larky's shoulder. "Sure, I do. You got guts, kid. An' street smarts, ta boot." He slid down the wall, keeping his back against it and attempting to stay in the shadows. One of his hands moved to the gun in the waistband of his pants, and he held the grip tightly. Sliding it out, he gently clicked of the safety. Ready, just in case.

When Danya and Alex were intercepted, Danya slowly took out her gun by the grip in thumb and forefinger and lowered it to the ground. Holding up her hands, she gently stopped the skidding of the cuffs with one boot, then knelt to retrieve them. Alex clenched his jaw, hand flexing around the pistol, but in the end he copied his partner's motions. They cuffed themselves and stood up slowly, back to back. Danya's head hardly came to Alex's broad, dark shoulders, and she leaned her cheek against his back almost affectionately. Alex grimaced at the man in the mask. "Just who the rut are you, then?" he whispered.

Jack glanced down at the kid as he moved closer, then slid into the shadows even more. "Rule numba one, kid. Always get a name. Doesn't matter if it's real. You need someone ta blame when a job goes south, yeah?" He grunted lightly when Larky said the guys seemed a decent fellow, but did not say anything.

As he followed Larky around the corner, a shadowy movement caught his eye in front of the kid. Grabbing Larky by the shoulders, he pulled him close to his side and aimed his weapon at the shadow, but this movement pulled him away from the wall's cover. A man behind him struck him, and though Jack pulled the trigger, his shot went wild and lodged into a wall rather than one of the men.

He hit the ground on hands and knees, pain lancing up through this back from the attack. One of the men grabbed Larky, and Jack struggled to stand up, but three men were on him before he could make it to his feet. He fought and bit and struggled, but he couldn't get to the knife inside his vest and finally they held him still.

As Danya and Alex were dragged to him, Danya spitting curses in eloquent Chinese, Jack's heart dropped. He hoped there had been others, but his hopes were not strong. Tonight he had ventured out too far, had gotten too drunk. He only hoped he wouldn't get two of his crew killed, too. The cane tapping and the voice alerted him to another presence, a probably leader in this band of thugs. "Let 'em go," he said angrily to the mystery person behind him. "You want me, right? Let 'em go, an' the kid too."

[Claudio Vinccino]

Il Diablo chuckled softly at the demands. "Wha'?" He asked, enjoying the use of a fake accent. He loved deception. "Let 'em go, so vey can blab to yo' otha friens?" He laughed outright. "Not a chance mate."

"Bu' oi CAN say thes." He tapped his cane gently on Jack's shoulder. "As long as yew play noice, nobody gets killed." He glanced around at the situation, oh it felt good to be in charge. He moved out in front of Jack, shadows concealing his face. He had learned the hard way that keeping people guessing was far better. It was good to be cautious, especially when enjoying yourself. Jack here was a perfect example. Get drunk, get weak, get in trouble.

"So, trigga is it?" He said, standing over the man. "It would seem ya have a letta in yo' pocket. From a cert'n lady firend of yours." He emphasized lady, and it was obvious he knew of her profession. "Th' companion. Tell me wher' she is, and then I go me merry way. Easy as that." He paused for a moment. "But moind, get wise wiff me, and it won' be pretty." He looked over at Larky. "Or oi staht wiff the boy."

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack clenched his jaw and glanced sideways at Danya and Alex. There was no blame in there eyes, only fire and brimstone hatred for their captor. Jack tried to take heart at the sight. "Ah, you're obviously too smart fo' th'likes o'me, then. At leas' let the kid go. You know I don' even know 'im."

The cane tap on his shoulder make Jack grit his teeth. "I'll play nice," he hissed. He absolutely hated groveling and being condescended to. Ever since Minerva took power over Persephone, he'd been forced into that role with her, and now a man with a gorram cane had him on his knees. Jack was really starting to get used to the feeling of helplessness that came with being constantly downtrodden.

Jack lifted his head to stare up at the man doused in shadows, unable to discern any features whatsoever. He grunted frustratedly. "Yeah, I been known as Trigger in some circles..." At the mention of the letter, he tensed. Confusion drained the fight out of him for an instant. The letter. Sian. Where was she? Did this man hold her captive? Then, realization pumped hope back into his veins. This man wanted to know where she was. Sian had done the right thing, not telling him. They couldn't have beaten her location out of him even if she had, but printed on a paper? Anyone could have gotten that information.

He grinned up at the man, a skeletal, humorless grin. "Sian's more've a lady than you've ever known I'm sure." Aiming carefully, Jack reared back his head, preparing to spit on the man's shoes. "I ain't tellin' you nothin'." Before he spit, though, he heard the threat. His heart fell and he swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise. If it was only himself he had to worry about, they'd never break him. But a kid and a couple of his crew? "Alrigh'. Leave the kid alone. 'Ere...jus' take the letter, okay? It's in me front vest pocket, all balled up. You'll see I don' know a damn thing more'n you. I don' know where she is." His head lolled down a moment; he looked defeated. "Wha' do you want with 'er?"

[Claudio Vinccino]

Knowing his time was all but up, Claudio was pleased, if disappointed by how easily Jack had given up. He motioned, and the note was found, and taken. Then Claudio spoke. "So noble, aren't cha? Pity."

"Let 'im go." He said, indicating Larky. The boy was released and ran off into the darkness. Then il diablo turned his attention to Jack again. "It's been a pleasu' doin' business wiff ya." He paused for a moment, then. "Minerva gives 'er regards." He raised a hand, touching the brim of his hat. If what he knew was correct, that ought to grind the man's gears. But that was precisely what he wanted.

"Now, 'ave fun jacky. Run yo' little world an' what not. I'll just be payin yo' girl a visit. I'll give her yo' love." He stepped forward, "Sleep well." and brought the heavy end of the cane across Trigger, dropping him. He nodded, and the other captives were subdued in a similar manner. Then, as soon as the soldiers had appeared, they faded back into the shadows.

Claudio knelt next to the crumpled form of Jack, and muttered something in Italian, before dropping the key to the cuffs, and walking off. He exited the alleyway, and proceeded to walk nonchalantly into the night. As he walked, a man fell into step beside him. Claudio glanced over. "You know what to do. Have him followed, carefully. He'll lead us right to her."

His companion moved away, and the well dressed gentleman simply melted into the night as he walked down the street. His haunting whistle could be heard, echoing.

[Larky]

[[Couldn't resist....]]

[Later]

Larky crept back to the alley, his dirty face streaked with the tracks of tears. He felt awful, he had been betrayed, and in the process he had brought someone else into danger. In his mind, he saw the bodies, lying in blood. But as he came within sight of the scene, he picked up the pace. Jack was lying there, as were his companions. The other man was nowhere in sight.

"Mistah Jack." He said, through a choked throat. "Mistah Jack, please wake up." He shook the man's shoulder. He was kneeling in front of the man, and felt the tears coming again. "Oi didn' mean ta get ya hurt..." He broke down, "Oi'm sorry..." He slumped, and cried.

He was so distraught, that he didn't notice as the man began to stir.

[Jack "Trigger" Briggs]

Jack glared up at Claudio, teeth grit against a retort. When Larky was released, Jack breathed out slightly, relieved that at least the kid was safe. At the man's words about Minerva, Jack's face grew puzzled. This type of thing didn't seem Colt's modus operandi. He was used to being humiliated by her while she watched, not dragged down in a dark alley by her thugs. "Who are you?" he muttered, cocking his head.

His next words caused Jack to growl out a few choice curses. He hated being called Jacky, and the mention of Sian enraged him. "If you lay even one finger on 'er, I will find ya an' I will-" Claudio was clearly not interested in seeing what Jack would do. He hit him, and Jack watched the asphalt rise to meet him before he blacked out.

Briggs hit the ground face-first, busting his lip.

*

It seemed like no time at all had passed when Jack awoke. He had a screaming headache, and there was blood crusted on his chin from his split lip. When he tried to sit up, his head spun. The head injury and the alcohol he had consumed caused him to be dizzy and nauseous, and he leaned over as much as the cuffs would allow, dry-heaving.

Mouth tasting of bile, he glanced up to see Larky crying. Jack began muttering a comforting litany of nonsense until he realized he was speaking. He cleared his throat and spoke up. "'ey. Kid. Quit yo' blatherin'. S'alright, yeah?" Sitting with one leg out, he gently touched the closer Danya with his foot. "Oi. Get up, luv. Wakey wakey, eggs'n'bakey." Danya did not stir, yet, and Alex looked just as out as she. Jack sighed. "Kid. I need 'elp, right? I need ta get these cuffs off an' I need ta get my people back 'ome. Can I count on ya?" He tried to give him a serious look, but he ended up just looking exhausted.