10:23 am
12.14.41
New York City
Curtis's Secret Base
I awoke to the sound of Darry's crazed ramblings outside of my room, and I was almost positive he had that stupid corkboard out. I got up from my bed with a sigh. I didn't bother changing from my sleepwear, stepping out of my room tiredly. Sure enough, Darry had the corkboard with all the photos and red strings in-front of him, and he was looking over it angrily.
"G'Morning Pony." Soda smiled over to me. I smiled back, heading to the kitchen for some coffee. Darry ruffled my hair as I walked by, grumbling something about being too old to sleep in.
The three of us live in a rather small flat. We are all still recovering from the Depression, but we were doing rather well compared to some of our old pals. We were currently living off the reward money for whatever crooks Darry and Soda could catch. The kitchen and main room were connected, so I could still see Darry fuss over the board while Soda laughed at him.
"I still cannot believe you ran into the entire Shepherd family on your first outing." He muttered while ripping down a photo of the man I recognized as Comma. Soda turned to me with a goofy grin. "Darry has been trying to take them down for years, you know." He explained. I shrugged in response.
"I don't know why, they seemed like pretty mellow people. I talked with that 'Bambi' guy-" I was interrupted by the sound of ceramic hitting the floor. I looked over to Darry with wide eyes, who had just dropped his cup of coffee onto the floor. He was looking at with the same crazed look he had the night before, mouth agape.
"You talked to him?!" He asked incredulously. "Yes? He seemed like a normal guy." I replied while nodding slowly. Darry groaned, rubbing his temples with his hands. "You... You spoke to the Boss of one of the most notorious crime families in the country." He turned to Soda, who looked rather surprised himself. "Our little brother had a civil conversation with a mob boss." He muttered. Soda nodded with a chuckle. "I know Dar, I heard."
"He was the boss? Didn't look like one." I murmured to no one in particular. Which, somehow, sent my eldest brother off all over again.
"You saw him?!" He gasped out, staring back at me now. I nodded. "You've gotta be kidding me! You saw his face?" Darry asked again, as if he couldn't believe it.
"Yeah? I kinda had to see him to talk to him- Why's that such a big deal?" I questioned. Darry mumbled something to himself, ripping a photo of his board. "This," He handed me a black and white photo. "Is the only picture ever taken of him. And they aren't even really sure that it is him."
The photo showed a man in the exact suit the boy was wearing last night, with his hat covering half of his face. An evil, crooked grin peeked out from underneath. I could easily tell it wasn't the boy I spoke to. This man was huge, suit sleeves pulled taut around his large arms. He had a stubble and a mole that Bambi also did not have, including a tattoo on his neck that read 'la famiglia'.
"Can't be. That guy's... forty somethin' years older than the boy I talked to." I paused, handing the photo back to my brother. "But that is the suit he was wearing." I added, making Darry crinkle his eyebrows in confusion. He put the photo back on the board in a completely different place, pinning a piece of paper with a question mark next to it.
"I think I should make some calls." He muttered, heading over to the ameche. Soda threw me a 'what the fuck' look, and I just shrugged in response. I sat down with my coffee just as the person picked up.
"Hello. I'm calling for- dammit I don't know his name." Darry turned to Soda, placing a hand over the receiver. "What was the name of the man you worked with last May?" He whispered. Soda thought for a moment. "I dunno' his name." Soda murmured. "I think his callsign was, uh- Hothead... or somethin'." Darry rolled his eyes, turning back to the phone.
"Sorry, I'm calling for one of your agents. Hothead, I believe his name was? My brother worked with him last May-" Darry said in his 'work voice'. The lady on the other side something. "Oh! You can transfer me to him? Wonderful, Thank you."
I chuckled to myself, taking a sip. It took me only a few seconds to remember who 'Hothead' was.
"Darry, are you talking about Dallas?" Darry thought for a moment, nodding. "Hang up! I hate that guy!" I whisper-yelled to him. Darry sighed in annoyance, taking the phone away from his head once again. "You're gonna have to deal with it, Pone. He's the only assassin we know-"
Just like that, the ameche made a clicking sound. Darry put a hand up to silence my retort, holding the phone back up to his face. "Hello? Dallas?"
He was on the phone for the next half hour, angrily telling him how I had run into the shepherds and that the photo they believed to be Bambi was, in fact, not him.
Darry ended the call after Dallas agreed to come over to discuss it further. The doorbell rang just 15 minutes later. "That was quick." Darry murmured, stepping aside to let him in. Dallas shrugged. "I live a town over." He explained.
Dallas was a tall, blonde haired, blue eyed man who seemed to have a permanent grimace on his face. His hair was long and split at the ends, so blonde that it was almost white. He was the same height as Darrel, but a lot more slender and without the cleanliness that Darry prided himself in. He was one of the only agents of any kind that I've ever met who didn't slick back their hair, letting it fall over his face.
He isn't a big fan of mine because he thinks I'm some bratty kid, though I'm only three years younger than him. I don't like him much either, but that never stopped Darry or Soda from working with him.
In my personal opinion he's a doll dizzy fat-headed douchebag who has no regard for anyone but himself. In Soda and Darry's eyes, he was just a bit of an asshole.
Soda smiled over to him when he walked by. "Hiyya Dallas, How are ya'?" He asked as Dallas sat down. "Alright, I guess. What's the dork doing here?" He asked. He didn't even look at me! Soda rolled his eyes half-heartedly. "He's a part of the team. Didn't Darry just tell you how he ran into the Shepherds?"
"Yeah." Dallas shrugged, facing me finally. "Don't go thinking you're all special or somethin'. I've run 'em about a hundred times. It's not some big grandstanding, if you know what I mean." He told me with a lazy smirk that always managed to annoy me. "Did you." I replied in annoyance, rolling my eyes. "Mhm. Who do you think made him lose that eye?" He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.
Darry ruffled my hair as he walked by, going to the head of the table. He tapped at the photo from earlier to get our attention. "We need to come up with a plan." He announced. "Pony's run in with the Shepherds can be really helpful, we need to use it as an advantage."
Dallas nodded, pulling a photo out of his back pocket. "Speaking of run-ins, A friend of mine snapped this on his last mission." He placed it face up on the table, me and my brothers crowding around to see it.
It was a photo of Scarface and Alf, seemingly whispering to each other. "That," He pointed to Tim. "Is the consigliere. His allies call him Scarface-"
"His name is Tim." I interrupted. Dallas looked up at me, eyes widening for a moment before hardening again, almost as if he caught himself. "You know his name?" He asked me, raising a brow. "Bambi accidentally called him that when I was listening in." I explained to the room. I could tell Darry was holding back another 'how unfair' comment.
"You've fought with this guy a million times and you never once caught his name?" I smirked. Dallas just rolled his eyes. "That's above my pay grade. I just kill, and move on. " He shrugged. "Don't go gammin' on about it. You got lucky. Plain and simple." He said casually, like he always did when he tried to insult me. "Gee, when you put it like that-" I began, but Dallas was quick to interrupt.
"Well, Anyway, As I was saying." Dallas glared at me before pointing to the man next to him, who I also recognized. "This is one of their capos. He goes by Alf so I assume his name might be Alfred. He works closely with the boss, if we can get our hands on one of them we might get some answers." He explained.
Darry took the photo once he was done, putting it up next to a few others that all had people I somewhat recognized. "How do you suppose we get close enough to grab one of them?" Darry asked, sitting back down.
Dallas smiled, looking all proud of himself. "I know a person or two on the inside. One of us can go undercover as one of their workers and see if we can listen in."
Soda smiles, looking impressed. "Who should go in?" He asked. Dallas frowned. "It can't be me, they know my face." He grumbled. Darrel nodded along. "Me too." He added. I smiled a little to myself for finally speaking up. "I could go-" I began, but Darry was quick to shoot me down.
"No. No way." He shook his head, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "It might be a good idea. He hasn't done anything important enough for them to know him." Dallas shrugged. I decided not to take the quip to heart, nodding along. "Yeah, and Bambi has spoken to me before- So he might let me in quicker." I explained, hoping I didn't sound as dumb as I felt.
"No. That's final." Darry shook his head, moving to stand. I grabbed his hand, making him turn to face me. "C'mon Darry! I did so well on my first mission-"
"I wouldn't care if you took down all five families by yourself! I'm not sending my kid brother into the clutches of the mob alone!" He yelled, ripping his arm from my hand.
"I could go with him." Soda said meekly. Darry turned to glare at him. "Come on Dar... This is the closest we've ever been." Soda practically begged. Darrel sighed, the three of us looking at him expectantly.
"...Fine." He groaned, plopping back down in his chair. "Now we're cookin' with gas!" Dallas exclaimed, turning to me and Sodapop. "I can get you both in on Monday. 'You up for it?" He asked hopefully. We both nodded. "Hell yeah! Let's bust some crooks!" Soda chuckled, leaning back in his chair. Darrel glared at him for his language, but inevitably didn't say anything.
Dallas nodded, standing up. "Well, that was easy." He turned to Darry. "I'll message you with all the details, so stay by the phone." Darry nodded, waving him goodbye. Just as Dallas began to leave, I stood up.
"Wait!" I exclaimed. "If I'm gonna start going on missions, I need a callsign."Dallas rolled his eyes, previously being spooked by my yelling. "Guess you're right." Soda chuckled. "Let's see..." He began, but Dallas interrupted him. "What about Omar?" He asked, sounding suspiciously sincere.
"Why Omar?" I asked. Dallas chuckled. "It's an abbreviation. Omar stands for 'Oh Man, Another Retard'." He burst out laughing when Soda elbowed him."Cut it out Dal." He scolded, clearly holding back a laugh of his own. "Wait- I got a good one. What about Utah?"
"...What does Utah stand for?" I asked suspiciously. "Up Tight Ass Hole." Dallas snorted, cracking himself up.
"Wow, Really funny Dallas. Do you just have a list of those or something?" I asked in annoyance. Dallas rolled his eyes with a smile. "Yeah, wanna hear another?" Before he could call me another rude name, Darry held up a hand to silence him.
"We'll call you P.B. for now." He said, with a sense of finality. I wasn't a big fan though. "That's so unoriginal!" I frowned.
"You have to earn your callsign. Whether or not it's rude or kind depends on how well you do." Darrl explained, wagging his finger at me.
"I think I like mine better." Dallas sniggered. Soda turned to him, raising a brow. "Are those yer' own brainchild or did you bum them off of another agent?" He asked, sounding too interested in my personal opinion.
"First I stole off some guy in bootcamp. Second was all me, though." Dallas said proudly, leaning on our counter. "Well that's just swell, Dal." Soda chuckled.
"Why are you still here? Don't you have missions to fail?" I asked him angrily. Darry glared at me for my attitude.
Dallas shook his head with a laugh, pushing himself off the countertop. "I guess I should get going. History has to be made one way or another." He smirked down at me as he said it. He then gave Soda and Darrel both a firm handshake, walking out with not so much as a word to me.
Douchebag.
Darry sighed, turning to me and Sodapop. "You two better brush up on your bar etiquette, neither one of you have ever gotten a job like this- and I don't want us to lose this progress just because you had a temper with a customer." He didn't look at either one of us particularly, but I knew he was talking to me.
"Will do, Darry. I'll be as pleasant as a pheasant!" Soda smiled, patting him lightly on the shoulder. He looked over at me expectantly. "I dunno' what you're looking at me for." I paused for a moment. "I won't blow it, I promise."
Darry sighed a breath of relief. "Thank you. I just... I hope it goes well." He smiled, for one of the first times in a while. This was his dream- To take down the monsters who killed our folks.
We were getting closer and closer by the minute, and I wasn't going to ruin it.