Maggie, Halona and I sauntered on outside through the front door, stepping over all the corpses, while the Pinkerton boys went out through the back way with the device in their hands. They would meet up with us a block or two down back the way we had come, deliver it, and then take Frichie to a proper saw-bones to get the hole in his shoulder fixed up. They had the easy job in my opinion.
After all, we had to deal with the police, and the politician.
And to top it all off, my adrenaline had worn off, so now I was just tired, sore, and my damn face was on fire from the cut across my cheek.
Good times. I thought darkly.
“You found tiny mouse people?!” Halona gasped in amazement, riveted on Maggie’s quick, whispered rundown of recent events. “Why didn’t you come get me?”
“Halona, you could’t fit up the damn stairs!” I hissed back to her, exasperated, as we walked out to the middle of the street and stopped. I wanted to go all the way over to wagons and check on their progress, and the transformed gangster women, but other issues came first.
Such as the wall of police marching down to us, their various weapons out, and looking like a small, blue coated army. Which, technically, they were. They were also a day late and a dollar shy, which told me a lot about what was likely really going on.
Still, when it came to matters like this, matters that were largely political, I’d learned from the army to step quickly, and lightly. The problem with politics, apart from the obvious love of power, money, and easy chances for corruption, was ego. As a lieutenant, I’d learned to actually be more wary of officers with out of control egos then outright enemies!
There was a reason famously good leaders often had solid control over their egos, even if those egos were usually already larger than average to begin with.
“Oh, right.” Halona muttered, then sighed. “I will get to meet them, yes?”
“I told them to ride in the wagons with the gear, so I would think so, yes.” I told her, pulling a piece of cloth out of my pocket to hold to my bleeding face. I’d mocked Maggie for her bloody face back up there, but my face was hardly any better it turned out. I groaned as I wiped at the blood.
“You’ll love them.” Maggie laughed. “They’re so cute!”
“I can’t wait to see them!” Halona laughed, and I marveled at how well these two were getting along. I wasn’t sure to be happy, or terrified.
Finally, the wall the of police reached us, as the majority of the Pinkertons and gangsters clustered around the wagons while they worked on them. I felt more exposed out in the middle of the street, but I wasn’t alone, and I knew I needed to deal with this mess out in the open.
Plus I didn’t trust them near Orna’s stuff.
“Who’s in charge here?” A heavily mustached cop shouted out, with several badges on his coat.
“That’s your cue master.” Halona giggled next to me as she and Maggie took up positions on either side of me. “Let’s say hello to trouble once again!”
I sighed in further exasperation once again before I answered back.
“I am.” I called out, meeting the man eye to eye. “Name’s Jake.”
“That would be Jake Ranger, aka the Wild Ranger?” He half asked, half shouted, his damn voice carrying across half the buildings on the street.
“It would.” I answered, eyeing him with forced stoicism. “Who’s asking?”
“Do you have a good explanation for this mess, folk hero?” He asked instead, ignoring my question, and basic courtesy. “Do all you damn cowboys always shoot up streets in broad daylight?”
“Depends on the weather.” I replied glibly, refusing to be intimidated. “Sometimes it’s just too much trouble to go outside onto the streets. For days like that, we just shoot the annoying bastards from the window, and then get back to getting on with our lives.”
More than few people on all sides chuckled at that. The officer was not amused, and clearly not used to dealing with some random pedestrian that he couldn’t intimidate. I’d dealt with far worse, and far more powerful and competent versions of him in the army.
This overly mustached, blue-coated Buffon was a vacation compared to them.
Besides, I already knew that he was just the warm up act. The real show was striding up behind him.
“Thank you Captain Quomeo. Have your men set a perimeter and see to dealing with the bodies and the damage. The Pinkertons are busy with their job, and while they work, there’ll be some fine time to talk about everything that’s happened here.” The tall, well dressed man said, striding up next to the police captain like he owned the street and everything on it.
Hell, for all I know, he does. I thought warily, eyeing this newcomer, who I could only assume was the so-called Boss Tweed.
The first word that came to mind with this man was big. He stood well over six feet tall, even taller than me, dressed in a fine suit, and if I had to guess his weight, a little on the nose at around three hundred pounds. But calling him a fat fool would be incredibly unwise, something I could tell at a glance.
The road was slick with mud, blood, and worse, and several people had, more than once, slipped on a step before catching themselves, or not catching themselves. Yet this man, in a fine suit with fine looking boots rather than shoes, strode through it like it was well paved cobblestone. The glint of golden, diamond encrusted rings on his fingers caught my eyes, and I saw the golden chain of a fine pocket watch in his suit, which, along with the suit itself, was a statement all on its own.
Yet he moved with a surprising nimbleness for one so large.
This guy’s a scrapper who won big and got ahold of wealth. I thought as he came forward to loom over me, though he was basically at the same height as Halona. He’s been guzzling his new found wealth, but not so much he forgot how to fight to get more.
Or at least, that was my first impression of the man as he smiled and offered me a huge hand.
“William Tweed, of Tammany Hall.”
I eyed him carefully for a moment, then shrugged and shook his hand.
“Jake Ranger, of the Frontier.”
“And so much more I hear.” He smiled as he shook my hand vigorously, but carefully. I was surprised that I could feel some callouses on his hands, which only further confirmed my impression that this was a worker and a fighter who had risen to great heights. Still, I only had to deal with him just long enough to leave, and at this point I was determined to be rid of this city as soon as possible.
The day after that damn Exhibition, on a huge, luxurious airship, if I had my way.
With that in mind, I smiled back, nodded and shrugged as I reclaimed my hand. He’d been careful with his grip, but I knew he had a lot of strength in those hands.
“People like their stories. Whether they’re ever true or not, one never really knows, until they confirm it themselves.” I replied with a shrug. “I’ve heard things about you as well, and I’ve only been in this city a day or so, all told.”
“And what a day it’s been!” He laughed, nodding along with me and gesturing all around us expansively, before he then gestured to Halona specifically. “A centaur woman walking through central square, your now infamous bets at the exhibition, and now a full blown street war with a gang out in the slums of Five Points! All in a days work!”
“I’d always heard this city was fast paced,” I replied, smiling while watching him, the police behind him, and my own group. “I thought I was just meandering by.”
“There’s meandering, there’s walking, running, sprinting, and then whatever the hell you’ve been doing for the last twenty-four hours or so.” Tweed chuckled good naturedly. “Not that I’m one to judge. Just a decade or so ago I was a humble chair-maker. Now I work for the great voters of New York.”
“Doing what, precisely?” I asked, curious despite myself.
“Helping them with, well, everything really.” Tweed shrugged, looking at me with a strange form of sincerity, and shrewdness. “Standing down by the docks with hot bowls of soup when the Hibernians get off the boats. Helping various would be entrepreneurs with building permits, business licenses, alcohol licenses, jobs, placement of children in schools or apprenticeships. The list just goes on really.”
“Busy man.” I muttered, eyeing him as the police started moving around behind him, examining the street turned battlefield, and the various corpses on it.
“Busy city,” Tweed shrugged with another smile before he lit up a cigar. “But then, you know that already, after all, Mr. Ranger.”
“Oh?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. Are we coming to the point at last? I wondered. Or at least, one of them?
Since this guy struck me as someone who knew how to multitask, I actually had to wonder just how many points he was after with this little impromptu meeting in the street.
“I understand you and Mr. Carnegie are helping out young Miss Rowan for the competition in the next few days.” Mr. Tweed said, eyeing the Pinkertons and the Needle Eye gang milling around the wagons. “And my dear Maggie, since when did you ever have Mice Beastkin in your gang?”
He blinked as soon as he asked that question, and then refocused on the women who had been transformed, who were mostly clustered together weeping. “And now that I think of it, mouse beastkin is a term I’ve never heard before. Much less said.”
“It’s a recent development.” Maggie answered back coolly, smiling without any humor. “You don’t seem all that broken up, or surprised, over this little war, or Kirby Berwicks death. He is dead, by the way, just in case you were wondering. So why haven’t you sicced your coppers on us for it?”
“I hear he was doing something stupid with cans of kerosene and matches out here last night. All to get out of a bet he should never have taken part of.” Tweed replied, shaking his head in utter disgust and disappointment. “As a former firefighter myself, I don’t have much sympathy for fallen criminals who were trying to burn down the homes of my constituents.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Good to know,” I interjected, glancing around before facing him again. “And a fair point. We were attacked in broad daylight by his gang, and we have plenty of witnesses. Will the police be bothering us after taking our basic statements? We have wounded to see to, and shit to do.”
I was all but officially done with this politicking, but I knew I had to play the game, rather than just knock the table and game board over. I’d seen this play out before over the years: how disdaining and ignoring politics and politicians could be truly devastating to careers and businesses. Or in my personal case, with the whole Civil War, entire countries. I knew that fact in my head, but damn was it hard to feel that in my heart right at that moment.
I was tired, sore, bloody, and still had miles to go before I could sleep.
Plus I didn’t like the inquisitive, hungry look in his eye as he looked around at all of us. It just spelled more trouble for us, if he got to indulge it. Still, we were surrounded by his police, apparently, so I knew this had to be played carefully, and politely.
The few times I’d watched politicking officers play this game, strangely enough, politeness had been crucial.
“Not at all.” Mr. Tweed replied, smiling in a businesslike manner once again. “Though I am curious about those Mice Beastkin ladies. I’ve never seen or heard of their like before. Ever.”
He eyed them, and then us with a polite looking predatory gaze. “So very curious, that.”
“What are you after, Tweed?” Maggie asked back, eyeing him dangerously. It was her people who’d been transformed after all.
He smiled at her, ever polite as he shrugged. “On the way here, a number of very frightened people ran up to us. They were full of such wild tales, like an open gun battle in the streets, an infamous cat beastkin riding a centaur woman into battle, and even gunfight becoming a sword fight.”
“They said quite a lot.” I remarked, feeling like I was suddenly standing too close to a hungry grizzly bear.
“Word travels fast around these parts.” Tweed replied, spreading his hands out in mock helplessness with a small, and very smug, smile.
“You know, that does remind me,” Halona stated suddenly, her voice both exasperated and very annoyed as she turned to glare at Maggie. “I never said anyone could ride me like a common pack horse. Let alone an overgrown bobcat with lots of sharp claws and a smart mouth.”
Maggie just glanced at her, shrugged, then slowly and deliberately turned back to Tweed. Every motion of her bloody, fur covered body radiating, practically oozing smugness. Halona just huffed in annoyance as she also turned back to Tweed.
“Cats.” She muttered, and I could practically feel her eyes rolling in her head.
I ignored the byplay and stayed focused on Boss Tweed, who was still watching us with a cautious avarice.
“However, the most interesting thing those terrified eye witnesses told us about, was a strange device shooting off beams of light.” Tweed continued, also ignoring their byplay while finishing his cigar. “And that whatever poor soul was hit with this light, they’d start to transform, like something out of the Grimm Fairytales!”
He had everyone’s undivided attention now.
“We dismissed those claims, of course.” Tweed shrugged as he ground out his cigar stub, before very deliberately looking at the mouse women again. “Though everyone who came forward and told us that story all agreed on one thing. The people hit by the beam of light all transformed into human-mouse people. Mouse Beastkin, as it were! Except there are no mouse beastkin.”
He turned back to us, smiling. “Though it seems there are some now. How amazing!”
So that’s it. I though with a raised eyebrow. He wants that device. Shocking. Still, I’m left to wonder why?
There were only a few reasons that I could think of on why he would want it, most of them terrifying. However, it wasn’t my problem to solve. I already had the thing, and I wasn’t about to let some Johnny-come-lately politician swoop in and seize it at the last second. Or at any second, frankly.
But again; I had to play this game very carefully.
And politely.
I really hated having to play polite with people who were trying to mess with me, but it was that, or have a powerful individual become vindictive. And as I was dead set on getting out of this city in the next few days, no matter what, restraint was the better part of valor here. The time limit certainly helped though.
Or so I kept telling myself.
“They had someone using it up on the second floor. They were shooting at us from the window like a sniper. Those beams of light were a new addition to the battlefield.” I remarked, deciding on nonchalant honesty. “We killed him in the battle, but I don’t know where his little device might be at the moment. The fighting carried on after that, and we needed to focus elsewhere. Then you showed up.”
I smiled back at him and gestured to the building. “Perhaps it’s still there with his body up on the second floor. You’re welcome to go and look.”
“Oh, there are people for that.” He replied with a smug chuckle and a shrewd look on his face. He then turned and gestured to several police standing nearby. At his signal, they turned towards the building to begin heading in.
“Well, if that’s all.” I stated, ready to leave, for multiple reasons. “We still have a job to do and wounded to see to.”
“Oh, it’s no bother.” Tweed replied with a shrug and a hungry expression on his face. “If I need anything, or have any follow up questions, I’m sure I can find my own way to the Brighton Hotel, out on Broadway.”
I twitched at that, and then glared at the smiling man. Then an outcry of surprise and shock got ahold of our attention.
“The hell are these things?!” One of the police heading into the tenement building shouted out in confused fear. I, and everybody else for that matter, glanced over to see what the fuss was all about.
As I was turning to look, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a muddy Orna walking over to us from the hubbub of the Pinkerton group, looking curious and worried.
“They’re some sort of mutant mice!” Another cop shouted, sounding panicky and frantic. “Destroy them before they pass off some sick plague!”
Realization dawned on me and I whirled around to the door of the building, my hand drawing my pistol before I even had a concise thought about it.
“Stand down and back off!” I snapped, my voice coming out loud and harsh as I lined up my pistol on the panicky cop who had pulled out his own pistol. “Those people are part of my group and under my protection! Hurt them and you’ll answer to me!”
I focused on the cop, who was still looking half mad with fear as everyone else around us tensed, many drawing weapons on one another. We were inches away from another firefight, all because one idiot was spooked. At the threshold of the door, down on the ground no taller than my ankle, at best, was the cause of all this.
A line of tiny mouse people, carrying tiny bags and random pieces of doll sized furniture, all dressed in worn out, patched up working clothes. They all also looked terrified, if I was any judge of tiny, fur covered, mouse-like humanoid faces. I couldn’t blame them on that honestly, with someone a thousand times their size totally losing his mind at their mere presence.
“Back off and let them pass.” I stated coldly, meeting the cop eye to eye, before looking past him to the others around him, all of whom had started to panic to various degrees. “They are coming with me. So there’s no need to worry about them. Try to hurt them, and I’ll hurt you. Permanently.”
“You can’t threaten us!” One of the cops, a very young one I noticed, argued back.
“And you can’t kill people out of hand just because you’re a scaredy cat!” I snapped back, deliberately using the childish remark to drive the point home to them.
“They’re mice! Not people!” The kid cop argued back, looking a mixture of confused and offended.
“Regular mice don’t wear clothes, or carry furniture.” I calmly and coldly replied, not lowering my weapon. “And as I said, they are coming with me. So, who cares?”
“Are they now?” Boss Tweed’s booming voice cut in, breaking much of the tension as he gestured for the police to stand down. “And just who are they?”
“Some local residents who helped me out in exchange for some help moving them to a better part of the city.” I replied, keeping my weapon trained on the police near the door, who hadn’t put their weapons away. “They helped us out during the battle, and I’m helping them out.”
“What help do they need from you?” Tweed asked as he turned to glare at the cops at the door, who wilted under his glare before finally putting their weapons away.
“As I said.” I replied, lowering my pistol only after the panicky cops had put their weapons away and had stepped back from the door. “I’m helping them move. Clearly they’d have a hard time of it by themselves.”
“So it would seem.” Tweed remarked, staring transfixed as the mouse-folk began walking once again, toting all their knickknacks as best they could through the mud of the street. “I never knew such residents were here in this district. I’d have seen to their needs myself had I known!”
“Oh, they are so cute!” Orna all but swooned as she half walked, half sprinted through the mud to the line of mouse people, before she bent down to stare at them in amazed fascination. For their part, the mice stared back as they continued walking by, some even waving at her.
“Hello Miss Rowan!” One of the little mouse girls I recognized from the original mouse family that I met waved at her, excitedly. “I’m so excited you made it into the contest! I bet you’ll take first prize for sure!”
Orna looked ready to die from a combination of excitement and embarrassment, while most everyone else on the street who heard the little mouse girl just looked gobsmacked. I actually started chuckling as I walked over and knelt at the head of mouse procession.
An army of cops rendered speechless by a talking mouse. Worth it! I thought with a smile.
“There’s a lot of mud and people in the way on the street. Why don’t I just put you all up on Halona’s back and on whichever carts are finished loading, and we can get out of here quicker.” I offered, holding out my hand in as nonchalant a way as I could. I’d found that behaving calmly and coolly in the face of the amazing or the terrifying, as though it were an everyday thing, had a calming effect on most everyone else.
In short, in a nonchalant manner.
“I’d be happy to give them some rides!” Halona chipped in, looking giddy, before she winced and glanced around at her horse half. “After I get all my cuts cleaned up and repaired. The bleeding has mostly stopped, but it still hurts.”
“Fair enough.” I nodded, before looking back to the lead mouse, whom I realized was the father mouse I’d met earlier. “So, a wagon ride it is then?”
“That would be most generous of you, Wild Ranger, thank you.” He answered back with a mischievous smile on his face. I twitched at his usage of my nickname, but otherwise went with it, mock glaring at him before I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
“Get on up here, you old coot.” I chuckled, as I took off my hat and held it upside down for them to climb into. Several scampered forward and climbed up the brim and into the bowl of the hat and I carefully picked it up and turned to head over to the wagons. As I turned I noticed Maggie, Halona, and Orna all standing together in the road, watching me with various smiles and smirks on their faces.
“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at them.
“Nothing.” Maggie replied, purring with a smirk on her face.
“Well, good.” I replied, annoyed that I was the only one working. “Then you all can help carry them over to the nearest finished wagon. Chop chop and all that.”
They all just giggled and proceeded to help pick up the various mice-folk and transport them to the nearest wagon, as everyone else watched, spellbound.
There was an actual minute or two of utter silence as everyone else just watched the three girls, and myself, make several trips to transport the surprisingly large group of mice. The group was complete with men, women, children, elderly and infants, and the all told, there had to be a couple hundred.
Certainly dozens and dozens in so many little groups.
Finally, when the last had been loaded up, I turned to Orna. “Are you all loaded up here?”
“The Pinkerton men helped me with the last, big load earlier.” She replied with a nod, her eyes transfixed on the two wagons we’d wound up using for the mice people, and her coppersmith stuff. “Anything else here is something that’s easily replaced. I have all the essentials. We can get out of here right now if you think it’s best.”
“I do.” I nodded, and quickly got the Pinkertons to organize and mount up, after which I mounted up on Butterball, with Halona taking her customary place next to me on the road. All of this was done under the watchful gaze of Boss Tweed and the police, who’d ceased moving around in favor or watching the mouse procession, and then our mount up. The sooner we were on our way, the better I would feel.
“Move out!” I called out, and snapped Butterballs reins to get him going.
“I’ll be joining you!” Maggie called out suddenly, hopping up onto Halona’s back with a deft movement, making Halona grunt in annoyance as she glared behind her at the hitchhiker. “I have to keep track of my dear friend Orna, after all.”
“And your gang?” I asked, nodding to the locals who’d fought for us. Especially the recently transformed mouse-women.
“They’ll be fine.” Maggie shrugged. “I was a part of them, but not their leader. This is the Five Points, where you either get tough or die. Besides, it looks like interesting things are happening around Orna now, ever since you showed up. Can’t miss any of that fun!”
“Cats.” I muttered as our procession began to move out.
“I’ll have to pay you a visit at some point Master Ranger.” Tweed called out, waving and smiling warmly. “You truly are an interesting person! And you rescued so many brand new voters! Truly, I thank you!”
I waved back, a smile pasted on my own face, but my heart was decidedly not in it.
“Happy to be of service to the community.” I deadpanned as we rode out of that muddy road, with lines of cops standing by on either side of the street, letting us pass as they eyed us suspiciously the whole time. I got the impression letting us leave after waging a brief war on the street annoyed them.
Sadly, they were bought and paid for by Boss Tweed, and he’d said to let us leave. So, they let us leave. That was the price for being bought, so far as I was concerned.
Though it worked out for me and mine in this particular case.
Frankly, I was personally thrilled to just get out of there!
“Goodbye, Five Points.” I whispered, grinning for real as we slowly left it behind as the sun brightened up the town around us. “It was fun.”