[CoH] "Independence Port"

[cmdr_zoom]

Here's a draft of the next chapter of "Faces of the City", for review and comment. I think it might need something (more of the zone's history, maybe? but how do I work it in?); what do you think?


[b]7. INDEPENDENCE PORT[/b]

The morning fog is lifting as he emerges from the tunnel, the sun rising at his back. The span of Valor Bridge can be seen dimly through the gray haze; somewhere out there, Power Island lurks in the middle of the harbor, protected by its own curtain of light. The chill air tastes of salt. A horn's single note carries mournfully over the water, backed by the faint clank of metal on metal and the shrill cries of wheeling gulls.

He turns left and walks along the road a bit, then makes a right into a parking lot between two warehouses covered in peeling paint and rust. It's still cool and foggy here, in the shadow of the War Wall. No one else seems to be around; the lot is deserted save for an old pickup truck, an equally decrepit forklift, and some wooden shipping pallets. He crosses his arms over his chest and waits.

Presently the mist clears enough to reveal another figure, as tall and broad-shouldered as the Row's manifestation. He's dressed in the flannel shirt, bib overalls and steel-toed boots of a longshoreman, with a filthy rag tucked into a back pocket and a ring of keys jingling at his waist. His unshaven face is as gruff and homely as a bulldog's, but it splits open in a warm grin as he steps forward. The two embrace as brothers, clapping each other on the back.

"King."

"How ya doin', Indy?"

The longshoreman shrugs affably. "Same as always. Tide goes out, tide comes in. I keep busy. How 'bout you?"

The Row shrugs back. "Same as always."

"That bad, huh?" Indy tries to make it sound like a joke, but it's not, not really.

"Yeah." The Row chuckles. "It's okay."

Indy nods with understanding and sympathy. "So... what brings ya down to the docks?"

In the shadow of his fedora, King's eyes narrow. "Last night, I caught some Marcone torpedoes havin' a meet in the garment works."

"Marcones?" The longshoreman scowls. "The hell are they doin' 'round here? They're strictly Rogue Isles."

"Yeah, but that's not all. Guess who they was meetin'? Nicky Vitelli."

"Vitelli?" Indy blinks. "I ain't heard nothin' about them since..."

"Since Tommy 'the Turbo' got blown to bits back in '75, yeah. And his kid's a real piece a' work too. Kept mouthin' off to me, talking trash. I had to hang him off the roof of the Carradine Building by his ankles to get anything useful out of him."

"Heh. Same old King."

The Row smiles faintly, then gets serious again. "So here's how I figure it. The Marcones want to carve themselves a new slice here in Paragon. And they're lookin' for little fish like the Vitellis, guys who're tired of being pushed around by the Frosts, to give them a foot in the door."

"Hrmm. I got enough problems with the Family as it is." Indy begins to pace back and forth on the cracked asphalt. "They're set to go to war with those Chinese gangsters already. Not to mention not one but [i]two[/i] private armies making trouble, and that damn octopus." He stops and turns to King with a frown. "If the Marcones make a play, that could be the lit match that sets it all off. We could be lookin' at a mob war right in our backyard."

The Row nods. "That's why I came to you. I can't stop this alone."

"You know I'm with ya, King. Always." Indy offers his hand, which the Row shakes firmly, not letting go.

"Yeah, I do. Thanks. And if there's ever anything I can do for you..."

"Actually..." That grin is back, this time with a bit of mischief to it. "A little bird told me there's somethin' goin' on in Liberty Quay this morning that could use my personal attention. Might be right up your alley too."

"No kiddin'?" He doesn't have to think about it long. "Okay, I'm in."

One moment, the two of them are standing in a parking lot; the next, they're inside another warehouse, appearing in the midst of some very surprised and angry mobsters and the Sky Raiders they were about to close a major arms deal with. The Family underboss demands an explanation, over the clicks and scrapes of weapons being readied.

"Where the hell did you come from? Who ARE you?"

As they move to stand back to back, the Row grins under his scarf. "You wouldn't believe us if we told ya." Then, over his shoulder: "Ready?"

Indy's holding a crowbar now, one as long as his arm, and doesn't bother to hide his smile. "Ready."

The next few minutes are very exciting. But when the Tsoo show up to take the weapons and money for themselves... that's when things really get fun.