Chapter II
Zach got up from his lacquered, mahogany desk, glancing down at his watch as he pushed his chair in and grabbed his jacket. After slinging his bag over his shoulder, he left the office space, and headed down the hall to the lobby. He was ending his work day early, about to grab his gear, and was going to stand by for his ride to the operation; following his orders down to the letter.
SEPTEMBER 25th
4:23 PM
The bank closed at 6 PM, meaning that he was about to enjoy a caffeine-induced overnight stakeout of the building, complete with waiting through absolutely nothing until a couple of goons rolled up with a time machine. Just thinking about how he was supposed to deal with the perps was making his head hurt; even if he arrested them, their past-selves could just jump forward through time and breeze past their arrest, effectively getting off scot-free.
Of course, if he just destroyed their time machine, that probably wouldn't be nearly as much of an issue, but only time would tell.
He passed by one of his coworkers who held the door open for him, to whom Zach issued a quick nod. After a quick ride down the elevator, crossing the lobby, and navigating through a couple of hallways, he found himself in front of a thick steel door. There was a small window at about head-height on the hinged metal slab, laden with small wire in a criss-cross pattern. Just to the right of the door near the handle, a small black rectangle with a red LED was mounted to the wall. The shepherd grabbed the badge attached to the lanyard around his neck, and held it up to the scanner. The LED flashed green, and an audible click came from the door frame, allowing him inside.
With a firm grip on the handle and a pull on the door, Zach was in the equipment locker room. The majority of the room was barren, save for the lockers lining the walls and a few of his coworkers who were standing on the polished concrete floor. He walked to his right and approached one of the metal lockers, one that had the number four engraved on the door. After spinning the combination lock a few times, the locker opened to reveal a place for him to put his belongings, which he did. After setting his bag in the locker and closing it, he walked to a counter in the corner of the room.
Behind the counter stood a black hawk who was stationed at the computer, typing away at the keyboard while they waited for someone to come along and allow them to do their assigned job. Further behind the avian was a small hallway, with several rows of more lockers containing riot gear, firearms, non-lethal grenades, and other combat equipment. The bird looked up as Zach approached, giving a friendly smile as he recognized the dog in front of him.
"Hey Zach, what brings you down here," he greeted the hawk as he opened a program on the computer.
"Not much, Andy. I get the privilege of staking out a bank tonight," he replied.
The hawk behind the counter was someone that Zach had known for his entire time on the force, as they'd become fast friends during his training in the police academy. Countless fist-fights and bar nights had made them thicker than thieves, always looking out for one another by busting each other's chops.
After the bird finished typing, he got up and went to the back, unlocked a locker, and came back with an armful of gear. The first was a bulletproof vest, adorned with emboldened CCPD lettering on the back. The second was a helmet, with a pair of night-vision goggles mounted just above the front edge. After he donned the vest and helmet, the avian came back with a combat rifle and several magazines, which Zach slipped into the pockets on the vest.
"Don't go wasting my time by dying out there," the hawk joked as he turned back to his computer. Zach gently picked the rifle up off the counter, being careful to keep it pointed towards the ground; even if there weren't any rounds chambered.
"No promises," the shepherd called back as he left the locker room.
He opened the heavy steel door, hearing it lock with another audible click as it shut behind him. The shepherd went over to a nearby side door, resting up against the wall as he watched out of the window. Outside was a large parking garage, with a concrete covering overhanging the driveway. A few leaves blew past in the summer breeze, lazily fluttering about as the wind carried them to an unknown destination.
'Tonight's gonna be a doozy.'
-[TW]-
Two hours had passed.
After waiting at the precinct for around twenty minutes, a large armored black van pulled into the carpark leading out of the side door. When Zach climbed inside, he found an empty seat in the back for him among the others, as well as a place to drop his equipment. The two hours or so that followed was taken up mostly by a much needed nap, as well as a bit of watching the outside fly by from the small, darkly tinted windows.
After he'd been dropped off at the bank, the other agents he'd be working with finally showed up. They were only given an hour or so to set everything up, leaving Zach with a few minutes to think before the bank closed. Just trying to wrap his head around the concept of how time travel could be used to bypass events made his head hurt again. The perps could've already known they were there, and picked a different date to strike, or maybe they didn't know and were going to fall right into their sting? What if they just jumped right past the sting operation and looted the place anyway? What if-
"Ey, it's Amana, right?"
The voice of one of the FIB men derailed Zach's runaway train of thought, bringing him back into the present. The voice had a particular accent to it, like that of someone you'd find on the east coast of Corneria City. He looked to his right, spotting a bulldog sporting a similar set of gear as him, though emblazoned with the markings of the Cornerian Federal Investigation Bureau.
"Call me Zach, and you?"
"Name's Tony. I'm s'posed to be your partner on the sting."
'So we're doubling up, then. Not a bad idea.'
He looked down at Tony's now outstretched arm, eyeing a silver cylinder in his hand. He motioned the can towards him ever so slightly, silently requesting that he accept the offer. Zach reached out and took the can of energy drink, eyeing the pale purple coloring on the label.
'Beryllium Blast.'
The drink was something that Zach had been accustomed to; many of his late-night study sessions throughout high school and college were fueled by can after can of the watermelon-flavored beverage. Giving Tony a quick nod, he pulled open one of the empty pockets on his tactical vest, slipping the can in before he snapped the metal button shut.
"Sounds good. How're we setting up?"
The bulldog set a black tactical gear box on one of the nearby tables, before popping the latches off with a smirk. The shepherd looked inside, spotting several small cameras, as well as a rugged-looking tablet.
"Bugging. Nice," he remarked as Tony shut the crate. The brooklyn bulldog grabbed the crate and started heading towards the area behind the teller counter. Not having much else to do, Zach followed Tony back behind the counter, before turning the corner to see a large metal door, about the size of the lab entrance back at Space Dynamics. A cat around an inch shorter than him was standing to the left of the door, leaning back against the wall. They had stripes of brown and black speckled all along their body, with a patch of white at each limb. The shepherd watched as the cat approached him, pulling a small plastic card from her breast pocket.
The feline tapped the card against a dark rectangle on the wall, causing the panel to emit a small beep before flashing green.
"Here, you'll need this to get in and out. Good luck tonight," she said as she passed the card to Zach, before walking past them towards the exit.
The huge metal door rumbled ever so slightly before the gargantuan arms on the inside pushed the two halves outward, revealing the chamber inside. A fairly short, yet wide hallway was inside, with two long tables running down the left and right sides. Lined up neatly along each table lay stacks of crisp, sorted bank notes, now exposed to the two hounds inside. Up on the ceiling, running parallel to the tables were a series of vents, supplying the vault with the same chilled air as the rest of the building.
Tony pushed some of the stacks of cash aside, before setting the crate down on the table with a thud. As the bulldog opened the container, Zach reached inside, picking up a couple of the small cameras in each hand.
"How should I go about hiding these," he asked.
Tony pulled a roll of black duct tape from the crate and slid it across the table over to him, before he grabbed a camera of his own and picked up the tape.
"We'll be coverin' up everything except for the lens with this tape," he replied. "You'll wanna find a spot that's not easily noticeable, and won't get uncovered easily."
Zach nodded in response.
"Go and find a few places out in the main room that you could hide the cameras in, I'll come by and tape 'em up for ya," the bulldog said.
Zach agreed, before leaving the vault and rounding the corner. The other two agents from the FIB were in there as well, setting up microphones, motion detectors, thermal cameras, and other bugging equipment.
After around five minutes of scouting out different locations, the shepherd finally settled on a few spots. One was on the underside of a teller's desk, another peeking through the fins of an air vent, (he had to unscrew the entire cover just to get it in there) and the underside of a swivel chair. Eventually, Tony had come out of the vault, and helped Zach tape up the cameras.
Just then, he remembered the tall can of energy drink in his pocket. Deciding he might as well get the caffeine-haze started sooner than later, he pulled the can out of the pocket, hooking a claw over the tab. After an audible crack and the hiss that followed, Zach took a quick gulp of the sugary drink. The distinct, sweet watermelon flavor carried by a sea of carbonated bubbles sent him on a little nostalgia trip; he and Andy had downed so many cans of the stuff that they'd practically waded through them in their old dorm room.
Next came the discussion of positioning, destroying the track of the shepherd's train of thought once again. Zach and Tony were to be making sweeps of the building, while the other two checked the hidden cameras for anything suspicious. Every hour, they'd rotate so that the other group could stretch their legs or take a break.
Despite all the planning, the gear, and the multiple cans of energy drink that he'd downed, Amana still couldn't shake his bad feeling about this, a bad feeling that continued to eat away at him. Could all this setting up be for nothing?
"Hey, Zach."
The shepherd snapped out of his internal ramblings, quickly looking up to see Tony had returned from setting up the last camera. The bulldog was carrying the tactical crate, jerking his head towards the corner. Zach's eyes quickly followed Tony's motioning towards the corner, spotting the cooler with the rest of the energy drinks in it.
"Mind grabbing the cooler for me?"
The black and tan hound nodded, walking over to the corner and studying the cooler for a brief moment. A small button was embedded in the handle, which allowed the telescoping handle to extend when it was pushed. Zach unfolded it, dragging the cooler behind him by its small black wheels. He followed the bulldog down a hallway and around a corner, before arriving at a metal security door, similar to the kind that led into the weapons cache back at the precinct. Tony tapped the base of the door with his boot a few times, before the door swung open to reveal the two other agents inside.
The security room was fairly small, just big enough for the four of them to fit inside with a bit of wiggle-room left over. To Zach's right was a desk bolted to the wall, with a tower computer underneath and an array of monitors taking up the space behind the tabletop. To his left, a couple of standard-issue rifles were propped up against the wall, similar to the one holstered across his and Tony's torsos. The two sitting in the room were a couple of felines, one of which was a gray, black, and white tabby, typing away at the keyboard on the desk. The other was a cheetah, watching the other cat in bewilderment as his digits flew across the keyboard, hitting each key at a pace unmatched with pinpoint accuracy.
"Damn Rymden, how the hell can you type that fast," asked the cheetah. His accent seemed to be similar to that of Tony's, although a little more subtle.
"Well Dean, I'd say it has something to do with me spending a pretty good chunk of high school in front of a computer screen for seven hours a day."
"Hey guys, Zach here'll be workin' on the sting with us tonight," the Brooklyn Bulldog greeted the two as he stepped in through the door, the shepherd tailing behind him. The cheetah looked up, running his eyes over the dog as if he were sizing him up.
"Hey," he said simply.
Zach replied in a similar fashion.
"Name's Dean; Dean Ellta. Yours?"
"Zach Amana," the shepherd replied, reaching his hand out and quickly clapping it against Dean's. Their hands met at around a 45-degree angle, the low clap that followed signaling the telltale sign of a 'universal' hand-shake known among most of the male population.
"That's Rymden Stekpannan. He's a huge-ass nerd, but he's got a sure shot," the cheetah explained, jerking his head toward the feline at the desk. The light gray tabby turned around in the swirly chair, shooting Dean a flat look before he greeted Zach. His voice sounded like it was a mix of different places, as if he had a heritage up north combined with the faintest twang of the south.
"I'm assuming you already met Tony?"
"Sure did," the bulldog replied, taking the cooler from its spot at Amana's feet and laying it up against the wall. After propping the insulated plastic box up against the wall, the hound grabbed a can of the energy drink and popped the tab, downing a bit of it in one swig.
"Command says you got promise in your precinct, you ever been in a sting op before?"
"Sort of," Zach replied as he began setting his gear down, unsure of where the spotted feline was going with this.
"What do you mean by 'sort of?'" Dean inquired, squinting his eyes a little.
Amana shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to piss off the FIB agents who were all now looking at him uneasily.
"I mean, I've done a couple, just not one with stakes as high as this one."
Dean eyed him for a few more seconds, before giving a small shrug. To Zach's relief, the others followed suit.
"At least you got some experience under your belt. Try not to get your head ventilated by a perp tonight, we barely know what we're dealing with here," the cheetah replied before going back to watching Rymden.
'You don't know the half of it.'
-[TW]-
"Fuckin' hell, man. Are these perps even gonna show up?"
Dean leaned back in his chair and let out a quick, frustrated sigh, glancing up at the wall of monitors that shined down on his comrade's gray-furred face. They'd already burned through nearly six straight hours of waiting around for something to happen, watching around every corner and hallway throughout their rotations in and out of the office.
Rymden leaned back in the swirly chair, letting out a sigh of his own as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"They ain't making it easy on us, that's for sure," he replied as the cheetah grabbed a can of the energy drink, popped the lid, and took a swig of it. Dean licked his lips as he lowered the can from his face, eyeing the drink with approval as it managed to last them that long.
"Pass me one of those, would ya," the cat asked. Dean obliged him, leaning over and grabbing another can before tossing it over to Rymden. The gray tabby caught it in one hand while his other rested underneath his chin, elbow planted on the tabletop beside him.
As he popped the tab and took a sip, a few short knocks came from the door. Rymden glanced down at his watch, noting the time on the digital display.
SEPTEMBER 26th
12:01 AM
The door opened revealing Tony and Zach, both of whom were ready for the end of their rotation. The two felines got up from their seats, Rymden leaning back and popping a few vertebrae as they moved to grab their gear from the opposite end of the room. The shepherd passed him a plastic card, the one they'd passed back and forth between each shift to get into the vault.
The cheetah passed him his rifle before the two of them filed out of the room. They clipped their magazines into place as the door shut behind them, the low hum of the energy rifles charging up marking the beginning of another shift. As far as Rymden was concerned, another hour where they didn't turn up with anything would be ideal, though Dean seemed pretty dead-set on taking someone down before they left in the coming morning.
His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as he briefly glanced at Dean. The cheetah had always been energetic for as long as he'd known him, always eager to "get shit done," as he'd tell him. Dean really was a one-of-a-kind person in Rymden's eyes. Pretty much every cheetah he'd met in the past was always shy, timid, and kept to themselves. Dean, however, was just the polar opposite of that. If there was a crowd, he'd be having a blast among the party, always eager to meet new people.
"You think they're even gonna show up tonight?"
The two of them had been walking towards the vault to check it, after which they'd split up and each start their own patrol of the building. After travelling down a corridor, through the lobby and around a few corners, they'd arrived at the vault in the back. Rymden stepped up to the vault's access panel, pulling the keycard out of his pocket as the other feline replied.
"Honestly, I doubt it. At any rate, they'll probably…" Dean trailed off towards the end of his sentence, ears twitching ever so slightly. Rymden was about to insert the card and start the audible process of opening the vault door, until Dean pushed his hand carrying the card aside, stopping him. The tabby seemed to get the message, quickly shoving the card into his pocket. He clicked the radio strapped to the shoulder of his vest twice, trying to get the attention of the other two friendlies in the building.
The two of them sat there completely silent, listening for anything out of the ordinary. For a few moments, nothing was heard, until…
The faintest of breathing and movement could be heard, coming from somewhere in the lobby.
As if to confirm their suspicion, Rymden heard two clicks return from his radio.
Someone was in the building.
'How the hell did they get in!?'
All informalities were thrown out the window in that very moment, as right now was go time. Slowly and quietly, they both unclipped the vest hooks from their rifles, allowing them to handle the guns freely. Rymden gave Dean a small nod, then watched the cheetah go into a half-kneel as he began to move towards the lobby. The gray tabby followed close behind him, doing the same as they both peeked around the corner into the lobby, guns raised and ready to unload a chunk of plasma into whatever poor soul decided to rob this bank.
As they rounded the corner, their eyes darted to the dimly lit hallway leading to the security office. The tail end of a large figure was headed down the corridor, accompanied by quiet footsteps. As the two cats crossed the lobby towards the hallway, the sounds of more footfalls became much more apparent, and they weren't from the same place.
"At least one intruder approaching the office, more hostiles elsewhere," the tabby whispered into his radio.
"Copy," came a hushed reply.
As per operating procedure, Tony and Zach had likely already cut the lights to the security office, making sure no light could escape from the small slits around the windowless office door.
Dean jerked his furred head in the vague direction of the vault door. Rymden raised his right hand, curling his thumb and index finger while leaving his middle through pinky fingers straight up, signalling his understanding. The two silently moved toward the vault door, the both of them already knowing to take a different path than the one they came. After a minute or so of moving silently through the bank, they came to a doorway opposite the vault.
As they looked down past the opening, they saw four figures huddled into a small circle.
The first, a gray wolf with a white streak running down his forehead and past his muzzle. The man carried a presence of power and imposing; someone who probably led the entire group. Standing on one side of the wolf was a tall, black panther, with a red rose emblem printed onto his uniform. Opposite the panther was a fat, stubby pig, one who's breathing was the most audible out of the rest. Lastly, a monkey a little shorter than the panther stood closest to the vault door, fiddling with some device. They were all dressed in similar flight outfits, each of them also wearing a black, watch-like wristband.
They all seemed to be looking frustratedly at the primate as he tried to put the blame on the device he was holding, or at least that's what the conversation sounded like to the two cats they were unaware of.
"Damnit, Andrew! You had one job!" The lupine's deep, gruff voice suggested a long history of smoking and possible alcoholism, one that definitely sounded like a leader for a group of thugs like this.
The shrill voice of the monkey came next, although hushed as if he knew his voice carried a fair bit of distance.
"Look, it's not my fault that buildings remodel themselves! I sent us forward when we were already in the vault two decades ago, how was I supposed to know they'd shrink the door back?!"
The wolf still seemed unsatisfied with the monkey's protests, instead choosing to shrug him off with a scowl on his muzzle.
"Whatever. Just make yourselves comfortable while that thing cools down," the wolf muttered as they dispersed their group huddle.
Wanting to keep stealthy, Dean hooked the rifle back onto his tactical vest. He reached down to his belt, pulling out a pistol with a long attachment on its barrel. Rymden followed suit, jerking his head back towards the way they came. Dean got the idea, and followed him into the hallway surrounding the lobby.
The two were now creeping down the corridor, Rymden at a half-kneel and Dean following at full height behind him. As they approached the corner, the wheezy, sweaty voice of the hog rang out from nearby.
"Hey Wolf, wait up for me. I gotta take care of somethin'.'"
They stopped, having finally reached the corner. Just across from them was the entrance to the bathrooms, leaving Rymden to put two and two together. He let out a frustrated sigh, hearing heavy footfalls approaching from around the corner. With his heart pounding in his ears, the gray and white feline shot a glance at Dean, who gave him a small nod.
The two huddled up against the wall as they watched the fat pig turn the corner, thankfully going into the restroom opposite from them. Rymden silently went after him, catching the door and holding it open for Dean as he slipped inside. Once the two were in, he let the door close normally, and their soon-to-be first catch of the night was none the wiser. There was a short wall dividing the entrance and the main area, giving the two felines the perfect place to lie in wait for their prey.
Dean stood at the edge of the tiled wall, pointing a finger up in front of him to signal Rymden to wait. After a short while, there was a faint trickling sound, followed by the sound of a urinal flushing. Rymden watched as Dean counted down on his fingers from five, ending when he dropped his fist, holstered his gun, and pushed off the wall.
The cheetah leapt from their cover, rushing the swine who barely had any time to react. Without hesitation, Dean twisted his body as he leaned on one foot, bringing the other up against Pigma's jaw. His boot connected with the hog's face, leaving the pig to stumble backward.
Pigma hit the back of the bathroom wall with a resounding thud, staring down the cheetah who'd dare attack him. Snarling, the fat hog rushed the cheetah, who was only smirking. With a roar, Pigma tackled the cheetah to the filthy floor.
Dean was able to slap out once the hog had tackled him to the floor, before he pulled his large weight back and loaded it all into a punch. Dean quickly jerked his head to the side, letting the pig's knuckles slam into the grimy tile, shattering a small bit of porcelain beneath his fist. Dean took the opportunity to lock his ankles around the pig's girthy back before hooking his arm around Pigma's punching arm. At the same time, Dean's right arm quickly snaked around the back of Pigma's head and pulled it down, slamming his nose right onto his bicep. Pigma began to feebly try and break out by using his free arm to elbow the cheetah's ribs, but that plan was blocked once Dean figured out what was going on. The cheetah quickly opened up his ankles before shooting his hip out to the left and locking up his ankles again. All Pigma was able to gently elbow now was his opponent's shin.
In less than three seconds, Dean had gotten Pigma in a painful spot. Foolishly, the hog tried to wrench his pained punching arm out of Dean's grasp. Dean smirked as he let the pig free his arm just a little bit, before he quickly grabbed the hog's wrist with his left hand and hooked his right arm just beneath the pig's elbow. Even though his head was free, Pigma had nowhere to go. Kicking and squealing, Pigma tried to pull away only to be held in place by Dean, who had moved his crossed ankles from around his back to just barely around his waist.
Now, the cheetah could have just stopped here and allowed Rymden to slap on the cuffs. But he wasn't done. Not just yet. This perp was gonna get what he deserved. With a hungry smirk, Dean manipulated the pig's arm skyward before he rapidly rolled his body towards the hog.
The elbow suddenly bent at an unnatural angle, before the joint gave way, and a sickening crack was heard throughout the bathroom.
...Followed by an even louder scream.
-[TW]-
Wolf O'Donnell was sitting in the back room, shooting the occasional glare at Andrew as he watched the monkey fiddle with the small hexagonal device. Truth be told, he still had no respect for the ape; Pigma as well for that matter. At any rate, they were just cannon fodder ever since he picked them up before their well-deserved deaths. Of course, they were too shortsighted to see the resentment from the rest of the team, and were just as gullible as ever.
The lupine's ears pricked towards a loud yell, one that he recognized as Pigma's. He knew what the hollering from the hog meant; he wasn't even really surprised that a sting had been set up. If anything, it'd probably just be yet another kill to add to his tally. It probably wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Pigma, though… He didn't really care if the swine got a bullet through his brain or not. Hell, he'd even convinced Pigma that he'd be able to cheat death in every way possible. Only catch was he'd probably be leaving Pigma behind, even Andrew if it came to that.
With a grunt, Wolf got up from the comfy leather chair behind the teller's counter, gripping his blaster from its magnetic holster on his belt. He looked to his right and saw Panther, jerking his head toward where Pigma had gone. The black cat got the idea, giving the lupine a quick nod as he got up to follow his leader. O'Donnell thumbed the safety off his blaster as they neared the bathroom; the soft hum of the weapon charging up being the only noise aside from their footsteps.
The two quickly approached the bathroom door, guns drawn. Pigma's sounds of struggling drew nearer and nearer, becoming more and more clear to their ears until it suddenly became quiet. Wolf and Panther stopped in front of the door, still pointing their barrels past the entrance to the restrooms indented in the plain, white wall.
On the other side of the door, Rymden and Dean were practically tiptoeing, moving as quietly as their heavy-duty combat boots would allow. The hog that was just apprehended lay face-down on the bathroom floor, now completely knocked out from an energy rifle on its stun setting. Sure, the ethics of sending someone unconscious onto a disgusting bathroom floor was a little questionable, but it shut him up quick. That, and Rymden was still shooting looks at Dean for going a little farther than he probably should have.
Rymden's heart was once again pounding in his ears as he and his friends kept their rifles drawn, poised towards the heavy door in front of them. The two of them stood there, ready to strike at any moment as they knew their adversaries were right outside. Slowly, Rymden raised his hand, making sure Dean could see it. The gray, white, and black colored cat began putting his fingers down one by one, counting down from five to what would be their second strike of the night.
Seconds felt like minutes as Rymden counted from five to zero, though something interrupted his countdown. From across the building, sounds of struggling echo across the empty halls, causing both of their ears to perk up. Then, to their relief, they heard footsteps running away from the outside of the door, towards where the sound of something heavy colliding with flesh emanated from.
The two cats quickly peered out of the bathroom and around the corner, seeing the wolf and panther from earlier running towards the security office. As they moved to pursue them, they saw a green chameleon of fairly short stature being shoved back around the corner towards the office. A large, blue plastic cooler landed next to him on its side, causing a comically large quantity of purple and white soda cans to roll out onto the floor. The chameleon grunted as he quickly got up and fought back, swiping a large blade through the air. Dean and Rymden trained their sights on the two perps running to their comrade's aid, aiming to shoot them in the legs to disable them.
However, just before they squeezed both of their triggers, the black cat flipped around and fired two shots, just barely striking the agents in the head. Dean dodged and continued pursuing, firing back as Rymden ducked behind the corner back by the bathroom. He caught the tail end of what Dean was saying, telling him to circle back around to form a pincer attack.
The light gray tabby bolted down the back hallway, before turning the corner to see the monkey fiddling with the device more frantically as he tried to get his blaster ready at the same time. Further away from him, across the lobby, he saw Tony and Zach fighting the perps back. Taking one target at a time, Rymden glanced down at the side of his rifle to make sure it was still on stun, and fired a couple shots at the simian near the vault door. One of the shots connected, though the ape seemed to still be awake and kicking. The tabby sat there, kneeling from behind the corner as the monkey dropped the device and grabbed his blaster, rambling something on about "the might of the great Andross."
Though, the perp never finished his tirade, as it was cut short by the FZZZT of another stun shot leaving Rymden's barrel. The simian slumped over, allowing the strange device to roll onto the floor next to him. The cat quickly moved over and picked up the device, before slipping it into one of the pockets on his vest. A pair of laser cuffs came next, keeping the perp's arms and legs bound together in order to prevent whoever they were from escaping. He didn't have time to inspect his catch nor the device, as there were more pressing matters to tend to. The sounds of struggling and shouting continued to ring out throughout the lobby, continually being masked by the distinct noise of laser fire.
"Rymden, get 'em offa' me!"
Stekpannan rushed to his cheetah-friend's aid, quickly peeking over the teller's counter. Dean was ducking behind a desk, caught in a cross-fire between the wolf, the panther, and the chameleon. He could already see a couple shots pinging off of Dean's combat armor, though it wouldn't hold for long. A few more laser shots were whizzing towards the criminals from the security office, the source of which he presumed to be Zach and Tony defending the office. The nearest target was the lupine, hunched over a trash can with a marble housing. The chameleon was nowhere to be seen, while the panther was a fairly clear shot away from him.
Without a moment's notice, Rymden raised his rifle and aimed down the sights, lining up the panther in between the crosshairs and the raised pegs at the end of his barrel. Just as he squeezed the trigger, however, a scaly arm reached around his neck and pulled him down. The cat stumbled, his leg being caught by the chameleon's planted boot as the rifle clattered to the floor. The scaly figure shoved Rymden onto the carpeted concrete floor, grappling the cat as he tried to pull at one of his vest pockets. The pocket in question had a hexagonal protrusion, resulting from the mysterious device that he'd picked up earlier.
Regardless of what it was, Rymden couldn't let them get the device back. The chameleon grabbed a black handle holstered onto his upper arm, flicking his wrist down to reveal a sizable karambit; around six or so inches in length. The matte metallic handle was looped around his index finger, spinning around a few times before being stopped in place by the grip of his three back digits. Just as the reptile began to leap for him, Rymden rolled out of the way, doing his best to dodge both the crazed chameleon and the laser shots directed at him. The two continued to struggle against each other throughout the exchange of blaster fire across the lobby, both scoring punches, kicks, and cuts on each other.
The cat clambered back onto his feet, only to be pulled down onto the ground by his leg. Using his situation to his advantage, he leaned into his adversary's pull and pointed his shoulder at the perp, body slamming the chameleon backward. Without thinking, Rymden grabbed the blaster pistol from his holster and brought it up, aiming it right at the reptile's pointed head. As he began to squeeze the trigger for the second time, a stun shot flew through the air, striking his pistol and travelling up his arm.
The excruciating pain caused him to let out a yelp, his arm went limp as he let go of his gun and did his best to fight the electricity searing through his veins. To his chagrin, the chameleon took this opportunity to capitalize on his weakness, lunging forward and slicing into the pocket on his vest. The hexagonal device fell out as Rymden's vision began to falter, too dazed to stand up straight anymore. As the gray tabby slumped down against the teller's counter, a voice rang out among the chaos.
"Oh no, you don't!"
It was Zach, sliding across a table in a rather flashy and unnecessary move, dodging the other perps who were trying to get a hold of him, and shoving the boot of his rifle into the chameleon's back before he could react. The device went into the air, with Zach grabbing it and tossing it over to Dean. The cheetah held his hands out, reaching up to catch the hexagon when a shiny black talon knife sailed through the air, expertly thrown right at it. Ellta watched in confusion, and then shock as the hilt end of the blade struck the device right in the center, hitting a bright, blinking purple button.
Dean's shock turned to horror as the device fell to the ground, a loud beep emanating from the metallic hexagon. A bright light radiated throughout the bank lobby, before three purple ropes of light and electricity snaked out from the hexagon's center. Zach, Tony, and Dean couldn't even keep their eyes open wide enough to get a clear shot, not to mention Rymden who was barely conscious by the counter. The purple beams connected to the chunky black wristbands of three of the perps, before an even brighter light flew in every direction, followed by a clap as loud as thunder.
The light faded, as did the sound, and all that remained was a small pile of a metallic substance where the device had landed. It was hot enough to be incandescent, until it cooled to a faded silver-y purple color, barely lit by the fluorescent security lights above them.
The perps were gone.
-[TW]-
"-Ngh! Damnit!"
Dean's continued stream of swearing echoed throughout the bank lobby as he clambered to his feet, using the desk he was hiding behind to help hold himself up. A few laser shots had actually managed to penetrate his armor, one of which even grazed his leg. Tony emerged from the corner leading into the hallway towards the office, quickly crossing the scorched carpet and tile floor to get to Dean. He stumbled forward, Tony catching him as the cheetah dragged himself towards his friend on the floor.
The cheetah let out one last swear as he slumped down in front of his friend, shaking the other feline awake. When that didn't work, he raised his arm and backhanded Rymden, ripping the dazed feline back into the land of the living with an audible clap. Rymden quickly bolted awake, gripping the side of his face.
"-Gah! What the hell was that for!?"
Dean's ears went back, his eyes narrowed as his brow became knit.
"What do you mean, 'what the hell was that for?' We could've died while you were sittin' on your ass over here playing action-hero while fighting scaleface!"
Rymden wasn't about to take that (literally) lying down, so he raised an arm and pushed Dean back by the shoulder.
"Oh, so we're talking about playing 'action-hero,' huh? How 'bout we talk about how you just had to use your stupid, flashy Fortunian Jiu-Jitsu and make bacon-boy in the bathroom scream out like he just got tossed into a deep-fryer!?"
"At least I do it correctly," Dean fired back. "I bet a five-year-old could choke you out with how sloppy you are at hand-to-hand!"
"Hey, hey HEY! Both of you! Knock it off," Tony interrupted. The bulldog wasn't about to deal with another round of the two cats bickering, as he'd practically been the FIB's assigned babysitter for when the two started going at it.
"Maybe you could both realize that you fucked up, and maybe you'd appreciate the fact that, oh I dunno, YOU'RE BOTH STILL ALIVE!?"
Dean wearily got back up onto his feet, looking down at the floor as he slowed his fiery train of thought. He looked back down at his friend, who seemed to be having the same epiphany as he did. They stopped a bank robbery from happening, from perps who had what he thought was a teleportation device no less. Not to mention, all of them could've easily died. Each of those bandits had sure shots, well, except maybe for the pig and the ape.
The cheetah let out a sigh. Sure, they had plenty of times where they ripped into each other, but that seemed to be what made them at the very least put up with each other.
Dean crouched down, holding out his tan-furred hand. Rymden studied it for a moment, before reaching out and accepting the gesture. He pulled the gray tabby up, before dusting off the back of his armor.
"You good?"
Rymden leaned down and rested his hands on his knees, blowing out a quick sigh.
"Yeah."
Both of them looked at each other, their gaze jumping around in between tired breaths. After a silent conversation, they both went back to looking around the room. Scorch marks from a laser-infused firefight were littered around the room, along with plenty of overturned furniture, and a spilled cooler. Cans of Beryllium Blast were strewn across the floor, and Dean walked over to pick one up.
He popped the tab, and some of the drink fizzled out of the can and spilled over. As he took a quick sip of the watermelon-flavored beverage, they noticed Zach analyzing the substance left over from where the device vanished.
"Yep… Beryllium," Zach muttered. Just as the team at Space Dynamics had found. Dean cocked an eyebrow, glancing down at his soda can before he shrugged it off and took another sip.
"I think we oughtta go grab bacon-boy from the bathroom before we clean house here," Rymden said as he started moving to the back.
"Oh no, you two are gonna sit right here. You are in no condition to pick someone up," Tony stopped him. "Zach and I'll get 'em sat in the office."
He would've protested, but the leather chairs near the floor-to-ceiling windows just looked too comfy.
It was only when Rymden sat down did the adrenaline finally wear off, and he began to feel the chameleon's parting gift in the form of a litany of cuts and bruises.
"Here."
Tony dropped a can of Beryllium Blast in Rymden's lap, who quickly popped the tab and began downing the drink. As the bulldog left, the two cats began to watch the sun peek out from over the horizon.
"So, two out of five, huh," the tabby asked.
"Still better than them gettin' away with all that cash," the cheetah replied.
The only sounds that came from that corner of the bank for the rest of the morning was the faint clink of their cans tapping together in a small toast, followed by the two of them downing the rest of the soda.
- Guess who put Andy's footnote in the wrong chapter? Hopefully he won't call someone in to kick my door down for that.
- Shouldn't Star Wolf be dead? Oh, wait...
- As with Zach's car, the first person to get the real meaning of Rymden's full name name gets absolutely nothing.
- If any of you are reading my boy DeltaERB's "Lethal Lockdown," Dean should be a welcome addition.