Jack decided - even though Krysta was definitely beautiful, he could not bring himself to cheat on Vicki. As he got up, he noted Krysta had brought a pair of boxer shorts at least so he didn't have to go out to the car streaking. "Again...thanks a million. You saved a lot of lives in that hell house when you directed the Werewolf like that." As Jack put on the shorts and headed out, he looked out the door to see Vicki waiting for him in the car. She gestured for him to come out, and he strode out in just these new boxers, entering the passenger side door.
"We have got to get you a car before long. I brought the clothes and phone from yesterday." Vicki commented, and sighed, "How'd it go? And how worried should I be that you came out of her place wearing nothing but a pair of boxers?" She was mostly teasing about that, he could tell.
"Not worried at all, babe." Jack leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, "You know me. I'd never cheat. You've been by my side forever, and I'm nothing if not grateful." Jack started to get dressed again in his clothes, looking around and thinking about what to do from here. Once Jack was fully dressed, he buckled in and said, "You up for some breakfast before starting the day's work? I'm famished."
"You have no idea, lover boy." And with that, Jack and Vicki drove off toward Ma Ruby's place. Jack contemplated while they drove what he learned from this outing - he'd learned that for one there were legit psychics and other mystical types out there, so that was something to be aware of going forward. And he learned there were two different "kinds" of werewolves. People who were "foreign" to the wolf's blood and people who were born into it. But why did Krysta allege he was born into it? He'd only been turned due to the power of that damned book.
Vicki asked him, "You seem...contemplative today, did she say anything to you about the whole "I turn into a giant wolf-man three times a month" thing?"
"Yeah," Jack started, "I think I need to do a pretty thorough look into my family. Not my stepfamily. My actual family. Krysta said the wolf was not foreign to me, even though I was turned by a book's curse. The only thing I could gather from that is that she might be saying lycanthropy runs in the family."
"And I have got to get my hands on that book..." Vicki replied, thinking about what kind of book could straight up turn someone into a werewolf. "I've heard stories about numerous really nasty books over the years, mostly fictional though. Necronomicon, the Book of the Dead, Ildach...never thought I'd ever have the opportunity to look into the real thing."
"Just be careful. I don't want my girlfriend wolfing out too." Jack said with a light chuckle. He did however worry it might have some sort of magnetic effect.
By the time the two of them got to the diner, Jack noted with some trepidation there were police cars parked there. And stepping out of the car and sniffing the air, he could tell - Detective Battle was here. The necromancer was officially in attendance. He looked at Vicki and said, "Werewolf senses have it - Detective Battle's here."
"Should I get some mace? Or find a holy item to use against any risen corpses?" Vicki did not even know if holy items would help against the walking dead, but figured it'd be better than going in empty handed. At least she could stab with a sufficiently sharp cross.
Jack smelled the air again and said, "No hint of the undead. Seems to me he's...mm." Jack halted and noted as he did that there were different police tinged scents here today. Seemed that the Detective wasn't alone today. "Let's go, but be careful. We can't let him know that we know what he's on about."
Vicki nodded, and both of the young partners walked inside, looking around and seeing it seemed pretty tense already. Jack looked at Jaime Petit, who seemed to be on knife's edge with what was going on. Jack edged closer to him and asked, "What's...going on here? Seems everyone's either really quiet or really nervous."
Jaime responded as quietly as he could, "Police are arguing off and on. I'll give you your seats, no worries."
Jack looked around and noted there was a table set up by one of the windows, with the food on the plates only half eaten. There was Detective Battle, glowering at the figure across the table. Jack looked and saw his "buddy" Detective Detmer sitting, mortified and ashamed looking, next to a much older cop. Probably in his late sixties or early seventies, the guy seemed fiery - no weakness or relaxation there, as ready to strike as a coiled viper. He was slim and taut and ready to move at a moment's notice. His hairline was balding but nicely combed, eyes dark blue. Jack could see a scar on his jawline, and he could tell by the way the old guy carried himself there was a lot of experience there.
Voluntarily taking a seat near enough to overhear, Jack ignored the stares from Jaime Petit as if he was crazy. Taking his seat and getting some water from Mr. Petit shortly and whispering some orders to him, Jack sipped at it as Vicki took a seat opposite him. Both ready to listen to what was going on.
Detective Battle spoke next, stating, "This completely violates the agreement I had with this department and everything related to it, down to the spirit of the agreement! I was supposed to have a stable job, no leering eyes on me, and no continuous critiques from the oh so PC mob eager to do a cop's job for him!"
The older cop responded, "Oh grow a pair, you're being reprimanded, it's not the end of the world. You wagged your fucking mouth to a pair of savvy high schoolers, and you're surprised your actions had consequences?"
"I have the freedom of speech!!" Battle basically shouted and slammed his fist into the table.
"You got Freedom of Speech, you're right." The older cop said and then spitefully chuckled, "You don't got Freedom-From-Consequences Speech. You're a cop, not a knight or a king or some fucking aristocratic, blueblood douchebag. Now I know you think you're one of those things, you wannabe Confederate types are about as subtle as a brick to the noggin, but---"
"Mr. Carpenter? Can I uhh, eat?" Detmer looked at his plate, which had even more on it than the other two's plates.
"Do whatever the fuck you want." The old cop really had some spine, Jack had to admit. He sipped some more at his drink and continued listening in; "...At least try and have some good fucking manners, Battle. This isn't motherfucking facebook. You get paid to help the public feel safe and secure in a really fucking scary world."
Battle mumbled something, and Jack admitted he was really impressed by this guy putting the Necromancer himself in his place like that. Battle grumbled, "You people are supposed to respect my beliefs and give me an easy time of this! That was the agreement!"
"We're supposed to give you a job and assignments, and not fire you, you lazy toad." Carpenter responded, "You may have the department by the fucking balls, but you won't ever have me. You got that, you Southern Louse? You comprehend my lingo, you racist little hick?"
Battle slammed his hands into the table, and shouted loud enough such that everyone in the entire diner could hear him, "I don't have to take this from some old timer! I'm going to go do my job, and do it the way I know is most effective. I'd urge you to respect my freedoms, Carpenter you old hack, before I get something that'll have you by the fucking balls." He stomped out of the diner and Jack could hear him starting up his car and driving off at quite illicit speeds.
Detmer commented, "...Can't fuckin' stand racists...now lemme eat."
Jack was honestly incredibly surprised by that whole conversation for lack of a better term---well okay the better term might well be shouting match. Maybe the old guy was...could he be? Jack reclined in his seat as he was given his menu. Vicki looked a little shocked by the discord that was going on. She leaned over to him and whispered, "Sounds like Detective Battle has some kind of blackmail or something on the PD. That sounds like its a pretty big thing."
As Jack and Vicki made their orders and waited for the food to get there, the old cop got up and walked back over to the two of them. He looked Jack over and seemed somewhat surprised. He cupped his chin, "Pretty strong coincidence you showed up here like that, friend. Krysta told me all about you and your unique gifts."
"Oh so you're..." Jack started. "The police lieutenant she mentioned. Someone who might be able to help us out."
Vicki asked, "It sounds like something illicit's going on with Battle. Is he up to something in regards to his employment with LVPD?"
"You have no idea, lady," Carpenter responded, "First of all, my name's Harry Carpenter, and best get all the Dirty Harry references outta your system fast - heard em all. And second, yes, Battle has the department and the chief by the fucking balls. I don't even know where he got the material, but he got his job and a substantially higher pay outta it. Not a fucking one of us can lift a finger against him."
Jack responded, "And I guess that's where I come in. I've been dealing with Battle's less than legal dealings for days now. You know those uhh "PCP Gang attacks"?"
"Bullshit - bull fucking shit those weren't gangs on PCP, but do go on." Carpenter said, seeming definitely interested now.
Vicki spoke up and said, "Going by what we've gathered, we can say that Detective Battle is very much behind these attacks. They're uhh, less than living, if you can believe that---"
"Little lady," Lieutenant Carpenter responded, "I've been on Las Vegas PD for 45 years. There ain't much that I wouldn't believe. Zombies? Zombies right?" He leaned in as he mentioned that, whispering, "Not the most fucked up thing I ever saw. Saw a man drained entirely of blood and split in half. Saw someone twist their body around and turn their hands into liquid to get outta handcuffs. And I worked with Ms. Krysta to solve a murder."
Jack was outright astonished, wondering how much else was really going on in the world around him. Just the hints dropped by Harry were enough to make him feel distinctly like even if he defeated Battle, that probably wouldn't be the end of things. "Krysta said you could help us deal with Battle."
The lieutenant nodded, "I have something for you to help deal with any silver bullets Battle might have. And some info - much as he likes to brag, Detective Battle is a fucking shit shot. He's unable to hit the broad side of a barn. He gotta always shoot the body. Can't shoot a head for the life of him. So I got something for you based on that..." He looked up at Jaime Petit coming over with some food, "Come out to my car after you get your brunch in, and we can keep going."
Jack looked over at Vicki and nodded before looking back at the lieutenant, "Thanks, sir. I'm really glad we have friends in the PD."
"You just keep your list of vics small 'n' constrained to douchebags and it'll stay that way, big guy." Harry responded and then headed out, "Thanks for the meal, but I'm not feeling particularly hungry..." Glancing back over at Detmer he chuckled, "You can have all the rest of mine, fatso."
Jack could almost hear Detmer salivating, and he leaned back in his seat as the orders got there. Jack was famished, but he was also looking forward to meeting up after with the cop. As he and Vicki ate, Jack looked at her and said, "Thanks for standing by me throughout all of this. The whole ordeal with Battle's gonna be over soon."
"I'm with you through it all, and beyond the Battle issue, Jack. You need some research done don't hesitate to ask."
-------------------
When the meal was done, Jack and Vicki promptly went outside to join Lieutenant Carpenter, who was at his police car looking over something. It looked like someone - probably a corpse, Jack guessed by the rotten smell in the air - left a note on the hood of Harry's police car. The older cop read it, "You're a dead man, Harry Carpenter." He then bitterly chuckled, "Oh, make it a little more overt, won't you, Battle, you hillbilly trash?"
He then turned and looked at the two, and said, "If I had to guess, if this goes on, Battle's gonna sic his Walking Dead rejects on me next. So, since we got the info on who he really is, what he really is, and his weaknesses...what do you kids say we deal with him ahead of time?"
Jack was very much interested, and considering how helpful Harry had been, if this could save his life he was all in for it, "Yeah, that sounds great! How're we gonna get to him though? We need to catch him in the act. Whatever he's up to, he's gotta be getting these bodies from somewhere---"
"And I think I got your info as to where," Lieutenant Carpenter responded, "I've been paying attention to the unusual routes and all the shit Battle got up to since he signed on. And I noticed he's been really honing in on a certain plot of land, outskirts. If I had to guess, he's pickin' up new dead squadmates from there. Probably some meet up spot. He's usually over there at 3:33 PM, round about."
Jack looked at his phone and saw it was 2:20, giving him ample time. "Well, this gives us plenty of time to catch Battle in the act. I'll head over there posthaste."
"Now you wait a second, wolfboy." Jack halted just as he was about to break into a sprint. Carpenter took something out from his car, and looked it over with a smirk, "Nobody but nobody blackmails my fucking precinct, and if Battle thinks having a few silver bullets on hand is gonna save his ass, let's sabotage that plan."
Vicki looked over the somewhat heavy looking vest, "...Ah, I get it! Silver's only probably lethal to Jack if it can hit him, and this stuff looks like pretty heavy duty bullet proof jacketing. And it probably won't show much through Jack's shirt."
Jack nodded as he took his shirt off and put the new vest on and smiled at the older cop, "Thank you for helping us out this much, Lieutenant. Really means a lot to me..." As he put on his shirt he noted what was probably pretty heavy for a regular guy didn't feel so bad for him now. Even as a human guy.
Carpenter started moving to get into his car and said, "Just make sure you absolutely kick the everloving shit out of Detective Battle for me, okay? Make that hillbilly shit his fucking pants." Jack nodded a few times and watched the older policeman drive off shortly. Jack then looked over at Vicki, and nodded;
"I'll be careful, you don't need to worry." He smiled, and started walking off.
And Vicki for her part started to wonder when life turned from the usual into quite so much unusual. She doubted, for her part, that the end of Detective Battle would be the end of this. As the detective said, there was a lot that was secretly going on in Las Vegas, going on far longer than this zombie scheme. And Vicki was prepared to face it all alongside her boyfriend. She wasn't going to let anything scare her off or make her quit. She might not have claws or fangs, but info, intelligence and good research could help those claws and fangs find their home.
-----------------
Meanwhile, Krysta walked about her emporium, thinking about the recent visit of Jack Romulus, and all the things her crystal ball had shown her over the years. She considered how she just wished she could've said that this was only the beginning. That Detective Battle as evil as he was hardly scratched the surface of what lurked in Las Vegas and beyond. The overgrown ambitions of this one racist serving the dark, long-lived ambitions of many, many others conspiring in the shadows to make their move.
Krysta looked over images in her crystal ball...
She saw the interior of the malevolent Jared Macklert's office, and saw the three headed dragon. Such was the malevolence of the old man, she figured. She saw the spiritual map of the city of Las Vegas, and the places where murders had taken place courtesy of Battle's undead were marked in the spiritual map. Marked in blood red stains.
Krysta murmured, "His hate and his violence would harm the spirit world here, damage and distort it...could this be what he desires? What could happen---" She looked into the positioning of the murders and the places they'd taken. "...To think he would even contemplate this spell. Detective Battle is truly insane."