Fan Fiction

by S. Stiles (Elliander at aol dot com)

Chapter 1 :: Chapter 2 :: Chapter 3 :: Chapter 4

Sonny stood next to Rico, smiling unbelieving, as they watched their old pigeon Izzy Moreno in his newest business venture. The freaky little Cuban was teaching calypso dancing to a group of perhaps seven, nearly nude beach bunnies. He was coping a feel every chance he got and unbelievably enough none of those knockout babes seemed to mind.

"I gotta admit," Sonny said, "he hit the jackpot this time."

Rico chuckled, "Yeah. And it even looks like he's doing it legal."

Izzy caught sight of the two detectives and the huge smile he was wearing wavered briefly. Then it was back and he spoke briefly with the girls before walking over to them.

"Crockett. Tubbs." He said in his annoying falsetto accent, "I'm perfectly legal here, guys."

"We'll discuss your legalities later, Moreno." Sonny said, masking his smile.

"We want some information, Izzy." Rico said.

"Information?" Izzy repeated. "I know nothing."

"If only that were true." Sonny said.

"Let's have a seat." Rico suggested, propelling Izzy toward a set of empty benches nearby. The three of them sat down.

"Okay. What do you guys want?"

"Dwight Forrestor." Sonny said, "What do you know about him?"

Izzy's complexion actually paled about two shades. "Sorry. Never heard of him." He said hurriedly and started to stand up.

"Not so fast, Moreno." Sonny said, yanking him back down.

"Spill it, Izzy." Rico growled.

Izzy glanced from one detective to the other, almost looking like a trapped rabbit. He was silent for a long time before sighing deeply. "Okay. Okay." He paused again.

Sonny caught Rico's gaze over the top of Izzy's head. Of all the times they had pressed him for information he had never acted as strangely as this. Terrified was a good word to describe his current state.

"Dwight Forrestor is very bad. Muy malo. He's the right hand man to Thomas Reed, Jr."

"If he's so bad how come we never heard of him?" Sonny asked.

"He's targeted by bigger fish than you yokels." Izzy said. "The Federales just lost someone on him."

"That would explain why they put a lock on his file." Sonny said.

"What else have you got?" Rico asked.

"Nothing. I swear." Izzy said. "It's like everybody knows him just enough to know to stay out of his way."

Sonny and Rico exchanged glances again and then Sonny stood up, pulling Izzy with him. "Get on back to your, um, classes there, Izz. And keep your ears open."

"Your wish ezz my command." Izzy said with a grandiose bow. And with a flourish, he turned and rejoined his group of giggling, jiggling bunnies. Sonny watched after him a moment grinning in mild amusement and then looked at Rico. "Well, partner, whaddya think?"

Rico thought a few moments, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. "Well, I think...what the hell? It ain't like we haven't tangled with the Feds before."

Sonny nodded staring out across the beachfront, "We bag him and they're just gonna waltz in here and take him from us."

"Probably." Rico agreed.

Their gazes locked again and the decision was made silently. They got up together and walked back to the Ferrari.

"Where you want to eat?" Sonny asked pulling out into the traffic.

"How 'bout some Chinese?" Rico suggested.

Sonny nodded once and picked up his car phone. He dialed from memory and waited as the phone trilled in his ear. On the fourth ring a heavily accented voice answered. "Mendoza."

"Edwardo, my man." Sonny replied.

"Senor Burnett." Mendoza said. "I was beginning to think you backed out."

"Backed out? Me?" Sonny let his tone be sarcastically indignant. "Never. Just had to take care of a little problem with one of my distributors. You ready to talk business?"

"Always." Mendoza replied.

"Meet us at the Dragon's Lair over on Beckert Street."

"I'll be there in," a short pause, "a half hour."

"Good enough."

Sonny punched the disconnect, "We'll lay it out for him again. Let him play it like he wants. If these Forrestor and Reed boys are as heavy as Izzy says we don't want to spook them."

Rico nodded in agreement and then silence settled, broken only by the wind flowing over the open roof of the Ferrari.

Twenty minutes later, Sonny pulled into the Dragon's Lair parking lot. It was almost empty at this time of day and that was good. The fewer ears the better. They got out of the car and went into the restaurant, finding a booth in the far corner. The waitress had just brought their drinks when Mendoza walked in. He sat down and joined them with a toothy smile.

"So you've decided to do some business after all. Eh, mi amigos?"

"You're positive this boss of yours can handle the weight?" Sonny asked, sipping his drink, "Because if you jerk us around on this we're not going to be very happy. And believe me, you don't want to see us unhappy."

Mendoza chuckled as if the threat was amusing to him. "He can handle it. I told him you wanted one thousand keys of our finest."

"And?" Rico asked.

"He want to meet with you. He doesn't like doing business with people he doesn't know."

"When and where?" Sonny took another sip of his drink.

Mendoza reached for a napkin and scribbled something on it. He slid it across the table. "Nine o'clock tomorrow night."

Sonny looked at the directions. "What are you? Nuts?"

"You want the deal, you play the game our way."

Sonny heard the finality in Mendoza's tone and knew argument would lead nowhere. He nodded once and Mendoza stood up. "Have a good day, gentlemen."

When he had disappeared out the door, Sonny slid the directions to Rico. He looked at them and then at Sonny.

"That's in the middle of the damn Everglades."

Sonny nodded. "Odd place for an intro." "Maybe Marty's right. Maybe we should just back on out of this one."

"Too late now, man." Sonny said.

by S. Stiles (Elliander at aol dot com)

Chapter 1 :: Chapter 2 :: Chapter 3 :: Chapter 4