She saw the press vans chocking the front entrance of the court house and scowled. Getting the text message from the sheriff; Samantha knew they were here reporting on the arrest and capture of San Francisco’s notorious mobster Frederick ‘the shark’ Parker. His failed assault on the police station during the Labor Day picnic ensured the man would be in jail for rest of his natural life.
“Thank goodness,” Samantha driving pass the courthouse; "that Freddie isn’t a were. Stuck in publicly known prison for centuries would effectively reveal our existence to the world.”
Pulling into the parking lot of City Hall and walking to the building proper; Samantha was lost in her own thoughts of dealing with city councilors and planning an election. Not paying attention to her surroundings; Samantha was ambushed by a waiting person.
“Excuse me Mayor Twist; can you give me your take on the apprehension of Frederick Parker?”
“What? Who are you,” Samantha looking confused.
“That’s not important,” the greasy looking man answering; “What is your take on Frederick’s arrest?”
Samantha stood there looking at the shady man wearing shabby clothes; with a runny nose and a lecherous look about him. Samantha was certain this was a tabloid reporter who’s only reason for being here was to get dirt on anything that he could possibly sell.
“No comment,” Samantha pushing past the man; entering the building and ensuring the man could not enter. The Mayor pro-tem was surprised at how quick the man was by jamming his foot into the door; preventing it from closing.
“I’m not one who gives up easily,” the lecherous man exuding a malevolent look upon him; “the sheriff may have blocked most of my brethren from getting a sound bite with his threat of ticketing every press vehicle, but I’m not so easily deterred.”
“Then you shouldn’t have blocked the door with your foot,” Samantha not amused nor intimidated by the man; “because you are about to limp back to whatever rock you crawled out of.”
Before the man could respond; Samantha used all the strength she could muster in closing the door. Hearing the man scream in pain as he quickly pulled his now mangled foot from the door; Samantha smiled as she headed to her office for the start of her work day. Seeing her secretary, Samantha instructed the man to call security and watch out for anyone hanging about city hall. Ensuring they got the sketchy man’s description and informing them he has a noticeable limp; Samantha collects the messages that she has so far received in the morning.
“This is quite the bit,” Samantha looking at the slips of paper.
“These are the ones that I felt are important to take,” the secretary answering; “oddly we have been inundated with calls from many news agencies.”
“Let me guess,” Samantha looking at a message form Tachibana and another from Sheriff Cooper; “all want information regarding Frederick Parker’s arrest.”
“Yes,” the secretary answered; “also a processing clerk from downstairs called. A Chester Brown just filed the paper work for the mayoral race. He also dropped off advertising for his restaurant.”
“Which restaurant,” Samantha not recognizing the name of her political opponent.
“Grrrrrrr,” the secretary answers; “they intend to reopen for lunch service today.”
“Oh great,” Samantha rushing to her office; placing the messages on her desk as she picked up her phone to dial a preprogrammed number.
“And we are still under a were-alert,” Samantha waiting for the other end to pick up.
“Hello,” Samantha hearing a familiar voice on the phone; “this is Mayor Twist, can you please connect me to Sheriff Cooper?”
********
“Wake up!”
Frederick stirs as he hears the bars of his cell being rattled by a baton. Slowly sitting up on the steel bunk that doubles as bench; Frederick looks up bleary eyed as he watches a deputy shove a food tray past the cell bars.
“You got court in few hours,” the deputy snapping; “hope you have a good lawyer meeting you there for your extradition hearing.”
Frederick just glares as he watches the deputy walk off; getting up to grabbed the tray of food and sitting back down, Frederick laments on his situation. Once a powerful and feared man; a man that had influence with politicians, lawyers and other individuals of questionable repute. Now he sits in a cell eating cold scrambled eggs and toast. All the lawyers he has tried to contact refuse to represent him. All the politicians that owe him favors, or those he is blackmailing have distance themselves from him. Frederick was certain that his peers in the Sn Francisco criminal world have begun to take over his empire.
“What empire I have left that is,” Frederick shuddering at the taste of bad coffee in the Styrofoam cup.
Last Saturday evening, four of Frederick Parker’s men took it upon themselves to commit a break and enter job in Moon Lake. Despite being told to keep their noses clean, the men unknowingly broke into the Knight Estate. With Benton’s daughter and her friends present, as well as three were-tiger cubs; Benton was furious that the mobster could so callously try and steal from him. Setting off a chain of events; Benton enacted his Code Omega on Frederick; destroying the man by attacking his finances and holdings.
“If only my son didn’t steal that dam car and shooting its owner,” Frederick talking to himself; “I wouldn’t be in this situation. Now he is in the custody of the FBI and I’m about to be taken back to California. I’d rather be put in solitary in a super max,” Frederick sighing; “better than being placed in a cell in San Quentin.”
“I’d take San Quentin over Pelican Bay any day,” one of Frederick’s few surviving men speaking from there cell; “at least there you get rec time more than an hour once a week.”
“Yet in San Quentin,” another man speaking up; “you run the risk of getting shived by a gang member.”
“That’s not exclusive to that prison,” another prisoner speaking; “I did five years in Sing Sing, got jumped three times and stabbed twice there.”
“All of you shut up,” Frederick snapping; “you useless fucks couldn’t talk your way out a parking ticket.”
“Watch your mouth,” the first man speaking up; “lest you want us to flip on you and sink you even deeper.”
“There is a word for that in prison,” Frederick glaring; “it’s called snitch.”
“Daniel Parker’s new title,” another prison chuckling; “pray your son doesn’t drop the soap in the shower, Shark.”
Frederick swears as the entire cell block erupts in laughter; making him throw the remainder of his breakfast at his cell bars in frustration.