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Dirty Laundry

Chapter Eighteen

By Roofles

It was Thanksgiving morning and the police officers had everything set up.

Outside a rundown factory that had closed years ago, the four were piled into the back of an unmarked white van. The dilapidated vehicle was far newer underneath the hood, giving it the illusion the officers were going for. Just a beat up vehicle parked off to the side near the waterfront. The white was peeling off, there was rust around the wheels and several dents had been added to the outside to give the used, beat up appearance they had been going for.

It looked a lot like Clem’s truck, in a lot of ways.

Yet, in the back, there was the newest surveillance equipment available to the force for them to use. Checking the vehicle out was easy enough, the four agreeing that getting the other officers involved would only complicate matters.

Time was of the essence and they couldn’t risk bureaucratic bullshit holding them up. Not if they wanted to save their chief and the mayor of the city lives that is. Sometimes risk, as Logan knew, paid off the greatest. It was just succeeding, without dying, that counted in the end.

“Just slip in there. Get Barnard and get out.” Copper was going over the game plan with Logan who was getting ready.

Logan slipped out of his old clothes after the, much needed, power nap he had snuck in on the way here. Waking up, against, the boxer had been a rather pleasant treat. Clem had taken his lead and fallen asleep, the two propped up against the other as they slept in the back of the car as Copper drove. Clem was drooling and Logan didn’t have it in him to wake the canine up until he had too.

“Once we get the police chief, and mayor, we can high tail it out of there!” Hugo agreed, the German Shepherd wagging his tail as he looked between the others for verification. The youngest member of their unit, Hugo really was just a follower in the end.

Logan couldn’t hold it against the canine for his hand he played in all this… like so many others, he was just another pawn being used and tossed away when his move was made, giving up his piece on the field for the greater good. Just like so many others had…

The thought was bittersweet, in a lot of ways.

It was why Logan was here, this day. To help those out. Like Domino at the club. Like Bosch, the jaguar he’d met the first time he ended up at The Market. There was Sloan who’d been roped back into his family and even… Reese. A wolf who was just a byproduct of his family, of how society treated them. The perfect example of who was to really blame in all of this.

Society labeling them, branding them and might as well marking them with a scarlet letter. Warning others about the predator next door… So many suffered, lived and died underneath this burden. So many that didn’t deserve the cruel fate place on them. With lives, with families and homes of their own. Names and faces and…

Logan had learned a lot in these past couple of months. Starting with Bosch, ending with Reese… he had learned in a lot of ways, to see past the label society put on them. So many who could’ve gone on to be so much more than they were ever allowed to be…

Before being, unjustly, taken from this world all too soon.

But then, there were others. Others who deserved that label. Such as Mikhail.

That… that was a whole other issue.

If only things could just be like what the police trained them to be. That everything was just black and white. There were the good citizens and the bad. If only life could be so easy.

Then there was Logan in all this. Why was Logan here in all this mess? Was he here to play hero, as Milo had said. To dress up and pretend, put on the mask and…

Was that really why Logan was here? The tiger had said so on the phone. And no one seemed to know Logan as well as Milo did… or so he’d thought. Hearing his voice. Knowing what the tiger had done, was capable of; all of it had gotten through Logan’s defenses. The walls he created and built to separate himself, distance himself from others…

Crumbling down around him as he begun to care for the canine sitting here next to him. Clem offered him a smile as Logan glanced over at the dog waking up.

“I don’t want to lose him, too.” Logan realized then as he looked into the boxer’s weary eyes.

And that scared him.

Because maybe, maybe in the end Mikhail was right. Maybe Logan was as bad as him…

Selfish. Using Clem. Using the others. Planning all this for his own sake, for his own sense of justice and… revenge. Just playing cop, like a child would. Trying to solve all the problems on his own and just…

“Hey,” Clem spoke up, rubbing an eye and letting out a long yawn.

“Morning, handsome.” Logan replied as he buttoned up the white undershirt, planning on going very fancy for the event. He’d been here before. He knew what his job was. To blend in as one of the customers coming to partake in the dark dealings of the city.

Logan had on a wire and a headset, connected to the van. He’d be in touch with the three while he blended into the masses during this event. Keep them in touch before ditching the earpiece, and wire, once the time came.

“How long was I out?” Clem asked, smacking his lips and looking around. Copper passed him a cup of coffee.

“Long enough for the coffee to grow cold.” The bloodhound just offered in reply before turning back to the equipment. It was agreed that Hugo, Copper and Clem would stay in the van while Logan worked his magic inside.

The canines weren’t good at blending in or lying. They were followers, sure. They were good cops that were able to do their job, sometimes following orders to the point it harmed others. But, Logan knew that was because of those above them and not these dogs fault.

He couldn’t risk their lives in this. This was something Logan had to do, not them.

Clem hadn’t been comfortable with that, not this time. Logan had gone into a den of wolves, a den of lions and masquerade as hooker on more than one occasion… but this was different. Clem could see that. The boxer knew this wasn’t just his job, anymore. This was personal and despite how well Logan was holding himself, the canine worried for his friend.

“You sure about this?” Clem asked, wincing as he tasted the bitter black coffee. “You forgot the sugar.” He growled getting a chuckle from the human.

“I try not to touch the stuff,” Logan gestured down at himself. “Got to keep myself in peak, top physical condition.” He just smiled but the tone of his voice shifted and they both knew what he meant.

Logan didn’t just use his looks to his advantage. He was lean but fit. Solid, well rounded muscle underneath the suit he was putting on. It allowed him to fight if need be or run away. Whatever was the best option given the circumstance. It allowed the human to stand a chance… against those they were going against.

Most police officers refused to answer the call if they had to go by themselves. There were so many criminals out there of various sizes, breeds and species. You weren’t sure if you were going to walk through a door and get shot, get skunked or get mauled by a bear shot up with one of the street drugs going around.

Then, there was the other side.

The smaller species or fast ones. Chipmunks that could slip through cracks in the wall or cheetahs that could just sprint down the street leaving the cop eating their dust. A squirrel could pocket a knife in their cheek and you’d only know after a cavity search or they pulled it out and stabbed you in the back with it.

Logan had seen both situations before and, frankly, didn’t like getting stabbed if he could help it.

Most teams consisted of various species in order to cover each other weaknesses as well as match the criminals with their own strengths. Working as a team in order to take down those who’d do harm to their fair city. Or at least, that was the plan.

Logan didn’t work with others. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, far from it. He was a team player and was a good captain as the other three dogs saw it. It was a simple thing, only Clem seemed to have picked up over the years working with the human.

As long as Logan went in alone, it was only the human who’d get hurt in the end.

And even now, as Logan suited up slipping on a bullet proof liner for his vest, Clem couldn’t find the strength to stop him. Because, if Logan didn’t do this… who would? Who’d bother risking their own hide for someone else, another species! Someone they didn’t know or care for…

Maybe, Clem was a bad dog.

He did everything for his pack, his friends, for Reese… he did very little for strangers. The boxer could care less about the city as a whole, seeing this as just a job instead of how Hugo or Copper or even Logan saw it. This was just a nine to five for the boxer who wanted to get his paycheck, buy a beer and chill with his best friends, Togo and Reese, back home…

This wasn’t his line of work.

“Maybe I’m a bad dog…” Clem muttered under his breath, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and shaking his head, slapping himself awake at this point. “Okay, game plan.” He started up.

“We already went over that.” Copper just rolled his eyes, putting on a headset and going over the last minute details.

“Everything will be fine,” Logan just consoled him, patting the boxer on the head making Clem’s ears splay out. “Can I talk to you, before hand, though?” He asked and it was hard to say no to him as Logan continued petting the canine as if knowing Clem couldn’t refuse his request when he did so.

“What’s up?” Clem asked as the two moved to the far back of the van, not stupid enough to step out and risk blowing their cover anymore than they possibly already had.

The waterfront was void of any other souls out this cold Thursday morning. Most the buildings around this part of the city had been condemned and, not being a commercial district, there was no other reason for others to be out here at this time. With broken windows, the walls vandalized with tags from the local gangs and several parts of the brick buildings either broken or half haphazardly boarded up as if that’d stop someone from breaking in; there was no reason for good, honest folk to be around this part of the city.

Even the chain link fences didn’t have proper locks on their gates. After all, why would someone break into a building that was empty, devoid of life or anything valuable and was condemned to boot? Sure, there were the wayward teen, homeless man or vagrant that might be a squatter for a little while but there was no reason to stay.

Still, that emptiness in itself was a concern in the big city.

There should be a drug deal going on, homeless around, bored teens or junkies looking for a spot to take their next fix. However, the officers had noted… there wasn’t a single soul out here other than them. Sometimes the lack of people could be far more worrisome than a crowd.

“You doin’ okay? How are your injuries?” Clem asked, talking about when Logan had gotten roughed up in the sewers.

“All good and, mostly, all healed up.” Logan just smiled though. It was a soft thing that seemed… sad, in a way. It pulled on the corner of his mouth, just enough for dimples to form on his tan cheeks.

The human had groomed his fur, as Clem liked to think of it; Logan had slickened up his hair with gel, trimmed his ever growing beard and had even touched up his eyebrows. He looked as young as he was. Just an early twenties something year old… about to walk into the black market.

“I’m in the prime of my life, Clem.” Logan felt the need to point out, to reassure the concerns crossing over the canines face. “I’m fine.” Logan just said and Clem felt his words stab at his chest.

Fine.

That word lingered in the air between the two. Just how… empty it was. It wasn’t good or great. It wasn’t bad or miserable. It was such an empty word. A word one said to reassure others, not themselves. A word you used to get your parents off your back, to get your counselor to write you off or for the coach to put you in the game despite knowing better.

It was an excuse the human could say, could use… to always throw himself into the fire, no matter how many times he got burned from it.

“Logan,” Clem started up.

“You know you and Domino would be great together.” Logan suddenly brought up, distracting the canine from what he’d been about to say. Logan knew. He heard it so many times before. It was one reason why his dates never lasted.

No one liked seeing their love one run, willingly, into the burning building.

“Wait, what?” Clem just gave him a look.

“Yeah. He, sure, he like talks about you a lot. And you two seemed to have grown close, over the weeks you’ve been together!” Logan just went on easily enough, not seeming to see an issue in any of this. “The two of you are really good for each other. Have a lot in common. Both thick headed guys that’s more bark than bite,” he chuckled as he placed a hand on Clem’s shoulder.

The boxer’s ears folded back as he growled at the presumption. Logan didn’t even seem to notice.

“H-how would we even be together? We’re both tops.” Clem grumbled, looking away as a flush took his cheeks.

“Clem,” Logan just gave him a look. “Come on. It’s me.” He added with that, sad, smile once more. “We both know what kind of guys you’re into…” He said, lowering his voice so the other two canines couldn’t pick up on it. He was sure they could but they both pretended not to hear either of them. “It’s okay to admit it…”

“I’m a top!” Clem said loudly getting a look from Copper now. The bloodhound rolled his eyes and looked back at the screen, adjusting a dial hoping the frequency would work with where Logan was planning on going.

The cement tunnels, piping of the city and sewers could interfere with the line.

“Right, right.” Logan just nodded before giving him a look. “Clem. You’re the biggest pillow biter, butt sniffer, tail raiser this side of the Rocky Mountains has ever seen or known.” The human just smiled at the look he got from the boxer. A mix of anger and embarrassment. “And Domino knows that…”

“W-what are you even talking about?” Clem grew even more flustered as he quickly looked over at the other two dogs that were clearly pretending to be enraptured by their job and, while clearly were eavesdropping on the two, didn’t want to get pulled into this.

“He really likes it when you play with his sheath.” Logan just went on, with a nod. Talking about this as if they were in college, trying to hook up his friend with a good lay. “And his sack.”

“Logan!” Clem whined now, pulling on his floppy ears and nearly howling in the back of the van.

“Like, really really likes it when you do.” Logan just continued, not even seeming to hear what Clem had to say in any of this. “He’s a total sheath slut. Just give it a few rubs, a few sniffs and some licks and he’ll be panting and whining for you. Stick your finger in!”

“For fuck sake, Logan!” Clem covered his face, bowing his head as the human patted his back as if consoling the boxer on his deep dark secret the three officers already seemed to know of.

“He’s a rough lover but can be very gentle and caring too.” Logan just went on. “Dom likes it when you focus on him, compliment him… take him out somewhere, just the two of you. Give him that attention and he’ll be eating out of your hands, my dude. I promise.”

“Why would I even be interested in him?” Clem tried to argue.

“The two of you would be really cute together, I think.” Logan just thought about it for all of three seconds before giving a nod. “Yeah. The two of you would be really good for each other.”

“Why are you talking about this, now! Now of all times?” Clem whined.

Logan gave him a look, holding his gaze for a couple of long drawn out seconds. As if… trying to remember Clem’s face. His features. Those strong cheeks, that dark orange fur and white markings on the boxer’s face. His big black nose and his whiskers… his floppy ears and just…

“If something happens to me, please promise you’ll take care of Dom for me? Okay?” Logan asked softly, his voice as sad as his smile was.

“Logan.” Clem whined louder.

“Please, promise me Clem.” Logan said again, tightening his grip on his friends shoulder. Not to the point it was painful, no. Just… begging? Was that what Logan was doing? The dog, this canine could understand that. “Please, watch out for my friend.”

Clem couldn’t say no to that, couldn’t say no to Logan.

Maybe, I’m a bad dog… making my friend upset like this, Clem struggled with the internal thoughts as he bowed his head once in a nod. He didn’t want Logan to be upset with him. He didn’t like when others were angry at him… ironic, with his line of work. But that was why Clem was just some street cop. He didn’t do what these others did.

He was always there, on the sidelines. Watching everyone else inside.

For the longest of time, Clem thought that was for the best. To be there for his friend, to watch their back but not to interfere with their life. Covering for Reese behind the wolf’s back without mentioning it to him, without… trusting him, to understand why Clem did what he did.

He did what he thought was best.

Without saying anything to them. Like with Reese. Reese was so hard to talk to as it was! Clem was sure that, if he just did this for him, he’d understand in the end. Once Reese found out though, the wolf had been avoiding him since. Unable to talk to him about it all. Clem hoped he got the chance to make amends for being… a bad dog.

He knew Togo dating that human was risky. That he should’ve helped him out in the matter. Clem had just stood aside and watched, laughing at his friend instead of offering him a friendly paw in it all. He was glad that had all worked out in the end but… but he could’ve done more. He was a bad friend then too, and a bad dog…

Maybe he should’ve helped Alan, when he showed. When he went to that place… that place alone. To find his friend, to save the white furred wolf. All Clem did… was sit back, watch and hope for the best.

That everything would work out in the end.

That way Clem wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. He wouldn’t have to risk incurring the wrath of the local strays that ended up burning down his parent’s farm. If he was a good dog, a good boy… standing there in the background, maybe then others wouldn’t bring harm to him. Or harm to ones he loved…

And that was why Clem accepted the hug Logan gave him, and watched… watched as the human got out of the back of the van to go and meet the jaguar showing up to join them. Why he watched as Logan got ready to head into the den of murderers and all the boxer could do…

Was watch.

Watch from the sidelines, as his friend went into the pits of hell. For what? What he believed in and trusted. Logan followed that good will, no matter how many scars it gave him. To save more lives than Clem ever had or ever would.

All Clem wanted was to protect his pack, his family, his home… and Logan, these days, was part of that too, wasn’t he?

And the boxer reached out a hand, hesitating as he withdrew it. Wanting to call out. To say something. To get the human to forget all about this. Tell him good luck or would that jinx it? Clem just let out a soft whine as, in the end, all the boxer could do was let out a soft whine…

“Please, don’t go…” Clem asked. Clem begged. The canine pleading, pleading for the human to return safely as he joined up with the ashen gray furred jaguar. But his voice was lost in the wind with the whine that follow. “Please, come back…” The boxer hesitated. Wanting to get up, to get out of the vehicle to follow the human.

Logan was running towards the predator, the jungle cat, stepping out of his car to join him as Hugo shut the back of the van and got to business. Clem just watched, watched from the back of the van as Logan went where he couldn’t follow.

“Ready?” Bosch asked, double checking his phone before giving a single nod at what he’d seen. Confirming his contact on the inside was still willing to help them once he knew which entrance they were using.

It wasn’t the issue of finding where The Market was. In a way, they both knew. They’ve always known where it was. It was the reason why this very city, like so many others around the world, was rotting from the inside.

The Market had always been held underneath the city, within the undergrounding piping, sewers and tunnels, the very guts and bowels of the city that had always been used as the lifeline for the criminal underbelly. Trafficking of all kinds passed through these tunnels like trucks on a highway or blood in ones veins carrying the vitals one needed to survive. For a city like this to truly thrive. Shipments of weapons, drugs… people, it didn’t matter.

So long as it paid.

Kept the rivers of red flowing.

“I scoped out the area already,” Logan nodded and Bosch gave a single second worth of a smile in return. “No guards.” He added and the jaguar frowned at that.

“They said,” Bosch mentioned as he looked over at the van. Three faces were looking out the back of it over at the two from one of the windows. Or rather, at the jaguar whose frown only grew. “They said their boss used this place, right?”

Logan gave a single nod as he turned back towards the others and tried too, not so subtly, tell them to cut it out without just outright yelling at the three nosy canines. The three dogs basically holding it against the jaguar for being a predator. Hell, Logan could see Hugo and Clem growling at the feline.

“Must be one of the back, side entrances then.” Bosch thought it over. “There are plenty of front doors, we could’ve used…” He added. Logan knew what he meant. The thought had crossed his mind a couple of times. Known places of heavy traffic that might as well be bright neon signs announcing it was the entrance to the underbelly of the city.

After all, these places were an open market practically servicing more than just what the two of them were looking into. Drugs, woman, guns, meats… it was a market that catered to ones sickest desires and sins, happily offering a cure for what itches you. For the right price, that is.

If the two had gone in through the front doors however, they’d have been spotted instantly and shot and killed. Or worse.

There were several entrances, around the city, that fed into these tunnels. This network and labyrinth of tunnels underneath city. They were well known and just as easily forgotten. It was easier to sleep at night forgetting about what lurks underneath the very streets. Willful ignorance made one happy and dumb. Each of the criminal gangs would have their own network of tunnels that they would hold access too. They would use the spot to traffic their own lot, their own goods as well as use them to gain access to The Market as need be.

The market itself wasn’t open twenty four seven. If it was, the police could’ve, possibly, done something about it. That amount of goods being moved would’ve tipped someone off that couldn’t just bury the information away underneath mounds of money, or bodies.

But, at the same time, there was a necessity for such places in the civilized world. There was a reason why predators didn’t just snap and attack innocence on the street in broad daylight. These people were… taken care of. Their desires, their hungers and lusts were spotted by recruiters hiding in blame sight; these men and woman would offer a means to sate such urges and, in the long run, it was for the good of everyone if they did.

And in turn, The Market thrived because of these junkies.

There was a delicacy to it, Logan knew. Bosch had taught him many things over the years ever since he accidentally made contact with the jaguar on the inside.

Bosch had his own… interests, in the matter. Things even Logan hadn’t been able to sex out of the jaguar, back when they were together. Bosch ass wasn’t the only thing tight about him. Still, it had been fun and exactly what Logan had needed, in a way, to get over his ex. Now? It was more some off fun side things Logan could get when he needed rather than try to grill the jaguar for the juicy details he was trying to hide and not the sticky ones he was willing to give.

“Barnard isn’t here…” Logan noted and the jaguar frowned at that. They had hoped to catch their police chief in the act before the act was even committed. “His car was spotted out back, next to the water.” Logan gestured which only complicated things further.

“Already inside?” The jaguar words were slow and steady as he mulled it over. The two thinking the the same on the matter. If the gang, most likely The Pride, had no more uses for Barnard they’d dispose of him and add him to the haul.

Not that many would buy dog meat. They would, however, buy the right to beat up or kill the police chief of the city…

“What’s the plan, boss man?” Logan asked glancing over at Bosch. The jaguar was still lost in thought over the matter. Those stunning, bright catlike eyes shifted to look at the human at his side.

“They already know me. I can’t just slip in like I used too... Security is too tight for that. I’ll be spotted instantly…” Bosch frown grew. He was injured, they both knew, after being shot by the very man they were trying to rescue.

“They don’t know me. Not yet.” Logan just casually finished the thought for him. Bosch and him had done this dance before. Each having their own reasons for being here, being back at this place. The jaguar had held back from asking much of Logan on the matter no matter how much the human insisted he help out. After Bosch’s cover had been blown, the jaguar had left The Market behind for over the past year, getting close to the mayor of the city and serving as her personal bodyguard after the Equality bill had gone through.

If he hadn’t been double crossed by Barnard, Bosch would still be guarding the mayor.

“No one will suspect me.” Logan bragged but the jaguar quickly made sure to nip that in the bud. Overconfidence in their line of work got you dead, fast.

“Some do.” Bosch made sure to point out and remind Logan in warning. He knew the human knew that. It was something that still needed to be said as Logan grimaced a bit, having been caught like this. He was still a young kid, Bosch knew; he knew he was asking too much of the human even to this day. “Do they know that?” The jaguar went on, gesturing with his muzzle towards the nearby van. “Do they know that others will spot you inside…”

To him, the van stood out on the otherwise empty street. Bosch thought it was stupid to pull anyone else into this but Logan reassured him on the matter.

“They’re far more experience than they let on. Well, other than Hugo that is…” Logan just shrugged the last one off. “And what they don’t know,” Logan started up with.

“Won’t hurt them.” Bosch nodded. He had been the one to teach Logan that cruel lesson.

“A lie of omission,” Logan continued.

“Might as well be the truth.” The jaguar smiled, tail flicking. At least someone paid attention when he bothered to teach the once rookie cop how to do this. “You brought a knife, I assume?”

“Always.” Logan just gave a single nod. And, once more, Bosch seemed pleased.

“Good. Once we’re inside, you’re gun will be confiscated.” Bosch noted and Logan just nodded, not interrupting as the two went over it. There was a respect there that the jaguar just ate in. Logan had confided in him, told him everything after Bosch had saved his life and ever since the jaguar, in a way, felt like a mentor for the human. “Smart to bring it still.” The jaguar seemed to be in good spirits. Logan just wished his insides matched his outsides; it was easy for the human to put on airs and appearances around others.

It didn’t stop the turmoil from rolling around inside.

“Once we get in, blend into the crowd and just,” Bosch lifted a hand as if he were teaching Logan once more.

“Blend in.” Logan just stated with a smirk. “Look who you’re talking too!” The human opened his arms, standing on one leg and leaning backwards. “I got this,” he added smoothing out the suit he was wearing. “I learned from the best, after all.” He smiled and the jaguar’s tail flicked once more.

Bosch leaned down to sniff him. Making sure Logan had the proper amount of deodorant and cologne on to hide his scent and smell. He needed to blend in, not stand out. There was an art to blending in. It wasn’t about changing your face or anything drastic like that, no. It was the smell. The look and airs you gave off. The soft touches like the handkerchief neatly folded in the front pocket of the suit Logan had on.

Look like you owned something. You had money. Look like you belong. Don’t smell but don’t not not smell. A fine line to walk, never veering off one way or the other and yet needing to adjust at a moment’s notice.

It’s what Logan had been doing for the last several years of his life.

“Ready?” Bosch simply asked and Logan gave a single nod.

“Right behind you, boss.” And the two made their way across the street, across the parking lot and towards the fenced gate surrounding the building without looking back.

“What are you going to do?” Logan dared to ask as the two made their way through the broken fence gate, slipping through without daring to touch the thing. Something about it told Logan that it would be very unwise to touch the humming metal fence.

There might be cameras but if they were quick, they might get lucky. There were far too many spots to keep track of these days with The Market growing as fast as it was.

“I have things to take care of that I left alone for too long.” Bosch just replied, adjusting his cufflink before motioning towards a nearby, broken window. Neither of the two bothered to use the door that was slightly ajar.

Logan easily made it up to the window with the jaguar’s help. He caught the frame, pulling himself up and over before dropping down. Bosch was behind him instantly. The jaguar easily clearing the jump that would’ve been impossible for the human without his assistance. Such, small, things like this stood out to Logan who knew what someone like Bosch was capable of.

If it wasn’t for the gun on his side and knife, hidden on his person, Logan would’ve been afraid of the jaguar stalking behind him in the shadows. Bosch didn’t need his hands or claws. His jaws alone could close around Logan’s neck and just… snap.

“Over there,” Bosch motioned for Logan, using military signs to indicate rather than words. Neither of the two talking as they made their way over to the open metal doors jutting out of the ground.

There were the steps leading further inside the otherwise bare bone building. Logan would’ve never guessed this place was once a cheesecake factory if Copper hadn’t told him. Just a pair of doors with steps leading down.

Stairs leading down underneath the earth’s surface. They were old steps, slimy and covered in moss. Logan had seen them before, if only once. They weren’t the same and yet… they looked like it. They still kept him up at night as he went ahead of the jaguar who followed behind. They didn’t bother shutting the old rusty doors, knowing they were like that for a reason.

Someone had come through here before either of them had. They’d have triggered whatever security device was on the doors or in the stairs; leaving them a chance to slip in unnoticed, hopefully.

The air was heavy and thick, stale and yet the humidity made the two begin to sweat as they walked down the long pathway in the dark. Bosch easily made his way in front of Logan, and despite himself, the human had taken the jaguar’s offered hand as he helped guide him through the dark. Leading him further into these depths instead of out of them, as he’d done several years ago.

Logan couldn’t trust Bosch, not fully. The jaguar was hiding something from him. Just like every one of these predators seemed too… his hand was warm though. There was a strength to it, yet a control that made Logan feel… like a child, being led out of the dark by his father.

“Thank you…” Logan said, so softly, he barely heard it himself. Those bright eyes glanced back at him but the jaguar didn’t show any sign otherwise of hearing him.

“Just keep that head firmly planted on your shoulders, kid.” Bosch said and Logan could tell, by his heavy voice, the jaguar was far older than he realized the feline to be. It was hard, at times, to know an age of one of… them.

Their fur hid it well. There were several products out there that one could use to dye their fur. Every kind of shampoo and conditioner in the stores claimed to boost the longevity and vitality of one’s fur. It was the small things, like the rough calluses paw pads holding Logan’s hand… that told the human, just how old Bosch was.

And just how young he really was, in the end of things.

If it hadn’t been for Bosch, Logan would’ve been dead a long time ago.

“Yeah…” Logan tried to say, tried to smile but he didn’t feel it when he did. It felt as hollow and empty as he felt in that moment as he came back to this place.

“If it’s too much,” Bosch started up with. Logan knew the jaguar would keep going even if he left the human behind. He couldn’t do that to him, not to Bosch.

Not after the jaguar had saved his very life in these tunnels.

Logan was here for Bosch as much as he was here for himself… and his brother.

“I’m fine.” Logan just said, smiling so genuine that if Bosch didn’t know any better he’d have believed the words the human said.

There was a quick tap on the nearby door, making the two stop. Logan could barely see the outline of the metal door in the cement tunnel and hung back, needing the jaguar to be his eyes as his hand drifted down to the gun holstered at his side.

“Psst,” a voice said in a hushed, yet loud voice. It was shaking. Not the voice, but the door from whoever was holding it trying to go unseen.

“That wasn’t the password,” Bosch sighed noticeably relaxing next to the human putting Logan at ease, somewhat. “Bartholomew.” The jaguar just said as the door creaked open and a brown face, striped hyena poked his head out.

“Is it just you?” Bartholomew asked before looking at Logan. His eyes narrowed, lips lifting to reveal grimy yellow fangs. Hyena’s were known for their strong jaws and Logan didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that grimy, yellow tooth smile. Then Bartholomew relaxed, “Oh,” and realized who the human was. “Logan!” Bartholomew swung the door open and came on out to give the human a hug.

Logan had no say in the matter as Bosch, skillfully, stepped aside as his other assistant wrapped his arms around Logan’s entire body and hoisted him off the ground in a hug.

“Bart.” Logan patted the hyena’s back several times before needing to shove him off. Logan spent some time to smooth out his suit.

“Is everyone here?” Bosch frowned, thinking it over. The hyena shook his head.

“Nah, man. They like all,” the hyena stepped aside and dramatically gestured for the two to head inside. “All like setting things up for tonight.” Bartholomew kept scratched the side of his thick, black striped neck as he looked from side to side as if suffering from a bad case of fleas… and paranoia. “Big event happening tonight!”

“Tonight?” The two frowned at that.

“The main festivities, of course.” The hyena cackled loudly getting the jaguar to forcibly shut his mouth. It didn’t stop the hyena from laughing though. “The auction,” he added at the end with a knowing smirk after Bosch eased up on him.

“Right.” Bosch said, clearly knowing of it. “Have they revealed the main… prize, yet? This year…” The jaguar asked and the hyena shook his head.

“Nah, nah. Can’t ruin the surprise!” Bartholomew just continued to laugh to himself as he moved past them leading the way. “I got bets on it anyways!” The two didn’t point out who would be up for sale this year, knowing the shit storm it would cause if it were to get out.

They wanted to sneak in and out, not cause a riot.

“Come on, I’ll lead from here.” Bartholomew held up a flashlight and proceeded ahead of the two. Logan made sure, with a look, that Bosch was okay with the hyena tagging along. They really couldn’t afford to be double crossed right now.

Logan was glad for it, though. Despite how loud the hyena was, these tunnels were a winding mess and even with a map he knew he’d get lost. There were so many branching paths and tunnels jutting out. Some of which, he knew, led to dead ends. It was how he ended up inadvertently meeting the two.

These tunnels carved out once for the subterranean species out there, being used for housing, room and board back in the day. Far more winding and confusing than, say, a city run by human’s would’ve been. Moles were practically blind and relied on their other sense and back then they weren’t regulated with their digging as they were now.

Logan tried not to think about it, just watching the large, heavy set hyena before them.

Bartholomew was the second cousin to the current leader of The Clan, as The Cackle would just sound silly even for hyenas; the hyena gang along the west coast. Only females could lead a cackle and The Clan was run by a pair of sisters that were as fierce, and crazy, as Vicky of the wolf pack without the drugs added into the mix. Logan had the fortune of never having to run into either of the two.

“Why are you helping us?” Logan had to ask, he didn’t mean to come off as accusing as he did. It was this place. It was setting him on edge and he apologized quickly, not wanting to ruin the good will the hyena had for the two.

“I’m helping Bosch.” Bartholomew just said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He saved my life.” The hyena just said getting a look from the human. “I’m not that big of a deal, see.” Bartholomew explained, sort of. “I might be related to the sis’ up above but like not enough for them to even… care? Or notice? So like, if you make an oopsie…”

“You end up on the chopping block yourself.” Bosch finished for the now nervous hyena who just let out a soft, uneasy laugh thinking about if the sisters found out about what he was doing right now. “Of course, the product isn’t usually for sale. Maybe back to the family of the person… Force their family to literally buy their son or daughter back. Piece. By. Piece.” The jaguar just shrugged casually. “It’s about the message it sends.”

“To everyone else.” Logan nodded, knowing mob tactics. He was only twenty-five, his birthday just the other week… not that he told anyone. He had more pressing matters to deal with than that. The only person, who even bothered to celebrate his birthday… wasn’t with him anymore.

“Exactly!” The hyena pointed at Logan, nodding several times. “So like, this guy here,” Bartholomew jabbed a thumb at the jaguar as they continued. Logan guessed they had been here over fifteen minutes by now and could hear the crackle from his ear piece.

He still had signal but for how long? He wasn’t sure. The tunnels most likely were cutting off the signal. The deeper they went the harder it was to check in with the others.

That was fine. The goal was to get the two and get them up and out of here, using the van as a well, a getaway van. Logan didn’t plan to keep in touch with the others; it was more for their own peace of mind, not his. He didn’t plan on heading back with them… not until he finished this.

He always knew he’d die in these tunnels.

“He saved my hide! Literally! They were gonna like skin me!” The hyena just laughed as the other two grimaced. There was a particular… group of humans, that liked to buy pelts from people like them and made a market for it. It wasn’t just for medical purposes either.

Sick costume parties, for starts, where they’d dress up in their skins and pretend to be… Logan felt his stomach churn and decided not to think any further about it. Dealing with predators was bad enough.

“Plus I keep his itch covered,” the jaguar added in talking about whatever kind of sin, or drug, the hyena had in mind.

“I’ve been good though! Been sober all day!” The hyena smiled as if it were some great achievement as he scratched insistently at the spot on his neck. The fur there was thinner than the rest of his neck and Logan was sure it was some sort of patch the hyena slapped on to get it into his system. Whatever it was.

“Very impressive,” Logan ended up saying as if the man, who he also was sure was older than he was, was nothing more than a child. “Good job.”

The hyena just grinned a grimy yellow smile in reply at that.

“I’m very proud of you.” Logan continued and the hyena giggled a bit.

“Thanks. I’m doing good.” Bartholomew itching stopped for a few moments as he smiled at the human before going back at it.

“We’ll be breaking off soon,” Bosch said tracing a hand on the wall and recognizing one of the symbols the market used to indicate where things were. “Bartholomew and I will take care of our end of things.” He nodded at Logan. “You make sure to watch your back, kid.”

The lights were beginning to turn on around them giving the human a chance to walk on his own. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding the jaguar’s hand nearly the entire time.

“Thanks for the help,” Logan nodded to him. “I appreciate it.” He added, sheepishly letting go of Bosch and taking a single step away, giving the jaguar some breathing room.

“Of course.” Bosch gave one of his rare smiles. “Take care… and if it’s too much, fall back. You’re young and this place isn’t going to go anywhere.” The jaguar tried to appear calm but there was a lingering doubt of worry in his eyes as the human took a step away from the two.

“I’m fine.” Logan just said back with a shrug. “I’m used to going solo.”

“Hah,” the hyena just said as if it were some kind of joke. “I’m used to that too.” He added and the other two ignored him.

“Call, if you need.” Bosch said giving him a look. “It’s okay to fall back, if need be. Regroup. We can always try again, in the future…”

“We got no service down here.” Logan just tapped his ear, the crackling making him wince. “I’ll just go ‘pstpstpst’ until you come.” The human teased and the jaguar snarled in reply before looking away.

“Just… be careful, dammit kid.” And with that Bosch went his way with the hyena in tow, asking about his reward for helping the two out. Logan was sure Bosch had only called Bartholomew in to help out the human, the jaguar planning on going in alone.

Much as he had been.

“I’m fine.” Logan just waved after them before turning away and heading towards the other direction. He’d need to get into character to get through this. Slipping his mask back on, he walked into the dens of thieves, murderers and cannibals…

After all, the only way to catch a tiger was to walk into their den…

…

On the other side of the city there was an entrance from the lion’s side of town. What they called “Little Sicily.” A slice of Italy they had brought with them and set up amongst all their homes and shops. The lion’s den had a connection leading to the front entrance of The Market where all the big wigs used, Sloan knew.

They were here to make an appearance after all. To showcase and broadcast to the rest of the gangs that they were here and they were in charge.

The lion was dressed up in his fanciest suit. A dark purple, almost black silk blend Italian made suit that had been imported from overseas. His family, currently in one of their restaurants downtown, were dressed in similar matching three piece blue and black suits. Some even put on fedoras or other accessories to compliment their outfits. Each wanting to stand out in their own way.

Tonight would change everything for them.

Lorrell was standing nearby with an open suit that shows all of her… assets, a weapon in itself in this line of work. Her coat trailed down to her heels and was cut down the back for her tail to easily slip through. Her hair was down once more and she had enough make up on to fool even the smartest of prey species into forgetting she was a lioness.

Lorenzo Kincaid had gone another route altogether. His suit looked worn and torn, beaten up and battered covered in wrinkles as if it had been in a wadded ball before he put it on. The lion had most likely pulled it out of his hamper that very morning. His fur was sticking up and out, the one good side of his face was gelled back while the other hadn’t even been touched reminding Sloan of a certain superhero villain.

“Must we all go to this?” Lorrell scoffed, looking at her two brothers before walking over to help Enzo out with his tie that he’d been fussing with the past five minutes.

“It feels like a noose,” the younger, smaller male hissed as she came over to assist him. Enzo didn’t stop her, meekly turning his head away and letting his big sister fix his tie as if he were just an insolent child not wanting to go to Sunday church.

“Well, you look very good in this noose.” Lorrell just said in turn, dusting off his shoulders from the flakes of skin that had fallen from the burned side of his face.

“We need to make an appearance,” Sloan just rolled his eyes knowing how that was like. The lion had spent half of his adult life making appearances for people. For work. For friends and later on, family. He swore people cared more about that than what they were actually doing or what they could bring to the table.

“If we’re going to take over the trade,” Lorrell went on with a roll of her eyes.

“And unite the other gangs,” Enzo added on making sure to be involved in this. In a way he was in charge and in a way he… wasn’t. As if everyone understood the young, frail, burned lion wasn’t capable of handling that kind of responsibility.

He was just a figurehead for The Pride to rally behind in the comings weeks and months as they took over.

Sloan just felt pity for his brother. Why Lorrell seemed to be using him to increase her own standing; by the end of this whole charade, Sloan was sure Lorrell would be the one pulling the strings to puppet Enzo. If she wasn’t already… or if he survived that long.

“Unite the gangs, create one Empire in the city and…” Enzo trailed off, his eyes looking elsewhere as if trying to figure out where this plan went. Why they were doing this. And what it had all cost them to be here, now, in this spot.

“Run everything, as it should be.” Lorrell just finished for Enzo who looked up at her, eyes slightly unfocused as his big sister patted the good side of his face. “Once we’re in charge, you’re in charge…” She said slowly as if making sure Enzo could register everything. “Then we can be free of all this.”

“Right.” Enzo nodded before just nodding once more. “Right, then we can be free of this…”

Sloan could only frown, watching his two siblings.

Jeron hadn’t been like them, no. Sure, he wanted what was best for the family. Best for lions! He wanted to make a difference so that they, lions, could actually be part of society as a whole instead of used and tossed aside, exploited for their looks and regal status and physical appearance… before being discarded with yesterdays trash.

He, Jeron, had tried to change things. And look where that got him… the bitter thought lingered as Sloan just looked at his family. The last two members of his family, he should say. Looking at Lorenzo and what kind of position he was pointing himself in. Would they, he? End up with the same fate as Jeron had?

Killed trying to make a difference.

“Jeron stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.” Lorrell brought up seeing the look on her eldest brothers face. Sloan just grimaced at that. He hated how good she was at reading him. It hadn’t been long since he rejoined the family and she was already reading him like an open book. “He… was too gentle, in the way he wanted things to change.” She added on, as if in Jeron’s defense.

“What? A wrecking ball isn’t loud enough?” Sloan growled, only when Enzo had stepped aside. He didn’t want to concern Enzo with anything more than the lion was already suffering from.

“If you aren’t making waves…” Lorrell trailed off, crossing her arms and turning away from the other lion. “Father grew… content, with what we had. Even after the attacks, losing territory, losing family… he was a happy fat cat that didn’t want to try anymore.” Her voice grew dark as she contained her anger on the matter. “He was happy with throwing away the young in order to make sure his saucer of cream arrived each and every morning…”

“Yes, but this…” Sloan took a step forward, trying to offer.

“I hunger, Sloan.” Lorrell turned to face him then and the look in her eyes made the other, larger, lion take a step back. “I know you do too. I know Enzo, the others… lions. Do too.... Lions weren’t meant to eat tofu. We weren’t meant to eat our greens like some kind of… vegetarian.” She said, choosing the word carefully. Sloan knew what she wanted to say.

Prey.

Lions weren’t prey and they defiantly didn’t like being treated like them. Caged up, declawed and thrown scraps from the table. They weren’t house cats, they weren’t some of the lesser, smaller feline species… they were lions and their pride would be their end, Sloan knew.

Lions were too prideful to just sit back and accept their new lot in life. Lorrell didn’t just want to eat meat. She wanted so much more than that. To be in the spotlight, to stand out, to be recognized for the greatness she was, to be above others and admired for it.

Not ashamed to look at her own reflection in the mirror.

“That’s not to say I want to eat your assistant,” Lorrell suddenly brought up with a chuff of a laugh as she covered her mouth with a decorated clawed hand. Her nails were fake but sharp, lifted up over each finger to allow her real nail to slip free if need be.

In a way, it was so she never dirtied her own hands. It seemed poetic for her, using others and never getting her own mittens dirty in the process. Yeah, Sloan realized. His father had been too arrogant and too traditional to notice that there was someone here, this entire time, that could run The Pride in his absence.

Sloan’s fur bristled and he could feel his mane lifted up and out as anger at the very idea of Lorrell getting her hands on him, on his assistant; anger that was boiling to the point Sloan was baring his fangs at his own sister, claws extending as his tail lashed madly behind him like a beheaded serpent.

“Easy,” she laughed though calming him down. Sloan still glared at her. “It was just a silly… joke.” The lioness smiled then. She had brought Logan into this for a reason.

As if saying she had a means of controlling Sloan, just as she clearly had a means of controlling Enzo.

“I think he’s rather… cute. I can see why you like him.” Lorrell inspected her nails. “…what do you know of him?” She continued getting a look from Sloan as she purposefully didn’t meet his eyes.

“We worked together at my old… job.” Sloan just glared back, knowing Lorrell had done her own research into the matter. She was the one who didn’t know when not to stick her nose into things.

Sloan might’ve been out of this line of work for a while but he hadn’t forgotten the trade. And he wasn’t above showing what a lion could do when push comes to shove.

“He’s a very… interesting, guy.” Lorrell just continued as they waited for the others to arrive. “He’s squeaky clean.”

“He’s a good guy…” Sloan just said in Logan’s defense.

“Went to school here, did you know?” Lorrell asked yet continued before Sloan could say anything. “His family was here. They moved away but he, your assistant, chose to stay…”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Sloan knew why Lorrell was saying this. He had forgotten just how manipulative and cunning she was.

A lioness doesn’t reach such a rank by just taking out the competition, no. They weren’t wolves, after all. It was what separated a canine and a feline, in the end. One uses brawn and the other brain, or so the lions liked to say. The lions were far more subtle with their exploitations of the city that tried to exploit them; the wolves were howling idiots, as far they were concern. Other than Enzo, the lions were far more indirect with their methods.

Just as Lorrell was being now.

“You know he wasn’t registered at Inc. Co.” Lorrell brought up getting a look from Sloan.

“Well, he had only been working there a couple of months or so before…” Sloan tried to think about when Logan had started. The human had just suddenly appeared as if out of thin air. Sloan had never gotten a chance to just sit down and talk with the man. To get to know him, his past and history. Sloan hadn’t even bothered looking over his file; seeing as how Logan had so willingly shown his capabilities, personally, for the lion under his desk.

Logan seemed to dodge the question whenever it came up and… at the time, it hadn’t been fishy.

But it smelled rancid now the more Sloan thought of it. And the more swill Lorrell fed him.

“No, I mean he was never technically employed there. At all.” Lorrell just looked back her hand, looking at the intricate design of the fake nails she’d gotten done for the event. There was a cute Chinese nail shop close to her home she liked to drop by from time to time; making sure they were paying their dues, of course. “Logan Smith never worked for Inc. Co. So, I was just wondering… why he was there?”

“I…” Sloan couldn’t answer that as the lioness brushed by him, her tail touching his own as she stopped at his side.

“I’m only looking out for you. And Enzo. After Jeron… after father… you two are all I have left.” Lorrell said softly to her eldest brother. “I know my methods may seem… shady. But I care. I care for you both and don’t want you getting hurt, Sloan, by some pretty face.” She gave him a look before walking by and once more had the smug swagger only a member of The Pride could have with her stride.

“Logan…” Sloan mumbled touching the phone in his pocket. He’d gotten a single text from the human saying he was sorry.

Sorry for what? Why did Logan just up and leave him… again… without a word. There were so many questions Sloan wanted answers for and only from Logan and was afraid. Afraid to get a single one for what it would mean for them. For him. And what his future had left in store.

“They’re here,” Lorrell called and Enzo and Sloan soon joined her.

The lions were shortly heading out, down their own access tunnel and towards the front entrance to the Black Market and their future. If Lorrell was to be believed, they would not only be unifying the other gangs this night but also be the ones running the show from now on.

The Pack was ancient history as everyone seemed to be concerned with. Vicky was a drugged up failure of an Alpha that had only been left around because of how unstable she was, destroying her own pack from within. The other gangs were hardly even worth mentioning, their numbers so few and their influence nonexistent.

Tonight would change everything, Sloan knew. He just wasn’t sure if he was on the right side in all this or not.

…

And still, even despite what had happened, the remnants of the pack were gathering for a raid of their own.

Led by Barreth, the group piled into their unmarked black vans and was heading towards an entrance they had secured in the past week. Planning on using it to gain access to the market on their own terms in order to finish this. Revenge was the best serve cold, and by surprise. It was all the sweeter to take place during such an influential holiday as Thanksgiving.

The holiday had changed things and, in a way, was the start to the end of predators in America. Ancient history for some and a daily reminder for others. Predators hadn’t been invited to that feast, no. They were ostracized even back then and now, here they were, still picking at the scraps left behind from the table.

There were others here but most were just double checking their equipment, remaining silent. No wolf wanted to fight their own. They were already so few in number as it was, practically extinct… like so many other species were, these days.

Reese was there, resting his head back with closed eyes as he mentally prepared himself for the… event, to come. His left arm hurt and he hadn’t even used the damn thing yet. If the other wolves, during this raid, found out his weakness… he was sure they would challenge him. They would try to take his home, take his place as this makeshift Alpha and even try and take his dogs from him…

Reese couldn’t allow that as he cracked his golden leaf eyes, just enough to look at the others piled into the back of the van with him.

There was Domino on the other side, the wolf still recovering from his wounds but insisting to come along. He was already breathing heavy and Reese just hoped Dom wouldn’t end up pushing himself to the point he broke.

Reese, of all people, knew what that was like…

“You’re little contact, sure is useful.” Clifford brought up from the front side of the van they’d all piled into. Reese just glanced over at him without a word as Cliff went on. “Can’t believe having a human could be so… useful!” The wolf licked his chops at the prospect and idea.

Domino let out a growl at that.

“Not only did he find out the location we could use to get in, when and where it was taking place… but also where Alpha was.” Cliff said, getting a few looks. “I mean Vicky!” He whined softly, ears splaying out as he lowered his head and shoulders quickly.

Such a slip of the tongue like that… could lose your tongue.

“He’s been keeping me informed.” Barreth glance upwards, looking at Reese who met his gaze. “He’s far more useful than most this lot we’re left with,” Barreth not so subtly said, badmouthing Cliff in all this. He hadn’t forgiven the front doorman for abandoning his post and costing Alphonse his life.

“He is!” Hart, the square face red wolf gladly jumped into the conversation. “He’s far more knowledgeable about pack tactics than I’d ever have thought some human would be capable of!” Once more Domino growled, warning the other wolf about the touchy subject. Hart, matching Cliff, lowered his head with a whine.

Normally a stooge like Hart and a second had grunt like Cliff would never be allowed to ride with the Alpha and his direct members. However, with all their losses… they couldn’t cherry pick as they once did. They were just glad to have the numbers they did have for this.

Reese’s phone buzzed and he glanced down at it, hoping to see Alan’s name on it. Instead he saw Logan’s. It was a single message.

“I’m in.” It read. “The doors unlocked.” Logan added on and left it at that.

“Very useful, yes.” Reese grunted in agreement. He sent another text, to a different human, and just hoped this truly would be the last time he’d have to do something like this.

It was time to bury his old life for good and the last of his connections to it. Reese and been responsible for Diamond’s death and knew Vicky had a grudge against him for it. It was time to settle that debt he owed.

It was the only way to be free.

Be free from the chains society bound them in, the muzzles places on them. Declawed, defanged and pushed off to the side, forced to stand in the shadows looking in. Their own family, their own pack holding them back, warping their very view of reality and turning them into the killers… they always were.

To be free from it all. Society. Family. Pack politics. And their own inner beasts and instincts…

If that could ever be possible.

Tonight would decide everything.