The Nightwatcher Chronicles: Narcotics

Three months had passed since the assassination attempt on Mayor Mare’s life. The war against the Black Snake spread across the city. It seemed to not affect our fight against Hamato and the Black Snake. It was very aggravating. Not only that the support for the Teen Mutant Alliance dropped for the most stupid reason. Our suits. The Teen Mutant Alliance and I were using what we had and worked with it. It’s what we fought for was that mattered, not how we looked.

Then, a big-name clothing line designer started bad-mouthing us by calling us “hobos” and “street scum”. As usual, I ignored it and carried on with our fight against the Black Snake. I tried tuning out the “noise” until about a week later after that clothing line designer made her slightly demeaning comments

Jessie, Rarity, and I were at a spa that was close to Rarity's house, which was ten miles away from the apartment complex. I’m not a spa-going person. I’ll clip my nails via my teeth and I don’t need skin moisturizers even though I have a dry skin problem. Jessie persuaded me into going by promising to cook my favorite breakfast the next morning. It was mildly embarrassing because I disliked being touched in ways that make me uncomfortable. A spa would be an excellent example of that.

Anyway, they were soaking in a hot tub that had essential oils in the water while I was being rubbed down with skin moisturizers, trying to make the best out of my less-than-comfortable situation.

“So...umm...what do you think about the Teen Mutant Alliance?” I asked the lady who was rubbing me down, whose name was Mint Oil.

“They’re decent people, I suppose. Besides beating criminals up and killing terrorists,” Mint Oil replied. “Although their attire isn’t all that impressive.”

“What makes you think that?”

“To be honest, they look like a bunch of slobs running around. Not like a disciplined group of…of...Elie, what was the word you used to describe the Teen Mutant Alliance?”

“Vigilantes,” the other lady replied, who was in the back smoking.

“Vigilantes, that’s it. When I saw the Blitzing Knight, Cloaked Hunter, and Shadow Charger about a week ago, I thought they were homeless until I saw their weapons.”

“Maybe they don’t care about how people think they should look.”

“Perhaps, but as my mother used to say, ‘Mint Oil, when you want a job in the future, dress for it. Don’t look like a bum.’”

I thought about what she said. Deep down, I knew she was right. Three months ago, that Diamond Dawg had acknowledged that I looked less than intimidating, and Mayor Mare said that we need a suit redesign. Perhaps it was my stubbornness that was the reason why I refused to listen.

“Maybe you’re right, Mint Oil,” I said, quietly.

“If only the Teen Mutant Alliance would listen to our opinions, but I'm sure they are more focused on their war with the Black Snake, which is perfectly understandable,” Mint Oil sighed.

“I know where the Nightwatcher hangs out when he’s on patrol. I could put in a good word for you,” Rarity announced. “Let’s just hope he listens.”

I was still thinking about the uniform situation until an unpleasant smell filled my nostrils. It smelled like a tea I used to drink in Brazil, called chimarom, but it also smelled like a mixture of sugar and skunk spray. The woman, who was named Elie, walked back into the room but she looked different than when she walked back there to smoke.

She was glazed over and looked a lot more relaxed than when she went back to smoke. When she walked past me, the smell followed her. I knew that she wasn’t sprayed by a skunk while she was smoking. She had been smoking marijuana. Jessie must’ve smelt it too because she wrinkled her nose.

“Es marihuana, Jessie.”

(Spanish) “It’s marijuana, Jessie,” I told her.

“That was a good hit! You should try some of it!” Elie shouted, sounding extremely high.

“Quite, Elie. You’re disturbing the customers,” Mint Oil scolded.

“You be quiet, bitch!”

The ladies argued back and forth for a solid ten minutes. I think it was safe to say I was a lot more uncomfortable and awkward than when I first walked into the spa. Finally, Rarity said something.

“I think we’ve spent enough time here,” Rarity announced, nervously.

Rarity and Jessie got out of the hot tub, grabbed a couple of towels, and went to the register to pay for the treatment. I managed to shoo Mint Oil away and leave with the girls.

“What were you talking about that required you to speak in a different language?” Rarity asked curiously, as we left the spa.

“Elie had been smoking marijuana in the back,” Jessie responded.

“Marijuana? Where did she get that?” Rarity asked.

I just shrugged my shoulders.

“It seems to me that Headhunter is dabbling in drug dealing. That makes the war against the Black Snake much more difficult,” Jessie said.

“No kidding,” I grumbled.

Later that night, I was on patrol in the business district of Canterlot City. For the most part, it was quiet. It was when some motion in a parking lot in the park caught my attention. I climbed into a tree to get a better look. Two Black Dragon gang members walked out from behind a van. They had on blue jeans, grey t-shirts that had a large black dragon on them, and black jackets. One gang member was armed with a TEC-9 semi-automatic pistol, and the other one had a shotgun that resembled a Mossberg 500 tactical shotgun. Another one had a large, silver briefcase in his hand. They had begun looking around and acting suspiciously. Five minutes later, four Black Snake terrorists appeared from the shadows.

The terrorists’ arrival got my attention. One of them had a black duffle bag, and he tossed it on the ground. The Black Dragon with the case opened it up, and I saw stacks of money.

“Is that the exact amount?” the terrorist asked gruffly. The heavy Japanese accent was very prominent.

“No more, no less than thirteen thousand, as requested,” the gang member replied slyly. “Now, show me the merchandise.”

The terrorist laid down his Mk-47 and opened up the duffle bag. In the duffle were bags of this white stuff that looked like bricks of crystal quartz wrapped in plastic, except it wasn’t. It was bricks of cocaine. It looked like the unrefined stuff, which is better known as crack cocaine. At this point, I knew it was time to intervene.

I pulled out both of my pistols and killed the Black Snake terrorists. They didn’t even have time to reach for their weapons. The gang members saw me jump down from the tree. I ran towards them as they began to shoot at me. Bullets and pellets hit my shield but the Black Dragons kept shooting.

I jumped down from the tree and did a taigāsurō no ha move on the closest Black Dragon. His head hit the ground and lay there, unconscious. Then, I used my pistol to hit one of the other members across his head and he collapsed. The last gang member dropped his TEC-9 and got into a Bobi no kamae stance. I was impressed.

“You know ninjutsu?” I asked as I holstered my pistols.

“I was taught by the best sensei in Canterlot,” the Black Dragon sneered.

“Let’s see how skilled you are.”

I threw the first punch to test his reflexes and they were very fast. He blocked my punch with his forearm and used his other elbow to throw a left hook. Seizing a perfect opportunity, I punched his elbow and I heard his elbow crack. He screamed in pain. Then I switched over to judo and did an Ippon seoi nage move. He landed on his back with a loud thud.

“Mercy. Have mercy, please. I beg you,” the gang member pleaded.

“Why are you buying drugs from the Black Snake,” I growled as I pulled out a katana and pointed it at his face.

“They offered us protection from the police if we said we would sell this stuff,” he cried.

“Who are you selling it to?”

“Anyone who will buy it. It’s $162.50 s a kilo.”

“That’s expensive, even for crack.”

“Hey, I’m not making the price tags here.”

I walked over to the duffle bag. There were at least twenty bricks of cocaine in the bag. I reached out and took out a brick of cocaine and began walking away.

“What are you doing with that? Are you going to snort some yourself?” the gang member asked.

“No. I’m going to have an associate of mine check out this stuff to make sure you weren’t being set up.

I turned around to go to my motorcycle but a woman from behind me told me not to move. I turned back around and I saw her pointing a small .22 caliber pistol at me. The woman was none other than Mint Oil herself. She alternated pointing the gun at me and the gang member, who was still on the ground.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m keeping you two hobos here until the cops get here,” she replied nervously.

I grunted and turned around to return to my motorcycle. Then, I heard two gunshots. Two bullets hit my shield where my right shoulder would be. Rolling my eyes, I kept on walking into the darkness. Police cars came around a corner on the far end of the park. Thankfully, I had a motorcycle parked under a tree not too far away.

As I cranked it and drove away, I remembered what Mint Oil had called me and the Black Dragon gang member. She didn’t even recognize that I was the Nightwatcher. That was the last straw. I drove angrily back to the apartment. I had enough with the hobo bullcrap.

Eventually, I arrived at the apartment complex but I had to turn off my motorcycle to avoid waking everyone in the complex up. After pushing the motorcycle to my parking space, I walked up the stairs and went inside the apartment.

Lance, Dylan, and Eric were still awake while everyone else was on patrol. They were playing cards while Orange Bunny was playing a first-person shooter game on the computer. They didn't notice I had come in. I tossed the brick of cocaine on Orange’s desk.

“I need you to analyze the contents in that brick,” I ordered Orange Bunny.

“Fine. It better be worth my fucking time,” Orange Bunny grumbled.

I sat down on the couch and removed my mask.

“That was unbelievable,” I grumbled

“What happened?” Eric asked.

“The names we get called because of our uniforms,” I replied.

“Wait. That is what is got you in a bad mood?” Lance questioned.

“Yes. I'm on the verge of getting that upgrade that everyone is telling us to get,” I announced.

“It’s about time. Devin is complaining that he has a hard time using his bo staff,” Dylan informed.

“He’s been complaining about that for months, dude,” I said.

“The question is, who are you going to ask to make the uniforms?” Lance pointed out.

“It has to be someone that knows that we are the Teen Mutant Alliance. We can’t afford to tell anyone else,” Eric added.

“Ha. I’d love to hear that conversation. ‘Hello, So And So. My friends and I are the Teen Mutant Alliance and we need a suit upgrade because we are embarrassed about the way we look. So please-”

“I get your point, Lance, you don’t have to mock me. Besides, we know someone who can make the suits for us.”

“And who would that be?” Eric asked, suspiciously.

“Rarity. Duh,” I replied.

“When are you going to ask her about the upgrades?” Lance asked.

“I’ll figure that out sooner or later,” I replied.

“Let’s hope she’ll agree to it,” Dylan stated.

“She will. Rarity owes Devin and me a favor for saving her from a situation that happened a couple of weeks ago.”

“I finished analyzing the shit you gave me,” Orange Bunny announced.

“And?” I asked.

“It's 100% refined cocaine. Where did you find this shit.,” Orange replied, a little loudly.

“The Black Snake. They have been selling drugs to the gangs so they can sell it to people who’ll pay for it.”

“How much a kilo?” Lance asked.

“$162.50 a kilo,” I answered.

“That’s pretty expensive for a kilogram of cocaine.”

“How would you know, Lance,” Dylan questioned.

“My older brother, David Wallace, dealt drugs before I was born. My family lived in Virginia and he and a couple of his friends were dealing with a bunch of jocks from the local college when the police showed up. He pulled out a gun and began shooting. Five cops died that night and David was the only one that was caught. He was convicted and five years later, he got the needle. When my powers came up, I swore that I’d stop drug dealers so people don’t end up like my brother,” Lance explained.

Eric asked Lance who told him the story. He said that his parents told him the story and they found out about his drug dealing business when they found a list of each drug with a price of how much each kilo was worth.

“Lovely story, Lance. Now, what do I do with the fucking coke?” Orange snapped.

“Have Daniel burn it when he gets home from patrol,” I replied.

I went into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. After removing my weapons, I changed into a pair of shorts and went to bed. The guys played Uno for about another hour before they went to bed.

As I laid down on my bed, I thought about how I was going to ask for the upgrades but I fell asleep before coming up with a decent plan. Then, I had a dream that was interrupted by Jesus.

I was sitting on the beach with Jessie, holding her hand when the Lamb of God himself walked by. He was wearing red swim trunks and He didn’t have a shirt on. To be honest, I expected him to have six-pack abs but no dice.

“Hello, my son. I need to speak with you,” Jesus greeted.

I told Jessie had to leave and she released my hand.

After getting up, I walked with Jesus a little way down the beach until He started talking. He had a serious look on his face so I decided to pay special attention.

“We’re alone. What’s up?” I asked, curiously.

“I’m here in regards to Lance.”

“First, it’s Daniel. Now, it’s Lance. What’s wrong with him? He seems fine to me.”

“He may seem like it, on the surface. You already know not to judge a book by its cover. Notice how Lance sounded when he talked about his brother.”

“Lance did sound a little choked up.”

“He’s very serious and passionate about stopping the distribution of drugs. If I were you, I’d let him help with it.”

“No disrespect, Jesus, but I can't fight a war on drugs and against the Black Snake. It would be a war on two fronts. You saw how that worked for Adolf Hitler. He failed miserably.”

“You’re right, Matthew. Here’s the difference between you and Hitler. First, you have me as a guide. Hitler had mere mortals, who were evil, as guides. Second, I’m telling you how to fight a drug war.”

“Remember when David went to attack the Philistines and he asked how to attack them?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And remember how your father told you that you were like David in many ways?”

“Yes, I do. How do I stop the next drug deal?”

Jesus grinned and gave me this order.

He said, “When you get your upgrades, go interrogate the Black Dragon gang members in prison. They’ll talk. I promise.”

“Okay.”

The dream ended and I woke up. The sun was just coming up and a cardinal was singing just outside my window.