Post by zybala on Nov 23, 2022 15:19:37 GMT -5
~The Bronx, November 1935. The scene, black and white. A man sits behind a desk in a small office, a hamburg hat over his eyes and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey among the scattered papers on the desk. A knock at the door doesn't rouse the man, nor does the heavy pounding that follows. The door flies open and a blonde, rough looking man in a suit with a broad shoulder jacket walks in. He walks over to the desk and slams his fist on it. This wakes the sleeping man, who raises his hat as he yawns loudly. ~
Zybala: Well, if it ain't Commissioner Thomas Dylan. What brings my old boss to my neck of the woods?
Dylan: Mike, it's been a while. How've you been?
Zybala: Livin'. The pay ain't as regular as been with the force, but I scrape by. You?
~ Dylan sighs as he sits down. Zybala offers him a drink from the bottle, to which the older man declines. ~
Dylan: No thanks. You'd think the job'd be easier with prohibition ending and Kenny Internio being locked away for those bum murders, but that only opened up another can of worms.
~ A look of anger passes over Zybala's face at Kenny's name, but he composes himself. ~
Zybala: I told you, Kenny was just a fall guy. Bifford was the mastermind. I was working the case when I was wit the force, I found evidence! There is even a guy above him! All I could find was someone with the initials P.I.C. I think this person may be some kingpin. Some guy above everyone!
Dylan: That's just a conspiracy the gangs use to spook the boys in blue. I'd rather focus on the real stuff. Bifford brought better evidence pointing to Internio. Everything was in Kenny's name. The real-estate business, the labor wages, even the restaurant! Kenny was in charge and Biff blew the whistle.
Zybala: And that's why I quit! Because you guys can't see past the tip of your nose! Bifford's out there free as a jaybird to continue "Kenny's" business. Killing the homeless to make the property value rise!
Dylan: I know that! But my hands are tied!
~ This stuns the private dick into silence. Dylan takes the previously offered bottle and takes a drink before continuing. ~
Dylan: Look, Biff has his fingers in so many political pies, it goes all the way up to the governor. Kenny was a sacrifice the higher ups were okay with. Make Johnny Public feel like the cops did something, and the suits in charge get their kickbacks from Biff.
Zybala: Now, ain't that the cat's pajamas?? Is that why you came down here? To tell me I'm right, but we can't do squat about it?
Dylan: No. With Kenny going to jail, a lot of street toughs and wannabe bosses want to fill in the void they think he left. The boys in blue can only do so much, and I know a few are on one payroll or another. I'm dealing with information leaks and evidence tampering. I don't know who to trust anymore, except for you…
Zybala: I ain't joining the force again, Tommy.
Dylan: I know. I wanna hire you as a private dick.
~ Dylan pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Zybala. ~
Zybala: What's dis?
Dylan: A name of everyone who is trying to be the next Bronx kingpin. I want you to get as much dirt on them to either run them outta town or allow us to lock them up. Or a third option….
Zybala: You want me to make 'em "leave" leave?
Dylan: I'm not saying that. Though, I know you killed people in the war, so it won't be that hard if things get rough. I'll do what I can legally to get these goons off the streets, but I need you if the dirty work needs to get done. Because if we don't, these guys are going to have a rumble in the Bronx that will leave a lot of innocent folks dead or hurt. It has the possibility to be like an All Consuming Fire that we need to put out before it even sparks. Your choice, Mike. Who knows, you might be able to get a few to even help you take out Bifford. Enough creeps sing and not even the governor can save his large ass.
~ With that, Dylan gets up from the chair and heads out the office; closing the door behind him. Zybala looks at the names on the paper and sighs. ~
Zybala: A Rumble indeed. Half these mooks would kill their own granny for a bit more power. They all need to be behind bars… Though, some of them I wouldn't mind seeing sleep with the fishes…
~ Zybala opens a desk drawer and pulls out a six shooter revolver. After holstering the gun, he searches the draw some more, pulling out some reloaders and loose bullets. He pockets these before getting up and heads out of the office. The scene cuts ahead to see Zybala sitting in a 1930 Buick Series 40 Phaeton outside of a nightclub called "The Owl's Nest." ~
~ Zybala steps out of the car and walks past the line of people waiting to get in. An old man is watching the door and he allows Zybala to pass without an issue. They nod curtly at each other as the two thugs in line start complaining loudly. They step up to the old man with a "do you know who we are" attitude. The old man lays both of them out with two quick jabs. Zybala turns back when he hears the commotion and smiles at the outcome. Two less thugs for him to deal with. He goes to the Maître d' of the establishment and tells him to place a call to the police station to send a car to pick up the unconscious nobodies. Zybala then finds a table and watches the jazz band play. A polite cough behind him doesn't garner much attention. He just waves his hand. ~
Zybala:.No thanks, doll. I don't smoke.
Watts: And I ain't selling cigs, flat foot.
~ Zybala turns around and sees Diane Watts. The private eye flashes his best smile at the frowning woman. ~
Zybala: Hey dollface, how ya been?
Watts: Don'tcha give me that sweet talk, Mike. You only come in here when you want sumtin.
Zybala: Can't I stop by to see my two favorite gals in the Bronx? Besides, it's always nice to see old Ehud punch out a few mooks. I swear he lets me cut the line just to rile people up so he has an excuse to punch 'em.
Watts: Oh geez. Who'd he punch now?
Zybala: A coupla Thad's goons. Nobody that'll cause Alice trouble. I made a call for a wagon to pick 'em up. Let them spend a night in a cell to teach 'em to respect their elders. Care to sit?
~ Watts sits and motions for a server to bring them drinks. The pair wait until they're brought two whiskey on the rocks. Zybala give the lady a quarter before she moves on. Zybala offers a cheers, to which Watts clicks her glass against his. They sip as the music plays in the background. ~
Zybala: New band?
Watts: Not really. We hired them months ago. You'd know that if you stopped by more…
Zybala: What can I say? Time's been rough, kid. That's why I took a job from the commish.
~ Watts eyes Zybala suspiciously. ~
Watts: You back on the force?
Zybala: Nah. Just trying to help Tommy lock up a few guys or run them out of town. A few goons I think Alice wouldn't mind seeing out of the picture if my thinkins right….
~ He pulls the piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and slides it over to Watts. She looks at it, reading the names. Zybala continues as she reads. ~
Zybala: Look, I know I'm not your favorite right now. But I think your businesses would do great with a few of those names gone. Plus I think I can get them to flip on Biff, if not each other.
Watts: You're still after Biff, huh? Even though he got off free?
Zybala: We both know that Kenny was a patsy who took the fall. And we know that Alice has no love for Biff. So help a gumshoe out. Any idea where I can find those people?
Watts: Well, I'd ignore Scott Syren. He may have been a big time mobster, but he's way past his prime. The only reason he still hangs around is because people respect him. He doesn't have any real power left. The Rodriguez fellow is too hard to find. He disappeared a while back and while there are rumors of him coming back to run his gang, no one knows if it's true…. Ah, here's someone interesting.
Zybala: Who??
~ Watts turns the paper and points at a name. ~
Watts: Solomon Cain. He's been claiming to be the bastard of the rum smuggler Christian Cain.
Zybala: "The Outcast." I've had my share of run-ins with that old bastard when I was a cop. Tried busting up his operation all through prohibition. He stabbed me in the leg once. I thought his kid died years ago.
Watts: Solomon is claiming he's his other son. Both men have their own gangs and they've been going at it for months. Lots of bloodshed. Rumor has it that Bifford is inviting them to the docks tomorrow night for peace talks. He's getting a new shipment in immigrants to sell to the younger Cage for his whore houses. Biff wants Christian to sell his leftover booze to Solomon for the houses, and Biff will offer them both protection.
Zybala: Damn. What time tomorrow?
Watts: Not sure. Rumor is after ten..
Zybala: Thanks. With any luck, I can eliminate those three in one swoop. Here's looking at ya.
: Zybala and the other mobsters stare in shock as he watches Bifford and Dylan hug! Biff explains that The Commissioner has been his inside man all along and helped put the blame on Kenny! Everyone is on edge as they don't trust the cop or each other. Biff tries to calm everyone down by mentioning how much cash they'll be making, which eases most. But the Cains are a powder keg. Zybala realizes this and decides to light that keg. He slowly pulls out his sidearm and takes aim at Matt, who's leaning on the dock railing. Zybala fires and Matt falls over the top of the railing and into the water below. This is the trigger to the keg. All three gangs start firing at each other as Dylan ducks behind a car and the asian women run back onto the safety of the boat. Bodies start dropping left and right, nameless thugs eliminating one another. Uchiha immediately jumps over the railing into the water screaming similarly to the Wilhelm Scream! S.L. and Marshall charge at Solomon only to be taken out by a hail of bullets. Soon, only Bifford, the Cains and Dylan remain left. Zybala quietly gets down from the crate and sneaks closer. ~
Solomon: This is all your fault, old man! You left me behind! You hate that your own son will be more powerful than you!
Christian: My ONLY son is already dead!!
Solomon: No, but you are.
Dylan: Well, nuts. This is a messy situation.
Bifford: Not at all. Just another gang scuffle for the department to clean up. I see it as my biggest competition out of the way. You keep making money and I rule the underworld.
~ Zybala steps out with a gun trained on Biff. He cocks it, surprising the two men. ~
Zybala: Or I could send you to the underworld and the streets will be cleaner than they've been in years.
Bifford: Oh look, the former cop who helped put Kenny away. Thomas, take care of this has-been.
Dylan: You alright?
Zybala: I'll live. So, you were the inside man the whole time?
Dylan: Double agent. I knew that neither the mayor nor the governor would allow Biff's empire to be taken down while it lined they're pockets, so I had to do something. I'm sorry it cost you your job, but I had to play the long game.
Zybala: I'd probably do the same thing. Just lucky that they all took each other out and the good guys won.
Dylan: Yeah. And we could always use another good guy back on the force.
~ Dylan pulls a badge out of his pocket and holds it out to Zybala. ~
Dylan: What do you say??
Zybala: Well, if it ain't Commissioner Thomas Dylan. What brings my old boss to my neck of the woods?
Dylan: Mike, it's been a while. How've you been?
Zybala: Livin'. The pay ain't as regular as been with the force, but I scrape by. You?
~ Dylan sighs as he sits down. Zybala offers him a drink from the bottle, to which the older man declines. ~
Dylan: No thanks. You'd think the job'd be easier with prohibition ending and Kenny Internio being locked away for those bum murders, but that only opened up another can of worms.
~ A look of anger passes over Zybala's face at Kenny's name, but he composes himself. ~
Zybala: I told you, Kenny was just a fall guy. Bifford was the mastermind. I was working the case when I was wit the force, I found evidence! There is even a guy above him! All I could find was someone with the initials P.I.C. I think this person may be some kingpin. Some guy above everyone!
Dylan: That's just a conspiracy the gangs use to spook the boys in blue. I'd rather focus on the real stuff. Bifford brought better evidence pointing to Internio. Everything was in Kenny's name. The real-estate business, the labor wages, even the restaurant! Kenny was in charge and Biff blew the whistle.
Zybala: And that's why I quit! Because you guys can't see past the tip of your nose! Bifford's out there free as a jaybird to continue "Kenny's" business. Killing the homeless to make the property value rise!
Dylan: I know that! But my hands are tied!
~ This stuns the private dick into silence. Dylan takes the previously offered bottle and takes a drink before continuing. ~
Dylan: Look, Biff has his fingers in so many political pies, it goes all the way up to the governor. Kenny was a sacrifice the higher ups were okay with. Make Johnny Public feel like the cops did something, and the suits in charge get their kickbacks from Biff.
Zybala: Now, ain't that the cat's pajamas?? Is that why you came down here? To tell me I'm right, but we can't do squat about it?
Dylan: No. With Kenny going to jail, a lot of street toughs and wannabe bosses want to fill in the void they think he left. The boys in blue can only do so much, and I know a few are on one payroll or another. I'm dealing with information leaks and evidence tampering. I don't know who to trust anymore, except for you…
Zybala: I ain't joining the force again, Tommy.
Dylan: I know. I wanna hire you as a private dick.
~ Dylan pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Zybala. ~
Zybala: What's dis?
Dylan: A name of everyone who is trying to be the next Bronx kingpin. I want you to get as much dirt on them to either run them outta town or allow us to lock them up. Or a third option….
Zybala: You want me to make 'em "leave" leave?
Dylan: I'm not saying that. Though, I know you killed people in the war, so it won't be that hard if things get rough. I'll do what I can legally to get these goons off the streets, but I need you if the dirty work needs to get done. Because if we don't, these guys are going to have a rumble in the Bronx that will leave a lot of innocent folks dead or hurt. It has the possibility to be like an All Consuming Fire that we need to put out before it even sparks. Your choice, Mike. Who knows, you might be able to get a few to even help you take out Bifford. Enough creeps sing and not even the governor can save his large ass.
~ With that, Dylan gets up from the chair and heads out the office; closing the door behind him. Zybala looks at the names on the paper and sighs. ~
Zybala: A Rumble indeed. Half these mooks would kill their own granny for a bit more power. They all need to be behind bars… Though, some of them I wouldn't mind seeing sleep with the fishes…
~ Zybala opens a desk drawer and pulls out a six shooter revolver. After holstering the gun, he searches the draw some more, pulling out some reloaders and loose bullets. He pockets these before getting up and heads out of the office. The scene cuts ahead to see Zybala sitting in a 1930 Buick Series 40 Phaeton outside of a nightclub called "The Owl's Nest." ~
The Nest. The best place to start if there was ever any. A club run by the "Mustard Heiress" Alice Knight, who used her mustard mogul father's cash to open up the swankiest club in the Bronx. But it's only a front for her exotic animal trafficking ring for the rich elite of the town. Those that got their cash through either legal or illegal means. Alice kept tabs on all of them as blackmail insurance. If she went down, they all went down. I woulda busted this joint when I was on the force, but her book keeper, Diana Watts, keeps all the illegal stuff away from the legit business. Smart lady. Quick wit and quicker with a sidearm. Plus, she was sweet on me back in the day. That may make this nice and easy getting the info I need. Both ladies do like to sing on the other low lifes. Less competition, they say.
It's getting the info without too much of a price that's my worry. I hope it's not steep. I'd hate to lock these two up. Of the low life's in this city, they ain't that bad. Sure, the animals they sell aint legal, but they never kill innocent folk. Unlike the scum I see lining up to get in the club. Ollie *The Olive* Rhule and Jackie Sullivan to name a few. A few thugs under Mayor Thaddeus Duke's payroll. As dirty as a politician as there ever was. Wouldn't mind seeing him lose the next election. Though, Rhule and Sullivan and a few others have been known to strong arm people at the polls to get Thad his votes. Shit on legs, but small fish compared to what I'm after.
It's getting the info without too much of a price that's my worry. I hope it's not steep. I'd hate to lock these two up. Of the low life's in this city, they ain't that bad. Sure, the animals they sell aint legal, but they never kill innocent folk. Unlike the scum I see lining up to get in the club. Ollie *The Olive* Rhule and Jackie Sullivan to name a few. A few thugs under Mayor Thaddeus Duke's payroll. As dirty as a politician as there ever was. Wouldn't mind seeing him lose the next election. Though, Rhule and Sullivan and a few others have been known to strong arm people at the polls to get Thad his votes. Shit on legs, but small fish compared to what I'm after.
~ Zybala steps out of the car and walks past the line of people waiting to get in. An old man is watching the door and he allows Zybala to pass without an issue. They nod curtly at each other as the two thugs in line start complaining loudly. They step up to the old man with a "do you know who we are" attitude. The old man lays both of them out with two quick jabs. Zybala turns back when he hears the commotion and smiles at the outcome. Two less thugs for him to deal with. He goes to the Maître d' of the establishment and tells him to place a call to the police station to send a car to pick up the unconscious nobodies. Zybala then finds a table and watches the jazz band play. A polite cough behind him doesn't garner much attention. He just waves his hand. ~
Zybala:.No thanks, doll. I don't smoke.
Watts: And I ain't selling cigs, flat foot.
~ Zybala turns around and sees Diane Watts. The private eye flashes his best smile at the frowning woman. ~
Zybala: Hey dollface, how ya been?
Watts: Don'tcha give me that sweet talk, Mike. You only come in here when you want sumtin.
Zybala: Can't I stop by to see my two favorite gals in the Bronx? Besides, it's always nice to see old Ehud punch out a few mooks. I swear he lets me cut the line just to rile people up so he has an excuse to punch 'em.
Watts: Oh geez. Who'd he punch now?
Zybala: A coupla Thad's goons. Nobody that'll cause Alice trouble. I made a call for a wagon to pick 'em up. Let them spend a night in a cell to teach 'em to respect their elders. Care to sit?
~ Watts sits and motions for a server to bring them drinks. The pair wait until they're brought two whiskey on the rocks. Zybala give the lady a quarter before she moves on. Zybala offers a cheers, to which Watts clicks her glass against his. They sip as the music plays in the background. ~
Zybala: New band?
Watts: Not really. We hired them months ago. You'd know that if you stopped by more…
Zybala: What can I say? Time's been rough, kid. That's why I took a job from the commish.
~ Watts eyes Zybala suspiciously. ~
Watts: You back on the force?
Zybala: Nah. Just trying to help Tommy lock up a few guys or run them out of town. A few goons I think Alice wouldn't mind seeing out of the picture if my thinkins right….
~ He pulls the piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and slides it over to Watts. She looks at it, reading the names. Zybala continues as she reads. ~
Zybala: Look, I know I'm not your favorite right now. But I think your businesses would do great with a few of those names gone. Plus I think I can get them to flip on Biff, if not each other.
Watts: You're still after Biff, huh? Even though he got off free?
Zybala: We both know that Kenny was a patsy who took the fall. And we know that Alice has no love for Biff. So help a gumshoe out. Any idea where I can find those people?
Watts: Well, I'd ignore Scott Syren. He may have been a big time mobster, but he's way past his prime. The only reason he still hangs around is because people respect him. He doesn't have any real power left. The Rodriguez fellow is too hard to find. He disappeared a while back and while there are rumors of him coming back to run his gang, no one knows if it's true…. Ah, here's someone interesting.
Zybala: Who??
~ Watts turns the paper and points at a name. ~
Watts: Solomon Cain. He's been claiming to be the bastard of the rum smuggler Christian Cain.
Zybala: "The Outcast." I've had my share of run-ins with that old bastard when I was a cop. Tried busting up his operation all through prohibition. He stabbed me in the leg once. I thought his kid died years ago.
Watts: Solomon is claiming he's his other son. Both men have their own gangs and they've been going at it for months. Lots of bloodshed. Rumor has it that Bifford is inviting them to the docks tomorrow night for peace talks. He's getting a new shipment in immigrants to sell to the younger Cage for his whore houses. Biff wants Christian to sell his leftover booze to Solomon for the houses, and Biff will offer them both protection.
Zybala: Damn. What time tomorrow?
Watts: Not sure. Rumor is after ten..
Zybala: Thanks. With any luck, I can eliminate those three in one swoop. Here's looking at ya.
I finish my drink before leaving a dollar on the table. I head home to get some sleep and to think. Did Diane set my up or was she telling the truth? I'd like to think she's on the level, but with criminals it's hard to tell. I was the next morning with a hangover that a few aspirin help with. After eating breakfast, I call Dylan about the tip I got and then plan my attack. I go in my closet and pull out my trusty Winchester Model 12. I clean her and my revolver before loading them both. I pray I don't have to use them. Soon enough, 8 p.m. rolls around and I make my way to the docks. A few ships are docked for the night. I find my way on top of a shipping crate, out of sight, and wait.
The minutes feel like hours as the sun sets. 10 o'clock rolls around and several cars pull up. It seems Diane's intel was good as Bifford, and both Cains step out of their respective cars, with lackeys stepping out of the other cars. I barely recognize some; just some schmucks so low on the totem pole that I'm surprised that they're here. I recognize one with Solomon named Matt. Mostly because he always acts like a made-man. Poor putz doesn't realize he's only here as a meat shield in case shit goes south. The older Cain brings his muscle in the form of some joker that only goes by S.L. and Terry Marshall. I also recognize one of the squad that Bifford brought. Some oriental named Bobby Uchiha. That's interesting. He's just a bean counter for Biff's real estate with a yellow streak a mile wide. What's he doing here?
My question is soon answered when someone steps off one of the ships. He and Uchiha immediately start speaking Japanese. I only know the dialect because I served with some Japanese in The Great War. After a few moments, the boatman goes back on the ship, leaving an awkward silence among the three gangs. The silence is broken when the boatman ushers out at least twenty Oriental women of different ages. Bifford smiles and turns to the Cages, promising that if they all work together, they will rule the Bronx, maybe all of New York. I start thinking about my next move when a patrol car siren interrupts my thought process. Everyone grabs for their guns as the car stops and out walks Tommy Dylan! Why is that idiot here without backup!?! He better have fifty cars behind him and a paddywagon and …. Oh shit…..
The minutes feel like hours as the sun sets. 10 o'clock rolls around and several cars pull up. It seems Diane's intel was good as Bifford, and both Cains step out of their respective cars, with lackeys stepping out of the other cars. I barely recognize some; just some schmucks so low on the totem pole that I'm surprised that they're here. I recognize one with Solomon named Matt. Mostly because he always acts like a made-man. Poor putz doesn't realize he's only here as a meat shield in case shit goes south. The older Cain brings his muscle in the form of some joker that only goes by S.L. and Terry Marshall. I also recognize one of the squad that Bifford brought. Some oriental named Bobby Uchiha. That's interesting. He's just a bean counter for Biff's real estate with a yellow streak a mile wide. What's he doing here?
My question is soon answered when someone steps off one of the ships. He and Uchiha immediately start speaking Japanese. I only know the dialect because I served with some Japanese in The Great War. After a few moments, the boatman goes back on the ship, leaving an awkward silence among the three gangs. The silence is broken when the boatman ushers out at least twenty Oriental women of different ages. Bifford smiles and turns to the Cages, promising that if they all work together, they will rule the Bronx, maybe all of New York. I start thinking about my next move when a patrol car siren interrupts my thought process. Everyone grabs for their guns as the car stops and out walks Tommy Dylan! Why is that idiot here without backup!?! He better have fifty cars behind him and a paddywagon and …. Oh shit…..
: Zybala and the other mobsters stare in shock as he watches Bifford and Dylan hug! Biff explains that The Commissioner has been his inside man all along and helped put the blame on Kenny! Everyone is on edge as they don't trust the cop or each other. Biff tries to calm everyone down by mentioning how much cash they'll be making, which eases most. But the Cains are a powder keg. Zybala realizes this and decides to light that keg. He slowly pulls out his sidearm and takes aim at Matt, who's leaning on the dock railing. Zybala fires and Matt falls over the top of the railing and into the water below. This is the trigger to the keg. All three gangs start firing at each other as Dylan ducks behind a car and the asian women run back onto the safety of the boat. Bodies start dropping left and right, nameless thugs eliminating one another. Uchiha immediately jumps over the railing into the water screaming similarly to the Wilhelm Scream! S.L. and Marshall charge at Solomon only to be taken out by a hail of bullets. Soon, only Bifford, the Cains and Dylan remain left. Zybala quietly gets down from the crate and sneaks closer. ~
Solomon: This is all your fault, old man! You left me behind! You hate that your own son will be more powerful than you!
Christian: My ONLY son is already dead!!
Solomon: No, but you are.
I get close just in time to see Solomon shoot Christian in the gut. To the old man's credit, he doesn't fall. He starts walking towards Solomon and pulls a knife out of his pocket as Solomon's gun clicks empty. Solomon backs away and his back hits the railing. Christian stabs him in the chest and both men collapse over the railing. Biff looks down as Tommy comes out from hiding. I ready my gun.
Dylan: Well, nuts. This is a messy situation.
Bifford: Not at all. Just another gang scuffle for the department to clean up. I see it as my biggest competition out of the way. You keep making money and I rule the underworld.
~ Zybala steps out with a gun trained on Biff. He cocks it, surprising the two men. ~
Zybala: Or I could send you to the underworld and the streets will be cleaner than they've been in years.
Bifford: Oh look, the former cop who helped put Kenny away. Thomas, take care of this has-been.
I am shocked when I see Tommy raise his service pistol at me and fire! Pain explodes in my left arm as the bullet hits it. More of a graze, but still hurts like hell. I fall to the deck, playing dead. Tommy is too good of a shot to miss. He's got something up his sleeve. As Bifford turns to get in his car, Dylan shouts "NOW!" What looks to be the entire police force swarm Bifford, guns drawn! As one cop tries to cuff the fat man, Biff bites his neck, taking out the Adam's Apple! This causes the other cops to open fire! Biff struggles against the haul of bullets, even taking a few steps forward before falling to the dock, dead. Cops start checking the other bodies as Dylan helps me to my feet.
Dylan: You alright?
Zybala: I'll live. So, you were the inside man the whole time?
Dylan: Double agent. I knew that neither the mayor nor the governor would allow Biff's empire to be taken down while it lined they're pockets, so I had to do something. I'm sorry it cost you your job, but I had to play the long game.
Zybala: I'd probably do the same thing. Just lucky that they all took each other out and the good guys won.
Dylan: Yeah. And we could always use another good guy back on the force.
~ Dylan pulls a badge out of his pocket and holds it out to Zybala. ~
Dylan: What do you say??
I look at the badge for a moment before pocketing it. Dylan smiles until I grab him with my good arm and drag him to the railing. I throw him over the top and smile as he splashes in the water. The other cops look on in shock as I start laughing. I lean over and tell him that was for shooting me. He laughs too as he swims for a ladder. I call down to Dylan to meet me at the Nest for a drink when he dries off. I then walk away, being the last main player left standing.