Author's note: Christmas present for all my readers, new and old alike, who've been waiting for this. Don't know when I'll be able to put up the next chapter, since I finally managed to land a job (more or less), and I have to focus on a ton of other projects. I hope I can update more frequently in the future, but until then, I'm afraid this is the best I can do.
To Guest: Thank you! Yep, that's just typical of Gohan, hehe.
To LegendOfTomorrow: If Gohan hadn't put up his energy shield, I think he would have suffered far more damage, but not so as to critically endanger his life. As for who's behind the Dome, your only hint is that they're from outer space ;)
To Iceranger32: Yeah, real life commitments suck sometimes. But I'm still here, even though it's been so much already, and I hope you are too. Never give up!
To Zyphrost: Thank you. I wish I could have more time to write, though.
To Axalion: Thank you so much! I tend to give my original characters very casual names, but I can see your point. Regarding the story, it is full of subplots, and there's still so much I have to reveal, but you'll have to wait for now. Just keep following!
To SierraLarson: Yeah, when I first came up with this, I wanted to stay away from all those predictable and boring cliches, and that's exactly what I'm doing. Combining different aspects both from the show and the book, or coming up with totally new characters, helped me create so many possibilities. I just hope people are not going to be disappointed. Oh, and Saiyaman's identity? That something's Gohan is willing to protect at all costs, so we'll see ;)
Disclaimer: Do I own Dragon Ball Z? I don't know, you tell me.
Chapter ten: A new threat?
The Satan City Police Department Headquarters was a large, tall, stern building located in the Downtown District. Sprawling over four floors, a subterranean level, and a large rooftop with two helipads, the station was a truly intimidating sight: elegance had been discarded in favor of an austere look, emphasized by the tan bricks that made up most of the surface. A single, horizontal band of blue divided the building in two, running just over the main entrance, where the official logo of the police force was placed: a silver star on orange background, with the initials SCPD scattered on the corners of the logo.
Thousands of people, officers and civilians alike, flocked there every day, each going through their own routine. Not even the Dome had managed to stop the constant flow of citizens; on the contrary, the emergency had only made matters worse, forcing the authorities to set up small checkpoints and double its security measures in the immediate surroundings of the building. These meager arrangements were a long shot from keeping the Headquarters actually safe in the event of a serious threat, especially when a big chunk of all available personnel was out patrolling the entire city, but given that the Satan City Police was well known for its general unpreparedness when it came to handling emergencies, it was impressive enough that they'd somehow managed to keep the city from falling apart...for now.
At the moment, however, there was very little action around the station. Once again, a mysterious, hard rain was falling down, accompanied by a harsh wind; considering it was also the middle of the night, it wasn't strange that the only people outside were the officers guarding the perimeter. Who, on their part, weren't actually enjoying themselves, and would have gladly left their post and sought shelter inside. Unfortunately for them, the new chief was not as lenient as his predecessor, and their pleas all fell on deaf ears.
"Our duty is to protect the people of this city. We will not let our guard down now that they need us the most, so stop acting like a bunch of pussies and get back to your post!" he yelled after the third couple of rookies that night had come to him, asking to be excused from their guard duties, before slamming the door shut and getting back to his desk.
"I'm surrounded by slackers" he mumbled, sitting down and resuming his tedious paperwork. "Drake was too soft on these guys. I'll have to teach them some discipline."
McKinney had always been a hard worker throughout his life, and expected others to be just as dedicated as he was. He deeply despised the corruption and lack of motivation that plagued his fellow colleagues, and that's what pushed him to do his best at making the city a better place to live, eventually reaching the rank of Deputy Chief. Although he highly respected Drake, he always thought that his bizarre, sometimes even unconventional behavior, was not fit for a man of his rank, and the two often argued about the best ways to handle delicate operations.
Now, Drake was dead and he was the new Chief, although this wasn't how he'd expected to ascend to the position. Nonetheless, he finally had the power to fulfill his lifetime goal: to rid the entire city of crime and instill civic sense on its citizens through the rightful use of justice. Satan City would stand out as the first working meritocracy in the world, and he would finally get the recognition he deserved. Not even the Dome would stop him from pursuing his utopian dreams...actually, it might even help him in some aspects.
But for that to happen, he had to carefully plan his moves. He knew others would take advantage of the general confusion and try to destabilize the authorities, ruining everything.
The most dangerous enemy was unquestionably the Red Shark Gang; McKinney had no doubt they had several moles inside the police department, he'd have to be extra careful around his subordinates. Luckily, he did have his own ace in the hole: Undercover Detective Carter.
"Now that's a man worthy of being called such" he mumbled, flipping through the pages of a security dossier, occasionally underlining the important information. Carter had successfully infiltrated the crime syndicate around 6 months ago, specifically tasked with finding the moles among the police ranks. So far he hadn't managed to get their identities, but McKinney knew he had to act slowly and carefully; one faux pas, and all those months spent in slowly winning their trust would've been for nothing.
Also, he had two special allies on his side: the well-known heroine Videl Satan, who actively cooperated with the police force, and the mysterious Great Saiyaman, who always seemed to know where the action was and rarely stuck around more than necessary. Their abilities and popularity were invaluable to him, and he had to ensure their loyalty, especially regarding Saiyaman; finding a means to communicate with the elusive vigilante was of the utmost importance.
He finished reading the dossier and closed it, allowing himself a small break to clear his mind. A small yawn escaped his mouth as he took a quick glance at the clock: two in the morning.
This late already? But I can't go to sleep...so much work to be done...
But he had been cooped up in his office for the better part of the evening; if quitting was not an option, he could at least hit the coffee dispenser downstairs and check on his subordinates.
Making up his mind, he set off to his new destination, and a couple of minutes later he was sipping his hot cup of black coffee, in the common room. Aside from the occasional officer passing through, the place was very quiet; everyone was either out on patrol or working in their cubicles.
He had almost finished his coffee when a voice suddenly called him from behind: "Chief! I was just looking for you, sir."
He turned; a graceful woman with her brown hair tied in a bun, wearing eyeglasses and carrying a folder underarm, was walking in his direction.
"Sergeant Ross? What are you doing here at this hour? I thought your shift was over hours ago."
"Just doing my job sir. All of it" she emphasized, closing the distance between them. Aside from the bags under her eyes, there were no other evident signs of tiredness.
McKinney sighed. "Admirable. Now, if only half of those slackers had even half of your sense of duty..."
"Thank you sir. I have some updates on that murder in Brentwood apartments which we were discussing earlier this morning."
"Ah, yes, that strange man...Newman was his name, right?"
"Jay R. Newman, or at least that's what his ID and passport said. The forensic guys confirmed the documents have been fabricated though, and we're still trying to figure out what his real identity was."
"Mmmh. Must've been running away from something. Maybe he'd stepped on the wrong person's toes?" He gulped down the last drops of coffee.
"It's a possibility. The search we conducted on his apartment indicates he was preparing to leave town, maybe to escape from the same people that eventually killed him."
"What about them? Do we have any clues on who the killer might be?"
"We've examined the house thoroughly, but no traces of DNA other than that of the victim's were found, unfortunately. But...there are some witnesses - other residents of the building - who claim to have seen someone coming out of the apartment...sort of..."
"Sort of?"
"That's where things get weird..." she adjusted her glasses. "A resident who lives on the same floor, and who happened to be leaning out of a nearby window, claims that someone jumped out of Mr. Newman's window, sometime around three o'clock, right after he was murdered. This was confirmed by other people who witnessed the accident from different floors."
"What?"
"All they could see was a blurred silhouette. But when they went down at ground level to check...there was nothing. No trace of blood, no sign of impact whatsoever." She looked away, slightly frustrated. "He'd vanished without a trace."
"But that's impossible. It just doesn't make sense!" McKinney was stunned. "Ross, are you sure they didn't make this story up?"
"Unlikely. They were all shocked and didn't seem to be lying. Besides, why would they?"
"Maybe they fear for their lives. Maybe they were threatened by the same person who killed Mr. Newman." He closed his eyes for a moment, deep in thought, then reopened them. "Naah, that's too far-fetched. All right, so if that were true, and the killer really jumped out and disappeared...then where does this lead us?"
"There is only one option, however improbable." She paused, as if gathering the courage to finish the sentence. "He...the killer can fly."
A sudden silence enveloped the room; the only sound was the wind howling in the cold, dark night.
"But...there's only one person in this town who could do that!" The cup almost fell from McKinney's grasp. "Sergeant Ross, are you suggesting that..."
"Sir, I don't think that Saiyaman is our killer, but we have to admit that this whole case is highly suspicious. Maybe there's other people that can fly like him, and we just don't know about them. Or maybe the killer used some sort of, I don't know, flying machine, a jet-pack maybe..."
"Ok, now we're verging too far on science fiction. Let's backtrack a little...what else do we know about the murder?"
"I'm afraid that's all for now. There's just so much we don't understand yet..."
"Well, we'll just have to sort it all out, don't we, sergeant?" the chief asked, slightly angered by the lack of further information.
"Yes sir, we'll do our best!" she quickly replied, standing to attention almost military-like, noticing the change in her superior's voice.
"I don't have to remind you that, given the circumstances, no information about the case must leave this building, do I?"
"No sir. No one except the people strictly involved will know the details."
"Especially that annoying DJ. I don't want her snooping around our base at the high school and spreading crazy nonsense on the radio." He turned to face the window, hands behind his back. "As if people weren't panicked enough..."
"Roger that." She fumbled with her folder, staring at the man's turned back for what seemed like hours. After a couple of minutes, the man broke the silence: "Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, sergeant?" he asked, still facing the window.
"No sir, that was all."
"Then you should go home. You look very tired."
"I guess..." she barely suppressed a yawn with her free hand. "Good night sir." She turned around and walked towards the door.
"Good night to you too, sergeant" he replied. Then, he turned around and, just as she was leaving, called her again: "Oh, and Ross?"
She suddenly stopped, and turned to face him with a curious look.
"Good Job."
"Thank you sir." She smiled; then, turning back, she stepped out and disappeared from his sight.
The chief stood there, looking at the now empty spot where just a moment ago the woman was standing. He couldn't stop thinking about the mysterious murder. Violent cases like this were extremely common in Satan City...yet this one was different, he could sense it. And the possibility of Saiyaman being involved...
No, it can't be. Why would he randomly kill someone? Unless he had his reasons...
Still, he couldn't quite picture the superhero, who was so committed to justice, in the act of killing an unknown man and not even alerting the authorities.
No, it just didn't add up; it must've been someone else. But then, who?
"Aah, but why am I tormenting myself over such a low priority case?" he said to himself, dropping the empty cup in the trash can. "With everything that's been going on lately, I should really focus on the most important things."
He took one last look outside the window: the storm had died down a little, but the rain was still falling, beating against the hard glass.
For some reason, this made him feel...reassured.
Gohan and Sharpner woke up at around the same time Sharpner's parents left for work. After a quick breakfast and shower, the boys (mostly Sharpner) decided to go see Erasa and Videl.
The rain had completely stopped by dawn, and now a bright sun was shining over the city. The half-Saiyan had chosen to carry the backpack with its precious contents with him, in case he needed to quickly turn into his alter ego. He stuffed it into Sharpner's car trunk and, after a few minutes of warming up the engine, the two set off. They couldn't help but notice the unusually high police presence whenever they went.
"Man, look at that...I've seen more cops in the past three days than in my whole life" Sharpner commented. "Good thing I fastened my seat belt this morning."
Halfway through the ride, having noticed the needle on the fuel gauge was dangerously pointing downwards, the blonde decided to take a detour for the nearest gas station. When they got there, however, they found it crazily crowded: a lot of people were stocking up on gas and propane, fearing they might ran out of those precious resources before the current crisis was resolved; and the station owners, seizing the opportunity, had quickly raised the prices as they saw fit.
"What? Almost 5000 yen to fill up?" Sharpner shouted in disbelief. "This is ridiculous!"
"Take it or leave it boy, but I suggest you choose wisely. Today it's 5000, tomorrow...who knows?" The clerk smirked; he was surely enjoying his job these days.
In the end, Sharpner begrudgingly decided to pay; ten minutes later, they arrived at Erasa's house: a modest white spherical building with a semi-detached garage, and a small garden.
The boys knocked on the door, and were greeted by their blonde friend. "Gohan, Sharpner! Wasn't expecting you guys so soon. Come in." She stepped aside to let them through.
"We were getting bored" Sharpner said nonchalantly. "You're looking pretty good for someone who's not expecting visits" he grinned: Erasa was wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of skinny jeans, which highlighted her gracious curves.
"Oh, shut up Sharpie, I'm just getting ready for work." She grabbed a brush and started fixing her hair up in front of a mirror.
"How's Videl?" Gohan asked; he was still concerned about her.
"A bit better. I can't imagine how hard it must be for her...but she's a strong girl. I'm sure she'll recover."
"Where is she now?" asked Sharpner.
"Right behind you."
Everyone turned; Videl Satan had emerged from the hallway, sporting some new, fresh clothes, courtesy of her blonde friend. However, her wild hair and messy face clearly indicated that she'd had a tough night.
"Hey Videl! How are you feeling? I thought you were still asleep." Erasa asked.
"I'm fine, I can't sleep all day, it's nine in the morning! I have to go help the police and-"
"Why don't you take it easy? You've been through so much. You need to rest." Erasa approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to get stressed out."
"I'm fine, really." Videl gently grabbed her hand and slowly moved her away. "But thanks for the concern."
She then turned to the boys. "Morning guys" she casually greeted them. "I'm afraid you came here for nothing, Erasa and I are just leaving and-"
"Wait Videl. There's...there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I...need your help." All of a sudden, Sharpner had gotten deadly serious. Gohan gave him a puzzled look.
"Oh...can't it wait? I really have to-"
"Please" he took one step forward. "It's really important to me."
They exchanged looks for a while: Sharpner's unusually resolute attitude was rendered even more evident by Videl's equally unusual shaken up state.
"Ok" she finally answered. "I'm listening."
"Actually...it's best if I tell you on the way." He suddenly changed his tone. "I'll give you a ride. You don't wanna be late, do you?"
Gohan and Videl shared a look of surprise: this sure was anticlimactic. "O...k." She answered, still confused.
"I'm ready!" Erasa had finished preparing herself. "So, we're all going, right?"
Gohan sensed an almost imperceptible movement coming from his left, right where Sharpner was standing. He looked at him, and for a moment he could've sworn the muscular boy had just turned his head and looked away, pretending to be interested in the ceiling. He wasn't sure, but for some reason, it seemed that Sharpner was uncomfortable with his presence. Maybe that was why he didn't want to explain his problem?
Which reminds me...
"You guys go ahead" he said out of the blue. "I...need to take care of some things."
"What?" Everyone said in unison. Ignoring their questioning glances, he left the house and retrieved his bag from the trunk.
"Hey, what's this about?" Sharpner had followed him outside. "Where are you going? I can take you there."
"Uh, thanks, but it won't be necessary." He closed the trunk and gave him a weak smile. "I'll see you all later!"
And with that, he turned around and started walking down the street. Meanwhile, Videl and Erasa had joined Sharpner, and were now watching as their friend walked away.
"I wonder what that was all about..." The blonde girl commented.
"Probably nothing serious" Videl quickly sentenced. "Anyway, we should get moving. Come on."
"That guy can be a real mystery sometimes" Sharpner sentenced. The other two nodded, and they all entered the car. Before closing the door, Videl took one last glance outside, catching a glimpse of Gohan's trademark yellow bag.
I'm watching you Gohan. You can't hide your secrets forever...not from me.
Where are you hiding?
Sitting on the chair of his improvised office, a hot cup of coffee clutched in his hand, Detective Carter was examining the clues he'd gathered so far about the blonde bank robber: a handful of testimonies from passersby, who all claimed they'd seen the armed woman, minutes after evading the police, board a black hovercar with tinted windows piloted by someone else, then leave at high speed towards the southern edges of the city. But while the car was eventually found, the same could not be said for the wanted couple; the area had been thoroughly searched, but to no avail. Furthermore, the criminals had even managed not to leave any traces behind: they were either very lucky or very good at their work.
They had been so for three months. This trend had to stop.
One thing was certain: they couldn't run away. And they couldn't hide forever. He would find them, it was only a matter of time. Still, if only he had a more solid lead...
"Detective Carter?"
He jumped, almost spilling his coffee on the desk. "What the...?" A black man with sunglasses he didn't seem to recognize was casually standing on the doorstep.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to make you jump, detective." He slightly chuckled; His voice was vaguely familiar...
"It's ok. Please come in, mister...?"
"It's Phantom Tom" he said with a large smile. Then it finally came to him.
"Aah, so you're the owner of the radio station upstairs. Please, sit down." he gestured to the empty chair, and the man sat down. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Tom?"
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, believe me." He flashed a wide smile, revealing his flawless dentition. Then he got straight down to business. "You see, I wanted to talk to the big man himself about this, but he redirected me to you. Said you took it to yourself to keep my station 'secure'."
"Yes, I...it's unofficial. I just make sure there's always someone checking up from time to time."
"Now, detective" Tom lowered his tone and his laid-back attitude changed to a serious one, "if you were so concerned about the security of my workplace, why not make this sort of surveillance...official?" He leaned closer "Why wasn't I told anything?"
"I...uh..." Carter hesitated a bit before answering. "I didn't think it'd be such a problem to you Tom, that's why."
"A problem? You know what's a problem? Here" he took something from his pocket and tossed it on the desk: it was a small, chip-like device, attached with what seemed like a miniature microphone; in other words, a spy bug.
"Found this under a table in my room. Any idea who could have put it there? 'Cause I do."
The detective clearly didn't expect that. "A listening device? What...how-"
"Detective, I gotta ask: have you been spying on me and my boys?"
"No, of course not! We'd never do such a thing outside of an official investigation!" He'd somewhat raised his voice, and had to put down his cup. "This must've been someone else..."
"Please, enlighten me, then." Tom folded his arms, a wry smile stamped across his face.
"We keep track of everyone who enters and leaves the building; whoever bugged your studio, must be someone who can easily walk around here without being noticed. That leaves two options: it was either one of the students who work at the radio station..."
"Impossible. They have no reason to do such a thing."
"...or someone from our ranks." Damn.
"Just as I thought."
The detective rubbed his face. "Listen, whoever it was, he acted on his own accord. I can assure you, the Police Department has nothing to do with this matter, and I'll personally get to the bottom of this." He stopped for a moment, reorganizing his thoughts. "Here's what I'll do: I'll have one of our men perform a complete bug sweep, just to be safe, and I'll also put a guard outside the door, so nobody will enter the studio without proper authorization. What do you think?"
"Heh...I don't really have a choice, do I?" he sarcastically shrugged.
"Come on, Tom. I'm only trying to help you."
"Yeah, right, just keep your men out of my studio once they're done with the sweep. You may have taken over the school, but the radio station belongs to the people of this city, and I will defend its independence!"
"Nobody is threatening your independence" he firmly stated. "I understand this unfortunate episode has made you question our abilities, and I'm sincerely sorry. We're spread too thin, and though we're doing our best, we certainly weren't prepared for such a large scale emergency. But one thing's for sure: we care about you. And we're going to do everything we can to protect the people of this city. So please, don't you dare imply that we're just taking advantage of the situation without a shred of evidence!"
Both men were coldly staring at each other now, and none seemed eager to make a move. Eventually, Tom slowly raised himself from his seat, still not breaking eye contact with the red haired man.
"I hope you're right, because if you're not, we're gonna have a big problem."
"And I hope you stop with your wild accusations. We've got plenty of problems to deal with; wouldn't want to add you to the list."
"Are you threatening me, detective?"
"Just giving you a friendly advice, Tom." He too was standing up now. "That's part of my job. Now, will there be anything else?"
There was a tense silence, but after a few moments, the DJ finally replied: "...no."
"Then if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. Good day!"
"See you around." Tom hissed, not even trying to conceal the hostility in his voice. In a second, he got out, shutting the door behind him with a little more force than necessary.
Carter sighed, then finished what was left of his coffee. He now had one more mystery to solve: who could have been spying on Tom's private conversations, and for what reason?
Could it be...the mole that was hiding in their ranks?
But why would the Red Shark Gang be interested in the radio station? Was it because of its proximity with the police controlled school?
Then again, it could have very well been an unknown third party...
Or...was Tom actually right? Was this part of an official police operation he knew nothing about?
Either way, standing around like this wasn't going to answer his questions. He had to investigate.
Again.
Not that he was getting much progress on the bank robber case, either.
Ok then. Time to pay the chief a visit. If there's anyone in the whole department who could help me with this, it's him.
Powered up in his Super Saiyan form and donning the Saiyaman costume, Gohan was flying over the city, on the lookout for any potentially violent crime. Since his radio equipped helmet had been thorn to shreds on the very first day, he now had to rely on his eyes and ears to spot criminal activities; a highly frustrating task, to say the least.
But this wasn't the only reason he'd left his classmates: he had to know if Piccolo had discovered something since their last conversation, and check up on Vegeta.
Vegeta...I hope he's alright...
Thankfully, he could sense him: he was meditating somewhere around the south-eastern border of the Dome.
He sped up in that direction, and a few minutes later landed on top of a rocky hill. The Saiyan prince was sitting down with his legs crossed and eyes closed, but as soon as he felt the young half-Saiyan approaching, he relaxed and stared up at him.
"Morning, Vegeta."
"Hmph. About time you showed up."
"Huh? Were you waiting for me?"
"Just follow me." Without further explanation, the Saiyan suddenly got up and started walking down the hill.
"Where are you going?" Gohan asked, but when Vegeta ignored him, he grudgingly complied. After a while, they both stopped at the foot of the hill.
"See that?" Vegeta pointed at a small gap where, hidden behind shrubbery, lay the entrance to a dark cave. "That's where I spent the night...and made an interesting discovery."
"What did you find?"
"Why don't you go see with your own eyes?" Vegeta gave him a challenging look. After some hesitation, Gohan walked up and entered the cave alone.
The interior was, unsurprisingly, dark and moist, but thanks to his golden aura the darkness quickly dissipated, and he was able to inspect the place: there was a wool blanket, probably used by Vegeta for cover (although he didn't know where he got it from), the scattered remains of a bonfire...and a pair of dirty boots.
Wait. There's something attached to those boots, he noticed, and moved closer to get a better look.
He almost jumped back: those were legs!
No, wait: there was a whole body stretched out on the ground...an alien body!
And it was entirely covered head to toe by a dry, reddish liquid, that could only be one thing: blood.
"What the hell?" he shouted, startled by the gruesome discovery. "What happened here?"
"Hell if I know. He was already like that when I came here yesterday night." Vegeta was peering on the entrance, but he wasn't in the slightest concerned about the sight. "Judging from the blood, he must've been dead for several hours before I discovered him."
"But...who could have killed him? There's no way a normal human being could do such a thing!"
"And that's not the only mystery. Catch!" Without any warning, he threw something at the young half-Saiyan, who narrowly grabbed at the last second. It was a small, sharp fragment of solid material, probably some sort of metal. The surface was plain white, and there was a small inscription on one side: it looked like a series of ancient symbols, but whatever language it was, Gohan could not understand it.
"What's this? I don't think I've ever seen this kind of alloy before..."
"It was not too far from the body. Something tells me they're related somehow."
Gohan stared intently at the piece in his hands, trying to make sense of it, before giving up and tucking it away in one of his pockets.
"Why didn't you tell me about this yesterday? You slept in this cave the night before too, right?" he asked, as he headed toward the exit.
"No. I've stayed at a much smaller one before I discovered this one last night."
As soon as he was out, Vegeta raised his palm and shot a relatively low-powered ki blast towards the dead body; there was a small explosion, and after the dust settled, all that remained were scattered ashes.
Gohan gave him a questioning look, to which Vegeta sarcastically replied: "What, you don't like my burial technique? Incineration is my specialty."
Before he could retort, he heard a deep voice resonating in his head, calling out for him: "Gohan, are you there?"
"Piccolo!" he shouted, both mentally and physically. Vegeta looked astonished for a moment, but he quickly understood what was happening and recomposed himself.
"Yes, I hear you. Is my mother all right?"
"Yeah, she's fine, don't worry. But even after I told her what was going on, she still wanted to come and...try to 'rescue' you herself, so I took her to Bulma to calm her down."
"Good idea, it's better if they stay together right now."
"Anyway, back on track. I've extensively examined the whole surface of the Dome and its surroundings, and I didn't find anything. No alien presence, no suspicious machinery, nothing at all. Which leads to only one conclusion: the source of the Dome must be on the inside. Now it's only up to you two to find it."
"I see. Well, Satan City is pretty big. Add the countryside, and we have a huuuuge area to cover."
"I'm afraid so...but still, there's a possibility that the source could be located in a very limited range."
"And what is it?"
"Think of the shape of the Dome...a hemisphere, with a diameter of roughly 40 miles, which covers the whole city and its surroundings. Logically, whatever is keeping or powering up such a huge structure should be located at the very center of it...at the core of Satan City itself."
Gohan remained silent. Of course! Why didn't I figure that out sooner?
"You're right! We should focus our efforts in the central area of the city!"
"As I said, that's just a possibility. It may not necessarily be the right one, so don't just rush there and let your guard down. The aliens may try to stop you if they realize your intentions."
"Roger that..."
There was a brief pause; Gohan's new objective was now clear, and he quickly filled Vegeta in on the latest news. After that, he once again resumed his conversation with Piccolo: "So what are you gonna do now?"
"As much as I hate to admit it, there's nothing else I can do for now. I'll go back to the Lookout and watch the events from there, maybe I'll find something new."
"I hope so..."
"Since I can't communicate with you all the way from there, I'll come back to the Dome at dawn, noon and dusk everyday, so you can contact me if anything comes up."
"Wow! Can you really do that?"
"Of course. It'll be a bit taxing, but for you, all this and more."
"Thank you Piccolo. I know I can always count on you."
"Don't mention it. Stay safe out there, both of you. Good luck."
The conversation was over; Gohan turned to Vegeta, who was sitting on a rock with his arms folded, waiting for them to finish their chat.
"You done? Now let's go find this damn generator!" He rose up, a determined look on his face.
"There's no guarantee that we'll find anything there. But it's our best bet, so let's just hope I'm wrong." He said, more to himself than to the Saiyan prince.
They both took off, Gohan slightly ahead, leading the way. After a couple of minutes, they landed on top of a small skyscraper, right in the middle of Downtown, the beating heart of Satan City.
Just as Gohan expected, the area at first glance didn't show anything out of the ordinary: people strolling through the busy streets, walking in and out of shops, offices and restaurants...like nothing ever happened. Of course, some buildings were left semi vacant or had been closed down due to the sudden resource shortage, giving the scene a somewhat creepy look; additionally, the police were putting up barricades and sealing some streets off for security reasons.
"With all the commotion, I don't see how there can be an alien operational base or a generator around here" the boy commented. "Obviously it can't be in any of the abandoned buildings, since they were evacuated after the appearance of the Dome."
"True; but we should still search them anyways. You never know."
Gohan didn't totally agree with the idea, but they couldn't afford to overlook any possibility. Besides, it wasn't like they were running out of time.
But those aliens...with their strange powers and mysterious intentions...even after he'd fought and beat them twice, he knew they still had everything under control. They were watching, and maybe even laughing, while he and Vegeta were struggling to survive and find a way out of their trap.
Piccolo was right; they wouldn't let them out so easily.
"Come on, let's get started" Vegeta exhorted, and, not waiting for an answer, he took off towards the nearest empty skyscraper. Gohan was about to follow suit, when he heard a slight thump coming from behind. He turned back, half-expecting another fight with a mysterious alien, but there was no one to greet him.
What's this? Am I starting to hear things too?
He stared at the empty spot, then looked around, frantically searching for anything that may have caused the noise. But there was nothing unusual around him.
"What's the hold up?" An annoyed Vegeta shouted from afar. Gohan faltered, then, deciding that it was truly nothing, turned back and left the roof for good.
Videl and Sharpner were sitting face to face at a table of the newly restored school cafeteria. Erasa had started her morning shift with Pen, and the young heroine had decided she wanted to eat something before reporting for duty to the chief (even though she wasn't technically obliged to). She wanted to get back to work to distract herself from thinking about Drake, and concentrate on the main issue - the Dome; but when Sharpner told her about his "little problem" with the Red Shark Gang, just as they were eating, it seemed things had, once again, taken a turn for the worse.
"...And so now I have one we- no, six days to pay up." The blonde teenager wrapped up, a troubled look on his face as he nervously fiddled with a fork. "Please Videl, you've gotta help me. I don't know what to do!"
"Geez Sharpner...you couldn't have picked a worse time to get into this kind of trouble..."
"It's not my fault! Well, not really, but how could I-"
"Look, I'll help you" she cut him off, sensing an incoming headache. "But we need to report this to the police."
"No way! If we do that, they're gonna find out, and I'll be dead!"
"Don't be foolish, security measures have increased drastically in these few days. As long as you stay away from danger, no one's gonna hurt you."
"You don't understand- they know where I live, where I hang out, they have moles inside the police. Maybe I shouldn't even have told you this, but I was desperate!"
He looked like he was almost on the verge of tears; so much different from the cool-headed jock he was at school, she thought.
"Ok, listen...I won't tell anyone, for now. We'll try to come up with something else." She finished her orange juice. "This Jimbo guy...we need to take him out of your life."
Sharpner looked at her in disbelief: "Videl...are you suggesting..."
"I'm not planning on killing him!" Her face turned red with anger. "That's not how we deal with problems! No, I was thinking about...having a chat with him."
Sharpner looked up in disbelief. "What? Is that your solution? A friendly talk with the guy?"
"Just leave it to me. You asked for my help, right? That's exactly what you'll get: my help, and no one else's."
"Yeah, but come on, you really think that's the right idea?"
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Now, all you have to do is tell me where I can find him."
"Well, he used to hang out behind the Dynamo gym, on East Side; other than that, I don't know."
"That'll suffice." She picked up the tray with the plastic cutlery and other remnants of her meal, and proceeded to throw them in the trash can, with Sharpner in tow. "I'll take it from here. You can go back to your ordinary life now."
"Thanks Videl. I don't know what I would without you!"
I don't know either, she said to herself.
After that, Sharpner decided to go jogging to blow off some steam; meanwhile, Videl was going to the chief's office, where McKinney had told he'd be staying during the morning, and wait for further instructions.
At the start of the police occupation, the chief had set up a branch office in the former's principal's room, constantly moving from his main office at Headquarters to the new one. The suspension of classes meant that the majority of teachers and janitors were left without a job, leaving most classrooms and offices vacant, and the principal, who was nominally a member of the provisional administration of the school, had been convinced it was in his best interest to 'step aside' and keep doing his work from home. The man, on his part, didn't seem to care much about his relocation. He was probably enjoying this 'forced vacation', given how stressed he'd looked in the last weeks.
These were the thoughts that accompanied Videl as she walked up and reached the third floor, where the office was located. But when she got there, she found an unexpected sign posted on the door.
"Out investigating; will be back in two or three hours" she read out loud. Apparently, he was already busy of his own.
As she was pondering whether to use her watch to contact him or not, a familiar voice called her out from behind: "Hey there, miss Videl!"
She turned around, and her eyes made contact with a figure well-known to her: "Detective Carter!"
"Looks like our man's decided to go looking for the bad guys by himself, huh?" the redhead commented, approaching the teen. Apparently, he, too, was looking for their superior. Videl had only occasionally worked with the man on a couple of occasions, yet she strongly felt she could trust him. Was it because of his good looks? Or was it the smoothness of his voice? Or...
Enough! She mentally slapped herself and quickly regained control of her thoughts.
"I heard what happened to the boss. A devastating loss; he was a great man, our dear Drake." His head slightly bowed down; he was probably reminiscing on some old memories.
"Yeah, I miss him so much..." Silence filled the air as the two of them quietly mourned the departed; after a short while, however, Videl recomposed herself.
"Ok, now's not the time to get sentimental...we have work to do, right?"
"Of course. But lately I feel like all I'm doing is running in circles, literally." He tucked his hands in his pockets and started walking down the stairs. Unsure of what to do, she decided to follow him for a while.
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked. The detective took a long look at her before he answered: "Not really, but thanks for asking anyway."
"Oh, ok..." She was slightly let down, but didn't give it much thought, and the two kept walking. After a while, however, the detective suddenly seemed to have changed his mind: "Wait a sec...now that I think of it, there might be something you could help me with after all..."
"What is it?"
"You're friends with that DJ girl...Erasa, right?"
"Huh? Yeah, what about her?"
"Nothing special. I just want you to, uhm...keep an eye on her, while she's working."
"Keep an eye on her?" Videl raised an eyebrow: that was something even a rookie could do. Why would he ask her?
"Yes. You see, I've already assigned an armed guard to the entrance of the radio station, but dear old 'Phantom' Tom won't allow direct police presence on the inside. That's why I need someone like you. You're not 'technically' part of the police force, after all."
"Why would he refuse to let police enter the station?"
"He doesn't trust us. He thinks we're trying to take away people's freedoms and establish a 'police state' or something like that. Heh." He lowered his head, a wry smile forming on his lips.
"And why are you so intent on placing a guard in there? What do you want to protect them from?" Videl stepped closer and looked straight at him, or rather, his shoulder, since he was taller and turning the other way; she was sure he was hiding something.
The man turned, and was unfazed by her stare. Instead, he calmly answered: "Someone's been spying on them."
The girl was taken aback: "Spying? Who?"
"I still don't know. But the radio station's not safe, that's for sure." He turned on his side and finally faced her: "Listen, I know you may only take orders from the chief, but I'd feel a lot better knowing you're watching over the place; and also, I suppose your friend's well-being is of great concern to you, right?"
At those words, she froze: as much as she didn't like to stay put on one place, away from the action, she couldn't consciously leave a close friend in a potentially dangerous situation. The memory of Drake's death was still fresh in her mind, and she wouldn't repeat the same mistakes - not anymore.
"A-alright. Leave it to me!"
"Thank you miss!" He gave her a genuine smile, which made her slightly blush.
"Well, I gotta go. Thieves to catch, people to save. See you later, miss!" he said, waving his arm as he ran and disappeared down the stairs. Videl couldn't stop looking at his figure until he was gone.
"Bye" she almost whispered in response. Damn! I don't know how he does it, but that guy always manages to be so...cool and charming and...
Shaking off the inappropriate thoughts that were starting to fill her mind, she turned back and made her way to the radio station.
"...then I want a roadblock at the intersection of the 47th and Ferguson, and another one near the entrance of the bank; there must be a four-man patrol around the perimeter at all times, and at least a motorized unit not farther than 650 feet. Everything clear?"
"Yes sir!" forty men responded in unison.
"Good. Captain Flanagan, you and your men head over to the third sector; everybody else, you know what to do."
"Yes sir!" There was a sound of chairs being moved and frantic footsteps, and in a matter of seconds, the room was left almost empty. Only McKinney stayed, his back turned to a wall sized map of the entire city, where he had marked buildings to defend, streets to close and other critical points. The city had also been broken down into numbered and colored sectors, with green being the relatively peaceful zones, yellow the places where the consequences of the Dome had caused considerable damage, and red referring to the most dangerous and crime-ridden areas, where he'd assign the most skilled and experienced units.
The massive increase in security would certainly lead to a sudden drop in crime rates, he was sure of it. Yet this grand plan carried a potentially big flaw: the growing scarcity of resources. How long would the city survive on emergency generators? What would happen when all the fuel ran out? And what about food, water, medicine, and ammunition?
This was a serious problem, and he had to find a solution. He'd make sure to discuss this during his next meeting with the Mayor.
After walking out of the room, he decided there was one more place he had to go to before getting back to the school. Zipping up his coat, he left for the parking lot and boarded his car, where his personal chauffeur had been in wait, listening to the radio. As soon as he was aware of his presence, he straightened and started the engine.
"Where to, chief?"
"The General Hospital."
The vehicle they were in was actually a hovercar: faster than its wheeled counterpart, but also more consuming. Thanks to its advanced propulsion system, it was capable of reaching great heights, depleting its internal battery the more it rose from the ground, so people mostly drove at ground level or through specifically designated elevated roads. And it was using one of these roads that, ten minutes later, they arrived in front of the Satan City General Hospital, a massive medical facility located in the heart of the western districts of the city.
After telling his driver he wouldn't be gone for too long, the chief hopped down and made his way towards the entrance. Entering the hall, he was slightly caught off guard by the apparent chaos that reigned supreme: people impatiently queuing at the reception, doctors running around shouting orders and pushing patients in wheelchairs or stretchers, parents sitting in the waiting room trying to calm down their crying kids...yet somehow everyone seemed to go on in an orderly fashion, which struck him as odd. The noise, however, was too much for his old ears, so without further ado, he walked past the reception and down one of the hallways. Some of the employees gave him strange looks, but whenever they tried to approach him and ask for his business, a quick flash of his badge was all he needed to keep them away. Relentlessly making his way up, he did not stop until he finally reached his destination: the door to a patient's room in the middle of the fifth floor.
He peeked through the upper glass part of the door: there was only one person, sleeping soundly in her bed.
The man put his hand on the handle and slowly opened the door, trying not to make too much noise. Once he was in, he left the door ajar and approached the bed. He looked down at the little girl who was peacefully sleeping, unaware of the outside world. He gently ran his hand through her hair, careful not to touch any of the wires that connected her frail body to the sophisticated machinery all around the bed. Looking at one of the monitors, he checked to see if the vital parameters - the ones he'd learned to recognize - were stable; everything looked fine.
"Good morning, honey" he whispered, planting a small kiss on her forehead. "You know daddy loves you very, very much, right?"
He closed his eyes, savoring that moment of peace; and for the first moment since the start of the crisis, he smiled.
But it didn't last long: he heard some faint footsteps from behind, and from the corner of his eye he caught sight of a young nurse.
He turned to face her: visiting hours were yet to even start, he knew that too well. And he wasn't one to break the rules, even though he'd just done so in order to see his daughter, even if only for one minute.
The nurse was unsure of what to do; she looked straight at the man's eyes and, after some hesitation, decided to leave like nothing ever happened.
Sighing, McKinney mentally thanked her. However, time was running short either way; he had to get back to work. Back to the real life.
He kissed his daughter again, whispered "Goodbye", and walked out of the room.
As soon as he closed the door and turned to the left, he saw a boy running wildly through the hallway, right in his direction. At that distance, the chief would have never had the time to dodge him.
"Outta the way, old man!" the boy shouted, avoiding him at the last second, and continued with his reckless run. The chief was irritated, but knowing that he couldn't keep up with his speed, he tried to at least get a look at his face. But he was already too far, and all he managed to see were his swaying black hair, and an orange bandana tied to his neck.