* J *

Part Five: Chapter 23: Blame

To a certain degree the shipment was a trap for the Red Hood. Maroni didn't know for sure that the Red Hood would even be interested in taking the shipment, but he was hoping he would be. But the Red Hood never showed up...at least not in his red hood. Jack was there, a rubber clown mask on his head, concealing his face. None of Jack's clowns were even aware that their boss was among them. But that was the best way for things to work.

Jack watches as his men tear into the plastic around one of the kilos and start to test the product, for quality sake. Jack listens as they talk among themselves about how pure the stuff was. Jack is offered some. He doesn't want to make a scene, or alert any of them to his presence, so he dips his fingers in it and brings them to his nose. He snorts, head back, the powder directly hitting his throat. Immediately Jack could feel his heart start pounding harder. Alertness takes him over and he has to tell himself to breathe normally. He's done cocaine before, but like his guys say, it's pretty pure. Jack could cut it and make triple the money back on it.

Just as they are about to load up in the van and leave, a second group of Maroni's men shows up to ambush them. The only thing going for Jack is the number of men he had with him. But Jack knows that he couldn't get more men immediately. This was all of his men, all he had since five were dead. No matter how many guys they take out, right here and now, there's still reinforcements for Maroni's men just a short phone call away.

Bullets start to fly from both directions. Men on both sides start dropping to the ground. Jack moves for the driver's seat and kicks the dead guy in it out. It was one of his guys, he'd been shot in the head, but Jack had no time to mourn. He reminds himself to give his fallen comrad a toast when this is all said and done.

"Get in the van!" Jack calls out to his remaining men. They were all still in a gun warfare with Maroni's men. They hadn't planned on this. But they hear Jack can crank the vehicle and start diving into the back. Jack revs up the engine. He floors the gas and the van takes off leaving burnt rubber and smoke in its wake.

Jack almost has them in the clear when a guy rushed up from the side. He aims his gun at Jack and pulls the trigger. Jack feels the burning and his shoulder is slammed back into the driver's seat. It's not the first time he's been shot, and it surely wouldn't be the last. Jack's hand instantly goes to his shoulder. When he pulls his hand away it is crimson and wet. Blood.

"What are you crying about? It's barely bleeding. It's just a flesh wound."

"Fuck," Jack hisses and pulls his clothes away from the skin so he can get a better look at the damage. He looks back up, it was just a clean shoulder shot, in and out.

"See you pussy?"

Jack goes back to the warehouse. (keep in mind, nobody realizes Jack's the boss) the men get out. Most are wounded, five are minor, only one is severe. Jack looks at the men carrying the one with the worst injury.

Only seven men remained. Jack's numbers were dwindling fast. He was going to have to recruit more. Jack remembers what a pain in the ass it was to find the ones he had. It took so much research, all that trouble picking just the right men.

He watched as his men try aiding the man who sustained a gut shot. Jack already knows that the man will die. Jack's no stranger to gunshot wounds, he's been on both sides of the barrel. The guy was done for. Jack knew a bullet in his head would speed up the inevitable, but he was afraid his men would notice his actions and figure out it was him.

He didn't want them to know. Jack had no choice but to watch as his men fail in trying to keep the guy alive. Jack knows it was going to be a long slow death.

Jack tries to block out the man's screams as they dig in his stomach with a pair of pliers trying to dislodge the bullet in his gut. All of their clown masks have been discarded except for Jack's. He wondered how conspicuous he must look? Luckily, the men were all a bit distracted by holding down the thrashing dying man.

Jack casually looks around for a first aid kit so he can clean and bandage his own wounds. He finds a first aid kit but the only thing in it is square pieces of gauze. No tape, no antiseptic. Jack looks around and finds a bottle of liquor. Jack removed his shirt and pours the alcohol over his shoulder. It stings like a bitch. He places the gauze over the wound hoping his blood would hold it in place until he got home.

Jack quietly slips away with his jacket draped over his injured shoulder. He sticks to the shadows as he lurks down the dark streets to his apartment. He needed his red hood and a change of clothes. When he comes through the door Jeannie knows immediately that something is wrong.

"What happened?" She asks in a panic, rushing to his side. She could see the sweat covering him. Jack let's his jacket slide off his shoulder and to the floor. Jeannie's frantic eyes go wide at the bleeding wound. "Oh my God Jack! You've been shot!"

"It's ok," he tries calming her, "It's just in the shoulder. It went in and out. It's fine," he tries to shrug it off. She knows he's been shot before, she's seen the scars.

"I knew something bad was going to happen to you tonight! I tried to ignore it. I listened to you telling me you'd be ok!" She shouts out of fear.

"And I'm ok baby," Jack looks at her.

"This is ok?!" She dramatically motions at the bullet hole in his shoulder. "This isn't ok Jack! A few inches away is your heart! You've gotta stop this now! They're gonna kill you Jack!"

Jack runs his hand over his face with a sigh. "Jeannie, I can't stop this, you know that. What I'm doing is dangerous, but I don't have a choice. I'm doing all of this for us. For you. There's gonna be bloodshed and there's nothing I can do about that. It's the only way we can be together. If I don't do this we're both dead anyway. Do you understand?" Jack stares at her with a hardened expression.

Jeannie just stared back at Jack. She knew he was right. Jeannie felt guilty. Jack could still be working for her uncle. He'd be a hell of a lot safer. Jeannie suddenly realizes that she is what brings danger to Jack's life. Her. If she wouldn't have acted on her feelings none of this would be happening. Therefore, this gun shot wound in Jack's shoulder was her fault. And if Jack dies, that's solely on her.

And the worse part of it all is that nothing could be done. Jeannie can't improve Jack's odds by leaving him. He would still die because of her. She knew that begging her uncle wouldn't work either. He wouldn't forgive Jack for all that he's stolen from him. Anyway you want to play it, they were both in danger.