The Battle Begins, Part One

Continued from Powerhouse v. the Car Thieves

Frank Ross threw the newspaper down on the table before his three most powerful allies: Marcos, his lieutenant, Frank Leonard, editorialist for the Seattle Guardian, and Captain Jake Welch of the Seattle PD. Ross would end up in jail with this incompetence. “Explain yourself, Marcos.”

Marcos leaned back in his chair. “They were loosely affiliated. We let them use the garage and split the take. They don’t know you. They know me, but they’re not going to say anything about me.”

“You hope they won’t, anyway.”

“We got our Assistant DA on the case. He’ll get them in Minimum Security for 3-5. They won’t get a better deal. I don’t see where the problem is.”

It was sure getting hot in here. Ross removed his jacket. “This Powerhouse could be trouble.”

“How much trouble?” Captain Welch asked. “You’re not into the protection racket anymore and in most crime, you’re not the big player.”

“I got out of protection because insurance was more profitable, but most of the organized crime in this city can be traced back to me. If Powerhouse is flying around, stopping it, he could very well connect the dots.”

Welch waved. “No worry. From what I’ve gathered, he’s not exactly the brightest bulb around.”

“Oh, so that’s why he shut down the car theft ring?”

“He’d never tie it back to you.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance. Now, Welch, what can you do to stop him?”

“I can talk to the Chief and see if I can get him to issue a statement against Powerhouse and vigilante justice.”

Ross slapped his forehead. “Oh, a statement. That’s what I’m paying you ten grand a month for, to go out and get people to give statements.”

“I’ll have the copter stop him mid-flight and make him remove his helmet, so we can know who he really is.”

“That’s a start.  And you, Leonard?”

Leonard jotted in his yellow notepad. “Vigilantism. It’s a dirty word from the old west, a time when men took the law into their own hands. Today, this vile practice is revived by Powerhouse, that villainous cur who haunts our streets at night.”

Ross wiped his eyes. “Beautiful. Give your next editorial five more paragraphs like that and keep an eye on this Powerhouse story for new topics.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“What about you, Marcos?”

Marcos pulled out a revolver and twirled it on his thumb. “I’ll whack ’em.”

Once a hood, always a hood. “You’re always so artful, Marcos. Be creative.”

“I’ll hire someone else to whack ’em.”

“You do that. If he’s dead, he can’t hurt us. Put a contract out on Powerhouse for a quarter of a million.”

“Will do.”

“Now get back to business and make this Powerhouse problem go away.”

Continued here.

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