Oliver Knight: Freelance Detective - Part 2

Oliver glared as the goons exited the cars and raced towards his own vehicle. He was surprised that the mugs were probably going to get away with what they were going to do. Oliver wasn't stupid. If they didn't kill the two detectives on the spot they would take them in for their own kind of "interrogation". Oliver and James were forced out of their car and held at gun point.

One of the henchman smirked and said, "You shoulda known better than to go missin' with us."

Oliver ignored him and assessed the situation. He wanted to get James out of this if he could. He was too young to go down now, and someone had to continue the investigation. Of course Oliver wouldn't let himself bite the bullet if he could help it. Only two of the five henchmen had their guns. He could shoot one and maybe the other if he had time. Lucky for him one of them got cocky and lowered his gun.

"We're gonna teach you a lesson!"
One of them yelled and punched Oliver in the jaw.

Oliver responded by punching him back and pulling out his gun. A bang rang out through the air.

Oliver shot the six-foot-tall goon twice in the gut, causing the giant of a man to stumble backwards, blood pouring down his front, but the henchman was able to fire one more shot before falling to the ground. Oliver felt his left kneecap shatter as the bullet tore through his leg. Oliver immediately collapsed in the middle of the road, his face colliding with the hot pavement. He could hear people getting out of their cars and running away from the gunshots. A woman screamed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver could see that James had taken cover behind their DeSoto. James had taken out his own pistol and was firing at the other four henchmen. While three of the mafia members sprinted back to their cars to retrieve their weapons, the fourth had readied his Tommy gun and was shooting wildly at their car, where James was taking cover.

Noticing his lack of protection, Oliver gritted his teeth and rolled himself underneath the car and onto the other side. By the time he reached his partner, tears were running down Oliver's face from the immense pain. James was ducking in and out of cover, trying to get shots off in between the bursts of machine gun fire. Finally, he was able to shoot the armed henchman, right in the neck. The man dropped his firearm, clutching at his neck with both hands as he watched his own blood splurt onto the ground in front of him.

As the man dropped dead, Oliver managed to cry out between gasps of pain, "Nice shot, but we have to get out of here NOW!"

James nodded his head, holstered his pistol, and threw Oliver's arm around his shoulders. Using James as support, Oliver was able to hop on his one good leg. They made a break for a nearby alley way and were able to make it through the entrance just as the other mafia members began firing their own weapons of choice. Bullets flying past them, James and Oliver hobbled down the empty alley and were able to make it around a corner to safety. The pain from his knee was beginning to make Oliver feel light-headed, and he see his vision fading.

"We're gonna make it!" Oliver heard James say, but he sounded far away. They were headed towards an opening in the alley that exited onto an empty street, when Oliver suddenly heard the sound of sirens. Just as the two detectives were a few feet away from the street, Oliver could make out two cop cars pulling in front of them, blocking the route. Chicago's finest exited their blue and white vehicles with drawn guns, just as Oliver's vision failed completely.

"Don't move!" was the last thing Oliver heard before blacking out completely.

Oliver Knight woke up in a dirty cell, lying on a worn mattress. A brace had been applied to his knee, and with some effort he was able to get off the bed and stand up, being careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg. He still felt woozy, probably due to loss of blood. He limped over to the nearby sink and splashed some water in his face before calling out "James?" No reply.

Oliver heard a door open and looked through the metal bars of his cell to see to men enter the room outside: a middle-aged cop with a bushy mustache and a snide look on his face, and a large man wearing a white business suit with short black hair. Towering over the cop, the man was clearly over six feet tall, and his presence was intimidating. His face had many scars, and part of it seemed to be badly burnt. It could only be one person.

"Bubba Sisney," Oliver said with clear hatred in his voice.

The Mafia boss smiled at the effect he had on the detective.

"Mr. Knight, I must say you look terrible. Were you in some sort of accident?" Sisney said. He laughed at his own joke; the cop snickered obediently.

Oliver spat on the ground and gave Sisney an icy stare.

"My, my, that's no way to thank me," Sisney smiled. "After all I should just kill you on the spot, seeing as you and your lackey took out some of my best men in your little scuffle. You were supposed to just die quickly and save me a lot of trouble, but seeing as you seem to show some promise, I'm going to offer you a deal."

Oliver said nothing. Bubba Sisney continued, "You and your pal clearly have some good marksman skills and a great reluctance to die. I could use people like you, and I can assure you the job I'm offering pays much better than the 'private investigating' you seem so fond of. Not to mention the other perks that come with working for the greatest crime boss this city has ever known."

"Shove off, Sisney. I don't deal with your kind," said Oliver defiantly.

"Let me make this perfectly clear," said Sisney, taking a few steps closer to the prison cell. "Either you take my offer... or you die. It's really that simple. But I can tell you need some time to think it over. When you're ready to make your decision, just yell for my pal Roger here." Sisney gestured towards the cop. "He'll get in touch with one of my boys, and we can get you started."

Oliver decided to remain silent. Bubba Sisney walked towards the door. Before leaving he looked over his shoulder and said, "Whatever you choose, I probably won't see you again any time soon. Heaven knows I have enough on my plate without devoting my time to you two bozos."

The two men left the room, leaving Oliver all alone in his cell.

Suddenly, he heard James voice from the cell next to his. "What are we gonna do boss?"