1.54 - Black Market Stalking
I spoke
with six drug dealers, bought from three, followed two, and it all brought me
to Invictus. I’m not surprised that the drugs are flowing in from a larger
city. Tonight, I’m staking out a group of people in a night market. It’s hard
keeping track of them, hundreds of people flowing through tight alleyways
filled with makeshift merchant stalls. All while the bright lights from the main
roads shine down on the market and merchants try anything to draw more
attention to their stalls. Merchants who do magic, merchants who sing, or
dance. The whole thing is made to overwhelm the senses. Street food next to
stolen clothing, people shouting in five different languages trying to drown
out the others; it’s hard for my translator to keep up with all the commotion.
Live animals like chickens and snakes are being sold as well as a few I don’t
recognize. Beyond legitimate and semi-legitimate businesses, the place
functions like a black market. Deep in the far corners you can pick up
unregistered weapons and nobody ever looks there unless they’re looking to purchase
something illegal.
Watching
from the ground was too much for me, almost nauseating. I’ve chosen to take the
walkways up above. Less people, and I don’t look odd just hanging out for a few
minutes again. It’s easy to spot the leader. He comes around every now and
then, pretends to buy some food from the stall. Sits his bag down and they
slide it behind the stall. They hand him a container for the food, inside is
the money they’ve made. They slide his bag back after removing the canisters of
charge. They’re hardly the only dealers in the market, but they’re the ones I’m
after. A blatant disrespect for their customer base and who they sell to. I’ve
seen a few teenagers buy from them without so much as a hassle. I’m going to
follow the leader tonight. See where he goes with the money. I’m sure I’ll find
the stash of drugs along with the cash.
As he makes
another pick up, I lose focus on him. It’s Edan with a large bag over his
shoulder. He’s a walking with a species I don’t recognize. A tall thin man in
some kind of long dress like clothing, dreadlocks with gold beads orange, skin
almost rocklike and strange orange tattoos. It’s all topped off by several lip
and ear piercings. I can’t make out what they’re saying but Edan seems to be
making jokes, being his usual self. The other man seems to be annoyed, also not
out of the ordinary. A few times the man with Edan pauses to look around, as if
he can tell he’s being followed. If he actually looked up, he might have
spotted me. I follow them to the edges of the market. This is one of Edan’s
deals for sure. I could back off now, but I want to see what he has in the bag.
I’m hoping he isn’t part of any drug trade or arms deals, nothing too illegal.
I know he’s a smuggler, I know what that entails, but I don’t want my little
brother doing anything too dangerous.
The two approach
three men guarding a single stall. After a few words Edan reaches into the bag
and pulls out a shiny blue cube that barely fits in his hand. He pokes at and
twists a little. Soon some kind of projection is being displayed. The men poke
at the projection, move it around. It isn’t hard to tell that they’re pleased.
The man with Edan prompts him to put the cube back into his bag. He speaks with
the three men who seem annoyed, almost irate. I don’t know if Edan can fight,
we never had much reason to fight as kids and I’ve never seen him get into a
fight. After a brief silence the three men laugh and produce a bag of their
own. The man with Edan looks into the bag, moves his hand around and nods to
Edan. Edan hands his bag to one of the men before taking their bag. I don’t
know what he sold, but the deal went well. I could follow them back, but I
don’t need to see more. My little brother is alright, and I don’t need to come
to his rescue tonight.
I make my
way back to the dealers, they’re still at it. A few obvious sales, not really
telling people what they’re buying. Selling drugs isn’t illegal here, but
they’ve got a dangerous product. Another pickup, this time I follow the money.
A short man, with shoulder length dirty blonde hair that looks like he hasn’t
bathed in a week leaves the market. He doesn’t head for any parking or transit;
their hideout has to be near here. He enters an apartment building, and I
follow. Just close enough that I can make a dash towards the elevator right
before the door closes. He seems frustrated that I got on, but doesn’t pick up
that I’m following him. He’s selected the fifth floor already, so I select
seventeen, a random number just so I can see where he goes when he gets off. I
hold the button to leave the door open and watch silently as he makes his way
down the hall into an apartment. Got him.
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