Timeline: June 24, 1951, 9 PM
As the group hurried through the dimly lit streets, their footsteps echoed softly in the cool night air. The weight of their escape still hung heavily over them, but there was a palpable sense of relief as they put more distance between themselves and the chaos at the Chicago Outfit headquarters.
Gustav and Vivian walked hand-in-hand, their bond stronger than ever after surviving the ordeal. Despite the danger still looming over them, they found comfort in each other's presence, the shared trauma drawing them closer.
Loe, always pragmatic, glanced around to ensure no one was following them. "We've got to find a place to lay low," he said, his voice steady despite the tension. "Let's head to the private villa."
Mark, walking beside him, frowned at the suggestion. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "You know that villa belongs to the Chicago Outfit. We'll be walking right into their turf."
Loe shrugged, his expression unbothered. "Yeah, I know. But we don't have any other options. No safe houses, no real backup, and we've got to keep Gustav and Vivian safe. We checked the place before, and there's no eavesdropping gear or surveillance. It's as good a spot as we'll get right now."
Mindy, who had been walking quietly beside them, spoke up for the first time in a while. "Um..."
Loe turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
She hesitated for a moment before answering. "What about my place?" she suggested, her voice a little uncertain but hopeful.
Loe blinked, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. "You still have a place?" he asked, sounding both surprised and curious.
Mindy nodded, looking a little sheepish. "Yeah, well, it's not technically my house. I moved out of my parents' place a while ago, trying to be more independent. I've got an apartment in the city. It's not much, but it's mine." She paused, biting her lip before continuing. "Of course, I've been on the run from the Chicago Outfit since I found out what they were really up to, so I haven't been there in a while. But it's still there, and it's safe. I think."
Loe considered this, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I know you've got an apartment, But, no one's looking for you there?"
Mindy shook her head. "I doubt it. They probably think I've either fled the city or gone underground." She smiled weakly. "Besides, it's better than going straight into their villa."
Mark looked between them, then nodded in agreement. "She's got a point, Loe. Heading into their villa might be too risky. They'll expect us to lay low somewhere familiar to them. Mindy's place could be our best shot."
Loe sighed, realizing they didn't have the luxury of debating for long. "Alright, we'll go with Mindy's place." He turned to her. "Lead the way."
Mindy nodded and picked up the pace, guiding them through the streets toward her apartment. As they moved, Gustav and Vivian remained close, exchanging quiet words of comfort, while Loe and Mark kept vigilant, scanning for any signs of pursuit.
The night stretched on, and the tension of their escape slowly began to ease. But as they headed toward Mindy's apartment, they all knew that the real danger was far from over.
.......
As Logan walked through the dark, rain-soaked streets, his senses were on high alert. The sound of Bill Gregory's boots following him was growing increasingly irritating. Logan clenched his fists, trying to keep his frustration in check. Bill Gregory, with his sharp eyes and military posture, wasn't the type to back down easily. His persistence had been grating on Logan for the past few blocks.
"Stop following me, bub." Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous. He didn't even turn around; he didn't need to. He could hear Bill's steady steps behind him, feel the stubborn determination radiating from the man like heat from a fire.
Bill ignored the warning, his own frustration creeping into his voice. "I can't just stop, Logan. I've got guts, and I want to know who killed those people in the alley." His tone was firm, even as his mind buzzed with old memories of war and death. This wasn't just another mystery for Bill; it was personal. He'd seen too many people die to let something like this slide.
Logan sighed, stopping in his tracks. He turned slightly, just enough to give Bill a hard stare. "Look, bub, didn't I already tell you to drop it?" His voice carried a subtle growl, a warning that anyone else would've taken seriously.
But Bill Gregory wasn't just anyone else.
"I know you didn't kill them," Bill said, taking a step closer, his voice more insistent. "But you know who did, don't you? You've got information, Logan, and I'm not gonna let this slide until I get to the bottom of it."
Logan's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Bub, do your little play-cop routine somewhere else. I ain't the one you should be bothering." He stepped forward, getting in Bill's face, his towering presence casting a shadow over the former soldier. "And stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, before you regret it."
Bill stood his ground, unflinching. "I'm not here to play cop, Logan. I'm here because people are dead, and if you're not going to help me, I'll find out who did it myself." His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, a soldier's determination that wouldn't be swayed easily.
For a moment, the two men stood there, tension thick in the air between them. Logan, the grizzled loner with more secrets than he cared to admit, and Bill Gregory, the haunted soldier driven by a need for justice.
Logan shook his head, muttering under his breath. "You don't know what you're getting into, bub." He turned away, starting to walk again, his stride quick and deliberate. "Last warning. Stop following me, or you'll wish you had."
But Bill didn't move. "You can't keep running from this forever..."
As Logan disappeared into the shadows of the street, Bill stood there for a moment, watching him go. He knew Logan was hiding something, and he wasn't going to stop until he found out the truth.
"I'll see you again, Logan," Bill muttered, turning away and heading in the opposite direction. "You can count on it."
......
Chris Hilton, an eager 18-year-old, blinked against the soft morning light filtering through his bedroom window. Today felt special; the excitement thrummed through him like a steady heartbeat. He had plans to head to Chicago, where he would meet up with friends and evaluate the Chicago Outfit as a potential business partner.
As he stood up, stretching his arms overhead, he took a moment to appreciate the quiet of the early morning. The world outside was still waking up, and the air was filled with a fresh promise.
With a deep breath, Chris began his morning ritual. He clasped his hands together, bowing his head in prayer. "Thank you, Lord, for giving me another wonderful day." he murmured, feeling a sense of peace wash over him. The familiar routine grounded him, reminding him of the values his family had instilled in him.
After finishing his prayer, Chris took a moment to breathe deeply, savoring the calm before the day's adventures. "Let's get started." he said with determination, a smile breaking across his face as he moved to prepare for the day ahead.
First on his list was a refreshing shower. He stepped into the bathroom, letting the warm water wash over him, waking him fully from the remnants of sleep. The steam filled the air, and as he scrubbed away the night, he allowed himself to think about his plans. Meeting with the Chicago Outfit was a big deal, and he wanted to make a good impression.
Once he finished, Chris quickly toweled off and dressed in a crisp button-up shirt and comfortable jeans. He glanced in the mirror, smoothing his hair and checking that he looked presentable.
Next, it was time for breakfast. He made his way to the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted him. Chris poured himself a cup and set to work on a quick meal—scrambled eggs, toast, and a side of fruit.
As he ate, he reflected on his goals for the day. "This could be the start of something big," he thought, excitement bubbling within him. He wanted to impress his friends and show that he was serious about business.
Just then, his father, Conrad Hilton, appeared behind him.
"Father." Chris said, bowing slightly out of respect.
Conrad, one of the wealthiest men in the world, looked at his son with a mixture of pride and concern. "So you're heading to Chicago? You could stay at the private villa for a while and maybe head out this afternoon."
Chris hesitated, considering his father's offer. "Um, well, I need to see my friends. I'm really excited to see them, and besides, we still need to evaluate the Chicago Outfit to see if they're suited to be one of our partners."
Conrad sighed softly but managed a smile, appreciating Chris's ambition. He felt a pang of sadness, wishing for more time to bond with his son. He knew that his own commitments would keep him busy, perhaps leaving little room for the father-son moments he cherished.
Seeing the thoughtful look on Conrad's face, Chris quickly reassured him. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll be back. We'll have time to catch up, I promise."
Conrad nodded, pride swelling in his chest despite the bittersweet feeling of their brief separation. "Just be careful, Chris. The world out there is changing, and I want you to navigate it wisely."
"I will, Father. I've got this." Chris replied, determination shining in his eyes. With one last glance at his father, he stepped toward the door, ready to embark on his journey, both excited and aware of the weight of expectations resting on his shoulders.
........
Meanwhile, Michael Wilson sat at the breakfast table with his family—his father, Edward Wilson, the Executive Captain of the police force, and his mother, Emberly Wilson.
As Emberly observed her husband and son, she couldn't help but ask, "What's going on with you two? You both look so tired."
Michael glanced at his father, who returned the look, both of them silently agreeing to keep their secret. Michael didn't want his mother to discover that he was Spider-Man, nor did Edward want Emberly to know that their son was involved in dangerous missions.
Edward cleared his throat, crafting a smooth lie. "Um, darling, you know I've been showing Michael how our patrol works. It's all part of what I've been telling you about. I took him to the police station so he can learn what police do. After all, Michael wants to follow in my footsteps, right, son?" He laughed awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood.
Michael thought to himself, (Damn, Dad, that lie was so smooth I almost believed it for a second.)
"Yeah, yeah," Michael chimed in, trying to match his father's energy. "Dad was busy with his police duties, and I was just trying to keep up with everything he does." He forced a smile, hoping it would ease any lingering doubts in Emberly's mind.
Emberly studied them both for a moment, her expression softening. "I'm just glad you're spending time together. Just be careful out there, okay?"
To shift the focus away from his internal turmoil, Michael changed the topic. "Where is Mary?" he asked, inquiring about Maryrose Fletcher, his girlfriend, who was currently staying with them. Her aunt was away on summer vacation, and Mary had opted not to join her, feeling she still had unfinished business in New York. Meanwhile, her brother Mark was on his own vacation—more like a mission.
"Oh, Mary…" Emberly replied, her tone brightening at the mention of her son's girlfriend. "After making breakfast, she went to her room. She said she had something to do. She'll be down in a minute."
Michael glanced at his watch, then back at his parents. "I'll go check on her." he said, standing up from the table. As he made his way to the stairs, he could hear the faint sounds of Maryrose's voice coming through her closed door.
He knocked lightly before entering. "Hey, Mary, you in there?"
Maryrose looked up, her hands clasped in prayer as she knelt beside her bed. "Yeah, I'm here! Just taking a moment." she replied, a gentle smile breaking through her earlier tension.
Michael walked in and took a seat on the edge of her bed. "You know you can take a break, right? It's summer. Besides, I thought we could hang out today."
Maryrose sighed, glancing down. "I know, I just… I've got a lot on my mind, and I want to make sure I'm ready for what's ahead."
Michael studied her for a moment. "You've been really stressed lately. Is there something else going on?"
She hesitated, her expression shifting to one of uncertainty. "It's just… with everything happening in the city, I feel like I should be doing more. I don't want to just sit around while you and Mark are out there."
Michael felt a pang of guilt, knowing she was worried about him. "I appreciate that, but you need to take care of yourself too. You can't help anyone if you're running on empty."
Maryrose nodded slowly, her eyes softening. "I just wish I could contribute somehow."
"You are helping, just by being you. Let's do something fun today, okay? Maybe take a walk or grab some ice cream?" he suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
She smiled, the tension easing slightly. "That sounds nice. I'd like that."
Michael felt a surge of relief, glad to see her spirits lifting as they planned a day away from the worries that hung over them.
To be continue