#going deeper

The poll is still going, likely won’t be established until closer to the next part. The rest of the CoD Gangster AU.

Thankfully, you did end up getting to sleep. The next morning you’re still tired but you know you have to focus. Alex offers to give you a ride to whatever it is you need to do but as you’re waiting for him to get his boots on, you’re still wondering what that could be.

You have no leads on Nolan or where to start looking for him. There’s still that stupid key Ghost gave you but if you ask what it goes to, you might get caught. Tomorrow you have to go back in to the station, where you intend to get copies of the case file. You made sure Graves had it, and not only that, but he had it stored away where only he knew it would be.

Alex has his phone out and is calling some of his buddies on the force, getting as much information as he can. Even when you guys are getting breakfast he’s still talking and dialling more numbers. You’re inspecting the key almost the whole time, thinking and thinking. When was there a lock you couldn’t get into. There has to be something.

You think back to any time you’d been with Ghost and there was a lock nearby. Your mind has to dive deep, envisioning your surroundings as if there were locks everywhere, eliminating anything that wouldn’t be locked. No that will take too long, and your memory is good but not that good. You inspect the key instead.

Simple and metallic. It’s not a car key, there would be a symbol. Average sized, and definitely not a cheap one they use for locks on diaries and journals. You tried it on the doors at the safe house, no luck. The end is square shaped, with a four numbers cut into it. You try to search up the numbers to see if they have any significance. Maybe it was an important year, or a month and a day or…god this is hard.

“You know wha-oh sorry.” You say noticing Alex still on the phone. You wait until he done.

“You know what these numbers could be?” You ask, showing him the key. He takes it and looks it over thinking. Likely determining what the key was for too.

“Four numbers… who gave this to you?” Alex asks, still staring at the key. You keep thinking of things that have four numbers. Some addresses, time, dates, lock combos.

“Ghost. Hang on.” You take a note pad and start writing and counting while going through the alphabet. Alex lets you think for a bit, while you scribble names and numbers and start adding them. Maybe the numbers were related to a name, and then that would lead you to what ever the key is for.

“For someone who doesn’t want to be a cop you’re pretty good at this stuff.” Alex comments. You can’t argue with that.

“Dad and I did puzzles a lot.” You say. “Thank you for all of this.”

Alex looks up from the key, setting it down.

“I know we haven’t spent that long together, and holy shit I’m realizing how this is sounding in my head. No offence I don’t feel that way about you.” You say, starting to regret opening your mouth. Alex sits and listens, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “I appreciate you helping me, and going beyond that. You didn’t have to stay with me last night- don’t you take that out of context- but you did so I would be safe.”

Alex is snickering but he understands. “You’re not the first person who’s needed me to stay with them. Believe it or not Farah has come to my place more than once, refusing to go to hospital or not remembering to eat. Been worried about her so that night was good for me too.”

You snort and Alex starts giving you a hard time about it. You’d met Alex a few times before all of this, and he’d always been friendly and laid back. Made you feel comfortable in the uniform even if you felt like it didn’t fit. He’d come to pay his respects at your father’s funeral. At the reception afterwards he found you by yourself and made you laugh when you felt like all you could do was cry.

Wait. Your father. Holy shit no way.

“Can you drive me to my apartment?” You say quickly. Alex was caught off guard a little, but agrees.

Once you arrive you run up to the door, before Alex has a chance to ask if you want him to come in with you. You race up the stairs and get to your floor, rushing down the hallway. The keys fumble in your hands as you try to work fast. When you unlock the door you nearly force it open out of impatience. You shut the door and get to your room, opening your bedside table drawer. There it is. You take out the key, and check. This was it. This was the lead.

The number on the key was your father’s badge number. The key was your dad’s. You take both items with you back downstairs, but before that you check your fridge and pantry to dispose of anything else that’s expired. Thinking quickly you get your garbage together and take the bag out. That way you had a reason for being there.

You come back downstairs and thankfully Alex waited for you. You get back in the car with a bright look on your face.

“That’s a good sign. What you get?” He asks. You show him the badge. “The key is your father’s?”

“I think I know what it belongs to as well.” You say pulling the seatbelt on. You can’t help but be excited that you may have something. What it is you’re not entirely sure but it’s a start. Unfortunately, it’s in the same place you haven’t wanted to visit for a while.

Alex drives you home. Not the safe house, not your apartment. Your old house where you grew up, where your father raised you, where you learned about your father’s death… everything.

You still have the keys, but for the most part the place was old and untouched. After losing your father and joining the force, you had left. At first you would stay with Graves or another relative. Once you could live on your own, you never really came back. You wanted to move on from that night but it stays with you. Something kept you from ever selling the house. Good thing too.

You step inside and there’s a bit of ware. It’s enough to get Milena to try and evict you if only to repair it and resell it. You’re sure she wouldn’t bother with it though.

“So what are we looking for?” Alex asks. You look for your father’s office, knowing there is one. It was one of the few places he didn’t like you going into without him. The only place. Inside the office is an old desk, and a bookshelf on one wall. On the other were picture frames with photos of you and him, a couple of your mother in them, some just him in uniform, and a few of your sketches. There's no computer, you removed most valuables to dissuade robbers. In the corner just behind the desk was a filing cabinet, that needed a key. You hold the key in your palm and approach the cabinet. Anytime you poked your head into the office, he would shut the cabinet before you could look inside.

Alex stays in the doorway, checking his phone for any replies. As you put the key in the lock, you hesitate. Whatever was in here was clearly valuable, enough to the point your father left the key with Ghost. A key that Ghost only gave you yesterday. You don't have any other options. You turn the key.

With a deep breath you grip the handle of the drawer. Rip it like a bandage, come on. You wrench the drawer open, eyes shut. There's a band as the wheels hit the ends of the tracks. Alex looks up from his phone, watching you. You open your eyes and find... files.

Okay yeah, files in a filing cabinet, probably should have seen that coming. You were kind of half expecting there to be a gun inside, or... well you weren't sure what to expect. After all, you never expected to get to this point in your life, and yet here you are. Your shoulders slump a little, relaxing from you tensing with expectations. Alex comes up behind you and looks over your shoulder.

"Not sure what I was expecting." You admit, glancing back at him, and then looking at the files.

"Maybe there's something on Makarov." Alex suggests, as you start looking through the file names. Again, bringing down Makarov would be good, but your priority was the 141. Even if Makarov was put behind bars, it doesn't mean his influence would be cut off. A few files are thicker than others, but you notice the names. They were names of cops. Your father was a detective but not a chief, so having files on officers was a little odd, especially personal ones.

"These are other cops..." Alex says. He pulls out a random file reading off the name, and opening it behind you. "Oh!'

You turn to see him shut the file immediately and see a look of shock and regret on his face. He looks at the closed file and then back at you while you raise your brow. Is he blushing as well? You turn back to the cabinet and pull another file, opening it. Inside are documents a couple receipts... and some photos. Photos that spoke more than a thousand words. The photos were a little blurry but it was clear that someone was selling drugs to the name on the file. More than a few photos shared similar interactions. You put the file back and open another inside the cabinet, removing documents and photos. Damning ones.

Alex watches as you remove the names of the officers that had jumped you. You look over them at your father's desk, and find criminal records, more photo evidence with time stamps, and a couple of bank statements. You text Graves about the officers, and get a reply right away.

Y/N: These officers, are they at the station?

G: Not anymore. They were killed during the raid while undercover.

If you could interrogate them you might have been able to get them to confess something. You could still use this information to support your case but it wouldn't do much. Then Alex asks a question.

"Why did your dad have all this?" He asks. You stop for a moment. You were too caught up in the lead to question it. Now it weighed on your mind. You set the files aside and start pulling out more files, and open the other drawers as well. Alex even shows you the file he'd found and in it, were some very provocative photos. Each file was on someone, and had pieces of evidence that could send them away very easily. Yet many of them were still walking around today, with hardly a blemish on their record.

You collect the files on the dead officers, and set them in a pile. Right now you don’t want to think about it but the question is radiating in your mind so much you have to answer it. You move to the other drawers and see if there are more files. What you find, shocks you. There’s more files but these are on people you aren’t expecting. You find files on Graves, Alex, Laswell, and Charly… and Price, Kyle, Johnny, Simon all of them! You go through them and simply find receipts and photos but more surveillance than evidence. You check the timestamps, and text Graves to check a couple case files. You take a photo of one the pictures you find in Johnny’s file asking for a full sized one. You’ll delete it after.

Alex waits next to you patiently as he looks at his own file. You see a few photos of him and Farah and someone else. “Who is this?”

Alex looks closer at the photo and clears his throat. “Farah’s brother… he’s no longer with us.”

You get a reply and check the time stamp on the photo Graves sent, and the time stamp on the one you had in front of you. They were different. You delete the texts quickly as you realize what your dad had been doing all these years.

“My dad was corrupt.” You say aloud. “He was covering for the 141 and blackmailing cops to keep quiet. Holy shit.”

“He was finding the corruption.” Alex says.

“He was covering his own.” You argue.

“Y/n like it or not, the system isn’t clean. Neither are you, but everyone thinks you are right now.” Alex says. You realize what he’s getting at. It’s one thing to vandalize with art. It’s another to plant false evidence and create fake alibis.

“I have a lot of work to do. Not doing it here though.” You say. You gather all the files you need putting them in a box. Alex picks it up and takes it to his vehicle but you stop in the doorway. Once he has it in the trunk, he turns back and sees you still haven’t moved.

“Need a Minute?” He asks. You nod, without thinking about it. The key is safe in your pocket as you step back inside. You look around the halls and wonder if your father left anything else for you to find. When you go to his bed room, you expect to find a skeleton half slumped out of the wardrobe. You’re disappointed, but you stand there in the bedroom staring at the bed he once laid in. The one you would lay in with him, whether it was during a thunderstorm, or because he’d gotten injured or when you made him burnt breakfast. The room felt different looking at it now. Somehow it felt like a puzzle, something hiding under the bed or shoved in a closet.

You decide to check under the bed and you find something you were only allowed to look at, your father very strict when it came to fire arms. It’s in a box and it has an engraved design on the side. You open the box and see it. There’s a little extra inside, a letter. You tuck the letter away, and look at the gun. Engraved on the side is an arrow, one that he also had tattooed. Once said that sometimes the right path was as straight as an arrow, it’s whether you fire straight or the wind carries it that changes its course. Yeah he wasn’t the best at metaphors.

You fiddle with the end of your red scarf where you kept a small arrow pin. You have a path laid out before you but there so much wind you don’t know if it’s the right one. If it’s to reach your target though, you have to fire.