Liquid Cool

by Austin Dragon

  Exe was one of those natural story-teller personalities. They could sit and entrance you with a tale for hours, and you wouldn’t once look at a timepiece.

  “I remember saying ‘shoot him.’ I was very disturbed by my feelings, later on. Spit, curse, then spit and curse again. This big, burly crew-cut cop told me, ‘Oh, it’s nothing. People do that all the time. Would we talk that way to the public? Never, even if we were in a rotten mood. The disrespect is all one way. Towards us. But we see it as a game. Their one time to feel as if they have power over the system; talking crap to us, because we’re the only part of the system that they can do that to and get away with it.’ Wow, I said. Someone spat at me or called me a name, I’d beat them ugly, no matter how many cameras were watching. At that moment, I realized what my late mum meant by her crack, all those years ago, when she started calling me 9-1-1, when I first joined the Citizen’s Police Oversight Commission, which became the Police Watch Commission. I was a rabble-rouser, back then. I had an afro to the sky, and I was going to get those police brutality, po-lice goose-steppin’, black booters. You think you know so much from outside of the system, but then, you get inside, and you see things how they really are. My late mum didn’t think I would become a sell-out. But she knew, long before I did, what would happen. You sit there in the Watch Room, hour after hour, day after day, and year after year. You see what they have to go through on the streets to protect the City. Someone, like me, never goes from not loving the people and the community, but after a while, you get to not liking a lot of them. The community and the police organized into one force. We merged into one entity. They weren’t the police anymore. They were my people, and I wouldn’t hesitate to protect every last one. And they would do the same for us. Cops say, ‘I got the community on my shoulder and watching my back.’

  “Wow. Metro Police were so violently opposed to body-cams and Police Watch. I remember. We thought we’d get assassinated. We were scared.” She laughed. “All our ‘Power to the People’ rhetoric, and we were actually hiding under our beds, because we were that scared. Now, we’ve gone full circle. The community says, “You low-life criminal punks better not mess with our cops, or we’ll stomp your teeth in and down to your ankles. Now the cops say, ‘We won’t go into the field on the streets, unless we’re body-cammed with the Police Watch watching our backs.’ Full-circle. Before us, nearly 100% of the police brutality cases against the City were settled unfavorably, because they knew, if any got to trial, the payout could be a thousand times more. Now? You have to go back thirty, forty years to find a police brutality case that got a penny. Actually, I think that was the actual settlement—one penny.” She laughed again.

  “The trial lawyers were also our very best friends, back then, and all for body-cams. Now, they hate our guts. Body-cams ended their gravy train forever. You gotta laugh. I remember when the trial lawyers tried to sue us—the Police Watch Commission—for encouraging police brutality. Us, the people.

  “You see, Mr. Cruz, I was one of those pioneers in creating this coalition of community and police against the criminals. The City is far from crime-free, and many parts are extremely dangerous, and there are plenty of gangs, psychos, and cartels out there. But, I was alive, back then, when you could have ten thousand murders in one weekend. The Average Joe and Jane can’t even imagine the level of violence on the streets, back then. We ended that all with our community coalition of the people and the cops. But all coalitions are fragile, as these past days have shown us. Police rioting, with people backing them up, against the Mayor and City Hall. We could even have a war—damn, we haven’t used that word in centuries—a war against Earth and Up-Top. That’s how it’s being spun. Accomplishments are oh so fragile. Mr. Cruz, that’s where we are. Run-Time told me what you said to him. Based on the look I got from the Police Union leader earlier today, it seems you’ve been sharing. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove you wrong; a couple of days is all I need, before you make up your mind. I have a legacy that I can’t bear to see shredded before my eyes and more importantly, if such a thing were to get out, and people were to believe it, the damage would be catastrophic to the city. It would be a return to those ten-thousand-killed-in-a-weekend days, trial lawyers getting the most vicious criminals off, victims and their families getting no justice, judges afraid to convict crime bosses, people refusing to serve on juries…”

  Exe had weaved a very, very bleak story for me. How was it I was in this situation? The fate of Metropolis was in my hands? I was a small-time, newbie private detective. How was this even happening? If I could have seen the future to this point, even with all my business cards printed, I would have chosen a different path. At least, I think I would have.

  “What do you say, Mr. Cruz?” she asked.

  “Are civilians allowed to visit the Watch Room?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Why don’t I see what goes on in this Watch Room and meet all your colleagues at the same time. We can shoot two birds with one laser.”

  “Excellent,” Exe said with a broad smile.

  Chapter 59

  Flash

  AS THE MICK ESCORTED me from Run-Time’s office—Run-Time and Exe remained behind to talk. I hoped they weren’t afraid of me. Not me, specifically, but what I could do. The only problem was I didn’t know what I would do. I was not pleased with the situation I found myself in.

  “Our limo is yours for the day,” The Mick said, when we exited the elevator capsule.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Who’s driving?”

  “Flash. I believe you know him.”

  I managed a smile, which I hadn’t done in, I couldn’t remember, how long. “Flash is good people. Thanks.”

  “You’re quite welcome. However Let It Ride Enterprises can help a friend.”

  I wasn’t sure if his use of the word “friend” had some special meaning. That’s what sucked about politics—people never meant what they said and were always playing an angle. However, I had to admit it was no different than dealing with anyone in Metropolis. “Everything is politics,” Run-Time once told me. Maybe that’s why I was content being a house mouse for so long in the Concrete Mama.

  Flash was waiting at a hoverlimo in their landing bay. He saw me and immediately opened a door for me. “Thanks, Flash.” I hopped in, and he closed the door. Flash was my main guy at Let It Ride. He had guarded my Pony so often that I requested him by name and arranged my own personal schedule for him whenever I ordered mobile hovercar security services.

  “They’ve moved you up to limo duty,” I said.

  He drove the hoverlimo out of the bay and, in moments, we were ascending into sky traffic. “I told them there was no way you were going to drive your vehicle anywhere with all this madness going on. I told them I was on permanent on-call status for you.”

  “I appreciate that, Flash.”

  “You’ve given me a lot of business, so this was the time to give back.”

  “What is the madness going on out there? I’ve tried to avoid as much news as possible.”

  “Do you know anything?”

  “Cops rioting around Metro Police One, and they have all walked off the job. The Police Chief met with top generals, and it ended in a shootout. Interpol spaceships are stationed above City Hall. Is that basically it?”

  “You got the main points, but there’s a lot more.”

  I leaned forward as I moved my hoverseat closer to his compartment. “You can never have too much street intel. How do you see the situation?”

  “I did something I never thought I’d do. I got my lady a piece of her own, and we’ve kept the kids home from school.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “It is. There’s no police. The entire 9-1-1 system is down.”

  “I just thought that buildings would band together and protect their own until the crisis is over.”

  “We’re banding together, but so are the gangs. They
’re consolidating to exploit the situation, so that means they’re killing each other. I have never seen the level of intra-gang violence going on. All of us, taxi drivers, are talking about it. A lot of us are not driving most of the city. Once the intra-gang violence is over, then the gang violence against us begins.”

  “This will all be over before that happens.”

  “Mr. Cruz, I’ve known you a long time, not as long as Mr. Run-Time, but a long time. I’ve never known you to be an optimist.”

  He was right. I wasn’t one. It made me realize that it wasn’t optimism; it was avoidance. I was the cause of all the chaos.

  “Mr. Cruz, can I be a bit forward with some advice. I never tell a client his business, but…”

  “Sure, why not. It’s the times we’re in.”

  “Mr. Cruz, I’m not passing judgment, but you started this chaos with that interview, and only you can bring us back to order. Only you. You may not want to hear that or accept it. You’re saying ‘Hey, I’m a private detective just scraping by in life,’ but you need to get wise to the reality fast, because a lot of other people already have.”

  “What others?”

  “The cops, the politicians. Up-Top. The gangs.”

  “The gangs?” I was nervous now. “Why would they care about me?”

  “They all know your name, Mr. Cruz.”

  “Yeah, but why would they care about me?”

  “Because you’re the only guy who can bring Metropolis back to order.”

  Now I was scared.

  “What do you think they’ll do?”

  “If I were them,” Flash said. “I’d kill you any way I could.”

  Chapter 60

  Monkey Baker

  I HAD THREE STOPS TO make. PJ was back at the real office, and apparently, we had both civilian and police security everywhere, so according to her, it was safe. She told me I had some “high-level” clients waiting. I didn’t know what “high-level” meant, and she wouldn’t tell me on the video-phone. Then I had to meet with the cops, courtesy of Wilford G. Jr. Then, it was to the Watch Room to meet the city’s Police Watch Commission.

  But there was a cloud over me. Would gangs really want to hurt me? I was in Flash’s hoverlimo. No one in the public knew I was inside, so at least, for the day, I would be safe. Then, Flash told me that the hoverlimo was bullet and laser-proof. Good.

  Flash and I realized that if we flew up in the hoverlimo and I got out, it wouldn’t take long for the media and everyone else to know how I was traveling around the city. Everyone was looking for my red Ford Pony, not a Let It Ride hoverlimo. We did a combat-drop two miles away—he dove above the ground, I jumped out with a black hooded slicker over my clothes, and he flew away.

  I walked through the rain towards my office with my head down and my hands in my pockets, but neither hand was empty. I had my main piece in my right hand and my back-up piece in the other. I had been shot at so many times, that I was betting on it happening today. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as nervous about walking through the streets with no bodyguards. It was raining hard, and I blended in with the crowds.

  Across from my office tower was another tower, fifty stories taller. I stood on the roof, wearing Punch Judy’s jetpack, started it up, and let it lift me up, hovering. I was up and over. On the roof of my building, I could see the army of sidewalk johnnies. One of them pointed at me as I flew near, and then they all were looking. I could tell they were Phishy’s people—all of them were wearing fedoras. Good grief! Now Phishy, the franchiser, would have everyone wearing my trademark fedora.

  I landed, removed the jetpack with their help, and quickly made it to the rooftop exits, with a bunch of johnnies following me.

  “They’re waiting,” she said as I walked through the door.

  “My high-level clients?”

  “Take advantage of the pandemonium. Get all the paying clients in now. I’ve been offering a free official Liquid Cool t-shirt for all new clients.”

  I threw the jetpack and my slicker on the floor. “I don’t want to hear about it. Take care of these for me.”

  My sidewalk johnny escorts were shooed out of the office by PJ as she closed the door. I walked in and opened my office door.

  Him!

  I instinctively drew my piece and pointed at his head. The seven other police officers around him drew their guns and pointed them at me.

  “No, boss!” PJ yelled. “This is your client!”

  “What? He’s my client?”

  “Yes.”

  I looked at him again.

  “Lower your weapons,” Police Chief Hub directed.

  His men complied, and I did the same.

  “I could have shot you!” I yelled.

  “I couldn’t say his name on the open video-phone,” PJ said. “He has the entire cop police force looking for him.”

  “And you invite him into my office?”

  “I didn’t invite. He came.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him to leave?”

  “He wouldn’t leave!”

  “Why didn’t you throw him out? You have two bionic arms. Use them!”

  I realized why she let him stay.

  “How much?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “How much did he pay?”

  “He paid the standard retainer, and I gave him a free T-shirt.”

  I threw up my hands.

  “Do I get to talk now?” Chief Hub asked.

  “I’m not talking to you, and I’m not going to even be seen with you.”

  “I think, if you let me talk, you will change your mind.”

  “Who are these other officers with you? I thought the rank-and-file want you in the meat morgue.”

  “They do, thanks to you. These are my sons.”

  “Your sons. You have seven sons.”

  “I do. All law enforcement.”

  “How lucky for you. Wait, weren’t you shot? They said you were in the hospital.”

  “I was shot, thanks to you. But it was a minor wound, and we used the incident to craft a cover story that was a lot worse, including I was bedridden, so I could move around freely.”

  “How’s your boss doing?” I asked with a sneer.

  “My boss isn’t doing too well either, thanks to you. But he’s not talking to me, and I’m not talking to him, ever since he brought in those Up-Top bottom-feeders. Am I going to be allowed to talk about what I came to talk about?”

  “Aren’t we talking?”

  “Not what I came to talk about.”

  “Then do so and leave. I have to go visit the widows and widowers of fallen cops.”

  “You’re a real jerk muncher!” one of his sons yelled, pointing at me. “My dad had nothing to do with police getting killed, you lying skell.”

  “I’m on the side of the cops. What about you?”

  Chief Hub held back his oldest son. “Stop it! All of you, wait in the hallway. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “He’s not worth it,” the son yelled. “Let him get killed.”

  “If he gets killed, then how will I clear my name? All people will remember is his lying prime-time interview.”

  Chief Hub pushed all his sons out of the offices and closed the door.

  “Who’s going to kill me?” I asked.

  “Yes, who?” PJ asked. “If it’s you, then I want my free T-shirt back.”

  “For such a clever guy, Mr. Cruz, you’re a dummy. You’re a marked man, Mr. Cruz. Metropolis is on the brink of collapse. Who wants that?”

  “Your Up-Top friends,” I answered.

  “They are not my friends! They’re the Mayor’s friends. Weren’t you listening? I’m not on speaking terms with the Mayor anymore. No, Mr. Cruz. The gangs want the chaos to continue, so they can carve up Metropolis into nice manageable slices. It’s the gangs.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that already. I’m already ahead of you, as usual, so you can go.”

  “No,” the Chief said and folded his arms
.

  “What? I told you to get out of my office.”

  “Mr. Cruz, I’m giving you 24-hour security until this crisis is over.”

  “What, you and your seven sons?”

  “My seven sons, me, and the cops from Internal Affairs.”

  I laughed. “Internal Affairs?”

  “They’re police, too.”

  “But police don’t think so. What are you trying to do? Ruin my rep with the real rank-and-file. No, I’m not taking any security from you.”

  “Then who? These sidewalk johnny jokers you have around you like flies? When the gangs come, what will they do? Throw a hat at them? None are armed. Gangs, Mr. Cruz, are.”

  “I’ll figure out something.”

  “What, you and your personal cyborg?”

  “My name is Punch Judy! And I’m about to punch you in the head, stupid man!”

  “You can go now,” I said to him.

  “You don’t seem to get it, Mr. Cruz. One of the top animal gangs in the city has a contract out on you.”

  “What?”

  “You know what a contract is?”

  “Stop being offensive. What are you talking about?”

  “Monkey Baker has a contract out on you. That means any—any gang member can collect on it.”

  “Who or what is Monkey Baker?”

  “I know you are quite familiar with his crime organization. Monkey Baker runs the Animal Farm Crime Syndicate.”

  “I thought—”

  “You thought Red Rabbit did, Mr. Cruz? The gang member you killed or left for dead. No, Mr. Cruz, he didn’t run it. You have no one to blame, but yourself. You went on national TV and announced to the world that one of the top leaders in his organization was on the payroll of the cops. In the gang world, that’s the same as saying he is, too. He has to kill you, or every gang will kill him.”

  I felt queasy in my stomach all of a sudden.

  “What’s it going to be, Mr. Cruz? You want to do your perp walk alone, or could you use police protection? I don’t care what you say, because we’re protecting you. You and I are shackled ankle-to-ankle from this moment forward, you punk. You think I’ll let you destroy 40 years of my police career without a fight? You will clear me in the eyes of my people.”