Authors note: The story that inspired me to write this can be found here ( s/10790872/1/Let-Rise-a-New-Alicorn) and I'd strongly recommend reading it first. The author is LoverofChrist, and she's being generous enough to allow me to post a story that uses a lot of elements from her story, including characters.
Four Echo Niner
The officers of the Mount Christopher Police Department prided themselves on being on the very cutting-edge of modern crime fighting, and Officer Samuel Ford was no exception. One glance at his uniform, and it was clear that this was a true twenty-first century lawmen. Gone were the spick and span dress uniforms of old, their place taken by utilitarian uniforms designed from the ground up to bear the abuses of police work.
Officer Ford, call-sign Four Echo Niner, was dressed in navy blue Taclite Pro cargo pants and a black polo, his chest adorned with a ChromaFlex badge and embroidery of his last name. A Level IIIA ballistic vest hugged his torso beneath his polo, and he carried an MCPD-issue Generation Four Glock 17 with three seventeen-round magazines. A intensely-bright LED flashlight, pepper spray, an expanding baton, two sets of handcuffs, an M26 Taser, and a Motorola APX 7000L radio were all jammed onto his duty belt, and an unobtrusive GPS was securely attached to his wrist. He drove a black-and-white Dodge Charger outfitted with a state-of-the-art Whelen lighting systems, a Federal Signal Smart Siren, and a Panasonic Mobile Data Terminal.
Any casual observer would declare the MCPD more than ready to perform any policing duties, so it was both infuriating and embarrassing for the entire force that a simple matter like a missing person case was causing them so much trouble.
The particular case was the disappearance of Tara Swift; a Mount Christopher resident whose house had recently burned to the ground. Fire investigators had discovered nothing that indicated arson, or any other foul play. Miss Swift had not been suspected of insurance fraud, because she had no insurance on the house. The fire appeared to be totally unrelated to her disappearance.
A new lead from the victim's sister had prompted detectives to send Officer Ford to collect any information he could. The MCPD Detective Bureau was thin-stretched trying to solve crimes in a major metropolis which was the city of Mount Christopher, so it wasn't uncommon for uniformed patrol officers to assist detectives in such a manner Ford was doing now.
The lead Ford was following up on was a pawn shop. Tara's sister informed investigators that her sister had mentioned plans to visit the shop in order to sell some jewelry, presumably to raise enough money to afford shelter. The employees at this pawn shop may very well be the last people to have seen Miss Swift and Ford was acutely aware of the importance of his assignment.
Officer Ford's patrol car pulled up in front of the pawn shop and the policeman surveyed the surrounding area. His initial thoughts were that a place like this could very well be where Tara disappeared from; he didn't need the bars covering the windows of the shop to tell him this was a bad part of town; buildings were run down but still inhabited and groups of shady individuals loitered about on the sidewalks. Ford was well aware of the distrusting and even downright hateful glances thrown his way. Officer Ford knew than even an officer of the law would have to watch his step here; he might well be a knight in shining armor, but the officer was surrounded by an army of dragons.
"Dispatch, Unit Four-Echo-Niner is code six at 1605 Dantes Avenue, over." Officer Ford informed the police dispatcher of his location, and that he was busy so that he should not be requested to respond to calls.
"Dispatch copies, Four-Echo-Niner."
Ford opened his door and stepped out into the open, making sure his service pistol was secure in its holster before proceeding from the safety of his cruiser. The pawn shop's neon sign was burned out, but a paper sign hanging behind the glass door let him know that the establishment was open. Ford folded his sunglasses and stored them on the loop sewn below the three button pique. An electric chime rang as he pushed the door open, but no clerk or salesmen appeared behind the counter.
The door closed with a swoosh and Ford glanced around. The interior appeared to be that of a generic pawn shop, save for one roped-off section of store. What looked like a mirror sat a good meter back from the ropes, and a sign reading NOT FOR SALE: DO NOT TOUCH hung from one corner of the frame. Ford passed by it, turning his attention back to the still-vacant sales counter.
"Hello?" Ford called. "Is there anyone here?"
Nothing but silence answered him and the officer carefully observed his surroundings for any sign of trouble. Right hand clenching the grip on his pistol, Ford advanced to the counter and rapped on its wooden surface with his left hand.
"Hello?" the officer called again. This time, however, Ford's ears were treated to a gruff reply.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!"
A pudgy, balding man emerged from a poorly illuminated hallway, focused intently on his feet, as if trying to avoid stepped on some obstacles littering the floor.
"Now, what do you wa—'' the man glanced up and saw a sharp-looking MCPD officer standing before him in his store. Immediately, a fake smile sprung onto his face and he adopted a much friendly tone. "I mean… how can I help you, Officer?"
"I'm looking for a woman," Ford began. "She's missing, and we have reason to believe she visited this store before she disappeared."
The man scratched the side of his head. "Well, I'm sure you can guess I see lots of women in here. Don't remember much about most of 'em."
"I should have a picture," Ford said, patting at his pockets, "but she would have been in here to sell some jewelry."
"That doesn't tell me much; I get dozens of girls in here each week wanting to sell old jewelry and the like. Though, uh…"—he leaned forward onto his counter—"if she walked outa' here with a bag of money, you might want to check a nearby ally."
The man's casual attitude about murder infuriated Ford, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he simply held up a picture of Tara Swift. "This is the girl; recognize her?"
The man squinted at the picture for a second or two before his eyes widened and he drew a sharp intake of breath. His reaction told Officer Ford that the man was familiar with her in some way or another.
"So… ever remember seeing her?" Ford asked.
"N—no," he stammered. "I've never seen her in here before."
"Oh really?" Ford knew the man was lying, and he made no efforts to hide it.
"Look, Officer," the man said, taking on a level tone. "I get hundreds of customers through here; I can't be expected to remember them all, can I?"
Unconsciously, his gaze shifted from the policeman to the mirror tucked away in the corner of his store. Officer Ford noticed, and followed his gaze. Seeing nothing of apparent interest, he locked his eyes back on the salesman.
"I suppose you can't be expected to remember everyone," Ford began.
"Exactly. I knew you were a reasonable man, Officer," said the salesman, clearly relieved.
"However," Ford continued, "you do have a security camera. How about you turn over the tapes from the past week to me and our detectives can review them?"
The man hesitated, clearly having an internal debate within himself on whether to cooperate or not. He sighed at last, relenting to Ford's request.
"I'll be back with the tapes," he promised, while secretly planning to damage the data and render it useless. He had an electromagnet stored in the back which would do nicely at disrupting the electronic data. He just hoped it still worked.
Ford waited until the man left, and then got on his radio.
"Dispatch, this is Unit Four-Echo-Niner," the officer said while walking back to his car to collect an evidence bag. Before reaching the door, he cast a glance at the mirror, and halted in his tracks.
"Unit Four-Echo-Niner, send traffic, over."
"Standby, dispatch," Ford said, staring at what he thought had been a mirror. It wasn't reflecting, however; what looked like an ancient village was displayed on its surface.
Intrigued, Officer Ford edged closer and closer to it, until he was finally at the velvet rope isolating it from the rest of the store. He unlatched the rope from the pole and stepped inside the perimeter, walking right up to it and staring deep into the scene. Ford wasn't much interested by artwork, but nevertheless he was impressed that the picture seemed to portray true depth, along with a strikingly accurate depiction of scenery.
Looking closely, Ford noticed that certain parts of the picture actually appeared to be moving. Something soared across the sky, and he reached a gloved hand toward it. Pausing to check that the salesman was still in the back of the shop, Officer Ford touched a finger to the surface of the painting, and grunted in shock when his hand met no resistance and appeared to go several inches inside the picture.
"What the…?" Ford tried to pull his hand back, but it wouldn't budge.
"Uh-oh." The officer felt an unseen force pulling his body forward into the picture.
With his free hand, Ford reached across his body and keyed the microphone clipped on at his shoulder. "Call sixty-three!" Ford bellowed the officer needs help signal into the mic, praying someone would respond in time.
Ultimately though, it was a futile effort. Backup would takes minutes to arrive, and Ford knew he only had a few seconds; most of his body had been pulled in by that point.
He cast one last glance around the store and saw the salesman standing behind the counter, stoically observing the plight of the officer. Ford tried calling out for help but he was suddenly out of breath, unable to either inhale or cry out. Then, everything was black.