Another story that it's been too darned long since i worked on. probably really rough work too. anyway, off we go!
I slipped into the briefing room with Bradley, resting both my hands on the butt stock to the old ACR as it dangled on its single point sling. I stuck to the back wall of the room, leaning on it while I patiently waited with the others. As far as I could tell, every officer on the squad, all three shifts even, were crowding the briefing room right now, leaving next to no room in the area. Several of them looked half awake, more than half dressed similarly to myself and Bradley, being in civilians over uniform.
"Alright people, now that everyone's here, let me get you all up to speed." The Lieutenant's voice immediately ceased all chatter in the room, shockingly fast in fact. "Approximately forty-five minutes ago, a bank heist was conducted in the Cornerian First bank on twenty-third street in district two. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't call for the mobilization of the entire district's police force or call for the aid of other districts. But these are not normal circumstances."
As he spoke, he put commands into the podium, the windows and lights in the room darkening as a screen built into the far wall kicked on. Displayed on it were dozens of images, all of the bank in question. There were clear signs of a firefight inside, with blast marks all over the walls of the building. There were at least two dozen corpses in the lobby, the bank's three guards among them. A lot of the blast marks looked odd though, like they were splatter or spray patterns instead of normal plasma blast impacts. One of the images had a small yellow glint in it, my eyes immediately drawn to it.
"Whoever launched this attack slaughtered every single person in the bank with no remorse. A bystander across the street also said these aggressors were fully armored and moved 'like soldiers'. I can't confirm or deny this, as the bank's camera system was destroyed, they even wiped the online backups. That's why district two is calling for support, and why I have everyone here. They have a large radius around the building locked down, it is believed the aggressors have not left the area yet. We are going in to help with the search."
I wasn't paying much attention to the Lieutenant's briefing myself, as the screen began cycling through blown up versions of the images. Every single corpse in the room had a blast mark into their head, a confirmation shot to make sure they were dead. I was waiting patiently for a particular image to come up, hoping to see the blown-up version of the small glint I had noticed.
"To maximize our chances of successfully apprehending these suspects, I want all of you to be wearing tac-plates, if you don't have at least a carbine, go draw one. I don't care if you have a carbine cert or not. Get one." The Australian Sheppard like man continued in his stern tone of voice, his eyes slowly scanning each officer in the room.
The screen finally changed to the image I was waiting for, studying it as much as I could. It was of one of the victims, a feline female. She had a clear blast mark on her abdomen, blackened and bloody. By her thigh was a small bright yellow cylinder, myself immediately recognizing it as a brass shell casing. It was too small to be a rifle casing, and the image wasn't taken at an angle you could see any identifying marks on the shell, so all it left me to go off of was its general shape and size. It looked to be a human pistol casing, and a specialized one at that. The feline's head had a small neat hole in her forehead, no burn marks around it. A mass of blood, some grey matter, and small white fragments were lying on the floor under her head, the image one of the more gruesome to have been shown.
"Now, I want you split into three teams by shift. Hawkins, you take the day shift, Hawthrone, take the swing shift, Jace, take the night shifters. Night shift will remain on standby as back up for the search teams, Day and swing will break into smaller teams to search the area we have been assigned. Do not hesitate to defend yourselves if you come under fire. I'm trusting the officers I just put in charge to organize their teams accordingly. Data on the search area is on your wrist coms. Keep me in the loop on your plans and routes. Dismissed."
My brain froze after hearing the L-T call out my name, staring blankly at the L-T in shock.
"Sir, why the hell are you putting Hawkins in charge of the day shift!? He's one of the newest Officers in the department!?" one of the other officers, not one I knew by name, spoke up, as clearly confused as I was.
"Simple. These guys moved like soldiers. Hawkins was one. Infantry to be precise, and is a retired Captain to boot. He knows how to lead, and he knows how to fight. Hawkins, we need those skills now." The L-T calmly spoke before disappearing into his office, all of the day shift turning to me.
Well fuck me I guess… he's got a point though.
"Alright, Brad, gimme a holo of the zone we got." My voice naturally slipped into the calm, commanding tone I had learned to use as a combat leader, making sure to clearly enunciate every syllable to perfection. As small of a thing as it was, it was crucial to make yourself seem in perfect control as a leader. It was one of many ways to inspire confidence in yourself by your subordinates, and one of the lessons that had stuck with me the most.
Bradley immediately did so, the image displaying a small section of warehouses and office buildings, several miles from the bank the attack occurred at.
"Alright, here's the game plan. Break into three teams, eight per, four vics per team. If we can wrangle some of the armored trucks for S-R-T, try to make them the lead vics. Who all is S-R-T certified?" It was though a switch had flipped in my head, startling even my own mind as a search plan was starting to form in my mind upon seeing the area map.
Only four members of the day shift raised their hands though, forcing me to fight letting a small curse out. "Alright, you two, take team two, you two, take team three. I don't care who jumps on which team. Plus up your med supplies with whatever you can too. These guys clearly don't play around, I don't see this going down without a firefight. We will search this zone street by street, alley by alley. I want everyone weapons hot and ready to shoot on sight. That's going to be your best bets of pulling this off. I don't care about actually capturing these guys. If you can, go for it, but do not risk your lives. A dead crook can't commit crimes, so do not hesitate to employ lethal force. If you do encounter the assailants and they don't notice your teams, call for back up before moving in, and do your best to cordon off the area and gain intel. Got it?" the group all nodded, shocking me as even the canine that spoke out to the captain agreed without a word. "Alright, let's get moving. We'll set up an exact search pattern once we're over there."
Bradley let out a small sigh as he eased the patrol car down the street, scanning the area around them as they drove. The streets were completely devoid of life, a PA system being used to get the local population to stay indoors. The shear violence to the bank heist was more than enough reason to.
"Hey Hawkins… what do you think our odds of finding these guys are?" Bradley nervously chattered that out, gulping as he finished. He was slowly scanning the area around them as he guided the vehicle, just hoping to not see a weapon being pointed at him from an alley or window.
"Pretty slim. There's almost fifteen other squads in the search area. Each squad is probably split up pretty similarly to ours, so we only have a small bit of the search area we're responsible for." Hawkins shrugged as he spoke, leaning back in the passenger seat as he scanned his own side of the street. He seemed totally relaxed about the whole affair, not even a twitch being visible. In fact, he seemed bored. That said, he was drumming his fingers on his weapon's butt stock, that small amount of anxiety having been visible from the moment he left his apartment, before they even knew what was going on.
Almost like that anxiety isn't because of this search…
"So uh, Hawk? Can I call ya Hawk?" Bradley stumbled as he remembered the conversation they had with the Lieutenant and Hawkins friend only a couple hours ago, realizing he already knew the answer to what he was going to ask him.
"Yes." Hawkins response was yet again bored and calm, to the point of uncaring.
He's gotta be anxious about that thing with his friend. They seemed really tight, so it probably really sucks for him to be here right now… Bradley let out a small sigh, trying to get his focus back on the task at hand. Watching the streets pass by without a soul in sight though was frankly the most boring and dull thing he could think of. Even so, the potential stakes at hand, as they could end up in a fight at any moment, was sending his brain into a wild tail chase.
"Bradley, there's a back alley coming up leading to some old warehouses. Go ahead and pull down it and stop us. I'll coordinate with the team on the other side of the alley to get it cordoned off, then me and you are going to scout it on foot, okay?" Hawkins had the map of their search area out, the alleyway in question highlighted in red, along with several dozen other areas. On the drive over, Hawkins had been picking out areas on the map he felt were the most likely points the robbers would hide based off the city layout and visibility of the locations. He had already explained to the other teams that they would be searching those areas on foot, as the patrol cars would make them far more noticeable. That, and some of the locations were not even accessible via cars anyway.
"Alright. First one for us I guess…" some of the other teams had already done the same, so far coming up completely empty-handed. He took a deep breath as the car approached the turn for the alley, trying to calm his heart and nerves, and fight the urge to chatter about something. Hawkins had been very insistent that Bradley keep the chattering to a minimum at least until they found the criminals. The reasoning being that it was excess noise.
Once they reached the alleyway, Bradley turned his car off the main street, the car's behind them staging to block the alley. As soon as they were in the alley, Bradley stopped the car and unlocked the doors. In that same instant, Hawkins had slipped the door open and slipped out of the vehicle, weapon up and raised as he took several steps away and behind a dumpster on his side. Bradley scooped up his Carbine and did the same, but he stayed behind the door to the car, bracing the carbine on the hinge.
One short and curt nod between them later and they slipped forward down the alleyway, weapons up as they stepped deliberately and slowly down the alley. The slow deliberate movement was utterly nerve racking for Bradley as he tried to focus on looking for any sign of a threat. More and more though, he found his mind fixated on the thought that at any moment now, they could be coming under fire with no warning. And given how sparse any form of cover was in the alley, they would be dead the moment plasma started flying. It wasn't a thought he liked having, but it was something that he couldn't deny the facts of.
We're boned, we're boned, we're boned… that thought was stuck on repeat in his mind, fighting the temptation to start muttering it to himself. As the pair approached the old warehouse ahead of them, Hawkins held up a closed fist, a silent signal for the pair to freeze on the spot, Bradley doing so the moment Hawkins had.
Bradley felt his already pounding heart start steadily accelerating as they quietly stood there, his eyes being the only part of him moving as he searched for any sign of movement. Nothing stirred in the alleyway, not even the wind being around to disrupt the world. With the area of the city being on lockdown, it was as if everything around him was dead, all of the sounds he was used to being around gone. So many of those sounds were things he was so used to that he barely realized they were normally there until now. The soft chatter of conversations, car horns, footsteps, the rumble of trains going by under the street, all of it, gone. It was like the entire city was now nothing but a ghost town.
A muffled plasma shot rang out in the alleyway, Bradley unable to hold in a sudden yelp as the sound reached him. Given the dimmed nature of the sound, he knew they hadn't just been shot at, but it scared him anyway.
Fuck, what the hell was that!? His already racing heart felt like it was about to burst, his heartbeat completely imperceptible to him now. He glanced at Hawkins, the human locking eyes with him with a small nod.
"All units, be advised, we just heard shots. Get S-R-T here on the double, over." Hawkins whispered voice was soft enough that if it wasn't for the earpiece in Bradley's ear, he would have been unable to understand a word the human said. After he finished, he used his flat hand to point at the smaller person sized door for the warehouse with a double chopping motion. The small door had a glass pane on the top half, allowing one to see into the building, though the window was visibly dark from here.
Bradley gulped, knowing Hawkins signal meant they were about to see if they could get in the building. The thought was a terrifying one, as they had no clue how many could be inside. He did understood why they needed to though. The more information they could get, the better the odds of the rest of the force would have of successfully apprehending the criminals, preferably with out conflict. But that meant getting closer to the building, and seeing if they could sniff a subtle way in.
He followed after Hawkins as the human cut across the alley, Bradley slipping up behind him. "Light's are out. There are skylights in the room, can't see beyond the door though. Looks like there's boxes blocking the view." Hawkins whispered that over his shoulder as he slowly peaked into the window, clearing what he could see through it. "No one on the other side either." Hawkins slowly eased the handle on the door down and eased the door open with the speed of a racing snail. The process was beyond nerve wreaking, the subtle rasp of the door hinges seeming impossibly loud.
Fuck! Why is he going inside! There's a million ways this shit could go sideways!? Bradley gulped as he watched Hawkins slip through the door, his deliberate steps almost silent. Bradley did his best to mimic that quiet movement as he followed him through.
The other side of the door was almost pitch black compared to the day outside, the only light in the room coming from a series of filthy skylights along the center of the roof. With the boxes and crates stacked near the door in a disorganized jumble, there was no clear view of the rest of the warehouse. Initial glances at the general state of disarray showed the building as having not been actively used by who ever owned it in a while. Several of the massive shelves visible beyond the boxes were knocked over on the adjacent shelves, trash scatter about the floor along scraps of clothing and piles of blankets. If Bradley had to guess, the building had been turned into a shanty by homeless people. But not a soul was in sight.
"Why the hell would you insist on meeting now anyway!? The whole damn CPD is out for your asses!" despite the visible lack of people, he could easily hear that shouted voice. Who ever the speaker was, he was clearly furious with who he was talking to.
"You don't need to worry about the Police anymore. Even if they find us, they are no threat. The footage I sent you should more than prove that to you." This second voice was calm and faint, only audible because of the near silence of the room. "My little demonstration should also suffice in that regard. The M-Thirty-Two you just shot my man with is, after all, a very powerful piece of hardware. And yet, it did nearly nothing to him, did it?" there was something unsettling about the man's calmness, much like how Hawkins had seemed so far.
The pair slowly crept around the boxes and crates, staying near the wall of the building as they searched for the sources of the voices, Bradley finding it hard to focus on checking corners and blind spots because of being able to hear them.
"Yeah, true. But who's to say you don't just show me the good stuff just to give me the fakes. You don't seem to know how this business works, fuckface. I don't just buy shit just cause you say so, nor at the price you demand. I pay for shit how I want to. And if I don't, I'm just going to take it. That's how this is gonna work." The first speaker snarled that out, several voices chiming in affirmatives along with the sounds of several plasma weapons whining to life.
"Oh? You think such petty and small minded threats will have an effect on me?" the man's words were followed by a loud and mirthful laugh, almost sounding psychotic.
Hawkins slowed to a stop near the edge of one of the crates, just before pointing across a gap in the crates to the other side. Judging by how he followed the action by gently setting the barrel of his weapon on the crate, aiming over with the stock braced into his shoulder, Bradley guessed he had eyes on the speakers. Bradley gulped before darting across, dropping to a crouch and bracing his weapon against the side of the crate. He did his best to conceal as much of him as he could as he did so.
From here he could finally see the people speaking, and about a dozen and a half others. Most of them were primates and lizards with an assortment of different plasma weapons in hand and at the ready. None were really being pointed at targets though. The obvious leader of the group of thugs was a canine, his short muzzle and wrinkled skin covered in scars. That said, the man was wearing a fine suit, and wearing it well. It made him stand out compared to the rest of his more casually dressed compatriots, though none of them matched the ragged looks the average street criminal had. Each was wearing long pants and a collared shirt of some sort, tucked into the pants. Some even had military combat plates on over their chests. Whoever these criminals were, they were clearly professionals.
Across from them was only two people. One was a canine by Bradley's best guess, but his features were hidden under a full suit of armor, the material having a slight purple gleam to it's black finish. The armor itself looked to be made up of very thin overlapping plates, maybe a millimeter thick at most. The design heavily reminded Bradley of the armors in the fantasy books and movies that would occasionally catch his eye. The only thing betraying how modern it was being the absolute precision in its design as well as the obvious optical lenses over the eyes of the armor, bulking up the helmet over the face. Even the tail was completely hidden in armor plates.
Next to and in front of the armored canine was lean and sharp featured human, his dark black hair matching his black trench coat, slacks visible beneath the coat. He stood with his arms clasped behind his back, almost like a military general would as he began to walk toward the suited canine.
"I fully understand how this transaction is going to go. Either A: you agree to my generous price of one point five mil per unit, or B: I walk away with all of my merchandise, either mutually, or over the corpses of those I currently see before me." He spoke calmly and with a broad smile, stopping only inches from the suited canine. Several of the other member's of the canine's group raised their weapons, those not sighting in on the human and his armored colleague getting into ready stances. They all showed almost military or police levels of competence in their stances and grips.
Fuck this is bad… we need to leave. Bradley glanced over at Hawkins with that thought, hoping his partner was as scared as he was. For a moment, Bradley thought the human was as scared as he was, as Hawkins was visibly shaking even from several meters away. The slight upward curl to the corner of his mouth and the way his grip visibly tensed on his weapon belied otherwise, Bradley hearing a pair of faint clicks as Hawkins rifle was flipped off safe.