"Doffy, you've gotta let me do something about that damn girl."
He turned, spotting Diamante walking towards his chair. He smiled, setting down the tumbler of whiskey onto the small side table beside his seat.
"Why is that?"
"She's been crying and whimpering for the past three hours and it's getting on my nerves. The pictures should be enough to bring him here, right? Let's just kill her now and save us a headache later." He said nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Doflamingo contemplated the idea. They'd already set the plan in motion. After everything that had happened in the past few weeks, he'd decided to take care of this one himself. Law was obviously more crafty than he remembered him being, and Joker was getting tired of losing precious subordinates. He was losing footing in many areas of his network.
In truth, this had been partially his fault. He'd underestimated the brat. Law had gone out of his way to take bold risks and reap the rewards. He had hidden the girl early on, and Doflamingo hadn't been able to find her until now. If it hadn't been for Viola's prostitute network posted around the city, it was likely that he may never have.
Not to mention, Law had used a great deal of the favors that he himself had intended to work to his advantage. There was little value in using Law for the intentions he'd first had. Actually, he had little use at all now. But he'd defied Joker one too many times. Harmed or killed one too many of his people. He couldn't just let that go and cut his losses.
The whole thing was looking grim. But in the end, he'd come out just fine. With the girl in his possession there was little risk of Law defying him now. She was the only reason he was resisting that Joker could tell.
So, he supposed there wasn't a whole lot of use in keeping her alive now. She'd served her purpose. But, another thought popped into his head. Law, beaten and bloodied, lying helplessly on the ground as he's forced to watch her skinned alive or something equally terrifying. Surely that would suck the fight right out of the brat, and serve as a brutal reminder to the rest of his network. After the losses they had taken, he feared betrayal throughout his operations. He'd need as much control of the situation as possible, and word of the girl's brutal death may help with that.
"Keep her alive. For now. But find her a soundproof place to shut her up." He dictated, mind already somewhere else, pondering his thoughts.
"Alright, if you're sure." Diamante said, turning and walking back the way he'd come.
Hitomi couldn't think of any other case before that had played out as perfectly as this one did. Vergo's miraculous and unexpectedly quick arrest had reached her ears the morning after the entire incident hit the news. There was no way to miss it. It was reported across several channels.
The whole city's news media stations were covering the event. Dozens of reporters had visited the site of what they were calling the 'Marshall Terrace Massacre', each providing a little more information than the last as the investigation continued. Time was the law's biggest enemy, but there was a surprising amount of evidence to be collected at the crime scene.
The first reports of casualties placed 8 police offers wounded or killed. That turned into 3 wounded and 5 dead after several had succumbed to their injuries. A memorial service was schedule for the weekend for the grieving families and community members who supported the servicemen.
On top of that, 17 additional casualties of the people who'd been inside the drug den had been counted. Most had ties to one gang or another, with the rest sporting long and comprehensive criminal records that had somehow gone under the radar until now. Local residents were torn in terms of emotions. They were glad these people were off the streets, but the number of lives lost to do so was disheartening.
Hitomi could guess that the community, after hearing the grisly details of what exactly the drug den had contained, would push for the police department to do more in terms of cleaning up the city. There'd be legislature proposed for new bills, new procedures, and new movements to better protect its citizens. But ultimately she didn't see any substantial change happening anytime soon. It was how things always went.
The dozen or so criminals they had managed to arrest in the den had been scattered to the surrounding state courts that had jurisdiction. The most they could be charged with was possession of illegal substances, unless they had some previous violation or warrant out for them.
The only one she cared about was Vergo. Because of the location of his arrest, it would normally fall into the state's district for prosecution. But due to the nature of his crimes and the evidence that Hitomi had provided to file for his warrant, Hitomi and the federal district wanted their hands on it. Both state and federal courts had reason to prosecute the guy, but ultimately it would fall to her, being the filing lawyer.
Now, her next step was to ensure that he was denied bail. She was willing to bet that if he were allowed to be released from custody until his first court appearance, they'd never get their hands on him again. She knew the judge and worked with him frequently. He was fair, but stern. Hopefully he was also reasonable enough to see the danger in letting him go.
She had yet to tell Zoro or Soma of the news. This didn't involve them. At least, that's what she told herself. In Soma's case, he didn't need a reminder of his terrifying night. Zoro, well, she just wanted to make sure this case was water tight before she went saying anything.
To botch something now would mean travesty. Vergo had a very good lawyer, as she'd met him the day after he was arrested. The man was taciturn and all business, not the fallible ones she'd dealt with on occasion. No, Hitomi could spot a paragraph jockey when she saw one, and this man, Mr. Lucci, was just that.
Her every step, every word, and every action would be watched closely for any possible violation to Vergo's rights. He'd get the case thrown out the second something goes amiss. The very moment he even sniffs out some sort of slight against his client. It was ridiculous and in most cases was insignificant little mistakes made on the lawyer's part, but the laws were the law, and any violation of rights meant the whole case was in jeopardy.
Hitomi had been around the block a few times now, and she had dealt with men like him before. It was a battle of protocol and wits, and she most assuredly up for the challenge.
It was the strangest thing. One moment, the bartender was positive he had eyes on him every step he took throughout the city. There wasn't an inch of open air he felt comfortable in, always looking for the sniper on the roof or the attacker in the shadows of the passing alleys. Each approaching pedestrian on the sidewalks could be a potential attacker, and Law was always on alert. It was exhausting and draining but necessary.
And then suddenly…nothing. No feeling of being watched. No cars parked at suspicious locations. And each time he turned his head to look behind him, no one was following. He'd risked a trip to the nearest gas station out in broad daylight simply because he was running out of food. Otherwise he wouldn't have even attempted it. But something just felt…off.
For the first time since leaving Kidd's apartment, or since hearing from Vergo after all those years, Law felt…safe.
He didn't like it, as much as it should have put him at ease. Was Joker letting off the pressure? Why? It didn't make sense, and nothing Law could come up with fit in with the circumstances.
Law paid for his items and walked out of the gas station with his groceries in hand, always keeping an ear out for out of place noises. Car horns. People talking. Footsteps against the concrete. Engines purring. Machinery further off towards the main city. Children calling for parents. Cell phones ringing.
Nothing that was meant to put him on edge.
The walk back to his hideout was tense, brisk, and mechanical. One step after the other, eyes glancing to either side, head on a swivel. Law tried to keep it as inconspicuous as possible. Freaking the general public out with strange behavior wouldn't do him any favors, and certainly backfire in the long run.
Two streets away. Then one. Law had only to cross the intersection and be home free. Bags of food in hand, he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet as he waited for the crosswalk signal to change. Another few people waited with him. Law made sure his back wasn't to them.
Finally, the sign changed, and all four of them began walking across. He kept to the back, an eye on each of them, just in case. They all turned to go right once making it to the other side of the street. Good. He turned left, leaving them behind.
His hideout was nothing more than a small workshop at an abandoned car repair shop, closed down long ago due to a declining economy. He'd made a makeshift bed out of some blankets and pillows, and kept as warm as possible. Luckily there was no shortage of space heaters around. The workers before must have gotten cold in here often.
Law wandered to the back of the building where he'd created his entrance in, a hole in one of the boarded up windows. He stopped, seeing a white envelope nailed to the board. It was blank. No name or writing at all. It gave him a sick feeling, but he grabbed it from the nail regardless, then stepped inside his hideout.
There weren't any contacts out gathering information for him. There should be nothing he was expecting to receive. Who did this envelope come from? Law put the back of groceries down on the mini fridge that no longer worked. It was the clearest surface of all the tables in here.
He sat on his makeshift bed and tore open the envelope's top, pulling out the small stack of paper inside. Pictures, of course. Predictable. But the first image made his heart stop, clench tightly in his chest, and he held it closer to his face to see if it really pictured what he'd just thought it did.
Summer was chained to some sort of metal object, mouth duct taped, feet bound together with zip ties. His thumb trailed the edge of the photo, at a loss. He'd tried his damndest to make sure she wasn't dragged into all of this, but it had failed in the end.
He suddenly feared for his friends' safety, and dragged his phone out to call them. Penguin's was off or dead, and Shachi didn't answer. Another clutch at his heart. They wouldn't have let anyone take her if they had any say about it. Which could only mean he had to assume the worst. His two friends. So eager to help him. They had suffered too. All because he was friends with them.
Too many people he was close to had unwittingly been harmed because of knowing him. Was his very existence that much of a black stain on the rest of the population? Or maybe his bad luck was just following him from the moment his family was killed, waiting for the perfect opportunity to mess things up for him. Again and again.
He flipped to the next picture, this time with a phone number written on the bottom. It was a familiar building. How could he forget it? Baby 5 had been brutally murdered there. Some of his worst memories stemmed from that building. It would be seared in his brain forever.
With stiff movements, he dialed the number listed and numbly held it to his ear as it rang. He honestly didn't know what he was feeling. Fear, of course. Pain. Anger, swirling somewhere in there below the rest. He just didn't know what to do with the emotions. How to direct them in a way that would aid him.
The phone rang three times before it cut short, answered by a familiar voice.
"Do you know how easy it would have been to have just killed you when I first found you?" The man asked warmly, as if he was remembering fond memories. "You were certainly asking for it, but I saw something valuable in you, Law. And in that moment it seems I set the course for my own sabotage years later."
"Is she alive?" Was all he wanted to know, staring at the picture of Summer chained up. Another beneath that showed her dangling by the arms in chains. She looked dirty and haggard and terrified, the glisten of tears trailing down her cheeks as she cried. It hurt to look at.
"If not for me, you would have certainly been dead anyway. Someone else would have done the job."
"Is she alive?" He repeated with more heat, tired of these stupid games.
A low chuckle, followed by a sigh. There was a shuffling sound somewhere, before something ripped, and he could hear her, crying and sobbing and sniffling. He swallowed, holding back the urge to scream in rage.
"Why not say something to him, dear? I'm sure it's been some time since you last saw each other. You must have so much to talk about." Was his amused request.
Summer continued crying, choking back as much as she could to calm down. "Law…" She finally said in a broken voice. "…I'm scared…"
"I know." He said in a surprisingly calm voice. As if trying to show her that he was not worried. What a lie. "I'm sorry…"
Summer's cries turned into muffled sobs, and Law guessed the duct tape had been put on her mouth again. "Go there at 8 tonight if you ever want to see her again."
The line went dead, and Law cancelled the call, letting the phone drop from his fingers onto the blanket beside him. For once, his mind wasn't racing to try to find a course of action.
He had no idea what to do.
Shachi's head snapped up when he heard the hospital bed's sheets rustle just a bit. He'd been here several hours now and this was the first sign of consciousness that he'd seen from the patient beside him. A long ache shot down his spine. The hospital chair was becoming uncomfortable but he wasn't about to leave his friend's side over a little back pain.
Penguin blinked blearily in front of him, hand dragging over to his chest. Taking stock of his injuries, perhaps. His movement was slow and sluggish, his body no doubt still full of the pain medications that the doctors and nurses had administered. The mechanic had no idea the sort of pain his friend must be in. He'd never been shot at before.
Not wanting to startle him, Shachi let his friend take the time he needed to take in his surroundings at his own pace, slowly panning his gaze from left to right until he spotted the seated person. His eyes blinked a few more times, trying to clear his vision, maybe.
"How are you feeling?" Shachi asked quietly.
Penguin groaned, his shoulders shifting in discomfort. Hospital beds were all well and good until you actually were awake. "Like shit." He grumbled.
His friend tried cheering him up a bit. "Well you've always looked like shit, so…"
That earned him a stale smile. "Who the hell shot me?" Was his next question, eyes closing sleepily. "Wasn't no pizza man…"
Shachi shrugged. "I don't know. I came home and found you on the floor in a pool of blood, so I called the police. They didn't find anybody in the area." Shachi let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head in bewilderment. "You were this close to dying, man. You lost a lot of blood."
Penguin let out a huffed breath, his best attempt at a laugh considering his condition. "Good thing I'm a universal recipient blood type."
"What even happened? Do you remember anything?" Shachi asked curiously, knowing he wouldn't be too thrilled to talk directly to the police. Chances were, they'd want to ask their own questions later. But right now it was just the two of them.
"I remember everything. Well…as much as I was conscious for." He admitted, shaking his head. "I answered the door and the guy was dressed like a pizza delivery man. Then he held up a gun and shot me in the chest."
He winced, as if reliving that moment. "I hit the ground and dragged myself to my phone. Then called 911. The guy shot my phone and left after that."
"He didn't say anything?"
"No." He said, frowning suddenly as one thought came to mind. It was a sobering one. "…he took her." He said without preamble. There was no need to name exactly who. They both knew.
Shachi nodded. "Yeah…" There wasn't much else to add to that.
Penguin clenched his hand into as tight a fist as he could manage. "It's my fucking fault-"
"You know full well it isn't." Shachi stopped him, knowing that he probably felt guilty for having been the one there with her when it all went down. Had their places been switched, Shachi could guarantee he'd be feeling the same thing. But that didn't mean he was going to let Penguin get away with it. "There wasn't anything you could've done."
"I answered the damn door." He growled, still not forgiving himself so easily.
Shachi shook his head. "He would have bashed it down anyway. Now stop saying shit like that."
Penguin only shook his head mutely. The situation couldn't be worse. One of them was shot. Summer was missing. And the worst part was that Law didn't even know about it. Neither one of them wanted to be the one to make that phone call.
For awhile they both just sat there. The steady beating of the monitoring machine hooked up to Penguin's vitals measured their silence in a repeated pattern. Medical staff could be heard bustling around the hallway outside the door, talking quietly. The general noise of a hospital and the distant sound of a neighboring patient's tv made up the background sounds.
Both of them wondered to themselves how things had gotten to be this bad. Neither understood how they'd been found. And one couldn't let go of the guilt that now cut him to the bone, terrified of facing his best friend again.
ns 15.158.61.46da2
