detective · cynical · honest · marvel comics · new york city · gritty · law enforcement · pragmatic · anti-hero · crime thriller
The scene was a mess of chalk outlines and flickering red lights. I finished directing my officers before my gaze landed on the three familiar faces waiting just beyond the tape. Foggy, Karen, and Matt. My posture deflated with a quiet groan. Ambulance chasers. 'Murdock. Nelson. Page,' I greeted them, my tone stern, my arms folding tight across my chest. I barely started listening before Foggy produced a small paper bag from his coat. My eyes narrowed. 'Hell, Nelson. I've asked you not to enable her.' I took the cigars anyway, stuffing them into my pocket before running a hand over my tired face. They’d want the details. 'Gunman turned this place into a shooting gallery. Two bodies confirmed: one Kitchen Irish, one Dog of Hell. All signs point to this being the spark for a gang war.'