A Deal in the Dark
December 4, 2024
The diner on 5th Street was nearly empty, save for the faint hum of a jukebox playing a tune from decades past. Detective Jules Mercer sat in the corner booth, sipping black coffee. Across from him sat Claire Nolan, a known informant whose loyalty was as reliable as a faulty car battery.
“You sure about this?” Jules asked, his voice low.
Claire lit a cigarette, her fingers trembling slightly. “You want Russo, don’t you? This is your shot.”
Jules leaned closer. “What’s the catch?”
Claire exhaled a plume of smoke, her eyes darting to the door as if she expected someone to burst through. “He’s making a deal tonight. Midnight. Down at the shipping yard. Pier 14.”
“What’s he moving?” Jules asked.
“Guns, cash, something big. All I know is, he’s paranoid as hell. If he sees a badge, he’ll bolt. Or worse.”
“Then why are you telling me?” Jules asked, suspicion lacing his words.
Claire crushed her cigarette in the ashtray, her jaw tightening. “Because I’m done. I want out. You take him down, and maybe I get a shot at a clean slate.”
Jules studied her for a long moment, then slid a wad of cash across the table. “For your troubles.”
Claire pocketed the money without a word, grabbed her coat, and walked out into the cold night.
Jules sat in his car, parked two blocks from the shipping yard. Midnight crept closer, the city quiet except for the occasional sound of distant traffic.
“Mercer, you in position?” crackled a voice over the radio. It was his partner, Detective Sarah Blake, stationed on the opposite side of the yard.
“Yeah,” Jules replied. “Anything on your end?”
“Nothing yet. You sure about this tip?”
“Not even a little,” Jules admitted, but his gut told him Claire wasn’t lying.
The minutes ticked by, and then, headlights cut through the darkness. A black SUV pulled up near Pier 14. Jules adjusted his binoculars, watching as three men emerged, including Dominic Russo, the city’s most wanted crime lord.
“Got eyes on Russo,” Jules said into his radio.
“Copy,” Sarah replied.
Another car arrived, this one a sleek sedan. A man stepped out, carrying a briefcase. Jules couldn’t make out his face, but the body language screamed importance.
“Looks like the buyer’s here,” Jules muttered.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A glint of movement in his side mirror caught his attention. Someone was approaching his car.
Before he could react, the door was yanked open, and a gun pressed against his temple.
“Evening, Detective,” a voice sneered. Jules recognized it instantly—Russo’s right-hand man, Vinnie Carlo.
“Didn’t your mother teach you to knock?” Jules quipped, trying to mask the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
“Get out,” Vinnie ordered.
Jules complied, his hands raised.
“Russo knew you’d show up,” Vinnie said, smirking. “You got a rat problem, Mercer.”
Minutes later, Jules was dragged to Pier 14, where Russo greeted him with an icy smile.
“Detective Mercer,” Russo drawled. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for years.”
Jules glanced at the briefcase, now open, revealing stacks of cash and blueprints. Whatever Russo was selling, it wasn’t just weapons.
“You know, Russo,” Jules said, “for a guy who’s supposed to be smart, you’re real predictable.”
Russo’s smile faded. “What are you—”
Before he could finish, the sound of sirens filled the air, and floodlights lit up the yard. SWAT officers poured in, guns drawn.
“Hands in the air!” a voice boomed.
Vinnie panicked, pulling his gun, but Jules seized the moment, elbowing him in the ribs and grabbing the weapon.
Russo froze, his face a mask of fury. “You set me up.”
“Yeah,” Jules said, aiming the gun at him. “Turns out rats are good for something.”
Claire Nolan emerged from the shadows, flanked by officers. She locked eyes with Jules, her expression unreadable.
As Russo was cuffed and led away, Jules couldn’t shake the feeling that the night wasn’t over. Deals in the dark always came with a price, and he wasn’t sure who’d pay it next.