Anchorwoman Regina Phalange, Detective Georgiana 'Gigi' Darcy, Raina, Japanese Folks
Date: April 29. 2010
Heads roll. In more ways than one.
"Heads Will Roll"
The Harbour — NYC
Battery Park — NYC
The harbour is beautiful. It's still, the sun is setting, and the yellow police tape just adds to the ambience. The calm of the water is interrupted by the various police officers on site, attempting to get a statement from Regina Phalange who had found the body.
Earlier that Day
"I'm Regina Phalange broadcasting live on-location at New York City harbour." The blonde woman is smiling brightly at the camera in front of her. "As you can see, the harbour is abuzz with activity! With the fish festival taking place this weekend, fisherman are catching all they can — " at this point Phalange steps onto a boat and begins pulling a net of fish, yup, it's a news gimmick. Phalange is smiling bright as she does so until the net is out of the water, "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the scream is bloodcurdling. A human skull rests in the net.
Police came on site almost immediately. The area had been taped off from the public and a number of officers have spent time combing the area for evidence, all to no avail thus far. Detective Georgiana Darcy tugs at the bottom of her flack jacket; it's her first murder case that she's investigated. With her fancy new promotion the young-ish woman is all too uncomfortable.
A detective's car pulls up near the harbour, definitely not belonging to the new recruit. New, dark blue, and easily glanced past, it's not the slightly more … used vehicle Maggie used to drive around the city; it's definitely more above-board and cut out more for duty than nostalgia. Inside, after the vehicle comes to a halt, Detective Powers looks out through the windshield, past the crime scene tape, at the sunset, the water, the boats, the officers searching the area. One unbuckling of her seatbelt later, she has her phone to her ear. Start call. "Deja vu at the Harbour if you're out of crossword puzzles." End call.
The door slams behind her as the more experienced detective makes her way toward the crime scene tape — and over it — to look out over the scene. Her brown leather jacket unzipped over a grey t-shirt and darker blouse is hardly a flak jacket, but her badge can be seen clipped, prominently, to her belt. Her presence is one of tension, but confidence — she's not at ease with the harbour; she's at accustomed to murder investigations, and that's what shows the most. Maggie comes to a slow stop beside the younger woman, looks to her. "…Darcy, right? Detective. Congratulations on passing your exam," she says, the smile she gives fleeting but friendly. "I heard there was a skull, have they found anything else?"
"Yeah. Detective Darcy," Gigi manages with a very weak — nearly sick — smile. "Thanks. This is my first since I took it." Biting her lip she glances at Maggie, "Pretty much everyone saw the first skull. It was on freakin' live TV." She rolls her eyes, darned media types finding bodies! "We found another, couple of femurs, and a humerus so far." Yup, Detective Darcy is smart-ish with her bone names.
"I think there'll be more in short order. No flesh yet, probably eaten away by the fishes or entirely decomposed. Hard to come up with relative time of death because of it."
Grisly findings. Maggie's face reflects as much; it's grim as she turns her attention to one of the police boats in the harbour. Her hands go to the pockets of her jacket. "There's also no telling where they came from," she comments; while it's not a complaint, exactly, the fact is unfortunate. "Or who they are. Not likely. Not this early on." Stepping past Detective Darcy, she starts to head out toward where the harbour crew has the remains out of the water — not that she really wants to see it.
"True enough, they might have been from another precinct altogether," Gigi confirms with a nod as she falls into step with Maggie. "The ME will need to do a full report looking at the bones. Like I said, there's little we can tell right now."
The crew on the water are all decked out in scuba gear, scouring the bottom of the harbour for any more remains. One of the investigators gives Maggie a nod of acknowledgement. Pryce points to one of the skull — , "There's a bullet embedded in this one, Detective Powers. A kill shot."
Detective Darcy frowns, whatever happened, it obviously wasn't an accident.
Detective Darcy doesn't say anything Detective Powers isn't already ascertaining, but she seems to listen 100% on the way there, glancing to the new detective a few times attentively. She, too, frowns at the investigator, making a hard line with her mouth. "One with a kill shot adds up to murder," she says just as cheerlessly as the obvious statement ought to demand. "Two bodies usually equals planning." But that math is all the speculation she'll allow out loud until she has more details.
The surreal stillness of the locale, already tread all over by officers systematically searching for that one possible bit of evidence in the landscape and therein ruining it with their footprints, is further disturbed by a roar. At first distant, melding with the background noise of far off traffic and farther off boats, it grows until there can be no mistake as to the vehicle's destination.
Appearing as it swerves questionably close around the back bumper of a parked police car, the custom motorcycle is unabashedly green, the sharp angles of its build accented by the cut of darker greens and greys in the paint job. The noise switches as brakes hit, wheels spinning as the vehicle dips dangerously to the side in the slide that jerks it to a stop right before the waving yellow of the crime tape.
As the rider plants a foot to steady his bike, he reaches up to pull off the required-by-law helmet. Yet covered by a pair of tinted aviators, Laurie gazes over the official assembly of police and skeletons.
Gigi arches an eyebrow at Maggie's words before turning her attention to the motorcycle, "Riddle me this, who is unconventional, doesn't follow the books, and comes to a crime scene on a green motorbike? Must be the Riddler himself. Heya consultant fellow." She glances back towards the skull and as she does so, some scuba fellows come up from the water.
"We have two more!" one of them calls as he takes his breathing apparatus from his mouth.
"Two more what?" Gigi calls — they have a collection of various bones already so the diver is, in fact, being vague.
"Skulls, ma'am! Two more skulls!"
The vehicle certainly gets Maggie's attention — noise has its place here, what's distant is always threatening to get louder; this is New York. But a glance toward the roar earns a flashing glimpse of green, and she brings a hand up above her eyes, shielding the rays of the setting sun to witness the somehow unsurprising revelation that it's Laurie. "Do you always ride that thing?" she calls out.
Abruptly distracted by the call from the water, her head swings around. Two more? "This is going to be on the news for weeks." Said with a sigh. Maggie finds herself gazing around the Harbour, though her gaze is unlikely to uncover anything anyone else hasn't; she's simply thoughtful. "What condition are they in?" she directs toward the scuba diver.
"Heya, new fry," is called in return, a sunny smile from Laurie defiant of both the real one setting nearby and the gruesome scene piling up. What revelation may have been about the bike takes lesser precedence to the discovery of a larger field of victims. Leisurely pick his way to where the two women are, the consultant catches up on the sight around them. With the textured rip of velcro, he strips off one glove but keeps the other in order to reach for one of the first discovered skulls. Held in the style of Hamlet and poor Yorick, it eyes him back emptily.
"One has a bullet in it!" the scuba diver announces. "Still no flesh though!" He pulls another skull out of the water before being assisted climbing onboard. The skull is placed gently in an evidence kit and then handed over to Maggie. The fourth skull is brought up above the water by another diver who follows the same procedure.
"To be or not to be?" Gigi asks with an arched brow at Laurie. Turning back to the scuba diver she asks, "Can you tell us anything about the victims?"
"Not yet. Cause of death is likely the bullet to the head — at least for three of the vics. The other — we have no idea what the cause of death is. Maybe once we find the rest of the skeletons we'll know more."
"That … is the question — but you probably shouldn't be touching that…" Maggie points out, though her voice rather indifferent, not chastising — her focus is on the remains, contemplatively, including the part held in Laurie's hand. "…We don't know where your glove has been." Thought finished, she takes the evidence kit. Inside, protected, the skull is held much less dramatically. The detective's face is grim as she suggests: "Executions?" A glance shoots to Laurie, side-long; it barely lasts a second. "We could be looking at something gang-related."
"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer," the consultant chimes in, unheeding originally of Maggie's point, however spot-on. A somewhat careless seeming twist of his wrist and the valuable evidence pops into the air, spinning, and landing in palm the other way around. Tipping the facial section forward, Laurie lines up his other hand like a gun near the hole of this one. "… the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…" Twist, flip.
With a passing glance towards Maggie, he delicately replaces the skull with all due process and then removes his other glove, henceforth keeping his hands to himself. This minute. "Not with these fractures, not from this distance. When you execute someone," as if they'll be doing that tomorrow for sport, "they'll be close to you, physically helpless, left with nothing but knowing they're about to die." He shrugs. "But that isn't the only way gangs kill each other, of course. Some of them are rather creative."
Gigi purses her lips at Laurie. "Do you think they weren't killed via bullet? I know we'll need to find the rest of the skeletons — I recognize this is very important to determine the cause of death." She's new, but she's nobody's fool! With a heavy sigh she sends the scuba divers back into the water in an effort to find the rest of the bodies. "What are the chances that we'll find the rest of the skeletons?"
"In all honesty detective, in open water like this, we're luck to have found anything else. The bones could be anywhere — there could be more bodies than the three we've found. We'll comb the water, but they could already have washed up somewhere or washed away somewhere else."
Darcy frowns before shaking her head. "So essentially we have little to go on here?"
The consultant observation earns no words from Detective Powers, but it does earn a lengthy look of consideration — and more; she appears vaguely unsettled. It's Darcy she replies to. "We'll know more after CSU gets everything in the lab," she says to the newest detective with an injection of reassurance. "Right now it looks like it's just a waiting game." And a fishing game.
"Maybe someone got in their way." Maggie turns the evidence about in its plastic bag and studies its injury. Having had her fill of holding the evidence kit soon enough, she hands it off to the tech hovering near the other remains. "If the injuries wind up matching any known styles of gangs in the area at least we'll have that to go on. I'd be surprised if it's not at least related," she glances to Laurie and back to Gigi. She eyes the water, scattered by the police scavengers and scene markers, and folds her arms. "I don't want to think about what else it could be." Of course she will think about it; she has to.
"Right. I'll make sure the CSU team scours the area, while I look for possible witnesses," Gigi notes quickly. It's at this moment radios go off — bleeping with a 9-1-1 dispatcher. A call had been made to a dispatcher. 10-32 — BATTERY PARK, five units requested — shooting… PLEASE RESPOND….
Gigi turns to look at Maggie and Laurie, "A shooting in Battery Park?" Her eyebrows furrow as she paces towards her car. No, she's not a patrol car, but shootings equal murder. Murder equals detectives. Detectives equal her. And others. "I'll interview them later," she murmurs before disappearing into her vehicle.
No sooner does Detective Darcy run off than the phone of Detective Powers rings. It's quickly brought to her ear. "Detective Powers." There's a pause as she listens; she's already on the move as she answers. "I heard the dispatch. There's not much I can do here until we have more to work with. Yeah— it's not far. I'm on my way." Phone disappearing, Maggie looks over her shoulder to Laurie, and also past him, to skim this crime scene cautiously before she takes off to another. "Sorry Miles, I'm not giving you much to do today. I'm headed to Battery Park." Which she's sure he's figured out. "There should be witnesses." Her pace picks up; she jogs to her car. "Your call!"
Minutes Earlier in Battery Park
The sun is setting, but Battery Park still has some activity. It's smaller than Central Park, so it's quieter. Public, yet more private. Open, yet somewhat more closed. All-in-all it's an ideal space for people just wanting to enjoy a little quiet and get some fresh air. Or complete some business as the case may be.
A homeless-looking man sits on a park bench, trying to peddle his wares. His dark hair is capped with a grey colour beanie, his clothes are older, worn with holes in them, and his face is whiskery and unshaven. Aedan guards the box of bobblehead geisha dolls next to him. He's selling them. Good for him, making money in the park.
He has cohorts throughout the park, and several different people have stopped and bought the crappy-looking bobbleheads. A couple of kids expressed interest; he waved them along.
Shen had just finished some tai chi in one end of the park. Not the more martial variety, but the slo-mo, dancelike movements popular as a way of exercising in many places. The small group had just broken up, most of them speaking in soft mandarin as they head out of the park. Shen, on the other hand, stuffs her hands into her hoodie pockets and drifts through the park. As she draws near the homeless man and his bobble-heads she gives the geishas a long amused look.
A young boy is there at the park as well. Having been so quiet and bored and just plain lonely since Jamie left, he's taken to wandering a bit. Todays wanderings brought him to the park, used to going just about anywhere in the city and surrounding areas his feet would take him when he was homeless, so has no qualms about it now either. Having just escaped some bullies, his eyes red from tears, a shiner pretty much apparent too. He heads for a bench, not too far from where the homeless guy is, to just settle in and figure out what to tell Sydney, when he gets home. Since he was technically grounded.
Not far from where Aedan is sitting, Brayden lurks behind a tree. He peeks out every few minutes, but his job is just to watch his cohort's back. A glance is given to several of his other cohorts who are spread through the park. It seems like the operation is going down without a hitch; this is always a happy thing. With a smile, he returns to whittling a train-shaped whistle.
He arches an eyebrow at the kid on the bench near Aedan and the woman eyeing the geisha dolls. His eyes narrow just a little as he could never tell the difference between Japanese and Chinese people; this is a huge occupational hazard.
Shen looks up from the bobble-geishas that have amused her to glance at the boy on the bench. Her gaze lingers for a few moments on his face, noting the shiner and the unhappy look. Her shoulders twitch, rather than an actual shrug. Turning back to the homeless-looking man, she asks "How much are these?" Her voice is soft, though pitched so that the man can hear her. Maybe she'll pick one up as a joke gift for her cousin for Christmas.
The boy is apparently oblivious, that there are others here, much less that he's being watched. Though, he spots Shen and then the bobbleheads and kind of grins at them. Then the woman.. "Oh those look neat." forgetting his own woes. Trent rises and heads over, thinking he might get one for Syd. Or Hallis, not realizing what a geisha is.. other then it looks kinda pretty.
The class Shen was involved in had attracted a few watchers, curious people here and there with nowhere else to be. Among them, a young man — ambiguously Asian to some, Japanese to others — doesn't seem like the type to be that interested in a soothing exercise but, with his hands nearly melded into the front pockets of his jacket, hover he did for a good extent of the time. Maybe waiting on a relative…
But as the crowd breaks away, the man's face, shaded by the hat he wears, lifts for none of the leaving classmates. Instead, he turns in his own direction, picking up the path away from the grass with just a small detour towards an overflowing trash-can near another bench. His back to those eyeing geishas, he can only be seen to be moving his hands… but someone's smart enough to have put eyes elsewhere in the park.
A whistle rings out from some back corner in the trees, just enough to startle the Asian man so that, as he spins to face the homeless seller, his hand jerks to the side reflexively. One of the geisha dolls on the bench explodes with a BANG and a shatter, the bullet passing through and clipping the wooden bench beyond.
Aedan eyes Shen as suspiciously as Brayden does. "Uh… they're n'aught for sale 'nymore, luv," he replies easily with this Irish accent. "Gist closin' up shop fer the day." He glances at Raina, the woman on point today, on the other side of the park before reaching for his box of bobblehead geishas. He wants to take them with him — to disappear; they've sold enough for one day and he's garnering attention that he doesn't want.
"FUUUUUUUUUCK!" as the Bobblehead Geisha doll explodes, white powder falls throughout the box. Grasping the box, Aedan jumps over the bench and extracts his gun from his coat. BANG … BANG… the Asian has hidden behind a different tree.
Shen hadn't noticed the Japanese man at all. Not when he was watching, and not later. Busy at first with thoughts of trying to talk the homeless man into selling one more geisha, the exploding bobble shocks her into a jump and a quick girlish scream of surprise. Then it seems as if all hell is breaking loose, very close by. What else could a woman like her do but take to her heels, trying to get away from Aedan and under cover behind a tree. Hopefully a different one than the Japanese man whom she has yet to see.
The boy went to kneel down to look at the geisha closer, when it explodes right in front of him. The bullet whizzing past him.. his eyes grow huge and he falls backward on his backside, and then the Irish man is flying over the bench and more gunfire. Trent is ducking and covering his head now, trying to get out of the way of more flying bullets. But other then that, he can't move any more then that. Just hoping to will the bullets away from him.. he has no powers, but hopes it works anyway.
There is no more action yet from the tree the Japanese man who so suddenly destroyed the toy disappeared to … but he has cohorts nearby too, and they've been watching as well. They can't be seen, though — not by most of the park — but their bullets can be heard. And felt, in the reverberations after a shot fires and strikes the back of the bench.
Now that there have been two shots fired in Battery Park, people have started to notice and a few more than Shen scream. Mostly though, they just try to get the hell out of dodge and carry on with their day somewhere without gunshots.
Another shot, another. Someone's aiming for the apparent homeless peddler.
And Raina, girl-on-point.
Raina goes down — likely forever as these fellows don't shoot to injure, they shoot to kill.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck~" the Irishman virtually sings as he aims his gun at the source of the new bullets. "Calvert — I need some support here!" Yup, as usual Aedan is in a life-or-death situation. At least it's Thursday — 1/2 price pints at the — FOCUS. BANG. A shot is fired towards one of the trees.
A bike messenger doing his job through the park collapses. Who got him? There's no way to know. Not at this moment, anyways. Bullets are flying in every direction towards every direction.
Aedan's one saving grace is that he remains low to the ground and semi-protected by the bench, but it's not bullet proof; wood is NEVER bulletproof. BANG he fires again. This time managing to hit one of the Japanese rivals.
Brayden hasn't fired a single shot yet. He's taken out his gun and fires a single bullet that's directed towards one of the Japanese folks before kicking off the ground; he needs to do something about the bystanders. Hovering just an inch off the ground, he flies, low to the ground at an incredibly fast speed. He's aiming to move several of the bystanders if he can. If he does it right, they'll never know he rescued them. Maybe.
Shen found an unoccupied tree. Crouched behind it, she peers towards the geisha-seller-turned-gunman and tries to figure out where the other shooters are. It sounds as if there is more than one gun, to her. If she can find them, she can avoid them with some luck. Thoughts of escape come to a halt for the moment as she notices the boy sprawled on the ground too near the homeless man. She frowns, trying to figure out how to help the kid without risking her neck. She doesn't yet know there's other help on the way.
Trent tries to see if there is a way to escape. Lifting his head a little. Then rises to try to run.. but with his hip right now, he's not quite so fast. No longer limping but wen the angles of the leg are a bit off…. and one hits the boy in the right shoulder.. he cries out and is soon down. He was better off staying down. A hand gripping his shoulder, and just laying there in the patch of grass he just made it to.
Brayden's bullet embeds into a tree beside Shen. A young man skirts through the cover, crouching slightly as he walks, a gun held low at his side. Japanese; check. Brimmed hat pulled low; check. But it's a different young man than the first gang member. He steps to the right of Shen's hiding spot, stops, sees her — looks at her. Dark eyes full of warning, he points the gun at her. It's a threat. Stay there, make one wrong move, or be collateral damage.
Nearby, more shots fire at Aedan and the — presumably from the original shooter. One of them doesn't take out Aedan, but a man simultaneously hurrying away and using his cell phone, farther away than most bystanders. Not so lucky as anyone Brayden targets to help. He is most definitely disconnected from his call, collapsing. Caught in the crossfire? Purposeful? Either way, it suits the gang's needs. Their needs don't involve police, even if it's only a matter of time. By then, they plan to be gone.
Aedan fires another shot and then another and another as he moves towards the tree where he'd left Brayden hiding behind; he couldn't take the box of geishas with him — it's too risky. His eyebrows furrow once he reaches it (by sheer luck — seriously people, must be the LUCK OF THE IRISH!). "Calvert where the hell are you?" he murmurs as he hides behind the tree before firing another shot and reaching into his jacket and hitting a call button on his little walkie-talkie. It's time to get out of here. If he can. Maybe.
Shen ducks back behind the tree when the bullet hits. When some Japanese man steps nearby and points a gun at her, she freezes in place. Her gaze raises briefly to his and she manages a quick, shaky nod. Eyes widened, she holds very, very still. Despite the gunplay she doesn't look away from him, and the gun pointed directly at her. She even appears to be holding her breath.
Trent just lays there, holding his shoulder. Crying from the pain and trying not to move anymore as blood soaks his shirt. His eyes closing tightly from the pain. Unless he bleeds to death, this one isn't fatal, but he doesn't move anymore, because the next one very well could be.
There's a new quality to the caliber of bullets coming from one of the tree-barricades, and it's related to what the original shooter fished out of the garbage can. This person isn't firing on a rampage, or sending bullets into landmarks to be collected by evidence teams later. Gaze trained through a long steady scope, there's plenty of time to use the cover of everyone else's chaos to put a target into the hotspot of crosshairs. As soon as Aedan pops into view to take that shot— there's the slick shhht of a sniper bullet.
Meanwhile, he stare of the young woman seems to convince the Japanese gang member under the cover of the park's trees that she's too scared to be a problem. He glances out into the park and moves on with one more warning glance over his shoulder before he starts to take off through the tree trunks. This time with less stealth and more foot-pounding and breaking of branches.
Aedan doesn't know he's been targeted. He's wholly unaware, engaging in his ground warfare. He's focused on shooting others. He lets out a yelp as the bullet grazes his shoulder instead of hitting his neck — but the sound never really catches up to him.
As a kind of blur, Aedan disappears into the sky only because of a superfast flying man who was supposed to be hiding behind that tree.
Shen takes an exploratory breath as the Japanese leaves. When she isn't shot, she turns back to peer around the tree again. Not in the direction the man who just left took but towards the boy. Trying to decide whether Trent is alive or dead and to calm her shaking body enough to do something for the kid, she misses Aedan's departure completely. Deciding the boy still lives, her gaze moves on trying to come up with some way to help him.
Trent is still alive.. just still, crying and worrying about wether he'll live to see his guardian again, and if he does, she might just kill him instead. "Syd.." he whispers, as if she could possibly hear him from wherever she's at.
In the distance sirens can be heard. Ambulance and police are on their way. This causes the remaining Japanese men to disappear, but not before taking the box of Bobblehead Geishas with them.
There's an eerie silence over the park. In moments the ambulance and police will arrive, but for now, it's quiet in comparison to what it had been only seconds before.
Shen cheers silently at the sounds of sirens. Since it seems the gunmen have all taken off by now she stands and runs over to Trent. "You'll be alright. They're coming." she says as she crouches next to the crying boy. Not much for treating wounds, just sits there, alternately comforting the kid till the cops come and swearing at japanese criminals in rapid-fire cantonese.
Trent just lays there, hearing someone speaking to him, his eyes open some. "Mom's gonna be so mad at me." he murmurs. He seems more worried about her reaction then what happened. He hears the sirens, and just closes his eyes until they get to him.