Less than a month of trying to take care of her girls and Ashe had already lost someone.
That revelation hung heavy in her mind as she watched the early morning news. The police hadn’t been idle with her warnings, taking them well to heart. The police had no name to go with the face, the picture being shared was the very one that Ashe had snapped out front of the school. That much had been expected of the incompetent investigators that Jericho employed.
What hadn’t been expected was Lily being identified as a barely eighteen year old runaway. Ashe’s stomach roiled at that discovery, knowing that she had been working the streets for the last four years since she ran away from an abusive home, that she found sex work as a teen to be preferable to abuse at home.
Just how many of the girls that she took in had similar stories? She didn’t want to dig into their pasts, but something told her that she would need to before someone accused her of employing minors. She’d need to make that a priority, before all of this blew up in her face. After she killed the fucker that dared harm one of her own.
They had nothing but a face, and the police were actively looking for him in connection to Lily’s murder. That he hadn’t come forward meant he had either left Jericho on the run, or he was hiding out somewhere he thought he was safe. No doubt there would be a warrant for his arrest within the next two days if there wasn’t already one. Unfortunately, odds were that he was being sheltered by the Patriots.
They would expect something like this to blow over within a few days, that nobody would care about some dead prostitute from a broken home. That thought alone pissed Ashe off more than anything else. The worst part of it, she probably wasn’t far off with her estimate. Par for the course when it came to Jericho.
“They found his truck,” Jessica announced.
Ashe turned, her hands dropping from where she had been propping her chin on the counter as she watched the news. Crystal and Keiko were currently scrolling through some of the known Patriot online hangouts for information, and she got stuck watching the local news. Brie and Caralina were talking with the other girls about what happened and what was going to happen and some of the changes going forward.
“Anything worth looking into?” Ashe asked.
“The truck already went through a crusher at the junkyard over in Rosewood,” Jessica said, holding up a phone that wasn’t her usual one. “The owner claims that the truck wasn’t on any lists when he ran it through.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Keiko muttered darkly.
“Oh shit,” Jessica said, hopping from her seat. “Brie got a hit on Socially Pure.”
Ashe blinked. “Isn’t that the Patriot run social media app?”
Jessica nodded. “Yeah, and apparently one of the guys in the Jericho group shared a picture that has our bastard in the background less than an hour ago.”
“Where at?” Crystal asked.
Jessica tapped away for a moment. “Eagle’s Landing over on Franklin.”
“Talk about on the nose naming,” Keiko said with a chuckle.
Ashe rolled her eyes and brought up the location on the laptop that the others had abandoned to check out the screenshots. It was probably the most thinly veiled Nazi bar she had ever seen, and that was saying something. And of course they offered a discount to any law enforcement or First Responders.
“I’m surprised his social media is public,” Crystal said as they looked through his posts.
Jessica shook her head. “It wasn’t. Brie used a dummy account with a hot blonde in the profile pic, he accepted the friend request right away.”
Keiko snorted, shaking her head. “Funny how that works.”
“Yeah,” Jessica said. “She’s bitching about how she had to see his shrimp dick pics and comment on them too, so you’re welcome. I bet she could convince him to meet up if he, maybe get some information that way?”
Ashe was hesitant to give that order, but options were thin at the moment and looking a gift horse in the mouth wasn’t something they could afford. They had a location, but would he still be there? Not likely, but that was one such lead they could explore while Brie worked her magic.
“Catfish the fuck out of him,” Ashe said, forcing down the rising bile. “Play up having to sneak away from daddy and everything. We know he likes them young, may as well take a page from the FBI playbook there.”
“Gross,” Jessica said. “Just know Brie’s gonna bitch after all this, and she’s sending me all of it so I share in the suffering.”
“Just message Rachel after,” Crystal said. “Maybe she’ll send you something to cleanse the pallet.”
Jessica looked away, her cheeks darkening. “We aren’t like that.” The three girls hummed. “We aren’t!”
“Whatever you say,” Ashe said. “You know we won’t judge here. Just see if you can get any pictures from the guy that might have location data. We’re gonna head towards the bar and see what turns up.”
“It’s a Patriot bar,” Keiko said. “We’ll be asking for trouble.”
Ashe turned, fixing Keiko with a flat glare.
“We’re looking for trouble,” Ashe said, her voice cold. “I’ll be disappointed if we don’t find any.”
“Just be careful,” Jessica said. “I’ve heard stories about this place while at Gray’s for dinner. The patrons aren’t the pleasant sort.”
“Neither are we,” Ashe answered, pulling on her mask. “Keep us updated.”
Jessica nodded and Ashe turned to depart, Crystal and Keiko falling in with her. It would be at least a twenty minute drive to the Eagle’s Landing, giving her plenty of time to think on how to best approach the coming confrontation. They were about to walk into the lion’s den, and she had to present herself in a way that offered no weakness.
For Lily.
----------------------------------------
The front door flew open, every patron at the bar turning at the sudden noise. Ashe was the first to enter, her head turning slowly to survey the scene. There was a man at a podium just past the front door, some sort of waiter for the dining area, and beyond it was a long bar with half a dozen people seated along it.
Stolen story; please report.
Those with visible skin had obvious tattoos denoting their allegiance to the Iron Patriots, from simple crosses of various complexity to the single swastika on full display. It dominated a bald man’s bicep, and he was right in the thick of things with the rest of them.
She wanted nothing more than to enact one of America’s oldest traditions and punch a damn Nazi. More than a few were inching their hands towards their coats, and the bartender was moving to set down the drink she had been mixing.
“None of that,” Ashe declared, Crystal and Keiko filing in behind her. Those in motion stopped cold at the sight of them. It would seem that her reputation was spreading. “I’m here for the fucker that killed my girl, hand him over and I won’t be forced to make the local coroner work a heap of overtime.”
She’d purposely not drawn her gun, unlike the two behind her. She was the speaker, and they would serve as the muscle to back up her word. Neither had their guns up, but they were in hand and ready. She could tell that many of those present were just itching to draw weapons, to kill those that dared to intrude.
One of those at the bar stood, he was a bigger man, muscular in the way someone who guzzled protein powder and steroids was. He also happened to be the one with the swastika tattoo. Ashe knew he was going to bluster and posture, cause some trouble until someone else could take a shot. She was just about to give the signal to drop the bastard when someone else spoke up.
“He isn’t here,” a deep and nasal voice said. “Ya just missed him.”
Ashe turned to the voice, finding a weedy old man seated at one of the small tables just behind the podium. He had to be at least seventy, if not older, his hair mostly gone white and heavy wrinkles covered him on all skin that she could see. He put a hand on the larger man pushing for him to return to his seat.
“Don’t,” he said the moment the muscle-man tried to protest. “You were seconds from dying, take it from someone who knows better.”
Every instinct Ashe had was telling her that this man was dangerous, that he was someone to not fuck with despite his age. He reminded her of some of those old war vets, his eyes were certainly haunted by something she vaguely recognized from the last time she looked at herself in the mirror. There was something to be said about old gang members, those that survived the lifestyle into their elder years.
Muscle-head grunted, but returned to his seat without further protest.
Yeah, she was dealing with someone important, that everyone in the room had relaxed slightly the moment he took charge certainly spoke to that. He wasn’t adorned in any special way, just a polo shirt and dress pants, the only jewelry visible was a necklace with a cross on it of what was likely to be actual silver. He didn’t even have visible tattoos, though she doubted that he didn’t have any. What really sold it however was that he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by her presence.
If anything, he was just amused.
“You must be Inferno,” the older man said. A few of the patrons seemed to recognize her street name, but not all of them. “The newest player of the little game that makes our city oh so interesting.”
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Ashe said.
Crystal tried to discreetly nudge her, but the man’s grin only widened.
“I am from long before your time,” he said easily. “Though, I am curious as to what brings you here. What has this man you seek done to offend you so?”
“The girl he killed was one of mine,” she said. “If you’ve been around as long as you say, then you know exactly what that means and the message I need to send to prevent repeat performances.”
“You need an example,” the man said with a nod. “He’s not one of ours, not officially, but you’re still asking me to sell out a good, white, man. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Ashe was seething, ready to push, but he held up a hand to forestall any counterpoint. “Not at least, without some concessions.”
Ashe took a deep breath, forcing down her anger and frustration. She couldn’t afford to snap, to be seen as the aggressor. So far most would see her actions as an arm of the Viuda, but here and now, she was representing herself and her interests. She couldn’t fight a war with the Iron Patriots, not yet at least.
“What terms would you offer for information on the outsider then?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Simple,” he said. “You will reveal your identity to me, which I will hold as collateral in the event you attempt to try something against the Patriots.”
Ashe stilled as her breath caught in her throat. That was an absurd price to pay for someone who was a nobody to their gang, an outsider who just happened to share their skin color. Even if he intended for this to become a negotiation, that was an absurd starting position. But then, what could she actually counter with?
Her bargaining position was weak, and she didn’t have the experience to know how to handle the situation properly. Weakness, that’s what it was, all due to her inexperience, and she hated it.
“I’ll do it,” Crystal interjected. Ashe’s stomach dropped as her girlfriend stepped forward. “Surely Riptide is worth more than Inferno to you, Silver Cross.”
That name, it was vaguely familiar in the same way that a random name could be when mentioned in some news special watched a decade ago could be. His limited jewelry made more sense as well if that was his street name.
Obviously Silver Cross was someone important once upon a time, which carried its own respect in long running gangs. The Iron Patriots had changed names and faces a few times over the decades, their most recent having been some twenty something years prior after the turn of the millennium.
Thoughts from the prior night flitted through her mind, of Alejandro playing with his crucifix. Had this been the man he wanted them to meet from the start?
“Oh, now isn’t this interesting,” he said, his grin growing wide. “Someone who knows who I was. I think I’ll accept, mostly because you now have my curiosity.”
“Riptide,” Ashe hissed. “It’s not worth it.”
“Trust me,” Crystal countered. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Very well,” he said. “I have a private room in the back that will be quite suitable for this.”
Crystal began to walk forward, but Ashe was quick to grab her arm. “I’m not letting you go in alone.”
Ashe tried to plead with her eyes, but she could see that Crystal was resolutely determined. That was clear as day to anyone that knew her, and Ashe liked to think that she did. She didn’t know everything, hadn’t pried into her past, but she knew what kind of person her friend was.
“Hmm,” Silver Cross said, stroking his chin. “What do I have to gain from allowing this?”
“Nothing,” Crystal said, pushing Ashe back while she eyed the man. “Despite your origins, you had a code, I trust you as far as that code will carry you.”
“You must know that my code was more guidelines,” he started, but Keiko groaned, cutting him off.
“If you ruin that movie for me, I will shoot you on principle.”
Silver chuckled. “Then don’t allow your friends to set me up to deliver such references. Well, come along then. Nobody will shoot first while you lot are my guests. Betray that courtesy and I will be quite…cross.”
Crystal groaned right alongside half the older segment of the bar. It took a moment for the reference to click in her mind and Ashe suddenly found herself in full agreement, which promptly turned her stomach that she agreed with a room full of fascists on anything.
A final pleading look was offered to her girlfriend, but she just shook her head and walked off with the old man, leaving Ashe and Keiko in a bar full of Iron Patriots. Not one person had taken their eyes off her, and she had no clue how long those two would be gone. Glancing at the TV, she wasn’t surprised to see some pay per view MMA fight on the screen.
It was incredibly tense and awkward, but the only thing she could think of to break that tension was just as likely to start a fight. Would it be worth the gamble? No, it really wouldn’t, she decided, and kept her damn mouth shut. Unfortunately, that didn’t extend to the other psychopath standing at her side.
“Twenty bucks on the black guy,” Keiko said, pointing at the screen.
Immediately, every eye in the bar turned to her with a harsh glare. Ashe just knew that under her mask, Keiko was grinning like an idiot. Unfortunately for her, that seemed to have been exactly what was needed as several bills were quickly slammed down along the length of the bar. It was with mounting horror that Keiko strode past her and added her own money to the pile and the woman dared everyone present to put their beliefs on the line.
The worst part?
It fucking worked.