[AU] Fic: A stronger pack
Dec. 16th, 2010 02:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
davidrossi“Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.”
William S. Burroughs
Gino’s Steaks was everything gaudy and Philly; from the neon lights broadcasting it’s superiority over Pat’s (literally across the street and with better fries) to the greasy seats. Ryan was already chowing down on his steak sandwich and favored Dave with a nod as the agent approached and took a seat. The location should have been his first warning, Rossi thought in retrospect as he picked at his own sub. Good food meant bad news. Always had been.
“What’s this about, Ryan? Doubt it’s a social call.”
The folder was pushed unceremoniously towards him; inside was more or less what he expected; the only sort of thing that made old cops call old colleagues for ‘a chat.’ The reports of the dead bodies being found was pulled from google searches and at first blush had no connection to each other. There were seven bodies; both male and female; some criminal, some vagrant, some well to do- one had an air of suspicion hanging over him although an acquittal seemed likely while the others had no criminal records spoken of in the articles.
“…what am I looking at, Ryan?”
“A pack.”
“Packs typically hunt the weak. This man,” Rossi motioned to one article. “Was hardly helpless…and there’s nothing that links these all.”
“Look at the second to last article…” Ryan was still dutifully working on the edges of his cheese steak. He kept dipping the edges of his bread into the cheese that had dripped onto the wax paper used to wrap the sandwich.
A vagrant found off interstate 81, positioned in such a way that symbolized regret for his actions. No sexual assault… Right rib bone removed; not recovered.
“Frank Brietkoph.” Rossi muttered. “So a copy cat…but a bad one.”
“Or a beginning, trying to find his comfort zone.”
There was a moment, however slight and fleeting when Rossi caught Ryan’s insinuation before his mind seemed to snap shut. Rossi, in truth, was never a complicated man. There were things he believed in, people he believed in that no amount of truth could tear down. And Ryan, to his credit, seemed to sense the hostility as soon as it sprang emotion-fueled into Rossi’s head. “…just do me a favor. Read into them- the reports. See what you find.”
“…you’re wrong.”
“I hope so. But prove it.”
“I wonder if I've been changed in the night?’ Alice said, “Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!” – Lewis Carroll
William S. Burroughs
Gino’s Steaks was everything gaudy and Philly; from the neon lights broadcasting it’s superiority over Pat’s (literally across the street and with better fries) to the greasy seats. Ryan was already chowing down on his steak sandwich and favored Dave with a nod as the agent approached and took a seat. The location should have been his first warning, Rossi thought in retrospect as he picked at his own sub. Good food meant bad news. Always had been.
“What’s this about, Ryan? Doubt it’s a social call.”
The folder was pushed unceremoniously towards him; inside was more or less what he expected; the only sort of thing that made old cops call old colleagues for ‘a chat.’ The reports of the dead bodies being found was pulled from google searches and at first blush had no connection to each other. There were seven bodies; both male and female; some criminal, some vagrant, some well to do- one had an air of suspicion hanging over him although an acquittal seemed likely while the others had no criminal records spoken of in the articles.
“…what am I looking at, Ryan?”
“A pack.”
“Packs typically hunt the weak. This man,” Rossi motioned to one article. “Was hardly helpless…and there’s nothing that links these all.”
“Look at the second to last article…” Ryan was still dutifully working on the edges of his cheese steak. He kept dipping the edges of his bread into the cheese that had dripped onto the wax paper used to wrap the sandwich.
A vagrant found off interstate 81, positioned in such a way that symbolized regret for his actions. No sexual assault… Right rib bone removed; not recovered.
“Frank Brietkoph.” Rossi muttered. “So a copy cat…but a bad one.”
“Or a beginning, trying to find his comfort zone.”
There was a moment, however slight and fleeting when Rossi caught Ryan’s insinuation before his mind seemed to snap shut. Rossi, in truth, was never a complicated man. There were things he believed in, people he believed in that no amount of truth could tear down. And Ryan, to his credit, seemed to sense the hostility as soon as it sprang emotion-fueled into Rossi’s head. “…just do me a favor. Read into them- the reports. See what you find.”
“…you’re wrong.”
“I hope so. But prove it.”
“I wonder if I've been changed in the night?’ Alice said, “Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!” – Lewis Carroll
