Chapter 5; Oxynoxylate
New Lazarus City Police Department
Detective Vey, Helen, and Kevin sat across the white-walled interrogation room, papers and coffee cups scattered before them. Outside, Alice and Altair leaned against the observation window, watching silently. Altair's gaze lingered on Alice a moment too long.
"I would appreciate it if you stopped staring," Alice said, not meeting his eyes.
Altair smirked. "Spoilsport."
She rolled her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "When do you get off work?" he asked, curiosity threading through his voice.
"I'm not interested in your shenanigans," she replied, still focused on the scene inside.
"Fair enough," Altair said, shrugging. "Just seemed like a good way to break the tension."
They chuckled softly, the sound carrying a rare warmth between them. Altair's eyes wandered back to the room, then to Alice.
"What do you think they're talking about?" he asked.
"Possibly how they're tangled up with Rico Morreti," she said quietly, her tone cautious.
"Did you say Rico Morreti?" Altair leaned in slightly, concern creeping into his posture.
Alice's face hardened. "Do you know him?"
Memories of the night he and Kevin escaped the hotel replayed in Altair's mind, sharp and raw. "No… but if they're connected with him, I can tell it's serious trouble."
Alice's eyes narrowed with concern. "Rico's not just dangerous; he's calculated. Anyone in his path—especially someone he sees as a threat—doesn't get out unscathed."
Altair's gaze drifted to Helen and Kevin inside. "So what brings you to New Lazarus?" he asked, curiosity softening the edge in his voice.
"Justice," Alice replied firmly. "This city… it's rotten. People like him thrive here. I came to bring justice where no one else dares."
Altair raised an eyebrow. "Justice? That's… a little vague, don't you think?" He glanced at Helen and Kevin, both tense and uncertain.
Alice met his gaze, unwavering. "Justice isn't vague when it comes to the people I care about. It's about protecting the innocent, exposing corruption… and keeping people alive who would otherwise be lost."
Altair nodded slowly, letting her words sink in. "I envy you," he admitted quietly. "I always wanted revenge. Obsession, hatred, all-consuming… but I've realized revenge can't exist without collateral. There's always someone you're supposed to protect, and I've been failing at that for too long."
Alice finally looked at him fully, curiosity mixed with a hint of empathy. "And now?" she asked.
"I…" Altair ran a finger along the dusty railing of the observation window. His voice was quiet, almost trembling. "I swore to protect someone and ran. Now I have someone else—or something else—to protect. My quest for revenge… it could destroy them. But if I let go of my hatred, was it all for nothing?"
Alice stayed silent for a long moment, letting him speak. Her presence was steady, a grounding force in the storm of his thoughts.
"Sorry for dumping all that on you," Altair said finally, his face brightening with a weak smile. "Heard ladies love broken guys, right?"
Alice shook her head, a small smile forming despite herself. "There will come a time, Altair. A choice between revenge and family. Don't waste it chasing one at the expense of the other."
Altair stared into the room, silent, the weight of her words pressing against him. The moment stretched, a fragile pause before reality intruded. His phone rang, the familiar "Hey Apple" tone breaking the tension. Vittorio's name appeared with a nauseated emoji. Altair's gaze flicked from the phone to Kevin, then back to Alice.
He sighed, accepting the call. "Yes."
"I have a job for you. Hope you haven't forgotten," Vittorio said from the other side of the line.
"I'm on my way," Altair replied, his voice steady, though the weight of Alice's words lingered.
He walked out of the building, shoulders squared, the memory of their conversation echoing with every step.
Vittorio Constantine Mansion
Altair stepped through a narrow gate barely wide enough for a single person, emerging into a spacious garden that stretched before him. Manicured hedges and geometrically arranged flowerbeds framed the path, while armed guards stood motionless at precise intervals. Under a wooden shed at the far end, Vittorio sat, cool and composed, waving lazily in Altair's direction. Two others flanked him, seated but alert.
"Do your attendees use a map or something? I swear I almost got lost finding this place," Altair remarked, adjusting his jacket.
"Well, you're family now. You'll get used to it," Vittorio replied with a faint smirk.
"Since you've arrived, there's no need to drag this out. Family isn't blood—it's usefulness, loyalty, shared ambition. Let me introduce you to my son, Leonard Constantine."
Altair's gaze landed on Leonard. Amber eyes sharp and calculating, they spoke volumes without effort. Dressed in a floral-patterned shirt and crisp white shorts, Leonard stood and extended a hand.
"You've got a strong handshake," Altair noted.
"I've been working out," Leonard said casually, running a hand through his wavy black hair.
Altair rolled his eyes but didn't retract his grip.
"And that's Rose," Vittorio said.
Rose was the exact opposite of Leonard. Her still, quiet presence was unsettling; the black vest and trousers she wore only accentuated it.
"As a unit in the Constantine Family," Vittorio continued, "you protect each other. Loyalty isn't suggested—it's mandatory."
As Vittorio spoke, Altair's mind flickered back to the night his parents and Selene were killed. The memory pressed down on him like a weight, and his fingers tapped uncontrollably against the table.
"I can't do this," Altair blurted, his voice sharp.
"Excuse me?" Vittorio's calm demeanor didn't waver.
"Not this again," Altair shot back, anger rising. "I see your plan—throw a team at me, and when they die, it's more blood on my hands. Mom… Dad… Selene… No. Fuck you, Vittorio."
He slammed his fist against the table and stormed out of the garden, the echo of his movement bouncing off the walls. Rose rose to intercept him, but Vittorio raised a hand, signaling her to stand down, his eyes fixed on Altair as he disappeared from view.
New Lazarus City Police Department
Detective Vey sat on the edge of his desk, one hand pressed to his forehead as if bracing for impact. Alice stood before him, practically glowing with determination, while Maggie leaned against the doorframe with the confidence of someone who had already decided the outcome of the argument.
"You two are something else," Vey muttered.
"We want to help Helen and Kevin," Alice said. "And we've noticed the department is… understaffed in the field."
"We're the ones who dragged this case into the light," Maggie added. "Let us help you close it."
Vey let out a long, defeated sigh. Two weeks of sleep deprivation and paperwork clearly didn't help his resistance.
"For the past two weeks, the city's been dealing with a string of heroin overdoses," he said. "A new strain. More potent. It doesn't just knock people out; it leaves them catatonic."
"And you think Rico Moretti is behind it?" Maggie asked.
"Possibly. Maybe his people. We got a distress call a few minutes ago. Frat party over on Westbrook. Two dead before the ambulance even arrived. Two more in intensive care." He handed Alice a brown envelope, thick with documents and photos.
"This is a one‑time thing," Vey warned. "The moment senior officers are back, you're both on meter‑maid duty."
Alice and Maggie exchanged a glance that said they had no intention of embracing that future.
Vey continued, "We've got an insider who claims Rico's crew is receiving fresh chemical supplies tonight. Precursors they use for the mix. Shipment arrives later this evening. We're going for inspection only. No heroics."
His stare told them he knew that warning would probably be ignored.
Later That Night
New Lazarus Shipping Company
A black van rolled into a secluded lot, its headlights cutting through the fog that clung to stacks of shipping containers. The beam of the nearby lighthouse swept across the area in lazy circles, momentarily illuminating the scene. The van's sliding door creaked open, and Leonard and Rose stepped out. Leonard immediately clutched a black briefcase. Almost instantly, armed men surrounded them, forming a tight perimeter.
From the shadows behind a stack of crates, Maggie, Alice, and Detective Vey observed the scene. Vey raised a pair of binoculars, scanning the activity with practiced precision.
"What could be inside that briefcase?" Maggie whispered, her eyes narrowing.
"Could be the product—the new batch of drugs," Alice murmured, her jaw tight with worry.
The gang's apparent leader strode forward, a rifle slung casually over his shoulder.
"Where is Rico?" Leonard asked, his tone sharp.
"The boss didn't see it as necessary to come," the man replied, his eyes cold.
"That's against what we agreed," Leonard said, his hand tightening around the briefcase handle.
"Open it," the leader barked.
"No. Not until we see Rico," Leonard replied firmly.
The man raised his rifle, pointing directly at Leonard.
"I wasn't asking," he growled.
Reluctantly, Leonard flipped the latches. Inside, fourteen vials gleamed under the dim lights, perfectly arranged.
"Oxynoxylate," the man said, his voice clipped.
"Tie them up," he ordered, collecting the briefcase.
"What?" Leonard snapped.
"Orders from the boss. No hard feelings," the man said, turning away.
"What is he doing here?" Alice murmured.
From the shadows, a figure emerged, moving with lethal precision. Altair, dual handguns in hand, stepped into the pale lighthouse light. The beam cut across his face briefly, highlighting the cold steel in his eyes. A shiver ran down Alice's spine. That feeling—death—was unmistakable.
Altair's boots hit the concrete softly but deliberately as he advanced toward the armed men. The group immediately raised their weapons, aiming at him.
"I'm only going to ask once," Altair said, his voice low but commanding. "Where are Kevin and Helen?"