Author's Note: I haven't read any of the comics continuing LoK after Book 4. For the sake of this story, they don't exist.
The Chief of Police sits behind her desk, working under the lamplight. Shiro Shinobi chatters with patented exuberance over the radio in the background.
"...giving one last hurrah for your pleasure and mine, none other than Bolin will grace the pro-bending stage once more…"
Knock-Knock
The Chief's pen pauses above a report. "Not now."
Knock-Knock
She shakes her head. They must not have heard her.
"You can wait," Lin mutters under her breath.
They don't.
The handle is wrenched down and her office doors swings open. Lin's eyes snap up, lips working into the shape of snarl. She finds a male officer standing in the doorway, dressed in metalbending armour. He lets go of the door handle and interlocks his fingers in front of him.
There is a large envelope tucked into his belt.
Lin's curse dies in her mouth.
"Another one?"
The man nods, closing the door behind her. "It was just recovered, Chief."
She gets up from behind her desk. Lin takes the envelope, shoving a finger under the glued flap and sawing it back and forth. Once open, she tips out the contents.
A newspaper clipping falls into her hand. Lin's jaw slackens as she reads it, the radio blaring at her back.
"...and gentlemen, there is only one place to be in Republic City tonight!"
The Chief's eyes snap to her officer's. "Gather all available units, everything else is off the table."
"Orders?" the man asks.
"Get to the Arena," Lin replies, reaching for the door. "There's been an attack."