Prologue "Big Trouble in Little Chinatown"

"The prosecution rests your honor", the attractive district prosecutor adjusted her glasses as she spoke, taking a courtesy look at the jurors for their reaction before returning to her desk. Harley Lancaster was not a particularly seasoned district prosecutor, but in her second year on the job she has had an impressive 70% conviction rate, a success rate that shames even some of the most seasoned lawyers.
"Thank you Mrs. Lancaster, Mr. Youngblood, please proceed with your closing arguments", the honorable judge Terrance Jackson, a 30 year veteran of the seat spoke with conviction and impressive stature.
"Thank you, your honor", young Alec Youngblood stood adjusting his tailored black suit as he approached the jurors with a smile on his face as if to say, let's just get this formality out of the way, clearly I've got this.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, you have heard the facts of this case, you have seen the evidence and the closing arguments of the district prosecutor, but as is often the case in any trial, the most important thing to pay attention to is not what was said and what was presented, but what was not shown and what is not said.", Alec spoke with a continued light demeanor looking at each juror intently one by one.
"You heard the prosecutors account of how my client, Mr. Barnes, beat a man to death with his bare hands outside of the popular nightclub Red No. 5, events described by eye witness accounts and collaborated by camera footage", his voice deepening and becoming more serious.
"Do we deny Mr. Barnes beat the victim into submission ultimatly leading to his death?", only a short pause for effect "No, we do not". "The prosecutors case is solely focused on this single fact, a man was beaten and he died and thus someone must be punished for it, but what they don't want you to hear, what they do not wish you to consider is why this happened", Alec approached the jurors bench placing his elbow casually on the bench, leaning his body in to get their full attention.
"Mr. Barnes is a security guard, a protector of the a private business with every right to keep its premise and its guests safe, it is his job, it is what he is paid to do, but more than even this is that on the most fundamental level Mr. Barnes, as do we all understand this is a duty we all share. The duty to keep each other safe, to look out for each other as a community, as human beings.", suddenly Alec stood, turning to the prosecutor while motioning with his hands to the benches behind their desks.
"Of course we feel for the victims family, but the truth is that Mr. Higgins, wasn't some innocent bystander who approached the Red No. 5 nightclub on the night of the June 15th with good intentions", Alec voices suddenly rising.
"He was in fact drunk, hostile, a member of a white supremacist group known as God is White, he approached Mr. Barnes, a black man doing his job of protecting his employers club and its patrons with racist slurs, threatening him and as we saw in the Camera footage and we heard from the eyewitnesses on cross examination was reaching for something in his belt when the fight began", Alec's voice now almost shouting.
"If Mr. Barnes was a police officer put in the same situation, there would be no charges levied against Mr. Barnes, there would be no murder trial and you can bet that their would be a court room full of supporters, instead of the empty seats you see here today", Alec motioning at the very empty seats on the side of the defense in the court room.
"But alas, Mr. Barnes is a black man, though trained and responsible for keeping us safe, he does not get extended the same courtesy and I ask you, why?"
"Do we not have the same right, the same social obligation to protect ourselves, our families, our friends and our businesses from violent, drunk white supremacists as we would expect the police to protect us?", Alec lets the question hang their for a moment.
"By the strict letter of the law the answer is no I'm afraid. By the strictest letter of the law, this man, my client should be tried, convicted, put away and forgotten. But how can we in good consciouns, condemn a man for doing the right thing, for protecting us in particular when a private company hires them for that specific purpose?", he let the question hang in the air for an excessively long time.
"The answer ladies and gentlemen, is that we shouldn't, we can't. Their is the law and then there's the spirit of that law and thankfully in this beautiful country we don't judge people like automatons under strict rule of law, we must use our hearts, we must use our compassion and we must use our humanity when we judge our peers because one day, maybe not tomorrow, next week or next month, but someday, it may be you on the stand defending yourself for doing the right thing, law or no law", Alec let another long silence stand and then it was time for the final act.
"The victim, Mr. Higgins was a criminal with a long violent history of domestic abuse and racism. If my defendant had not done what he did, we would be here having a murder trial levied against Mr. Higgins and my client would be in the ground. A family man, with no criminal record, not even so much as a parking ticket, by every measure that we have a good man. Help me preserve our society by sending a message loud and clear that, law or no law, we must all strive to be like Mr. Barnes here, and always do the right thing. Do this by proclaiming with a clear voice, Not Guilty!", Alec completed the words, standing still for a moment and turning to the judge. "Thank you, your honor".
"Thank you Mr. Youngblood, we will adjourn for a recess until tomorrow 1pm.", the judge ordered.
Alec Youngbloods phone had been buzzing in his suitcase throughout the entire proceedings, when the judge closed the session he instinctively opened up the suitcase to look to see who it was that had been calling him non-stop for the last two hours.
The phone lit up "BENNETT STEADMAN", Alec mouthed the words "shit" as he read them from his phone.
Quickly getting up, he moved out of the courtroom into the hall, hitting "call" on the phone.
"Nigga, I don't pay you to fucking ghost me", the attitude of Steadman was usually more refined, but he had a tendency to get very street when he is pissed.
"Sorry I was in court defending your bouncer against murder charges", Youngblood shot back knowing that Steadman respected strength.
"Ah shiat, how is that going", Steadman asked with no real concern in his voice.
"It's fine, I think he will be back at work inside of a week", Youngblood lowering his tone, knowing that there is a difference between strength and disrespect.
"Check it out, I need some information. A friend of mine was just arrested on some bullshit warrant. I want to know the exact charges and what evidence they have on him. His name is Leroy Park. Talk to your boy and send me what you got", Steadman never said please and thank you, nor were the transaction fee's ever discussed, but he paid handsomely and took care of his employees.
"I will look into it", Youngblood responded. The call ended their and then, Steadman also had a habit of not saying hello or good-bye.
Alec pulled out a second phone, a burner. A precaution he had grown accustomed to taking whenever dealing with certain handlers. Looking up "Blue Man" on the phone. His contact in the Chicago PD was usually fairly helpful.
The phone rang five times. "Chicago PD, this is officer Suzanne Mendez.", It was not who Alec expected, for a moment he was silent, apparently for too long for Suzanne's taste. "Hello, who is this", She demanded.
"Yes, sorry, I'm trying to get a hold of officer Jackson", Youngblood made it a point not to identify himself. "Mr. Jackson is not available, can I get your name and I can pass on the message", the officer responded.
Alec was suspicious, this was a private cell number, there would be no reason for Jackson to let anyone else answer it. Alec decided to answer a question with a question instead.
"Do you know when he might become available or how else I might be able to reach him", Youngblood asked hoping to get some clue. "I'm sorry sir, I can't give you any information until I know who you are", she responded.
Alec knew something was up, he hung up the phone. Though Jackson did not like being called at home for a wide range of reasons, using the burner Youngblood called him anyway. The phone rang six times, Alec was just about to hang up when a women answered.
"Hello?", her voice was soft and broken, even with the one and only word she had spoken Alec could tell that she was upset. "Hi, can I speak with Jay Jackson please", Alec said politely in his whitest voice possible.
The phone was silent, suddenly as if the women was walking away from the phone she could be heard crying and saying "I can't.. I just can't". Youngblood was about to hang up when another voice came on the line. "I'll take care of this Mrs. Owens", the voice said from a distance as the sound of the phone being picked up could be heard.
"Hello, this is Officer Suzanne Mendez of the Chicago PD, can I ask who is calling". It was the same women.
Youngblood hung up the phone. "What the hell", he said to himself.
On his drive home, he decided that the burner had to go. He crushed the phone in his limo and threw it out of the window on the freeway. At five O'Clock he turned on the mini tv in his limo to watch the news.
"Top story tonight. A Chicago PD officer was found dead this afternoon in Chinatown. Jay Jackson was a thirty year veteran on the force from Precinct 9 in downtown Chicago. Little information has been provided in the ongoing investigation but it has been confirmed that the police officers death is a suspected murder....
Youngblood watched the rest of the news story intently, though it was clear the reporter outside of sensationalizing the story for ratings had no additional information about the case.
Alec Youngblood poured himself a double scotch as he sat back in the comfort of his limo. He took a sip and pulled out another burner phone he had purchased earlier and just opened and charged. He dialed a number.
"Salvatore, who do we know in Chinatown?"