Previously on District X: Izzy Ortega is the 11th Precinct’s finest, or at least he was until his partner betrayed him. Now, in the midst of financial difficulties and marriage woes, his distrust is threatening to taint his second chance when Detective Tom Corsi is assigned to him. Meanwhile, Armena Ortega is drifting away from her husband and feeling increasingly isolated. Kucharsky’s betrayal cost Ortega the case of a lifetime and Chief of Police Esposito is unwilling to reopen the “tampered” case of Zapruder and Kaufman. Tabitha Smith – the former X-Man Meltdown – is down and out but she’s an asset to Ortega and Corsi when they send her into Filthy Frankie’s organisation. Throwing her into danger, Meltdown sinks deeper into the criminal underworld as Lily Goode, the living a, is forced to join her. Raped and murdered, Deadgirl struggled to find answers behind her reanimation. Ortega promised to avenge her by destroying Zapruder but he failed. Zapruder escaped as Meltdown ran and Izzy’s control crumbled.

Rosewood Avenue

Armena Ortega cringed. It was a loud screech that whistled through the old house. Chamayra and Esteban stirred but neither woke, which surprised her. Claustrophobia had kept her eldest awake since the transformation that had left him unstable. Gravity meant little as far as telekinesis was involved. Armena had only ever wanted to protect and guide her children but she now felt as though she had failed. It was hard to offer them the attention that they lacked from their father but with Esteban – as a mutant – she would have expected a deeper understanding.

Chamayra lived in fear. Her brother had been tormented, changed by his experience. Formerly an exuberant young boy, he was now quiet and isolated. They had once played and even fought but things were different. Esteban holed himself in his room, painting over the walls. It was nothing overly artistic but Armena couldn’t bring herself to repaint the walls. She couldn’t take his only release from him. Armena would have loved the opportunity to speak to Izzy about this, about the traumas of their children but that wasn’t possible.

Detective Ortega flounced into the bed at 5am and was gone again by 8am on most mornings. Armena was woken by him on every occasion but she just lay there until he drifted off to sleep. His snores would soothe her as she watched him, remembering the days gone by when she had been happy. Back when they had no concerns but looking after their young family and Izzy’s job wasn’t a twenty-four hour ordeal that they had inflicted upon their lives. Armena wished things were the same back then, but she understood the realities of the situation. Life was never quite what she had planned, but she had made do so far and she continued to do so.

Another loud creak snapped her back to consciousness.

“Izzy,” she growled as she moved carefully down the hallway. No matter how many times she asked him to fix things around the house, he failed to do it. Armena rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, even his days off where spent at the precinct.

Her pale peach nightdress flitted around her knees as she descended the staircase. There was a subtle chill in the house, the heating had jacked three days ago but she was waiting on their wages to fix it. Money was tight but she had never lived an affluent lifestyle so she was sure she was no different than any other family. 11th Precinct, “Mutant Town”, was the subject of much discrimination and hate crime. Armena knew it wasn’t the best place to raise her children but there was a certain homeliness and security that the neighbourhood offered. Armena could overlook the money troubles and the isolation that filled her marriage but the gangs and attacks couldn’t be ignored.

Fists crashed into the mahogany door as she reached the bottom of the steps. Instinctively, Armena raised her defences before exhaling. People knocking the door at an ungodly hour was nothing unfamiliar, Kucharsky had had no sense of propriety. Eying the looking glass, she noticed a second generation Cuban immigrant who had once been exotically enticing but was nothing more than weary now.

Pulling the door open revealed a petite young woman, brunette waves bounced across the shoulders of her tailored cream suit. Her expression was wide-eyed and youthful; Armena was instantly drawn to her with the same maternal instinct that she saved for her children. The unfamiliar woman was like Bambi before the hardships of life had caused him to mature. She recollected the movie fondly and the comparison was much in the same vein. Offering a smile, she waited for a response.

“So sorry to disturb you this early, but I was sent straight over from county,” she began in a high-pitched tone. “My name’s Hanna Levy. I’m a social worker for the New York City area...”

“You must be here for my husband,” Armena replied to the youth before turning to the stairwell. “Izzy...!”

Her brows furrowed, the woman spoke again. “Sorry, I’m not here for your husband, Mrs Ortega. I’m here to see you in relations to one of your students. Sonny Bean has been filed as a missing person.”

IZZY ORTEGA	TOM CORSI	ARMENA ORTEGA	HANNA LEVY
SAINT ANNA	DEAD GIRL	DOCTOR MURPHY	RANDOLPH ESPOSITO

11th Precinct NYPD

Corsi was uncomfortable to be so far beneath the precinct. It reminded him of travelling beneath the earth which brought all sorts of natural disasters to the forefront of his mind. Claustrophobia wasn’t a complaint he had, but the grimness of the 11th Precinct Morgue left him with a peculiar sensation running down his spine. Corsi had once been a regular Caucasian construction worker but – caught in the conflict of the X-Men – he had been transformed into the supernatural being of Native American origin. No longer having a family was his greatest curse.

Powers had taken time to get used to but he had managed too, he had even fallen for a pretty young nurse, Sharon Friedlander. His heart had been broken and now he was enamoured with another pretty – but decidedly more forceful – nurse by the name of Anna Cavanaugh. He was the kind of man that never really learned from his mistakes but suffered them repeatedly. Corsi had once been honourable in his brutishness but now he found that he was responsible for the absence of Tabitha Smith – she had run away from what he had put her through.

Anna now stood behind him, her arms draped around the increasingly hostile Lily Goode – a young woman who had been murdered by Zippermouth but then returned to life. Anna and Lily differed on a human level, more so than just their personalities. Anna’s smoky, exotic features where representative of the Argentinean descendents she had once known and lost. Dark swaths of hair hid her delicate features from the sight of prying eyes. Unwanted attention was easily deflected through icy, independent and stubborn attitude. Lily was more fragile, her hands wrapped around her exposed shoulders, and her brown curls had turned into a pale grey since her death. She was doe-eyed and lost with a curt curl to her lip.

“Can I help you or are you planning to stand in my morgue aimlessly all day?”

Doctor Murphy wasted no time in making her way towards them from the off-shoot that led to her personal office. She had come in to offer a slight reprieve to Doctor Santiago – the former pathologist at the precinct – as she struggled with his own health. Santiago had been a man that Corsi would have desired for such a sensitive case but Murphy’s credentials spoke well of her. She was a former trauma surgeon who had spent two separate tours in Afghanistan and a third in Baghdad. Her eyes cloudily displayed the horrors she had survived, Corsi felt comfortable around her.

“Doctor Murphy,” he said with a smile as he offered his hand. “I’m Detective Thomas Corsi, a recent transfer into this precinct, and I was wondering if I could perhaps get you to look at a peculiar...situation.”

“The pale one,” Murphy nodded her head towards to Lily, ignoring his friendly gesture. Dirty blonde hair slipped around her high cheek boned face and long face. Excitement seemed clear in her voice but her face continued to look bored – implying they were a nuisance on her time. “I’ll admit she certainly is something to ponder. Lacerations to the throat which have been dressed, discoloration of the skin and hair and that’s before I even mention the necrosis of the skin.”

Her eyes danced.

“What were the circumstances?”

Anna stepped forward. “I dressed the wounds, Doctor Murphy. I’m a nurse at St. Augustine’s, or I will be when it’s pieced back together. I stitched the lacerations to the throat and expected it to heal but the skin and blood have yet to react in a normal manner. She’s not bleeding but she’s not clotting either.”

Murphy nodded. “And the necrosis on her arms and lips?”

“Formed freshly overnight,” the nurse replied. “It’s almost like the process starts anew every time she sleeps but gradually wears off.”

“Why did you come to me?” enquired the pathologist.

“I looked into your history, Doctor, and I wanted the best for Lily. We’ve already missed enough opportunities to right this wrong,” Corsi answered. “I wanted to at least be able to understand the goings on of this body.”

Doctor Murphy didn’t look unnerved by his confession but she did appear dissatisfied. She had been an operational surgeon in the field, and she had never known less than her patient or her opponent. This was true even in the confines of the morgue. Her mind was able to discern a life from a few simple pages in a file, and she made a mental note to learn of the proactive detective. Her mouth was slightly ajar as if she were considering the offer before her.

She faced Lily. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive but could you hop on the slab.”

Rosewood Avenue

“Can I ask you to explain what kind of child Sonny was, or the company that he kept?” Hanna murmured as she drummed her pen against the perfectly white notebook.

Armena wasn’t sure how she should respond to the question. Behind the facade of naivete and innocence it was clear that Hanna viewed her as just another potential abductor – a concept that was in itself absurb. Teachers had done stuff in the past and the young woman was just doing her job by searching all available angles. This portfolio seemed to be a reason to trap her. Armena supposed she should be thankful that the social services were so thorough; she would appreciate it had the child in question been Esteban or Chamayra. She shut her eyes, struggling to remember Sonny Bean in the weeks and days before he disappeared.

Izzy disturbed them as he stumbled into the kitchen for his coffee. His eyes instantly narrowed as he surveyed the papers on the table. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m just speaking to your wife and would like to continue in private,” Hanna replied briskly. Detective Ortega’s reputation and foolishness from the closed Zapruder case had been much talked about in County.

“You don’t have to get involved Armena.”

“Izzy...”

“This case, what does it involve? Are you questioning my wife for something?” He was protective and always had been when she needed him. Armena remembered the Izzy she fell in love with, but she also wondered if he would be so concerned had it not involved work or a potential case.

“Izzy,” warned his angered wife. “I have told Miss Levy that I would speak to her and I intend to help her on this case. If I can aide her in anyway, I intend to do it.”

Ortega was surprised at her abruptness as he reached for his jacket. “Your full name Miss Levy.”

“Hanna Leah Levy.”

He nodded. “I’ll be checking your credentials.”

Hanna flipped open her badge and held it for him to see. “No need, sir. I have them right here. I’m with the social services and you’re currently obstructing an investigation. You can allow me to question your wife here or we can go elsewhere but I suggest you step out before I force you out.”

“I’m an officer of the law...”

“As am I, sir.”

Ortega had never been flustered in such a way before. He recognised the challenge that Levy would represent should he intercede. In lieu of his recent mistakes and the bad reputation that he had brought onto the 11th Precinct, he couldn’t afford for her to go back to County and enforce an order against him. His mind silently accepted the war had begun – he would not lie when his wife was being questioned for some mysterious case. Social services meant a child was involved and that could cost Armena her career, he had to get involved. Money had never been needed more.

Izzy left.

“My husband is just concerned. He’s been a little on edge since Esteban’s…” Armena paused. ”Transformation.”

“You don’t need to apologise for your husband. It’s hard to understand that social services aren’t the bad guys. People hear those two words and expect us to swoop in with the blame and take away their children. You passed your risk evaluation after Esteban’s mutation and you have nothing to worry about,” it assured the older woman to hear the words. “I’m here in relation to Sonny and any information you can give me, big or small, would be greatly appreciated.”

Armena nodded. “He was a friend of Esteban’s but Esteban has been so secluded that they drifted apart. Sonny was a year older than my other students. His mutation had left him absent from school for much of the previous year so he had to redo my classes. He was a pleasant boy; I don’t understand what could have happened to him. This is so surreal. It seems like only yesterday he was playing in our lounge.”

“One way or another, I’ll get to the bottom of this, Mrs Ortega.”

WildKat Klub

Lily Goode has stood right there and blamed him for his failures. He blamed himself. Zapruder has been a major opportunity and most likely one that wouldn’t present itself to him again. He could only hope that he would someday be able to right his wrongs. Lily still had the chance of success – Corsi had made her his own personal mission which had further bridged the gap between the two partners.

Ortega had hated being forced into a partnership with Corsi, who had been new to the precinct and the occupation of a detective, but he hated the loneliness he now felt. Bitter isolation didn’t suit the weary Cuban-American.

Standing amidst the rubble of the once great WildKat Klub gave him goose bumps. Women had sold themselves and lost their dignity between these walls and he had forced that onto Tabby Smith. Armena would be disgusted had he know the true ins and outs of the case that had brought the spotlight firmly onto him. He hated himself for what he had done. Ortega was a realist and knew that nothing could be changed now, so he had to move on with his life and attempt a second shot.

His eyes darted to his watch.

“You’re late,” murmured the voice from behind him. “I suppose that’s not unexpected. I assumed you would be here. Corsi tells me you’ve been spending quite a lot of time staring at this decrepit old building. It won’t help her and until I can fix things back at the precinct, her case is closed.”

“I fuck up and she suffers,” Ortega mused. “It hardly seems fair.”

Esposito coughed as he moved further into the clouds of dust that floated around in the murky light. His age was catching up on him. “You continue to blame yourself, son, and eventually you’ll believe it’s all your fault. It was an unreal expectation that you were going to bring down Mutant Town’s criminal underworld with one case. It was a month’s worth of evidence and that’s not enough. You need to hold out and don’t let your passion get to you.”

Ortega shrugged.

“I comfort you as a friend, son. As a boss, I’m warning you. If you step out of line again then I will fire you on the spot. I don’t need the hindrance of a vigilante. I don’t work with heroes, boy. Just with regular Joes and that’s all I need. I need you and Corsi back on par. I have you moping around an abandoned strip club and him abusing tax payers dollars and my pathologist’s time. What will it take to get you boys back on track?”

Ortega cocked a brow. “What do you know of Hanna Levy?”

“She’s a loan from County. I believe she’s got an investigation in the area. Strictly social services, she’s not a member of my staff really but she’s using the precinct as a base of operations,” the Chief of Police informed him.

“Who have you put on the case?”

“Mathers and Lund have been assigned to her. Why?”

“That’s what it’ll take. Assign that case to Corsi and I and I’ll shelf all of my interests in Zapruder and Kaufman,” Izzy bargained. “I won’t so much as look in their direction until you say that I can. I need a new project. Something that’ll get me out from behind the desk and I think this could be it. I don’t care what the case itself is, I just want to be on it. I can get Corsi on board.”

“Done.”

Esposito turned to leave.