Ghost of a Chance Ch. 11

"You're that surprised?"

"Not really," grumbled Ghost, "I never trusted you from the start."

Detective Robert Trent bent down, the silencer equipped gun pointing at his 'partner in crime fighting', and grabbed the case of money lying beside the invisible hero.

Ghost was ready to make a move towards his belt to grab a weapon he could use, but Trent raised his gun slightly, anticipating him.

"Your body may be armored, but I'll bet your head isn't."

Ghost relaxed, still fuming inside and curiously looking at the piece of equipment strapped to the detective's head.

"Oh, yes," he continued, guessing his next question, "These worked out just the way I hoped," Trent tapped the side of his head with his gun barrel, then returned it to his target. He wore a set of fancy looking goggles; the lenses tinted green, "Night vision goggles, able to amplify tiny light sources including infrared light; heat waves coming off your body. But the rings you guys wear bend all light waves around you, don't they?"

Though hidden behind his mask, Trent could 'see' Ghost's eyebrows rise.

"Yeah, I know all about the rings."

"I figured."

Trent tilted his head in surprise, though he really wasn't that shocked, "You found the bug, didn't you. I was wondering why I couldn't pick you two up anymore."

"It's taking a coffee break," Ghost sneered.

"It doesn't matter; I already found out what I needed to know. The rings bend light waves around you, making you invisible to the naked eye, but you don't know how they work. Using night vision goggles would be a waste of time in this situation... normally. So, I just applied a little reverse common sense: instead of looking at places lit up by amplified light, I'm looking at the places... that aren't."

Of course, thought Ghost; clever son of a bitch.

"Everything around me is crystal clear, almost like daylight... except for the place where you're lying, which is pitch black. You're just a silhouette in my line of sight; a dark 'hole' in the light. I knew there had to be a way around your little 'trick', other than steam or sprinklers."

Just then, the door to the roof access banged open and Jacko, recovered from his 'shock nap', stepped out from behind the stairwell shack, gun drawn.

"Where are they?" he asked, his head still aching from the pounding he received, "Can you see them?"

"I've got one of them right here," Trent answered. Jacko positioned himself next to the detective, pointing his gun at the same area of the roof.

"By the way, where is your partner?"

Ghost just stared daggers into Trent and responded, "You set us up;" he then nodded at Jacko, "you were in on it with this fucker the whole damn time, weren't you!"

Trent flashed a sarcastic smirk at him, "What finally clued you in?"

"A lot of little things, all tied together. Your 'removing evidence from a crime scene' comment when you questioned us the first time we met, for starters; I had time to think about that one. How could you have known evidence was missing... unless you excepted it to still be there when you arrived on the scene," he nodded at the case in his hand, "The money; you were going to pick it up after the bust was made, but it wasn't there at the jewel deal in the warehouse. After you identified me from the blood sample you had, you figured out that it was us who took it."

"Very good," Trent scoffed, "but how did you link this all to me?"

"Easy," Ghost continued, seeing something out of the corner of his eye dart behind an air conditioning unit on the roof and keeping the two thugs occupied and distracted from it, "One of the goons in the factory," he gazed at Jacko, "was one of yours; the meathead guarding the door at that building you brought my partner to when you kidnapped her."

"Chaz," Jacko uttered in disgust, "I knew I should have left him out of this, that fucking moron."

"And when you showed up, Jacko... that's when I realized that you couldn't have gotten out of jail that quick to do your business... unless you weren't arrested in the first place." Ghost glanced back at Trent, who just nodded, but retorted.

"But anyone at the precinct could've let him go or hide him. Even if he was busted, someone else could've sprung him out; there are a lot of them working for guys like him. How did you know it was me?"

"That." Ghost pointed to the money case; Trent looking at it, confused.

"That case gave you away the second I saw it, the last one we gave you from the factory bust. Ghoul dodged a bullet thanks to that case; it hit the corner, chipping away a piece," Trent flipped it around and saw the gouge dug into one corner, "How could Jacko have gotten his hands on it... unless he got it from you? And he told you about his tricks to 'see' us."

"Nicely done," Trent smirked, but still annoyed at himself for not seeing that little detail on the case; he considered himself more cautious than that, "Anything else?"

"Why?"

Trent gave Ghost an incredulous look and answered, "Are you kidding? Talking you into helping me was the easy part; playing to your sense of justice..."

But Ghost cut him off, "I already figured that part out. Why are you doing all this, helping criminals like him?" he waved a hand at Jacko.

"For this; what else?" Trent hefted the case.

Ghost scowled and felt sick to his stomach, "All the pretense of stopping the drug trafficking, all the raids and stakeouts, all of the ones you had killed... you did all that... for money?"

"A lot of money... well, my part of the deal was for money," Trent gestured at Jacko, "his part was for business expansion." He was about to explain, but Ghost beat him to it.

"You had us help you take out the competition," he growled, "With all the other major players out of the game, Jacko was free to pick up the pieces. 'Make a better offer to the other dealers', with him the only boss in charge, right?"

"And become the only 'game in town'," the scumbag finished.

Trent motioned to Jacko, "He gets to be the big boss and clean up," then nodded to himself, lifting the money case, "and in return for helping him, I get a tidy nest egg. This tops it out at five million, as we agreed."

"What happened to 'replacing it with something better', 'benefiting others'? Ghost groused at him.

"It is being replaced with something bigger and better: a bigger and better organization, managed under one roof instead of dozens," Trent answered, "And as for the 'benefits', well..." he just shrugged and motioned to the case again.

"And you've got the balls to call yourself a cop?"

Trent just huffed, "I'll never see this kind of money as long as I live, at least not working behind a badge at a thankless job. As of tomorrow, I'm no longer a cop; I'm retiring and taking my little 'nest egg' with me. Jacko's free to do what he wants, now; it's not my problem anymore. In fact," he quickly brought up his gun and fired, putting a bullet through Jacko's head. His body shook for a second, then collapsed to the roof with his blood splattering the tar patches, "he's not anybody's problem anymore."

Ghost could only stare horrified at what just happened and gawking at Jacko's corpse, as Trent kneeled down, setting the case to the side.

"Satisfied now?" He raised an eyebrow at Ghost, "What? I just did you a favor, this time."

"By committing murder?" Ghost shouted.

"Oh, please," Trent scoffed, "He was a maggot; a drug pushing fuck head, dealing his shit and pushing it on people... on children! He didn't care who he was hurting with his drugs; all he cared about was himself and the power he could obtain. Your hypocrisy is showing," he leaned in closer and sneered, "now you tell me: who have I hurt?"

"You didn't hurt him; you killed him!" Ghost retorted, but still feeling the sting of his words being used against him.

"Do you honestly believe anybody will miss him? He'll never hurt anyone... never hurt another kid with his drugs ever again. His whole operation is in the shitter now and his goons have got nowhere to go. Like I said before: everybody wins... well, at least for now; you know there'll be another one to take his place, sooner or later."

"You're just as bad as he was, you fucking prick!" he spat at him.

Trent just held out his hand, the gun in the other still pointed at Ghost's head, "The ring, please."

Ghost didn't move.

"You know I could just kill you and take the ring, anyway; hand it over," he placed the barrel against Ghost's head, "now."

Hating Trent, the assholes who were working with him, and the rest of the Universe, Ghost slowly pulled his glove off and removed the ring. Trent saw his form materialize in his night vision and removed his goggles, tossing them aside.

"Don't need those anymore," he remarked, as Ghost placed the ring in his palm. He looked it over, carefully going over its curves and asked, "How does it work?"

"You're the detective; you figure it out."

Ghost cried out in pain as Trent pressed the gun tip against his calf, one of the few spots not covered by body armor, and fired a bullet into it. He groaned as Trent placed the gun near his fingers.

"The next one goes in your hand, then under your arm, and finally... your nose," he ground the barrel into Tom's knuckles, "Answer me!"

Ghost gulped down air and replied, hating himself for breaking his promise not to allow the rings to fall into the wrong hands, "You... you have to recite the... inscription, then... put it on your finger." He wanted to cry, almost wishing Trent had killed him. He wasn't worried for himself, but rather for Ghoul who he knew would be worked on next if Trent got a hold of her. Not to mention all of those who would suffer because of some devious plan Trent had for the ring.

Trent peered inside the ring and repeated what was written, "Per is... vox, lux... lucis sinus," and slipped the ring on. His face lit up in surprise when everything around came into clear focus, a wan aura of light around every object within his sight, disappearing from Ghost's view. "Wow... amazing," then he picked up the case of money and gasped when it faded to a white outline. He glanced at his gun and saw it too was just a simple outline. "Incredible! You make things vanish by just touching them. What else can you do with it?"

"Go fuck yourself," Ghost hissed, wincing at the pain that shot through his leg and breathing hard through his clenched teeth. He wasn't going to tell him anything more and that was that.

For a second, Trent was going to put another bullet into another unprotected part of him, but changed his mind, "Suit yourself; I'll figure it out, eventually. I'm going to have a lot of fun with this." With that, he placed the gun against Ghost's head again and asked, "Anything more you want to say before you go? Nothing personal, but... 'No witnesses' and all that, you know."

"Just... one last question, Trent," Ghost coughed out... and chuckled, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Trent's face twisted in confusion, "What?"

Stars immediately flashed in his eyes and pain pierced his skull when a baton smashed across his head, sending him tumbling to the side and loosing his grip on the money case.

"ME!"

Groaning with waves of pain slamming into his head, Trent reacted to the shout, trying to bring his gun up, but was stopped when electric sparks raced through his arm making him screech in agony. The gun fell out of his hand and was instantly kicked away, skidding across the roof and under one of the ventilation units. It managed to slip into the vent hole and drop into the shaft, clattering all the way down.

Attempting to right himself after the sparks disappeared, Trent's jaw was clipped with the baton knocking him off balance again... and the sparks reappeared between his legs.

Ghoul, using her 'shock glove', grabbed his groin and sent electrified fire through Trent's balls, causing him to scream.

"You lied to us, you fucker!" She grabbed at more of his crotch, the electricity spreading and his howls becoming louder, "You lied to ME! I believed in you; I trusted you! I was the one ready to give you a chance!"

She let go of his balls and viciously backhanded him, blood spewing from his mouth and nose. Jumping back, she paused allowing him to recover just enough to stagger to his feet and roared, "You have just royally PISSED ME OFF!!!"

Once Trent was almost vertical, Ghoul reared back growling out a yell and kicked her leg out, placing her boot squarely into his gut and sending him sprawling across the roof. He rolled to a stop, coughing and gagging, and lifted his head to see...

Ghoul rushed over to her partner, the worry in her voice evident even with the voice box distorting it, "Tom, are you all right? How bad is it?"

"Don't worry about me," he gasped, clutching at his leg, "I'll be fine for now."

"At least let me help stop the bleeding." Her voice faltered, seeing the puddle of red under his calf.

"I'll take care of it," he grunted, then pointed across the roof, "You just take care of him!"

Trent weakly pushed himself up, grabbing at his sore stomach and wincing as he clamored to his feet.

"I... I can... see you," he choked out, "How..."

His eyes went wide when it finally dawned on him and clicked into place in just under a second. He could see her, a colorless form kneeling next to her partner. She attacked him; that meant...

She can see me!

"You... bitch!" Trent coughed out, wheezing from the hit he took with blood oozing from his head and mouth, "I'll... kill you, you cunt!"

Ghoul rose from her crouch next to Ghost, checking him over one last time and making sure he was alright for the time being, and stared Trent down.

"I'm going to break you in half, you lying, worthless sack of shit!"

Trent growled and charged towards her, Ghoul bellowing in pure rage and doing the same... and collided head on.

Trent landed his fist along side of Ghoul's face, but in the same moment her baton came in swift and dug deep into his already damaged stomach, causing him to double over. Dazed from the knuckles that bit into her cheek, Ghoul staggered a bit but stayed on her feet.

Trent's fist darted towards her head again, but Ghoul ducked and rammed her baton into him a second time, this time into his chest. Coughing up more blood, he managed to stay somewhat vertical and readied himself for her next attack. As she reared back to bring her baton down on him a third time, Trent's arm lashed out and connected his fist with her jaw.

Ghoul grunted as her head snapped back and lost her balance, tripping herself up and falling to the tarred roof. Trent quickly brought his elbow down into her gut, and her breath exploded from her mouth, black dots dancing in the corners of her eyes and her baton rolling out of her hand.

Trent was ready to connect another blow to her face, but Ghoul swung her fist up and punched his groin, making him bellow again. She grabbed at his crotch, touching the metal tips of her glove together to give him another blast of electric pain.

Nothing; the charge in her glove was depleted.

"Shit," she muttered, then simply grabbed harder and twisted, sending him down to the tar with her.

But Trent wasn't ready to give in, and grabbed her hand and applied some twisting of his own. Ghoul screamed, feeling the bones in her wrist grate together, and was forced to release him. Getting the upper hand back, Trent forced Ghoul to her feet by twisting her arm behind her. Once up, he pushed her forward a bit and slammed his foot into her back, sending her across the roof and tumbling to a stop against an air conditioner.

Trent, trying to catch his breath, stumbled back over to where Jacko's body was and rummaged around under his coat, finding his gun. But as he stood up with the money case back in his hand, he noticed something was wrong.

Ghost wasn't lying next to Jacko anymore; only a smear of blood marked the spot where he was last seen.

"Pierce!" Trent yelled out over the rooftop, the echo bouncing of the machinery. He turned back to Ghoul who was picking herself up and wincing at the pain that pierced the shoulder she was holding.

"Fine," he mumbled, working his way over to Ghoul, "We'll play... 'Hide and Seek' in a minute; I bet I'll win. In the meantime, your partner... gets hers first."

Ghoul dashed away from the conditioner, but not fast enough.

Trent aimed the gun and fired two rounds. One bullet clipped her leg and bounced off a piece of her armor, sending her staggering; the other into her vest, causing her to grunt out a noise of pain and slamming her body against the concrete side of the edge of the roof.

She could only lie there, trying to force air back into her lungs, and watch as Trent strolled up to her. Pointing the gun at her head and setting the case of money off to the side, he bent down and forced his fingers under her chin. He slipped the mask off of her head, smearing some of the blood coming out of her nose across her bruised cheek. Then he grabbed the case again, stood over her, and gloated.

"Nice... try, bitch," he said, still coughing up blood and gasping for air, "You guys were good... but I wasn't the only one lying. You two were just lying to yourselves. You... could've had anything you wanted using this power... but you chose to be heroes. It doesn't pay to be a hero anymore; you're just wasting your time. You've been on... the wrong side of the 'law and order' game," he showed the case to her, "this is where it pays off. And now that it has and I don't have... to deal with it anymore, I can be on my way."

Trent's eyes bugged out of his head as an arm wrapped around his neck, and a hand grabbing his wrist forcing the gun away from Brenda.

"Not without saying 'goodbye'!"

"Pierce," Trent choked out, Tom's arm tightening, "you motherfuckin'..."

Brenda propped herself up on her elbows, wincing as the sharp pain still punctured her shoulder, and saw the two men struggling as she tried to get back up in order to help.

Trent, dropping the money, tried to loosen Tom's grip on him, but couldn't budge the thick arm coiled around his throat, nor could he untangle his gun hand from the beefy hand grasping his wrist.

Instead, he purposely shifted his weight, causing Tom to slip backwards. Once his balance was off, Trent kicked his foot into Tom's leg and hit the spot where he was shot. Tom cried out as fire leaped up his calf, and tumbled over releasing Trent from the headlock.

Slipping out of his grasp, Trent stepped back and aimed his gun at Tom, his mask off and replaced with the detective's night vision goggles.

"You were... right; they work perfectly," Tom chuckled through a cough.

Trent bent down and swung his gun at his face, the barrel scraping and cutting into his cheek.

"Shut up!" he growled, sucking and hissing through his clenched teeth, "You don't get it, do you! It's over; you lost!" He viciously kicked Tom in the gut, forcing air to burst from his bleeding mouth. "No 'hero saving the day' at the end of the comic book this time! You can't stop me now!" He stooped down near the edge of the roof to pick up the case as he clicked the hammer back on his gun and pointed it at Tom's head, "You'll be dead, and I'll be on a plane to the Bahamas by the time anyone figures out what happened."

Trent stopped his monologue and cocked his head at Tom; he was trying to say something.

"What? You have something else to say to me before you die?"

"I said," Tom wheezed out, "...'you forgot something, again'."

Trent heard the mechanical clicking off to the side and turned to see...

Brenda, standing as best she could using a vent to steady herself, her mask dangling from her belt... aimed her grappler and fired.

Trent swung his arm around to point his gun at her, but the grappler reached its target first. The magnetic clasp raced across the roof with a hiss of exploding gas and slammed directly into Trent's forehead.