Pursuit Force: The White Dog

Chapter 12

The Chief could easily tell that something was wrong with Bolt. His ears were flat and his tail was tucked between his legs. Half of his mind wanted to berate him for getting involved and tell him that whatever happened was his own fault. The other, more empathetic half, wanted to ask what was wrong and if necessary, provide some comfort. Because while he could be really cold and detached, he could be pretty damn nice if he wanted to be. He grabbed Andrew's shoulder and murmured to him. "What's up with Bolt?". Andrew reiterated the events back to him and he couldn't help feel a little sorry for him. 'Things really just don't work out for him do they?'

He gave a small sigh as he leant against the wall next to the screen. "Alright team, good work out there. Separation won't be setting off any IEDs soon." He turned to Andrew. Have you taken care of the... err... umm..." He stammered, unsure as to how he should phrase it. "Suspect?" Andrew offered. "Uh, yeah. Suspect." He mumbled while trying to not look at Bolt.

"Yes, he's down in Autopsy." Andrew nodded in the affirmative. "Well then! Get down there and get to work!" Andrew pulled himself out of his chair and rushed out the door, his footsteps quietening the further away he got.

(Andrew's POV)

He pulled on the latex gloves as he walked through the door, the familiar rubbery texture providing a comforting sensation. He looked down at the body bag covering the naked body of the former ex-soldier, before his gaze travelled upwards to meet his head, specifically the ugly wound on his forehead. He loved his job but there was a new video online he'd been really wanting to see; it was so tempting to just say 'Fatal Cerebral Damage due to Physical Trauma' and then run off and watch YouTube. He frowned and mentally berated himself.

This was his work. This was his life. Well, besides Video Games. And YouTube. And Pizza and Soft Drinks.

He let out a quiet chuckle as he picked up a Circular Saw and prepared to remove the Cranium to observe the Brain.

"Okay Andrew, it's the skin first: Epidermis, Dermis and Hypodermis. Then the Cranium, the Meninges: Dura Mater, Arachnoid and Pia Mater. Then, the Cerebrospinal Fluid. And Finally, the Brain itself." He smiled at his knowledge in a brief moment of Narcissism as he flicked the switch. The Saw buzzed to life.

(Bolt's POV)

He let out a small grunt as Preach strapped him into the Police K9 Vest. "Look, it ain't perfect, but it's the best we could come up wi' on short notice."

After, the Briefing, they had decided that they needed to do something to keep anyone from becoming suspicious of Bolt. That was when Sarah suggested a K9 Vest. It was quite a good idea, considering that it worked not only as a disguise, but it helped cover up the Mark on his side. Hopefully that would keep anyone from realising his true identity; although it was quite a miracle no-one had already.

But it was rather uncomfortable.

"Done!" Preach zipped up the vest and stepped back. Bolt shuffled around a bit, testing the vest. "Does it fit alright?" The Chief asked. He barked. The Chief grinned and crouched down next to him. "Good, good." He crooned, scratching him behind his left ear. He groaned in delight.

Gage let out a snort of amusement. "Alright, alright. We should probably get back to work right?" The Chief straightened. "Right. I'll call you if anything comes up." With that, the rest of Pursuit Force dispersed, all of them going off to do their own thing.

(Andrew's POV)

Just like he expected. The Frontal Lobe was relatively unharmed, while the Occipital Lobe was seriously damaged. Characteristic of an Automobile Accident.

"Case Closed." He carefully placed the Brain back inside the Cranium before replacing the rest of the layers that he had removed during the Autopsy.

He'd just pulled the zipper on the body bag when the door to the Autopsy Suite opened. He looked over to find Gage and Bolt entering, although he noticed that Bolt was wearing a Police K9 Vest.

"Hey guys. Say, what's Bolt doing wearing a Police Vest?" He asked. 'Although, he does look quite good in it.' Gage smiled. "Do you like it? It's a disguise - Sarah thought it up." He nodded affirmatively.

"Hey, uh, how'd the Autopsy go?" Gage enquired, changing the subject. There was a quiet whimper from Bolt. Gage flinched. "Oh! Sorry, just kind of slipped out."

"All done. Just have to file the report and that'll be the end of it." "Well then, just get one of the Patrolmen to do it. You can come with me, we'll go get Lunch." He cocked his head to one side and stared at him incredulously. "Your casual attitude never ceases to amaze me. Who's going to write up a report for me?" "Well, seeing you never leave the Morgue, you wouldn't know that most people would give their right kidney to do something as boring as paperwork for us." He blinked, to which Gage let out a laugh. "Come on, you need to get out more anyway. Say, you wanna come too Bolt?" Bolt barked.

"Great, let's go!" He said, pulling the Gloves off and throwing them into the bin.

(Agent Heart's POV)

A tall, well-built, Caucasian man in a Black Suit with Sunglasses. The spitting image of an FBI Agent. He sighed and ran a hand through his short crop of immaculately groomed brown hair while his other hand readjusted his sunglasses. He had heard reports that the rogue Superdog had been sighted in Capital City and Doctor Simon Pertwee may have, quite literally, crashed into him, if the Replacement Jord 450i waiting for him in the parking lot was anything to go by.

He stepped forwards and opened the door, only to nearly walk into two individuals walking out. One he immediately recognised as Officer Gage, the other he did not recognise. The one he did not recognise quickly and profusely apologised as he walked off with Gage but that was not what caught his attention. What caught his attention was the large dog walking with them. A large, white dog. It looked oddly like the Superdog but since it was wearing a K9 Vest, he could not observe of there was a Black Lightning Bolt on the dog's left side.

He quickly dismissed the thought. It had to simply be a similar-looking dog. Pursuit Force would never work with a wanted Fugitive. It was absurd.

His hand wrapped around the door handle. It is absurd.

'Is it not?'