John Reese (
primary_asset) wrote2018-05-11 09:19 pm
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There's been an uptick in gang activity around one particular area of the city in recent weeks and while Detective John Riley can only do so much when it comes to fighting back, John Reese, accompanied by his wonderfully proficient friend Dutch, is capable of doing so much more.
The restaurant they're currently in is upscale, one of the nicer places John has been since his arrival in Darrow. The people at the tables around them have money, he can see it in every move they make, in every word they say, and John had told Dutch to dress the part and she certainly hadn't let him down. They're here as if they're on a date, both of them looking quite impressive if he does say so himself, but he also knows they're both armed to the teeth.
And they're both going to need to be. There's nothing at all John has seen here tonight that will lead to legitimate arrests, but he's heard enough in passing conversation to know there are two men in particular they just can't let go. Neither of them are particularly well connected, which means teaching them a lesson isn't going to backfire on them, but they're both despicable enough that they can't be left untouched.
John is sure Dutch would be inclined to agree.
He smiles at her over the table and nods toward the empty bottle of wine. It's nothing more than a prop, they're both on the same glass they'd started dinner with and John's had barely two sips, but he picks the glass up and gestures with it every so often, giving the impression that he's been drinking. No one looks at them more than once and if they do, it tends to be appreciative more than anything.
"The pair sitting over there near the door," he says, flashing Dutch another smile. "We're going to need to leave not long after they do. I think they need our attention."
The restaurant they're currently in is upscale, one of the nicer places John has been since his arrival in Darrow. The people at the tables around them have money, he can see it in every move they make, in every word they say, and John had told Dutch to dress the part and she certainly hadn't let him down. They're here as if they're on a date, both of them looking quite impressive if he does say so himself, but he also knows they're both armed to the teeth.
And they're both going to need to be. There's nothing at all John has seen here tonight that will lead to legitimate arrests, but he's heard enough in passing conversation to know there are two men in particular they just can't let go. Neither of them are particularly well connected, which means teaching them a lesson isn't going to backfire on them, but they're both despicable enough that they can't be left untouched.
John is sure Dutch would be inclined to agree.
He smiles at her over the table and nods toward the empty bottle of wine. It's nothing more than a prop, they're both on the same glass they'd started dinner with and John's had barely two sips, but he picks the glass up and gestures with it every so often, giving the impression that he's been drinking. No one looks at them more than once and if they do, it tends to be appreciative more than anything.
"The pair sitting over there near the door," he says, flashing Dutch another smile. "We're going to need to leave not long after they do. I think they need our attention."
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When the other man turns, Dutch grabs him by the back of the neck and brings her leg up, slamming his nose down hard enough against her knee that blood immediately starts flowing. She grabs him by the collar and shoves him backwards, stalking him like a predator.
"You're looking a little rough," Dutch croons before slamming the heel of her boot against his stomach.
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Dutch had been in danger and he'd employed his favourite method of ending that danger. He doesn't need to keep his gun out for anything else.
He steps forward, delivers one hard kick to the face of the man Dutch had hit with her gun and he goes down again. For good this time, by the looks of it.
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"Well, his dancing days are over," she says, slightly amused. She doesn't let the man underneath her up while she turns her attention to the two women. The scene is momentarily neutralized and she wants to check on them.
"Hey, we're here to help you," Dutch promises, tone soft. "Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?"
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"Help them," he says to Dutch. "Get them an ambulance, I'll restrain the men."
And then they'll need to get out of here before the police or paramedics arrive. He doesn't think he needs to say that, he thinks Dutch will reach that conclusion easily on her own, but he catches and holds her gaze for just a moment anyway. Tonight he's not here as Detective John Riley. He's not even here as John Reese. Tonight he's the Man in the Suit again and he finds it's a role he's missed. He can do more good under the radar.
But he also can't be caught.
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"Come on," she coaxes, gesturing them towards her. "Come with me. Let's get out of here. You don't need to see this anymore. Let's go outside and get some fresh air and get you some medical attention."
It takes a little more persuasion for them to finally move but when they do, Dutch wraps her arms around the both of them and leads them outside. She tucks them against one of the walls and then uses her phone to call for medical help, not using any names as she does.
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For now, though, he can focus. He smiles grimly at the men who are still conscious and then begins a slow inspection of the room they're in. He keeps his gun trained on them as he goes and none of them have moved by the time he's found enough rope to tie them up and although there are a few protests, he gets them tied up with relative ease.
"Smart decision," he says as he surveys his work. "I could get her back in here in a second."
And with that said, with the men restrained, he heads out to meet Dutch.
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When she spots John, she half smiles and excuses herself from the two women but doesn't go far.
"Everything okay in there?"
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It's cowardly of him, but he's not sure he wants to know.
"An ambulance is on the way?" he asks. He can't hear the sirens yet, but once they start up, they'll need to leave. The women will be safe, the men really won't be going anywhere, and they'll be arrested and prosecuted. They've seen his face, so he'll have to keep his distance from the case, but he'll look in on it from time to time.
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It doesn't exactly settle them but it's enough that they nod and cling to each other for support.
"We can go at anytime," Dutch says, nodding. "They're all right."
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It's a strange feeling, moments like these. They have to walk away from it in order to be able to continue to help people, but he still always feels like he should be doing more. There's nothing else, though, nothing that won't result in both of them being arrested, so he takes a step back, away from the women, then turns his back on them.
He's turned his back on a lot of people. It never feels good.
"I'm glad you were with me," he says to Dutch, his voice low.
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"No scrapes or scratches?" Dutch asks, looking over at him. "No need to make a stop at the hospital for either of us?"
It had been a pretty cut and dry operation. The two men had obviously not been prepared for them which had given them the advantage. It could have been a different story if those two men were a little more well trained but they'd gotten lucky and been stuck with two idiots.
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He thinks she is. She had been quick and efficient, doing what was necessary with ease. She's better than Kara ever was and that thought gives him an odd sense of pride that he's not sure he completely understands. It's the idea, maybe, that he's found himself friends with people who can still do what Kara did without turning as twisted as she had. Dutch is a good person, a loyal friend, and while he'd trusted Kara, too, he knows he won't find himself on the wrong end of Dutch's gun.
Not unless he's done something to deserve it.
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There were plenty of good men especially in Darrow but for one good man, there were five bad ones. For all the people like herself who got lucky to find such good men, there were people like the women they'd just left who'd been hurt.
"It's just disheartening," Dutch says, sighing. "I know I can't change all men but I just wish things like this wouldn't happen."
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"It's something I feel very strongly about," he says, although he knows it might come as a surprise to most people that he feels strongly about anything. "The woman I... her name was Jessica and we were together until I decided to stay with the CIA. The man she ended up marrying instead of me was- he abused her and then killed her."
Ever since then, he's had an especially difficult time dealing with men who commit violence against women. He hates that it had taken a personal experience for him to become so invested, but at least he's here now.
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Her stomach turns the tiniest bit as she remembers her own experience with something like that. It's not the same, not really, because there had been an out of his control excuse behind it but it's still not something she can readily forgive.
"It happened once to me. Just once because I refused to let him close after that," she says, jaw tight. "Something had been done to him to cause him to...snap but I still can't trust him. Not after that."
Maybe some day she and D'av will be back to a spot where they can be friends. She's just not sure.
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"We can make a difference, though," he says as they walk. They don't hurry, which would only draw attention to them, but the act they'd been engaged in earlier has been dropped. "Even if it's just bit by bit."
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"I appreciate you letting me come along on this job," she tells him, nodding. "It was good to be able to feel like I could help. And it was nice to be able to break a few bones again."
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Jessica is the only thing he thinks he would undo.
"Let's go out more often," he suggests. "You make a very proficient fake date."
And there aren't many people he's as comfortable with as he is Dutch. They work well together, they fight well together, and in a pinch he would trust her to have his back. There's a lot to be said about that sort of trust.