Maverick Casimiro

Chapter 1: The Detective's Reflection

A coyote sat in his office, a cloud of cigarette smoke enveloping him as he contemplated the city's dark underbelly. With a heavy sigh, he began to speak, his voice carrying a weary rasp.

"The streets of Chicago are no laughing matter. What appears tranquil by day transforms into a battleground under the moon's watchful gaze. As a detective, I've witnessed the descent from petty crimes to grisly atrocities. The rise of organized crime, especially during this wretched Great Depression, has tainted the very fabric of our fuckin' city."

He straightened in his chair, his gaze fixed on a photograph of the skyline.

"Allow me to introduce you to... Maverick Casimiro. Leader of the Pericolosamente Invano, the reptile gang that prowls our streets. This is my city, the place I've called home since childhood. Casimiro's influence runs deep, his reign of terror unyielding. His methods? Savage. His reputation? Notorious. Our encounters have been brief but charged, each exchange laden with unspoken threats."

A wry smirk tugged at coyote's lips as he reflected on Casimiro's intellect.

"I cannot deny his cunning. Yet, it's a tragedy to witness such brilliance used to sow chaos."

The coyote paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"And he should know better."

A crossfade transports us to a bank robbery crime scene, where the coyote stands amidst a team of officers, each one a testament to the city's resilience. Yellow tape fluttered in the breeze, marking the perimeter of the tragedy.

"This city is in fuckin' shambles," he muttered, his eyes scanning the scene for clues amidst scattered bills.

As he waded deeper into the chaos, his attention turned to Officer Keagen, a mountain ram who stood at attention.

"Officer Keagen," Rosaire greeted with a nod.

"Austin," the ram responded, saluting the detective.

"The usual heist?"

Keagen beckoned Officer Sarah, a golden retriever who presented evidence of Molotov cocktails.

"Molotovs?" Rosaire inquired, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Possibly Casimiro's handiwork," Keagen speculated, his gaze fixed on the remnants of destruction.

"Goddamn it," Austin muttered under his breath. "We'll leave no fuckin' stone unturned."

Astuin approached a frightened ragdoll cat, one of the survivors of the attack, seeking answers amidst the chaos.

"Do you recall the perpetrator?" the coyote asked gently, his voice a comforting presence amidst the turmoil.

"He... was a wolf," the cat hesitated, her voice trembling. "T-tall, with light grey fur a-and a menacing presence."

He jotted down the details on his notepad, his determination unwavering.

"Thank you, Ms...?," Rosaire acknowledged, offering a reassuring smile.

"Bain. Alexandria Bain."

He nodded, acknowledging Alexandria Bain's contribution. "Thank you for the information, Ms. Bain. We'll make sure to follow up on this."

Before Rosaire could delve further into his thoughts, Officer Moss, an iguana, approached him, seeking assistance with a witness.

"Officer Moss?" Rosaire inquired as Moss approached.

"I need your help with the fox. He seems to know more," Moss explained.

"Lead the way," Rosaire replied, following Moss to the other side of the bank where a snow fox sat with a pigeon. Austin looks at the fox's nametag.

"Mr... Delarus Collymore, I'm Detective Rosaire," Rosaire introduced himself. "Take your time, describe what you saw."

Delarus hesitated before recounting his experience, his voice quivering with fear.

"It was a wolf, a big one," Delarus began. "At least 6'7", wearing a black tank top and a balaclava. He had Molotov cocktails and threw two—one at us and one at the vault. I don't know what else happened but I heard a boom and f-flew backward... I-... I heard Alexandria scream and I wanted to help her but I almost died.." 

 The fox takes a deep breath, and the pigeon puts a wing around her friend's right shoulder, comforting him. 

 "Thank you, Stacy," he says as he looks over at the pigeon. "No problem," the pigeon somberly whispered with a shake in her voice. 

 Delarus speaks up again, now looking at Austin.

"He shouted something.. but.. that's all I remember."

As Delarus paused, Rosaire noted his distress. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said reassuringly. The coyote turns to the pigeon.

"Were there any customers here?", Austin asks the pigeon as he faces her. 

 "No, fortunately. I do remember what car the culprit (cough).. drove off in," Stacy says a tad more audibly. 

 "What model?"

"A Bugatti Type 40, red," Stacy coughed, pointing to the damaged front of the bank.

"Thank you," the coyote acknowledged, putting notes down on.

"I see. I know what happened. You were a part of a gang sabotage." 

 "What's a gang sabotage?", Stacy asks. 

 "A gang sabotage is a deliberate and coordinated act carried out by a criminal gang." 

 "So, what territory is this bank in then?", Delarus asks. 

"Casimiro's. He and the reptile gang have a lot in this whole city. He's the one that coordinates a lot when it comes to the crime that happens here but.. his gang is reptile only. Seeing a canine commit a crime isn't seen a lot."

Austin looks up to see that the officers wrapped up the scene, the coyote assured the witnesses, "My team and I will continue our investigation. You'll be safe with Officer Moss."

Once alone, Austin reviewed his notes, a sense of urgency creeping in. As he pondered the perpetrator's description, a movement caught his eye—a flicker of movement behind a nearby dumpster. He squinted, his gaze fixing on the shadowy figure lurking in the darkness. 

The coyote follows the shadow into a dark alleyway and sees him better: a tall reptile with glowing yellow eyes stares at Austin with sinister intent. Austin, being a coyote, sees clearly. His eyes widen in surprise.

"Maverick?"