Hey Guys. Sorry about the code mis-function. This story and the next are only from Berry's POV because there isn't a lot I have to add to Oliver and Team Arrow's story arcs. I hope you like the story and don't forget to Read and Review. BTW Italicized means POV Character thoughts.
Starling City Police Headquarters was a wreck. Even through the pouring rain, Berry Allen could see the graffiti scarred walls. Her taxi stopped in front of the station house. She gathered her kit and ran into the building. The rain too heavy to take a closer look. Inside the Station house was almost worse than the outside. The cracked linoleum squeaked under her soaking shoes and the lights flickered. Up the weathered stairs and down two more chipped puke green halls to the Starling Police Crime Scene Unit.
There was almost no one in the lab expect for Sally Newman. Berry could see her bright orange hair and lanky frame from the door. Her blue CSU jacket hung over her chair back, clashing with her hair. The other woman sat at her minuscule corner desk. Berry ran up to the other woman and hugged her.
Sally stood up, straightening her clothes. "You sure you want to do this, Raspberry?"
Berry glared playfully at the older woman. Sally had been the one to call her with the details, "How long did we date?"
Sally held up her hands in surrender. "Fine, I always wondered what it was like to go home at five anyway."
Berry rolled her eyes at her ex. Starling CSUs were some of the most under-utilized in the country. They were there for the cameras, not the victims. Not that Sally cared. Passions came and went like the tides for her.
Berry grinned and threw on her own CSU jacket, "So where's the scene?"
Queens Co's Applied Sciences was a wreck. It was also the coolest crime scene she had ever worked. The doors were heavy honeycomb titanium that could withstand a tank. They were laying half-way into the warehouse bent like bad origami. Inside were things that she didn't think would exist for five or ten years. She googled a little, eyes wide.
"The other guys must've come in after that." The voice was professional baritone, probably a cop.
You think people who live in a city with their own freaking superhero would be more informed.
She piped up then, not wanting them to get too cemented in the idea that this was a crew job.
"Actually it was one guy."
She rounded the corner and saw an unlikely collection of people. Oliver Queen and a black man in a suit, a woman in a pretty purple dress, and cops. Lots of cops. A lanky figure stepped forward/ He was most likely the speaker. Big enough to produce that deep rumble with the stance and age lines of a veteran cop. This was someone who was used to people obeying him. But he was only a patrol officer. Odd. The cop stared at her. She extended her hand to him.
"Ah, sorry I'm late." She cleared her throat with a nervous laugh, "Well, actually my train was late."
The cop was glaring at her, nostrils flaring. It was such a look of paternal disappointment. She knew how she must look: A little girl with short flyaway hair and freckles, her gangly limbs sticking out of an oversized sweater. More than once cops had tried to arrest her for trespassing on a crime scene. Anxiety started roiling in her stomach. And with the anxiety comes the word vomit.
"The second one," She automatically corrected, "the first I missed. I've got this great traffic app, and" She bounced a little to stop babbling. "I'm here now, though."
"So. Great." The patrol officer asked, tone bored and eyes sharp and suspicious. "Who the Hell are you?"
"And do your parents know you're here?" Oliver Queen was not quite as impressive as she though he'd be. Maybe it was different when he was prowling in a club or something but he just looked kind of awkward and completely uncomfortable in a business suit and patient leather shoes.
She held up her little ID from CCPD. "I'm Berry Allen. I work with the Central City Crime Scene Unit."
The cop took it. "Basira?" he chocked a little on it, "That's not a real name."
Berry felt her mouth twitch but ignored him. She turned to the CEO and put on her biggest Nice-to-Meet-You-I'm-a-Professional smile. Joe always said that was enough to blind a person. She hoped it was enough to blind them to her lies.
"We're working on a case with some similar unexplained elements in Central City, so when the report of your robbery came over the wire, my captain sent me up here."
"And you think one guy, ripped through this door," Officer, Lance, jabbed a thumb at the titanium doors "Like it was tinfoil?"
She nodded vigorously. "One very strong guy, yeah."
They were giving her that look again: the mix of disbelief and laughter that everyone who never experienced the impossible gave her. When doubted, just bowl them over with facts. She held up her tablet for Mr. Queen.
"Uh, it takes about 1,250 foot pounds of torque to break someone's neck." She brought up the file she had gotten from Sally and held it out for the others to see. Mr. Queen peered at it. The guard's neck was a mass of barely recognizable bruises. "You see the marks on the guard's neck?"
She flicked a finger at the purple marks.
"The bruising pattern suggests the killer used only one hand." She motioned with her hand, coming at Mr. Queen's neck. He flinched back from her. Like he expected her to really try to strangle him "I'm guessing you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck."
"Hmm?" his tone did not match his face, "No. No Idea."
For a social chameleon, Mr. Queen was a really bad liar. Heck he was almost as bad as she was. She studied him. There had been stories, tattoos, scars that could only come from another person. Mr. Queen stared back at her. His gaze was flat and just as assessing.
Officer Lance broke the silence, "Uh, we're going to need a list of the entire inventory here to figure out exactly what was stolen.
Berry latched onto the question. This was getting weird. "Actually, I think I know what was stolen." She had noticed an open space on her way in. It was two small backwards hops away. "A centrifuge. An industrial centrifuge. Probably the Cord Enterprises 2BX 900. Maybe the six series."
"Both have a three column base." She pointed to the floor where three twisted blobs of metal stuck up, "Here, you can see the three sets of broken bolts where the thief just ripped it out of the ground."
She motioned like she was ripping the machine from the ground.
Lance scratched at his neck, "And what exactly is a centrifuge?"
Who doesn't know what a centrifuge was?
A blonde woman spoke up. She was dressed smartly with a pretty pink dress with a purple overcoat and bright black glasses. "It separates liquids. The centripetal acceleration causes denser substances to separate out along the radial direction. And lighter objects move to the top."
The officer didn't look like he actually understood what she had said. He drew her aside and spoke more quietly to her. Berry started mentally cataloging what she needed to do. There were footprints pressed into the cement floor. She'd collect the samples from them. The footprints themselves were pretty much useless unless they were unusual. These were size 10 work boots. Dust the doors for prints. Even if the killer wore gloves, the sharp edges on the door could have torn them. Something moved in the corner of her eye. The blonde was motioning for her. Berry turned to her.
"What did you say your name was again?"
"Berry. Allen." She was stuttered out.
"Felicity. Smoak." Her smile was magic, bright and warm as the sun.
They held the gaze until Oliver cleared his throat. Felicity went over to him. Berry turned her attention back to the scene. Lance was standing over her shoulder and staring at her tablet. She held in protectively. It had taken her months to get Singh to let her buy it. Out of her own pocket.
"Um, you can see the cracks heading towards the door." She pointed at the cracks, each one shaped perfectly like a size ten shoe.
"Footsteps. One guy." She stood proudly by the evidence.
Lance ignored her. "Anyway, it's just a theory."
"One backed by a lot of evidence." Berry pressed
"There has to be another explanation." The cop was talking more to himself than to her.
Berry ignored him. Lance and the other cops were determined to make this ordinary and she knew better than to press the issue. There was always another explanation, not the right one or even a logical one but they would use it anyway. She turned her back on them. Other techs were coming; she slid into their numbers without a word from them or her. There was an unspoken comradely among the CSU. It didn't matter if you were from Central City or Cape Town. Science was a universal language.