The Loud House - Wild Card

Chapter 5 - Wild Card

Lynn and George barreled down the streets near Lake Michigan, the police siren ablaze on their cruiser. It had already been forty minutes since Wild Card's message, and they were running out of time. Lynn's knee bounced anxiously as they drove. Sergeant Bently was at first reluctant to send her into a hostage situation, considering her inexperience, but due to the lack of time and the fact that Wild Card specifically told her to be there, she and George didn't wait for permission before they started traveling. While speaking to him over the radio, they were able to convince him to let her be there, but only if she followed Detective Peters' orders to the letter, as he was the one leading the Bianchi case.

They pulled up the warehouse in question. A police presence was already there, including S.W.A.T and paramedics. As they exited their cruiser, Detective Peters walked over to them. He was a tall, thin man with wiry gray hair, wearing a black suit. He had an air about him that indicated he had zero patience for nonsense, and a reputation to substantiate that impression.

"Alright, Loud," he said. "Since this freak wanted you here, that makes you the prime target. But I'm not gonna let you do anything to risk the hostage's life, so no more heroics like you pulled at the bank."

"Understood, sir," said Loud.

"After S.W.A.T has cleared the area, that's when you and Ramos will enter -"

"With respect, Detective," said George. "I think Loud needs to be the first one in."

"Out of the question," Said Peters. "It's too-"

"Sir, every second we spend arguing about this is a second that man doesn't have," Said George. "Wild Card was specific about Lynn, we need to do this right."

Peters thought for a moment. "All right," he said finally. "Get moving."

Lynn and George moved forward towards the warehouse doors. One of the S.W.A.T. members had a battering ram ready, waiting for orders. Lynn and George drew their firearms, nodding to the officer, who proceeded to beat down the door. Once it was down, Lynn and George raised their weapons and entered.

The warehouse was dark and silent. They went from room to room, but didn't find anyone. Only a few offices. After a few minutes of searching, Lynn entered into the main floor of the warehouse, coming to a halt. In the middle of the floor was a single man, strapped in a chair, with a bag over his face, illuminated by a single light over him. George cleared the room while Lynn ran over to the man.

"It's okay, Robert," she said. "You're safe -"

She removed the bag and gasped in surprise. "GEORGE!" She shouted.

George quickly ran towards her, stopping dead once he reached her and saw the man before him. "What the hell?" He said incredulously. The man before them was indeed dead, but the man wasn't Robert Houlihan.

Sitting in the chair with the words "Bad Luck" scrawled across his face was none other than Salvatore Bianchi.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Salvatore Bianchi was meeting in his penthouse office in downtown Royal Woods. This was the perfect place to conduct his business. A small hick town in eastern Michigan, out of the way from the prying eyes of his rivals and law enforcement. Here, he could establish himself as a model citizen and figure of the city. It was the perfect cover of hiding in plain sight.

But things started to go wrong. He had heard about several of his businesses, both legitimate and otherwise, being ripped off by some freak in a mask. As soon as he appeared, he just as quickly vanished into thin air, so his men weren't able to get a bead on him. Anyone who did know about this "Wild Card" was too frightened to speak about him, even with the proper persuasion. One enforcer even tied an informant to a chair for 16 hours, pulling teeth and beating him senseless, but the informan never budged on the identity of Wild Card. In fact, he point-blank told them that whatever they did to him, he would do far, far worse.