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[LUKA]
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Wyatt pulled over and parked the car in a secluded spot near a liquor store. Its neon sign casting a gaudy glow on the wet pavement. Luka got out of the car, her eyes scanning the surroundings.
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"Not here," she said, her voice low. "The place we're looking for should be a bit further down. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot."
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Wyatt raised an eyebrow, his gaze taking in the dimly lit streets. "You've never been around here before, have you?"
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She shook her head. "Nope, this is my first time. I got information from a guy I know on the other side of town."
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Wyatt's expression turned thoughtful. "A C.I.?"
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"Not really," she said, her tone dismissive. The car door creaking shut behind her, she didn't elaborate, instead motioning for him to follow her.
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Wyatt eyes briefly lingered on her, expecting further details, but Luka just turned and started walking. "Okay then," he said with a shrug in his eyes rolling slightly in amusement.
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Before following after her, he ensured his car was securely locked. Only then did he fall into step behind Luka, though occasionally glancing back at his car as it faded into the distance. His eyes were now fixed on her as she navigated through the terrain ahead.
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"Can I at least know where we're going?" Wyatt asked as they seem to have been walking for quite a while.
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Luka's lips curled into a hint of a smile. "You'll see when we get there."
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Wyatt's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're not giving me much to go on Luka."
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"Just a little bit further," she assured him. "It should be right around the corner," she glanced around at the buildings and signage to verify that she was on the right track and kept on. 441Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5DWNNvsfqL
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As they walked through the streets, navigating their way through the labyrinthine alleys of Riverside, the sounds of the city grew louder – the distant hum of music, the laughter of passersby, and the occasional shout from a group of rowdy teenagers.
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After a few more minutes of walking, they turned a corner and spotted a place called The Mad Crow, its sign creaking in the gentle breeze. The exterior looked a bit rough, but the interior seemed to be bustling with activity.
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"This it?" Wyatt asked, his eyes on the pub.
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Luka nodded. "I think so. Source said we'd find what we're looking for around here. Let's go inside and see what we can dig up."
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Wyatt's eyes met Luka's, a silent understanding passing between them. They stepped into the pub, the sounds of the city giving way to the raucous laughter and music within.
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Luka pushed open the heavy wooden door, and the sounds of laughter and music spilled out onto the sidewalk. The Mad Crow was a pub that seemed to thrive on chaos, its patrons a mix of rough-around-the-edges locals and those looking for a good time. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and spilled beer.
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As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted, and heads turned in their direction. The laughter and chatter didn't stop, but it paused for a moment, as if the room was collectively sizing them up. Luka's eyes scanned the room, taking in the crowded tables and the bar, where patrons were three-deep, clamoring for drinks.
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The inner entrance was guarded by two large individuals, their arms crossed over their chests, their faces stern. They blocked Luka and Wyatt's path, their eyes narrowing as they looked them up and down.
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"Can we help you?" one of the guards growled, his voice low and menacing.
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Wyatt smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, slipping them discreetly to the guard. The guard's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked to the cash and back to Wyatt. He nodded, and stepped aside, motioning for them to enter.
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"Welcome to the Mad Crow," he said, his voice a little softer now.
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As they passed through, Wyatt gave Luka a quick glance, a hint of a smile on his face. It was a look that said, "I've got this." Luka raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, her eyes already scanning the room again.
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The atmosphere inside the pub seemed to relax now that they had been cleared to enter. The laughter and chatter picked up again, and the music continued to play. As they made their way through the crowd, Luka and Wyatt were surprised to find that the place was much larger than they had anticipated. The room stretched out before them, with an interior balcony and staircase at the far end, adding a sense of grandeur to the space.
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The decor was a mix of rough and elegant, with exposed brick walls and wooden accents, combined with plush furnishings and dim lighting. The overall effect was a unique blend of grit and sophistication.
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Luka couldn't help but notice how Wyatt seemed to blend in seamlessly with the atmosphere, his rugged good looks and casual attire fitting in perfectly with the pub's rough-around-the-edges vibe. She, on the other hand, stood out in her formal detective attire, her tailored suit and crisp blouse looking out of place among the pub's patrons.
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"You're really fitting in here, aren't you?" she whispered to Wyatt, nodding towards his casual clothes.
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Wyatt smiled and brushed it off. "No one will notice you," he said, his eyes scanning the room.
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But as they made their way through the crowd, Luka couldn't help but notice that people's gazes were following them. She felt a bunch of heads turning towards her, and eyes scanning her up and down in a way that made her feel uncomfortable and even a little repulsive. She tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of being objectified.
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Just then, Wyatt nudged her and nodded towards the end of the counter, where a couple of seats had just become available. "Looks like we got lucky," he said, gesturing towards the seats.
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As they took their seats, Luka mentioned how fortunate they were to find the open seats, considering how busy the place was. But just as she was about to relax, a door opened behind them, and a man walked out, adjusting his belt. A trail of an unsavory smell followed him out of the room, and Luka's eyes widened as she realized that the door led to the restroom.
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"Oh, that explains why these seats were empty," Wyatt said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
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Luka's face screwed up in distaste. "Let's find other seats," she suggested, trying not to breathe in the smell.
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But Wyatt shook his head. "It's already packed in here. It'll take a while to find other empty seats, and all that walking has left my legs a little tired. Let's just stay here for now."
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Luka hesitated, but eventually nodded in agreement. They would have to endure the smell for a little while longer.
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He signaled the bartender, ordering them a couple of drinks. The bartender smiled and struck up a conversation as he took their orders.
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Luka took this opportunity and asked, "By the way, do you know someone by the name of Del Toro?"
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The waiter's smile faltered for a split second before he recovered, his expression smoothing out into a mask of ignorance. "I'm afraid I don't know that name," he said, his tone a little too casual.
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Luka and Wyatt exchanged a brief, knowing glance. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to convey their mutual understanding that the bartender was lying.
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Luka's voice took on a persuasive tone as she leaned forward. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just need to get some information."
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The bartender shook his head, this time he was as cool as a cucumber. "Ma'am, as I said before, the name does not ring any bell," his tone firmer this time.
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As he turned to leave, Luka made to stand up and follow, but Wyatt's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. He held her in place, his grip firm but gentle.
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"Let's not draw too much attention to ourselves," he whispered, his voice low and urgent. "This place is crawling with hired guns looking for an excuse, and we don't want their company."
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Luka's eyes narrowed, her gaze snapping to Wyatt's. "How do you know that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
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Wyatt's eyes scanned the room, his expression thoughtful. "You could say that I picked up a sixth sense for trouble from my time on the streets," he said, his voice low. "My instincts are telling me to keep a low profile, even if we are cops. Let's not piss off anybody we don't have to."
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Luka's gaze lingered on Wyatt's, her expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness. She slowly sat back down, her eyes never leaving his.
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Wyatt's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze piercing as he resurfaced his earlier question. "About your source... you gonna tell me who it is?" he asked, his tone firm but persuasive.
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Luka hesitated, her eyes briefly looking away before returning to Wyatt's. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, weighing the pros and cons of sharing her information.
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"If I'm going to help you in this case, I need to know what you're working with," Wyatt said, his voice low and reasonable. "I need to be looped in on what you know Luka."
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She took a moment to ponder his words, her expression thoughtful. After a moment, she nodded, seeming to come to a decision. "Alright," she said, her voice measured. "My informant deals in guns and ammunitions. He owns a store across the city..."
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Wyatt's eyes narrowed, his face processing the information. He was silent for a moment, his mind racing through his mental log of stores that supplied those products. And then, like a light bulb switching on, his expression changed as he cut her off. "Wait, you mean Fred?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.
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Luka's eyes widened, her gaze snapping to Wyatt's. "How did you figure that out so quickly?" she asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and surprise.
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Wyatt grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "It's pretty simple if you think about it actually," he said. "Fred literally supplies most of the guns and ammunitions in the city. If anyone's going to know something about guns, it's him."
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Luka couldn't help but laugh, impressed by Wyatt's quick deduction. "You clearly haven't lost your edge," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.
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Wyatt's grin widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not yet," he said, his voice low and confident. "So, is he a regular source of yours?"
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"Not really, but he comes in handy once in a while." Luka hesitated for a moment before continuing. "He's got a list of names of people he's sold guns and ammunitions to. Our forensics analyzed the shell casings to determine the type of gun used and matched them to to the firearms prominently sold by Fred."
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"Forensics should have come to me earlier, I would have saved you the time," he joked.
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"Yeah yeah mister detective..." She rolled her eyes and leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "A couple of months back, Fred said he sold a large shipment of guns and ammunitions to a group called The Golden Company."
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Wyatt's expression was fleeting, but Luka caught the brief flicker of recognition in his eyes before it disappeared. She noticed it and her curiosity was piqued. "You've heard of them" she asked, her tone neutral.
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Wyatt's face smoothed out, his expression unreadable. "I thought I had," he said, his voice measured. "The name sounds familiar but I don't recognize it."
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Luka's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Wyatt's face, wondering if he was telling the truth. She thought to herself that Wyatt was hard to read, but she brushed the thought aside, focusing on the information at hand.
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Wyatt's eyes seemed to sense her scrutiny and he shifted the conversation, his tone casual. "So, why are we here then?" he asked, his gaze sweeping the room.
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Luka pulled out a picture from her jacket and laid it in front of Wyatt, her eyes watching his reaction. "This burnt mask was found at the scene of the warehouse shooting incident," she said, her voice low. "Fred mentioned that we could get more information from here, from someone by the name of Del Toro."
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Wyatt's eyes dropped to the picture, his expression unreadable as he studied the burnt mask. For a moment, he was silent, his mind processing the information. Then, his eyes snapped back to Luka's, his gaze intense. "Well then," he sighed, "Let's see what we can dig up," he said, his voice low and determined.
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As they settled back into their seats, Luka's eyes kept drifting back to the door behind them, the smell creeping out every time someone entered or exited. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to position herself to minimize the impact of the odor.
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Wyatt, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the smell, his eyes scanning the room with a practiced intensity.
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As they waited, Luka couldn't help but notice the way the other patrons were still staring at her. She felt like a fish out of water, her formal attire standing out starkly against the pub's rough-and-tumble atmosphere.
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The bartender returned and handed them their drinks, this time armed with a poker face.
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Wyatt took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving the crowd.
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"You see anyone suspicious?" Luka asked, her voice low.
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Wyatt smiled, "Everyone here is suspicious." He laid back on his chair and got comfortable. "Just keeping an eye out for familiar faces that's all."
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Luka nodded, taking a sip of her drink as they continued to survey the crowd. The music was getting louder, and the laughter and chatter were growing more raucous. She felt a sense of unease growing inside her, a feeling that they were in for a long night.
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A couple more hours passed and they had nothing. As they sat at the bar, Wyatt had been nursing a series of beers, his eyes occasionally drifting away from the crowd to glance at Luka. The music and chatter in the background seemed to fade into a distant hum as they began to talk, their conversation punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter.
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Wyatt turned to Luka, his eyes locking onto hers with a hint of casual curiosity. "How's your sister doing?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but Luka knew better. She knew that Wyatt and her sister had history.
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Luka's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied Wyatt's face, searching for any hidden motives behind his question. But Wyatt's expression was neutral, his eyes giving away nothing. "She's okay," Luka replied, her voice measured.
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Wyatt nodded his head slowly, a small smile creeping onto his face. "That's nice," he said, his eyes seeming to genuinely care that her sister was alright. For a moment, Luka thought that was all he needed to know, but then she decided to share more.
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"Actually, she got married," Luka said, watching Wyatt's reaction closely.
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The smile on his face faltered, and for a moment, he looked like he'd been punched in the gut. He cleared his throat, his eyes narrowed and blinked rapidly as though to prevent a welled up tear in his eye from falling. He forced another smile onto his face, but it was a poor imitation of his charming grin. The smile was tight, strained, and utterly unconvincing. It was clear that the news had bothered him.
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"That's great," he managed to say, his voice a little too loud, a little too forced.
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Luka watched him, as he stared into his beer glass, his mind clearly processing what she had just told him, lost in a sea of memories. For a fleeting moment, she saw a glimmer of raw emotion. It was a look that spoke of regret, of what-ifs, and of a love that had been lost. The music and chatter in the background seemed to fade even further away, and all that was left was the two of them, suspended in a moment of awkwardness and unresolved history.
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Wyatt's eyes briefly locked onto hers and dropped, before he took a long swig of his beer, the glass clinking against his lips. Then, the mask slipped back into place, and Wyatt's expression smoothed out , his eyes giving away nothing.
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Suddenly a brief tremor swept across the room, rattling the glasses on the counter and unsettling the other patrons.
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The sudden movement caught Wyatt off guard, and he momentarily sobered up, his eyes snapping into focus as he grabbed onto the counter to stabilize himself.
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"What the hell was that?" he asked Luka, his voice low and concerned, as he looked around the room with a mixture of alarm and curiosity.
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Luka shook her head, her eyes scanning the room as she tried to make sense of the sudden movement. "I have no idea," she replied, her voice equally unsettled.
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The two of them turned and looked around the room, taking in the reactions of the other patrons. A few people had ducked under their tables, their faces pale and frightened, while others clung to each other, their eyes wide with worry.
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The tremor seemed to have passed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving behind an unsettling silence. The music had stopped, and the chatter had died down, replaced by an anxious murmur that rippled through the crowd.
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Wyatt's gaze met Luka's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the unspoken question hanging in the air: what had just happened? The moment of awkwardness between them was forgotten, replaced by a shared sense of unease and uncertainty.
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Just as Luka and Wyatt were exchanging worried glances, a sudden movement caught her attention. A man emerged from the shadows, his eyes fixed intently on Wyatt. Before Luka could react, the man swooped in, throwing a bag over Wyatt's head and pulling it tight.
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Luka's instincts kicked in, and she tried to stand up, but it was too late. Another figure appeared behind her, and a bag was thrown over her head, enveloping her in darkness. A hand clamped over her nose and mouth, holding a cloth that emitted a sweet, pungent smell.
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As the smell wafted up to her nostrils, Luka's senses began to blur. She tried to struggle, but her body felt heavy, her limbs unresponsive. The darkness closed in around her, and she felt herself being pulled down into a vortex of unconsciousness.
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The last thing she heard was the sound of her own ragged breathing, muffled by the bag, and the distant murmur of the pub's patrons, growing fainter and fainter until everything went black.
and then Add to home screen.