Hello and welcome to The Thinner Blue Line! If you're new, welcome in and I hope you enjoy! If you've read this before than I suggest reading through once more as I have made some substantial edits to chp 1 through 5. I hope the new additions and revisions will improve the quality of this little fic of mine!
-Enjoy!
Be careful who you choose for an enemy because that is who you become most like... - Friedrich Nietzche
Tuesday 22:30, January 23rd... John F. Kennedy Airport, New York City
"Special Agent Leonhardt?"
Annie Leonhardt's eyes drifted away from her phone and settled on the man addressing her. She nodded at him idly and he visibly relaxed his posture, obviously relieved to find her.
"Hello, I'm Special Agent Braun." The man introduced himself with a wide smile, "You can call me Reiner. Special Agent Dok sent me to pick you up."
Reiner reached down and picked up her briefcase, "I heard good things about you from your former office, an-"
He was interrupted by Annie when she impatiently snatched her briefcase out of his hand, "You're late, Special agent. I was supposed to be picked up two hours ago." She said, a scowl forming on her face.
"Yeah, sorry about that." Reiner said as his smile faltered and he suddenly looked sheepish, if it was possible for a six-foot tall, broad-shouldered man in a black suit to look sheepish. "My partner and I just got back from a stake-out; and traffic at this time is a bitch. Which by the way is why we need to get back to the office, Special Agent Dok would like to brief you personally."
Reiner started walking before he finished speaking, and fished out a smartphone from his pocket. Annie shifted the suitcase strap over her shoulder and followed, looking much more casual than her counterpart in her jeans and blue sweater. She hadn't felt the need to dress by regulation as she assumed that she would have a half-day to herself before reporting to her new SAIC*, however she had massively overslept and was forced to take a later flight, and to top off her bad first impression, most of her luggage had been lost upon arrival.
Thank god they let me take my service pistol with me. Perks of being FBI, I guess.
Night had fallen and airport was bustling with families and businessmen reading themselves for their late night flight. Annie felt discomforted by the sheer amount of people surrounding them, but Reiner's bulk cleared a path like an icebreaker and the much smaller Annie simply walked slightly behind him.
"Hey Bert, I found her." Reiner exclaimed suddenly, slightly startling Annie, "Are you at the car?"
A muffled voice answered back from his phone, and Annie couldn't even begin to make out what was being said thanks to the sound of the crowd.
"We'll be outside in a minute." Reiner answered, "What? Say that again, man. I didn't catch that."
He listened closely before turning back to her, "Do you have anymore luggage?"
She shook her head tersely in response.
Reiner smiled in relief and brought the phone back to his ear, "No, she travels light apparently." He said, "We're almost outside, I'll see you in a bit."
Two minutes later, the pair of them were standing in front of a white phone company van parked in the edge of the airport car park.
"What is this?" Annie deadpanned.
"I told you, we just got off surveillance duty." He patted the van fondly, "Yeah, Bert and I spend a lot of time in this baby. Hell, we even have a couch in there!"
Annie sighed, "Where's your partner? We need to get going."
"Sorry! I'm coming!" A raspy voice called out from behind them.
Annie turned and watched as an extremely tall and lanky man jogged up to them. He wore black slacks and a white dress shirt, which clung to his body due to the rivers of sweat pouring off him. His underarm holster slapping against his torso as he hurried over.
"Special Agent Leonhardt." Reiner clapped the man on shoulder, "This is my partner, Special Agent Bertholdt Hoover!"
"Please call me Bert." Bertholdt said, smiling around the cigarette in his mouth, "You OK with riding shotgun? The back of the van is a safety hazard right now, I… uh… kinda broke the screws holding the couch to the floor..."
"Fuck." Reiner groaned.
Tuesday 23:40, January 23rd… On the road to New York City FBI office
Rain streaked down the windshield while Bert swerved through the midnight traffic, speeding past cars and trucks with reflexes of gymnast. Annie gazed out the window, disinterestedly inspecting the dark outlines of the skyscrapers. She was trying to ignore the sounds of Reiner grunting from the back of the van. The large man was seated on the floor, a desk overflowing with computer monitors, recording equipment, and junk food on one side; and a large sofa on the other. His back was flat against the couch and he held it in place by bracing his legs against the opposite side of the truck, pinning the loose couch in place.
Honestly listening to the man's groans would have been amusing if not for the length of drive.
"Is it normal for Agent Dok to meet new agents this late?" Annie asked, pale blue eyes closing in exhasution.
"Yep, Agent Dok pretty much works exclusively at night." Bertholdt said, "He got sick of people whispering behind his back. You should get used to working graveyard shift too, Agent Leonhardt."
"Fine with me." She murmured.
Keeping pointless social interaction to a minimum sounds too good to be true. Maybe this won't be so bad.
"So, uh…" Bertholdt mumbled, "Who did you piss off to get yourself assigned to the Legion case?"
Annie glowered at him, "Excuse me?"
"Uh, sorry…" He glanced at her nervously, "Just trying to make conversation..."
"What Bert is trying to say."Reiner called out, "Is that the Legion case is basically a career graveyard."
Annie shifted uncomfortably in her seat to look back at him, but she wasn't quite able to see the man due to her small stature and him lying almost spread eagle on the ground against the couch. "What do you mean?"
"The Legion doesn't actually exist." Reiner declared.
"Reiner!" Bertholdt reprimanded, "We don't know that!"
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Annie demanded, suddenly very ill at ease.
Seems I spoke to soon.
Reiner pulled himself up so that he could see her in the rear-view mirror, "OK, so basically our SAIC has spent the past decade of his life trying to prove that a secret, multi-national, crime syndicate called 'The Legion' is responsible for every crime that goes down in the western world. Everything from credit frauds to smuggling chemical weapons in the Baltic's."
"Not every crime…" Bertholdt corrected, "But a sizable chunk of it is supposedly connected to them."
"Anyway." Reiner continued, "According to Dok, The Legion separates itself into hundreds of smaller gangs, spread all over the world, and those gangs go out and make heaps of money and then send a portion of that money up the command chain to the head honchos."
"They have a command chain?" Annie asked dubiously.
"Yeah, apparently these guys are more organized than our government." Reiner snorted, "Honestly I think our SAIC believes that they might be our government!"
Bertholdt snickered, "Let's not forget about the death squads that leave no evidence behind."
"Death squads?" Annie blinked in disbelief, "You mean like the death squads in Central America?"
"Worse, apparently. I think I heard Dok talk about how an entire police station in rural Russia disappeared over a weekend. Never to be found." Reiner was snickering like a madman now, and Bertholdt was smiling widely. "They basically have the boogieman working for them! The whole idea is ridiculous honestly."
"So our job is to uncover a organization that probably doesn't exist and is headed by an Agent that has spent over a decade investigating and so far has found fuck all. " Annie growled, her bored expression giving way to her trademark scowl, "Why the hell is the FBI funding this shit?"
Suddenly their lighthearted snickering died off and Reiner and Bertholdt gave each other uneasy looks in the rear-view mirror. It was obvious that they were thinking about how to word the answer to avoid angering their new co-worker.
"Well, when I said that this case is literally a career graveyard, I meant it." Reiner said.
"They assign it to agents that the brass want out of the way." Bertholdt sadly admitted, he paused for a moment as he drove to an off-ramp, "Because they can't legally fire said agent and no office in the country wants to work with them, they lump the agents into a case that has almost no funding and no support from the rest of the Bureau."
"Until the agent quits," Reiner snarled from the back, "With no benefits or pension."
"Reiner and I have worked the case for about a year now." Bertholdt admitted, he sent a sad sidelong glance at Annie, "You're the fourth agent we worked with since we got here."
The mood in the van turned much more oppressive as the three agents retreated into their own thoughts. Annie in particular was stunned, the idea that her years of service and undercover work would be for naught. Memories of violence and inhuman cruelty flashed in her mind, a gift of her life as an undercover agent. Then the moment that brought her here carved its way into her mind's eye.
Annie frantically pushed down on the blood-soaked cloth in her hands, trying desperately to slow the flow of crimson life-blood from the woman lying limply in the alley. Rainwater soaked Annie's clothing and hair, streaming down her face and into her eyes, blinding her.
"Medic! I need a FUCKING MEDIC HERE NOW!" Annie yelled over her shoulder, the alley walls illuminated by red and blue flashing lights. She could barely hear her own voice over the clashing of rain on the pavement and the crack of gunshots surrounding them.
A quiet, strangled cough came from the woman shaking in agony under her hands. Annie pushed harder on the bullet wound as more blood oozed from between her fingers and stained the blue uniform shirt deep carmine.
"An...nie…?" A weak, raspy voice cut into her thoughts, "Annie…what… ha...happened?"
The puddle Annie knelt in swirled with lifeblood as the dying woman twitched and spasmed in pain.
"Don't talk. You've been shot and the bullet is still inside you. Just focus on breathing." Annie instructed, miraculously able to keep her voice from shaking. "Focus on breathing and staying awake, I know you can do that Officer Carolina. I know you can bounce back from this!"
"I...got...shot?" Officer Carolina whispered, a look of concern appeared on her face, "Wha...Why?"
Annie felt a wave of guilt grab hold of her emotions and constrict around her heart. She almost choked as she felt the young police officer's hand weakly grasp at her arm.
"Please don't talk." Annie begged, her voice finally breaking. "I'm sorry, Mina. I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you."
"Agent Leonhardt? Hello, are you alright?" Bertholdt asked, staring at her with concern in his eyes.
Annie snapped out of the memory, quickly scanning her surroundings. The van had parked in the FIB office's indoor parking garage, Reiner had gotten out and was busy stretching out the kinks in his limbs. Besides a few black SUV's parked on the far side the garage, the place was empty.
Bertholdt gazed at the small blonde agent before sighing, "Look, Leonhardt. I know it seems like getting assigned to this case is the end, and an unfair one at that. But we swore an oath when we signed up, right?" Bertholdt brought his hand to his temple in a lazy salute. "Even if our assignment is a farce, we still catch criminals. We can still help people."
Annie stared back, her scowl never leaving her face, "I don't help people, Agent." She said, "My job is to find the worst people this city has offer and then pretend to be their friend until I hand them over to the judges."
Annie opened the car door, stepped out and slung her briefcase over her shoulder.
"Do you know the fastest way to gain a criminal's trust, agent?" She asked.
"No." Bertholdt answered, "I've never been undercover."
"You make them fear you." She said, and closed the door.
Tuesday 24:00, January 23rd… Warehouse district, the Docks
Mikasa carefully loaded bullets into another blocky, long magazine. At her feet lay a duffel bag, filled to burst with more magazines of various shape and size.
"We have enough ammunition, Mikasa?" Sasha asked, as she readjusted herself in the backseat.
Mikasa halted her preparations to take in her surroundings. She was sitting in the front of a stolen sedan, currently driving down a utility road to the warehouses. Sitting behind her was Sasha, dressed in black clothing and snacking on candy bar. Connie was sitting next to Sasha, also wearing black clothes and busy loading shells into his Mossberg 500 shotgun. He gave Mikasa a cocky smile when he noticed her bored expression watching him.
She looked both them over with a critical eye, making sure that they had brought the required gear and judging whether or not they were prepared for the upcoming fight. It was her obligation as lieutenant to make sure that every member of the 104th street gang was ready and willing to kill and die for each other.
They seem to be acceptably prepared. But I wish we had more firepower.
"We might need it." Mikasa explained, holding up the magazine in her hand, "We're not shooting up another drug deal here. Titans are reportedly much harder to kill than gangbangers."
"Don't worry, Mikasa." The driver cut in, slapping his gloved hand on the wheel, "Doesn't matter how tough those assholes are, we're not stopping until we empty each and every one of those mags into a Titan!"
Mikasa turned her attention back to loading her magazine, "Eren, there's over a thousand rounds of ammunition in this bag. The cops would be there before we could finish."
And the barrels of our weapons would melt.
She finished loading the last bullet then slid the magazine into her MAC-10 and locked the bolt back, "We have to do this quickly. Drive up, kill them, get the package, then get out."
Eren pulled out his Anaconda revolver and flicked the chamber out to check his bullet count. "Well this forty-four Magnum round will definitely make sure they don't get back up. Ymir said that she bought these from a big game hunter, special order for more tumble and tearing."
"Hope it was worth the money. Pull over here, I see a vantage point." Mikasa pointed at a mass of shipping containers, stacked at least four stories tall. They towered over the surrounding low warehouses and would be perfect perch for a sniper. The rain would make the climb treacherous and negatively impact visibility, but she trusted Sasha's abilities.
The car pulled over and Sasha reached into her sweater pocket to pull out a black balaclava. She pulled it over her face, cursing loudly in Russian as her reddish-brown hair got in the way. Connie chuckled lightly at his best friend's inconvenience.
"We're on frequency two, get set up and radio when you see the titans." Eren said, handing her a small walkie-talkie, "We'll pick you up from here when it's done. Good hunting!"
Sasha got out of the car and ran to the trunk, pulling it open and retrieving a scoped Model 700 rifle from inside. She then quietly closed the trunk and ran to the containers to begin her climb.
"You think it's smart to have her go alone?" Connie asked with concern as they pulled away to continue deeper in to the yard.
"Course, man. She's done harder shit than this when she was in the Baltic's." Eren accelerated down the street, leaving the shipping crates behind. "This probably seems like a Sunday stroll to her."
"There wasn't any motherfucking Titans in the Baltic's, Eren!" Connie protested, nervously fiddling with his holstered sidearm.
And there isn't going to be any here if we do this right.
"She'll be fine, Connie." Mikasa shushed him, "We're here. The warehouse is right there."
Eren turned the car and cruised down a side alley until they idled behind the warehouse.
He cut the engine. "We'll circle back on foot once they open up the front door. Surprise will be on our side. " He said, green eyes shining with concentration, "Remember what our client said, we gotta destroy the nape of their necks. Otherwise they're gonna keep getting up. We move as soon as our sniper sees them."
Mikasa and Connie nodded in understanding.
Minutes ticked by as they waited for Sasha to call in, making the three of them impatient and twitchy. Eren repeatedly flicked his revolver's safety on and off, producing a loud clicking sound that filled the car, almost covering the sound of water pounding on the car's roof. Mikasa sat almost perfectly still, her expression bored and uninterested, as she prepared herself mentally for the fight. She wondered what was taking the titans so long.
Suddenly Connie got an urge to fill the silence, "Wonder what the hell are titans anyway; I mean once somebody can survive a 12 gauge to the face they're not exactly human anymore, right?" He said, leaning back into his seat. Mikasa thought she detected a tremble in his voice, betraying his nervousness.
"I hear ya, man." Eren agreed, "Fuck, you'd think the shiteaters up in congress would have SWAT dudes kicking in doors left and right to weed those cocksuckers out. They can't keep covering up what's going down. Has any news station ran a story about titans yet?" He directed the question at his lieutenant.
Mikasa shook her head, "I had Jean pump one of his media contacts for info-"
Eren snorted at the mention of that cocky con-artist. The two of them have never seen eye-to-eye.
"-mation. Most of the stories get buried, unless there's a substantial amount of casualties." She said, "Then some government suits gets involved and cover it up. Blame the homegrown crazies. Probably trying to avoid a panic."
Connie leaned forward in between the front seats, "People are panicking anyway, when's the last time either of you saw anybody outside after dark?" He declared, "There was a mass-stabbing a few days ago. Some crazy motherfucker ran into a shop and stabbed six people before the cops blew him away!"
"Our client said that titans were responsible for the San Francisco bombings." Mikasa added quietly, "And the Baton Rouge shootings. Probably more."
"Body counts just going to keep rising." Eren said, his teeth gritted so hard that the words came out as a growl, "This shit's been happening since we were kids, Mikasa. Ten years of shootings, bombs, serial killings…"
You don't have to remind me, Eren.
Eren reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small ziploc bag filled with dull white crystals, then fished out two of them and placed them on the car's center console.
Mikasa, noticing what he was doing, deftly snatched them in her hand, "Eren! Now is not the time to get high! You got to get a handle on this before it kills you!" She said, her facade of calm slipping in concern for him.
"I'll take some uppers if I fucken' want!" Eren growled and grabbed Mikasa's arm, holding it with a vice-like grip, "You ain't my mom or my boss so step off an' hand over my goddamn crank!"
Mikasa flinched at Eren's anger and she felt a surge of guilt for playing the overprotective sibling again. She and Eren had been together ever since they were small children, she felt it was her responsibility to protect him. However, Eren was the leader of the 104th and she couldn't disobey his orders, even if they were flawed.
But still... I can't just sit here and let him get high before a mission! Impaired judgement does not help in a fight.
Seeing Mikasa hesitate, Eren held out his other hand, palm up, and a hint of warmth overshadowed the starved look in his eyes. "We can talk about this later." He said, "After we got back to the safe house, yeah?"
You mean like last time? I convinced you to throw out your stash but you just bought more the next day...
Mikasa broke eye contact and nodded, before haltingly dropping the meth into Eren's hand in defeat. He let go of her forearm and once again placed the crystals carefully on the console. He drew his switchblade and crushed the crystals with it's pommel before scooping a healthy amount onto the blade and, closing a side of his nose with one hand, he inhaled the powder.
"Oohh, fffuuuck…" He moaned, pinching his nose shut and shaking violently as the meth coursed through his system. Mikasa looked away, focusing instead on the deluge of rain drops sliding down the windshield.
A minute passed, as Eren sat draped onto his seat with a look of ecstasy on his face. Connie sat quietly in the back, his usual good humor gone.
Then Sasha's voice cut in through the walkie-talkie, "They are here." She reported, "Counting six, repeat six. One armed with a kalashnikov rifle, no other visible weapons."
Eren grabbed the walkie, "You're on overwatch." He ordered, as he opened the car door and began motioning to his companions. "Let's move!"
Mikasa pulled her mask on and made sure her red scarf was safely hidden behind the high collar of her jacket before grabbing her duffel bag and following after Eren. The cold air slammed into her, the early winter chill setting in.
The rain mercilessly pounded down on them as they jogged down the alley between two warehouses, the sound of their passage concealed by the crash of raindrops striking metal. Their weapons held ready, the three masked gangsters rounded the final corner. In front of them stood six men with their backs turned, too busy trying to break into a steel safe to notice the threat.
Mikasa's dark eyes snapped to her first target a split-second before her weapon barked out a burst of automatic fire. The 9mm hollow-point bullets slammed into the target, tearing through muscles and organs like a lightning-fast chainsaw. The target, a tall man holding the AK and wearing a out-of-state college hoodie, collapsed under assault and twitched feebly on the warehouse floor.
"WHAT THE F-?!" Another yelled, right before Eren's first bullet literally shredded his neck and lower jaw.
The third went down as Connie fired his shotgun into their head, sending teeth, blood, and brains flying across the room while the headless corpse groped the air for split second. It collapsed into a leaking heap.
Mikasa re-adjusted her fire, this time emptying her magazine into a tall man whose face was covered in tribal tattoos, before gracefully sliding behind a stack of crates for cover. Connie followed after firing a few shells, none of them hitting their targets but scaring the shit out of their enemies.
The two remaining men cowered, seemingly shell-shocked by the sudden onset of combat. One of them clumsily fumbled with a pistol in his waistband while the other sprinted towards the giant open warehouse door in a frantic bid to escape.
Eren was faster though. He stood in the open, shaking with manic energy and excitement as he smoothly brought his magnum to bear and fired. The .44 caliber round hit the running man with force of a runaway train, ripping the his leg in half at the mid-thigh. Eren's second round destroyed the screaming man's ribcage as he lay on the floor.
Mikasa ejected the spent mag and deftly reloaded, her movements so efficient and practiced, that the whole process was finished before the last foe could finish drawing his handgun. She calmly took aim and sent another burst through the man's chest and head, killing him.
"EAT SHIT AND DIE YOU TITAN FUCKS!" Eren yelled, fist pumping in the air in victory.
Mikasa stood up slowly, caution dictating her to be skeptical of their easy victory. Her dark eyes searched for any more foes as a ringing sense of danger still radiated throughout her skull.
That was too easy. Something's up.
She ignored Connie as he jogged to join in celebrating with Eren. Instead she walked cautiously towards the group of dead and dying men. The man with whom she shot first feebly spasmed and coughed as he desperately fought to breath with his perforated lungs.
Mikasa let the MAC-10 hang from it's one-point sling and dropped the duffel bag of supplies onto the floor, her eyes revealed no emotion as she examined her rapidly expiring enemy. The man's eyes shot open and fixated on her; full of tears and pleading with her for help. Mikasa ignored his gurgling pleas and simply examined the blood pooling around him.
Behind her Eren and Connie finished slapping each other on the back and started investigating the damaged safe; and just as Mikasa was about to go and join them, a realization stormed into her mind. She stood over the man, drew her knife, and roughly cut his hoodie down the middle, revealing the many weeping wounds she inflicted. Her victim raised his hand to reach out to her and she idly knocked it away with a lazy swat of her knife, while she analyzed the bullet wounds for any traces of rapid healing.
She found none, double checked to make sure the man's nape was still intact, and then stuck her gloved pointer and middle finger into the highest bullet hole. The man's eyes sealed shut in pain as she stretched the skin apart to see inside; the flesh inside was a soaked in a dark, sluggish flow of blood.
No evidence of mending, the bullet flowered and kept going. This man is going to die. He's no titan.
"Echo! Charlie!" She called to Eren and Connie, using phonetic letters to avoid using their names, "We have a problem here."
Eren ran over to her, magnum in hand, and did a double take when he saw Mikasa's fingers pulling apart a bullet wound. "What the fuck are you doing?" He demanded still riding the high of adrenaline and meth.
"Checking the wound." She answered plainly, "These guys weren't titans."
Eren's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before glaring at her, "What are you talking about?"
"They don't heal." She said, pulling her fingers out and wiping the blood digits off on his hoodie, "And one tried to run, our client said that real titans will continue to fight even when they lose limbs." She gestured to the six dead men around them, "They didn't exactly seem fearless or pain resistant to me."
Eren swore, his fists clenched in anger, "That motherfucker lied to us! He said there would be real, honest-to-god titans here, and all we get are these mooks."
"We can deal with the client later, Echo." Mikasa said, keeping her voice calm, "Let's get that safe open and focus on getting paid, alright?"
Behind them Connie finished opening the safe and searched inside. "Found the package!" He called out, holding a small leather briefcase up in his hand.
Mikasa sheathed her knife, "We should go before the cops get here, Echo." She took a step back from the dying man, then suddenly swung her leg up in high kick and slammed her heel into the man's forehead, shattering the back of his skull against the hard concrete with a wet crunch.
Eren nodded in agreement, holstering his magnum and scooped up the fallen AKM assault rifle in his other hand, "Our client needs to get his fucking facts straight, we've been looking for titans for months and he has the balls to lie-."
"Contact." Sasha's voice erupted from walkie-talkie clipped to Eren's belt, Mikasa froze when she heard the alarm in her voice. "Black van coming your way, 50 seconds ETA!"
Looks like these guys had backup ready.
"Charlie!" Eren shouted, his voice deepening as he sprang into command, "Close the warehouse gate and jam the lock! Mike, push those crates around the side door to use as cover!"
Mikasa and Connie ran to do as their leader ordered, while Eren pulled the walkie from his belt and said, "Sierra, hold your fire until half of them go through the side door; you'll be the first to fire, take the driver out first, copy?"
"Copy."
Thirty seconds later, Mikasa heard the sound of screeching brakes outside the now shut main doors. The three gangsters hid behind sturdy crates, waiting silently for their enemies to open the door.
But when the door was shouldered open, all three froze with horror at what came through.
The thing resembled a wax sculpture left too long in an oven, it's head too large for it's drooping body. It had no hair and in it's hand it held a long piece of rebar, stained red on both ends.
Mikasa felt her gut twist in disgust as a second titan lurched inside. This one had to duck get through the door as it would tower over any other man by a full head, and it's face was concealed by a mane of grey hair. Both of them wore nothing but torn jeans and seemed both malnourished and elephantine at once.
A third one started to enter but stopped. This one sported a long black beard and it's dark skin was surrounded by a thin veil of steam. It gazed around the warehouse dumbly before inhaling a mouthful of air.
"Blood." It wheezed loudly, "Spread out. Find. Kill!"
Eren covertly begun to shoulder his new AKM, sighting in on the bearded titan. Mikasa watched carefully as a look of absolute hate filled his intense turquoise eyes, she knew dark memories were haunting him now.
Crack!
From outside Sasha fired, the 7.62x51mm round pulverizing the driver's head before the slow minded titans could hear the sound of the shot.
"Now!" Eren yelled and squeezed the trigger, bathing the bearded titan in bullets as Mikasa and Connie began emptying their magazines into the other two.
Limbs, meat, bone, and blood flew through the air as the titans were butchered by their bullets and buckshot. The titan bodies flopped onto the ground, steam spilling out into the air. Outside Sasha killed the fourth and final titan just as their weapons clicked empty.
"Did we get 'em?" Connie asked, looking stupefied that everything had worked as planned.
Eren walked up to examine the spreading pool of gore and glared at the reeking piles before discarding the now-empty rifle, "I think so." He turned back to his friends, "That was easier than expec-WHA!"
Mikasa felt her blood run cold as she watched a titan seize Eren by his belt and pull him to floor. It's hand, missing two fingers, wrapped around Eren's neck like a vice. Mikasa and Connie froze in horror as the titan pulled itself on top of him; it's shattered hip-bones, gore-filled intestines, and destroyed legs dragging onto him like a macabre blanket.
Oh no no no no no!
"Hold on!" Mikasa shouted and lunged forward. She grabbed the titan around it's bloated torso and tried to pull it off Eren. The thing was much lighter than she thought it would be but it was also much stronger too. She braced her feet on either side and redoubled her attempt to tear it off of Eren, however keeping hold off a wriggling mass of killer flesh was no easy task at the best of times and doing it while struggling to maintain footing on a blood-slick floor makes it almost impossible.
"Move so I can shoot the fucker!" Connie yelled, drawing his sidearm and taking aim at the titan.
Mikasa almost panicked, "Don't! You might hit Eren!" She gasped, shifting her hold into a sleeper hold in a desperate bid to keep it's snapping, too-wide jaws from her adopted brother's face. She heard more movement, she shot a glance up and gaped as the bearded titan drunkenly pulled itself to it's feet. Missing both it's arms and most of it's innards; it slowly exhaled a cloud of steam and charged for her. "Shoot that one!" She ordered, hoping that Connie could hear her over the sound of the struggle.
Apparently he had as Mikasa heard five quick cracks as Connie blew out both of the rushing titan's knees, dropping it back to the floor. "I'll take care of it!" Connie declared.
Mikasa looked down and felt adrenaline pump through her veins as she watched Eren's eyes slowly roll back from lack of air, the titan's grip squeezing the life from him. Fear gave her body strength as she reversed her momentum, pushing the titan off Eren and pinned it to the floor. Holding one of its distended arms with her knee, Mikasa begun punching the monstrosity in it's dumbfounded, bloody face. It's other hand was still wrapped around Eren's neck but the change in position gave the man enough space to inhale a breath and rejoin the fight.
Just die!
His bloodshot, turquoise eyes snapped open and widened in a berserk rage. He twisted in it's grip to grab hold of the elbow, braced his hands, and inverted the joint. It's elbow broke with a wet snap. The titan roared in pain and fury as Eren wiggled out the now loose grip and helped Mikasa pin it to the floor.
Mikasa halted in her assault, grabbed the bottom of the titan's chin and forced it to tilt its head, "Shoot the nape!" She shouted, glancing furtively at Eren. Upon hearing his lieutenant's call, Eren pulled the revolver from his shoulder holster, shoved the muzzle to the titan's clavicle and pulled the trigger.
With a meaty pop! The titan's neck exploded like an offal filled water balloon; Mikasa flinched back as she felt the hot blood splash over her mask. She dropped the limp carcass and hastily went to check on Eren.
"Fuck, can you stand?" She swore, grabbing his forearm and pulling him to his feet, "Are you hurt? Can you move?"
"I'm fine for fuck's sake!" Eren snapped, his hand massaging his bruised throat. He let out a strained bark of laughter, "Looks like he wasn't lying after all."
"Mike, Echo!" Connie ran up to the duo, briefcase slung over his back and Mossberg in hand, "You guys Ok?"
"I'm fine, so is she." Eren said, his voice hoarse and gravelly, "Let's go. We're done here."
Wednesday 02:00, January 24th… Police Station, The Bronx
"Sir, can you hear me?"
Armin looked up, squinting his eyes as the bright lights from the station lobby. He struggled to make out the person in front of him. A loud ringing sound filled his ears and his stomach flipped upside down as nausea gripped his entire thin body, causing him to shake.
A hand fell on his shoulder and the same voice started talking again, "My name is Officer Freudenberg. You can call me Marlo. Do you need medical attention, sir?"
He shut his eyes and limply hung his head, and hugging his arms to himself, he mutely shook his head.
"Have you taken any drugs?"
Another head shake.
"Sir, can you give me your name?"
Armin tried to speak but the words stuck in his throat. He tried again, feeling out the syllables before a low rasp escaped his lips. His lungs ached and the back of his mouth overflowed with sickness and bitter fluid. He felt like utter shit and his brain refused to kick into gear.
It hurts when I talk.
"Sir, do have any ID?"
He looked up when the police officer asked that. Did he? He must have some kind of ID, right? Armin slowly stuck his hands into his jacket pockets, before pulling out a small, leather wallet and dumbly handing it to the cop.
"Armin Arlert, twenty five years of age." Marlo read off the driver's license into his radio, then said, "Mr. Arlert, I found you outside a condemned tenement building, soaked and huddled in front of the door. Can you explain why you were outside in the rain at this time of night, sir?"
The blond stared back at the cop, tried and failed to wet his lips before croaking out, "I live there."
"According to your license you live in Staten Island."
Not for a long time now, my friend.
He shook his head again, "Old house… Grandfather owned it."
The officer's radio beeped and Marlo quickly answered it, "Mr. Arlert, according to the database you were released from Oceanview correctional facility three weeks ago, is that correct?"
Armin acknowledged him blankly.
Officer Freudenberg nodded and handed back Armin's wallet. "Can you stay with your grandfather, Mr. Arlert?"
"No…" Armin murmured, sniffling a little as his nose dripped. "He died when I was eight."
"Oh." Marlo shifted uncomfortably, "Do you have any family or friends you could stay with?"
Wish I did, but I haven't talked to them in years.
"No." Armin tried to stand up but the blood rushed to his head as soon he leaned forward, forcing the cop to catch him before he swooned. "I'm fine, officer. Can I go?"
"Sir, you look like you need medical attention, and I really don't want you to sleep outside during a storm." Marlo declared, his face soft with genuine concern, "Now if you don't want to go to the hospital, I can let you sleep in our holding cell for the night."
Armin shivered at the thought spending another night outside in the cold and wet. But at the same time he was dubious at sleeping in a cell. He had spent enough time locked in a cage.
With the help of the cop, Armin shakily stood and made his way to the exit door. "Thank you, but I can stay at a hotel. Can I leave, officer?"
Marlo sighed and reluctantly let go of Armin's arm, giving him one more uneasy look before returning to his duties.
Armin shuffled out onto the street, pulling his dirty jacket tighter around his scrawny frame and shivering under the deluge of the storm. He hated being cold, as a kid he always froze and caught colds during New York's short but harsh winters, and now he couldn't help but think back to the days when he spent almost every Christmas and New year sick in his bed, waiting for his foster-siblings Eren and Mikasa to wake up and spend their holidays sitting on the edge of Armin's bed, listening intently to his grandfather read stories to the three of them.
The rain worsened as he wandered aimlessly away, tugging the hood of his jacket over his blond hair and shoved his shaking hands into his pockets, the cold sapping what little hope he had. He fought back tears as his emotions cruelly began to cannibalize themselves like a litter of starving rats.
Maybe I should go back, it was warm inside that sta-
"Hey, look out!"
Armin heard the shout a second before metal screeching filled his ears and a bright light blinded him, making him reflexively recoil.
Then pain flared throughout his body as he was roughly flung to asphalt, his head bouncing violently off the slick road. He curled into himself; forming a small, convulsing ball of bruised and battered flesh.
Oh god I think I can feel my ribs moving!
The thought came unbidden to his mind. He opened one bloodshot cerulean eye and tried desperately to seek out another person for help.
"Oh, fuck everything!" A gruff male voice, sporting a heavy new yorker accent, sounded from a nearby car. "I think we killed that bum!"
"Go and check, Connie!" A second voice, a feminine one, answered back. "Maybe he is still alive!"
Armin coughed loudly in an attempt to clear his lungs. He couldn't see the occupants from his position, the car's headlights painfully blinding him. He hoped they wouldn't leave him.
A third voice spoke up; emotionless and clear like a machine, "Connie, deal with it. We can't take chances right now."
"What the fuck, Lieutenant! We can't just kill him!"
"He's homeless. Odds are nobody is going to come searching for him. Dump him in the trunk, I'll deal with the semantics later." The pitiless voice washed over Armin; freezing him in place out of terror.
Who are these people?! I gotta say something, convince them somehow!
A door slammed and Armin could hear two steps of footsteps approach him, then he felt hands grab hold of his jacket and pull his pain-ridden body into sitting position. He could see one of them, a short but muscular man with a shaved head and a virgin Mary tattooed on the side of his neck.
The man tried to pull Armin to his feet but stopped when the small blond let out a loud whimper as he felt one of his ribs glide under his skin like a comb through hair.
"P...please." Armin whispered, weakly grabbing hold of the man's arm, "Just drop me at a hospital…"
A look of deep uncertainty and shame appeared on the man's face, "Sorry, pal. Orders are orders. You get it, right?"
He nodded to the person standing behind Armin and suddenly the only thing Armin could see was darkness as they pulled a cloth bag over his head and tied his wrists together with wire.
"Please!" Armin tried to struggle but the two people roughly hoisted him off the ground and carried him. The next thing he knew, his side exploded in pain as they dumped him inside the trunk and slammed it shut.
"You can't do thi...ack! " His yelling was broken off by another fit of agonizing coughing, "I didn't do anything to you! Please!"
Mikasa watched Connie and Sasha sit back in the car. The two of them looked at each other sadly before Connie turned the ignition and put the car into drive.
An oppressive silence filled the car as the four of them drove back to the 104th safehouse. Sasha worried her lip and stared at the dashboard in a quiet distress. Eren lay sleeping in the back of the car, slowly coming down from the meth induced rush. Sitting next to him, Mikasa gently checked Eren's neck for serious damage; the duffel bag of ammunition lay at her feet alongside the small briefcase for their client. As Sasha watched Mikasa show her more maternal side she tried to work up enough courage to voice her opinion to the terrifying lieutenant.
"Uh...Mikasa?" She asked, her accent getting more and more pronounced as her nervousness increased.
"Yes, Sasha?"
She licked her lips, shot a glance at Connie- who flashed her a thumbs up for encouragement, and said, "Would it not be easier to leave that man at the emergency room?"
"No. He's a loose end. And we just committed a mass murder, which would net us life at the least. Last thing we need is an injured witness with a grudge against us."
"He did not see any guns! Or blood! All we need is to bribe him and leave him at an emergency room!" Sasha declared, looking back at Mikasa pleadingly.
"I said no." She turned her grey-blue eyes and glared at Sasha, "He saw Connie's face. Do you want to trust his life to a homeless man he hit with a car?"
Sasha glanced at her best friend and then dejectedly shook her head.
Mikasa leaned forward and whispered softly into Sasha's ear, "I know it kills you to hurt those that don't deserve it; I don't take any pleasure in it either. But your family comes first. No. Matter. What. Understood?"
Sasha nodded, "Da, Mikasa. I understand."
"I promise he won't feel a thing." Mikasa said, giving Sasha a sad but sincere smile, "Now, we're almost home. You two go sanitize and get something to eat."
Sasha cheered instantly at the mention of food and as Connie parked the car inside the fenced backstreet serving the 'Wings of Freedom' bar and tavern, she jumped out of the car and ran to the back door of the bar. Connie followed behind, slinging Eren's passed out body over his shoulder and carrying him to the 104th safe house. The bar was closed tonight, which would give plenty of time for the exhausted gangsters to get rid of trace evidence and chow down on the dinner that Krista prepared for them.
The food will take their minds of this. I can have Ymir or one the grunts help me dispose of the body, no need to involve those two with this anymore.
Mikasa got out last and walked to the trunk, opened it and curiously gazed at her prisoner. He was short, only coming up to her collarbone, and looked malnourished at best. He lay still among the debris of the trunk, either passed out from the pain or too scared to react to her presence.
At least there won't be much to get rid of, I guess.
"Get up." She ordered. The man twitched feebly and tried to push himself upright before collapsing.
"I can't." He whispered, voice muffled from the sack covering his head. "My ribs… Please."
Instead of answering, Mikasa simply grabbed the man by his jacket and dragged him out off the trunk. She hesitated slightly when he cried out in pain but forced him to stand and began dragging him toward the garage door. There was plenty of plastic sheeting in there.
"I didn't see anything, I was never here! Please… just let me go!" He whimpered, flinching away from her as she grabbed his neck and guided his steps.
"Stop talking." She pushed the garage door open and shoved the man forward. "Don't move."
The man twitched and then said, "I'm good with numbers, I could help you! I'll be your bookie!"
Mikasa started laying out plastic sheeting on the floor. "Not interested."
The man shook harder, seemingly on the edge of breaking down into sobs, Mikasa could see wet spots where tears soaked through the cloth sack.
"I was valedictorian at my college, straight A student through high school; give me some time and I can learn a skill that will be useful to you!" He declared, "Please, I'll do whatever it takes! I don't have anywhere to go anyway so there's no conflict of interest if I work for you!"
Mikasa huffed in annoyance before striding over to him, "Do you want the hood on or off?"
The man stilled, confused. "Wha...What do you mean by that?"
Mikasa unsheathed her knife and pushed him unto his knees over the sheeting. "Do you want to me to take the bag off your head before I kill you. That's what I mean."
She listened idly as he started to hyperventilate, small hiccups sputtered from under the cloth as he tried to answer.
Just answer so we can get this over with, this isn't fun for me either.
"I..uh, hic, I…" He struggled and managed to finally squeak out, "No... H-h-hood."
She shrugged, stepped in front of him, and froze in absolute shock after she tugged the bag off of his head.
What the...
She definitely was not expecting to see her childhood friend's mop of golden hair and soft features underneath. Armin's eyes were tightly shut but she could still see the trials of moisture left behind from her friend's river of tears. Guilt smashed through her; her heart tighten in shame and horror when she realized that she was about to murder her foster-brother.
"Armin?!" She gasped, dropping the knife and kneeling down to his level, her hands grabbing his thin shoulders in a subconscious attempt to still his trembling.
Terrified cerulean eyes meet her concerned grey orbs, and they both expanded with surprise.
"Mi-mikasa?" He whispered, his sluggish and fear-addled brain struggling to cope a roaring torrent of emotions that now threatens to erupt from the pit of his stomach.
They stared at each other for a few more moments before Mikasa pulled the smaller blond into an agonizing hug, not realizing that she was concentrating pressure on his broken ribs.
"Mikasa!" He whimpered as black spots danced across his vision, distracting him momentarily before relaxing in Mikasa's embrace.
"Good... to see you again." He whispered, then fainted dead away.
Chapter one Revised on: 10/17/2017
SAIC*- Special Agent In Charge
Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan or it's characters. Nor do I own anything in New York City.
Hello there, and welcome to the first Attack on Titan fanfic I've ever written. Hopefully I managed to portray the characters more or less correctly here and entertain you guys for a little bit. Honestly this fic has been re-written about four to five times already, but I feel that I hit all the chapter 1 goals I set for myself. I honestly am a huge fan of Attack on Titan and particularly Armin and Annie are probably my favorite characters of all time, including movie and video game characters. The next chapter to this fic will be at least 2 to 3 months away at the time of this writing as I will be extremely busy with life stuff like moving. Thank you again for reading, and please leave a comment, critique, or question. I want to learn how to improve my writing style and the best way I found was from advice of other writers.