I'm not dead. Not yet atleast, school hit me like a truck, it being my Senior year, I really can't screw it up. Anywho, new chapter.
The Galla Galery (Creative, I know) was the highest ranked art gallery on the West Coast, housing dozens of peices by both old and new. It had the top of the line security system that nobody would dare test, and had four of the best security guards in the state. And someone was about to test their luck.
The two SUVs rolling to a stop left their engines running as the ten mammals that were inside disembark, the marching boots they were wearing leaving a single line in the gravel as they approach the building.
"Ready?" The mammal at the front says, taking a small diamond and taping it to the glass doors of the gallery before raising a hammer.
He gets a nod from each mammal, assorted items or weapons in all of their hands, a swing of the hammer shatters the glass, a shout of "Thirty!" goes out, the mammals rushing through, darting through the museum.
Three of the mammals screech to a hault outside of the security office, the largest kicking the door down before the trip barge in, leaving two guards dead and another two incapacitated.
"ITS DOWN!" Comes from one of them, the other two rushing out of the office.
"ONLY PAINTINGS, IF THEY GO TOGETHER MAKE AURE YOU GET BOTH!" Yells another reminder, a mammal going from painting to painting, removing them from the wall and handing them off to another who runs them out to the waiting vehicles.
"THEY GOT THE SILENT ALARM BEFORE WE CAPPED THEM, T MINUS ONE EIGHTY!" Comes another yell, the masked mammals pace increasing slightly.
Another minute passes, pairings being removed from the walls stopping as the vehicles become filled. A whistle goes out and the mammals drop what they have and dart for the exit, jumping into the vehicles. One of them lags behind, trying to drag a sculpture.
"GAVIN DROP IT!" Yells the driver of one of the SUVs, the clang of metal on concrete as the sculpture is dropped and the final mammal gets in the SUV.
-0-
"Fourty priceless paintings stolen, this is what ZNN has gathered from the overnight robbery of the Galla. Three security guards were killed and one remains in surgery this hour. That's all for now, back to you in the studio."
Cameron's morning consisted of sitting at the perimeter, making sure no reporters tried to slip through the barricade.
Luckily Cameron's replacement arrived, allowing him to go and get some breakfast and to get to Bogo's briefing. As he climbs the hill he has to put on his sunglasses to dim the glare of the sun rising over the hills.
"Someone's not looking their best this morning." He hears from his right, finding Logan with a McDonalds coffee in his hand.
"Thanks, were lucky that I got Delgado to take your place while you got coffee. You seen inside yet?" Cameron asks, taking the coffee and taking a long drink.
"Yep, it's as reported, they shattered the front door with a diamond and a hammer, rushing in, three of them took out the security office while the rest got to work on the art." He replies as they stroll towards the building.
As they get closer to the building they begin to notice more details in the sun, such as the skid marks on the pavement from a vehicle skidding to a stop.
"ALL OFFICERS FALL IN!" Comes Bogo's billowing voice from a corner of the parking lot where the command center was parked.
The gaggle of officers gathers around the trailer, where Bogo was standing.
"Allright, were all here so let's get everyone updated... The calling card found on a wall inside confirms that this was a group called the AH crew. Anyone know of them."
Cameron raises a hand, a dissapointed look on his face.
"As you can tell by Robertson's face, we're dealing with the best of the best. Its a group of ten. They primaries operate in and around Texas, hitting banks, art galleries, jewelry stores, once they loaded a port-o-potty full of stolen gold and smuggled it out of the county. They're professionals, and they've now moved shop from the south to the West, they've hit fifteen targets from San Diego to Portland since July, average of one every three weeks is their usual, so this is unusual."
"So do we have descriptions?" Judy asks from somewhere in the front.
"Detailed lists are being sent to all of your emails, but the fastest I can list them are, ahem: Geoff, Ram. Jack, Brown bear. Ryan, Timberwolf. Michael, Red Fox. Gavin, Red Deer. Jeremy, Horse. Lindsay, lioness. Trevor and Alfredo, Mexican wolves. Matt, desert cottontail."
"So, what's their MO?"
"Honestly, not a damn clue, they are erratic, sometimes doing heists without a death, sometimes clearing a building out and burning it to the ground. They rotate leaders of the heists, some of them are less... predictable then others and you can tell by the plans."
"Is the story that they're undead true?" Nick shouts out, getting socked in the arm by Judy.
"Yes there are reports that when a member of the crew is killed, their body disappears without a trace and the same member is present in the next job. But don't let superstition guide you. Dismissed."
The gathered officers scatter into their groups to discuss the information, everyone beginning to shiver in a cold wind that descended on them during the briefing.
"I can wrap you in my shirt if you want." Cameron comments, Sydney hurtled with Logan, Sydney, Nick, and Judy.
"Less taunting, more discussing... So you know who we're dealing with?" Judy asks, shivering in the cold.
"Mhm, they were going up and down the east coast while I was in the military. Most memorable one I can think of is when I was on vacation in Panama City Beach and they hit the port in Panama City, made off with the contents of several shipping containers seemingly chosen at random, came out it was an assortment of military gear, engines, and copper tubing. Engines could be resold at market value, copper tubing melted down and sold as scrap, and the military hardware sold to the highest bidder. It was one of their, "no issue" heists, got in and out without alerting the guards that were still alive and got the loot on several boats and hightailed it."
-0-
"Gavin. What the fuck?"
The deer just smiles as he hangs from the roof, his legs caught in the Christmas lights that were strung along the rafters inside the large warehouse.
"Are you going to help me down Michael?" He asks.
"Nah, I'm going to take a picture and leave." The fox replies honestly, pulling out a phone and taking a picture of the stuck mammal before continuing his walk past rows and rows of shelves stacked with paintings, gold bars, jewelry, American Currency and Pesos, and any other valuable object that one could steal.
After walking the distance, he comes to a brown bear seated behind a desk, glasses on his nose as he records every object being carried by him by horse and pair of wolves.
"Score was a massive success, according to Ryan and Geoffs predictions we can flip the paintings after a year, in the meantime the values will skyrocket due to their theft." He informs, filing his paperwork in a row of filing cabinets behind him.
"Storing then here or are we shipping them off to grey sites?" Michael asks.
"Here, ZPD is arguably the best police force in the city, we went getting any paintings out of this city without them finding out, can't go to the mob or the cartels to smuggle either, they've already declared hands off unless we sell. Also is Gavin hanging from the rafters over there?"
"Mhm, got wrapped in the lights he was stringing somehow."
Up in an office overlooking the building, three mammals sit around a table, looking over documents and sheets of paper.
"Alright, it's probably safe to move those gold bars we got from the federal reserve in January, that cash from that bank in the sticks as well. Cash gets laundered through the regular sources, gold gets turned into cheap rings and sold at pawn shops north of the Canadian border." The cottontail rabbit on the desk says, circling items on the pages with a marker.
"It worth it to sell them up north?" A Timberwolf asks.
"Ryan, we cant sell everything to the same five stores for two months, North of the border we have dozens of shops from Vancouver to Winnipeg that we can just take a trip up, dump the gold, declare the income and move along." The ram at the head of the table says, looking at the documents he eyes a few items. "The three paintings we got from that private collector in Sacramento have finally come off the watchlist, should be able to put em up on the usual sites and be rid of them."
"You'd think so, but I've been watching the cops pattern, every time we hit somewhere with art, they go and look through all the paintings we've taken that are unaccounted for, silently watching for them, it's how Gavin almost got punched and Ray got capped."
"Oh yeah, I'm getting old."
"Retire then, get a nice house somewhere like New Zealand and be happy in your old age." Ryan comments, taking a sip of coffee.
"As if, I'm riding this train till I die, I'm in it for the thrill at this point."
-0-
Traffic cameras had been little help, the vehicles had pulled several trucks, managing to be lost as they went from the outskirts of the meadowlands into Tundra Town, so now they had one of the largest districts in the city to find the vehicles and art. But unfortunately, the gods of luck were not awake.
Cameron looks up, the telltale rumbling something he'd had the displeasure of hearing once before on a ski trip in the Rockies. "AVALANCHE!" He yells as loud as he can, sprinting behind Logan from their parked cruiser towards the tunnels and carved out shops in the side of the mountain. As the rumbling gets louder and louder Logan bursts through the doors of a shop, Cameron hot on his heels as chunks of snow begin impacting the street.
They were lucky in their current location, patrolling a ski village along the side of the mountain, the majority of the buildings were carved into the mountain itself, saving the lives of those inside, though trapping them. This was the same senario as the pair of officers press themselves in the back of the shop along with the staff and several customers, as the rumbling reaches its peak and the noise gets the loudest the natural light that once filled the store gets cut away, leaving the shops internal lighting casting a warm glow over the shop.
A few seconds after the rumbling stops Cameron and Logan venture towards the front of the shop to find what they expected, that they were buried underneath a few tones of snow.
"Well. That's not ideal." Logan quips, scanning the shop for the first time.
"Yeah, cruiser is probably crushed." Cameron adds, strolling over to the staff that begin to mill around. "Landline?"
"Yea it's behind the counter, hit nine to get to external numbers." One of the staff replies, pointing to the counter towards the front of the shop.
The designers of the stores had invisioned scenarios like this, and had wired all water, power, and telecommunications underground, allowing them to work even if the occupants were trapped. Cameron picks up the phone, hitting nine before dialing 911.
"911, what's your emergency?" The operator asks.
"Mhm, yeah this is Z-169, avalanche at the twin peaks ski resort, Z-168 is trapped with me inside a store, sounded like a big one." Cameron informs, scratching his head as he looks at the snow.
"Understood, search and rescue teams are already en route, any injuries to report?"
"Anyone injured?" Cameron asks aloud, getting a response of a small cut but nothing else. "Nothing we cant deal with a first aid kit."
"Understood, prepare for the long haul, it's swept over the climbing road all the way down to the snow break."
Cameron hangs up, sighing as he takes in the contents of the store.
"Exploration gear, damn how lucky are we?" Logan comments, holding up tools.
"Toss me a shovel, ima go prove to see how much snow were under."
"Why you?"
"Because this has happened to me before."
"In a store?"
"Nope, on skis. Stuck for about twenty minutes, blacked out from all the blood running to my head after ten minutes upside down, woke up in an air ambulance." He explains, grabbing a shovel and an ice pick and going to the front doors.
There was a good four or five feet between the glass of the shop and where the snow began, giving Cameron an area to move the displaced snow. He begins chipping away at it, shovel by shovel moving the snow in a small colllum. Inch by inch he moves the snow from the collum to the floor, where Logan and one of the store employees bucket it and dump it down a sink.
After a while he finally breaks to the surface, being passed a pair of snow shoes and some flares by the mammals below him, he ventures slightly away from the mountain, glancing down the slope from as close as he dares to find the rescue crews about three quarters of the way up the covered roads, with a helicopter patrolling he rest.
He strikes two flares, holding one in each hand as he waves them, the red smoke being released attracting the attention of the heli, which lowers a rescue worker down to him.
"Howdy, hows you get up here?" She asks, scanning the area.
"Dig up, it's about fourteen feet deep at the cliff, probably mammals in each shop."
"Any major injuries?"
"None that we know of, haven't been able to get in contact with any of the other shops, I've just been digging up, we can probably use the landlines to find out." Cameron infroms as he walks back over to the hole.
"LOGAN!"
" 'ere!" He yells back, his head peaking into view.
"Toss me up a rope and use that landline to contact the other shops."
"On it."
"You have rope down there?" The rescuer asks.
"Ran into a exploration store. Dumb luck really. Grabbed a shovel and started to dig my way out."
"MATE TAKE THE ROPE IM FREEZING MY ASS OFF DOWN HERE!" Logan yells, the rope being tossed out of the hole and onto the snow.
-0-
I look out the window of my office, the mass of news vans and reporters gathered outside the emergency room was pissing me off, ever since Ximetz I'd become extremely cautious at work about who's coming and going.
The current issue on my plate was the death certificates of a dozen mammals unfortunate enough to not have been able to get inside before the avalanche earlier in the day. The causes of death were almost identical, expected and understandably unavoidable, blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, and hypothermia were what the medical examiner had declared, now it was left to me to sign, photocopy, and file all of them.
The job wasn't bad just because I was literally declaring people legally dead, but because it was time consuming, I had to go along and match every name and bit of information with the mammal, then sign it and finish.
I was happily finished with the time consuming part, getting the twelve documents into a neat stack and standing from my desk, strolling towards the door. Closing it behind me I leisurely walk over to the nurses desk, passing the documents over as they had me a case file.
"Eleven year old lion, broken arm and numerous bruses. Yeesh rough day." I say, reading the file.
"Father said he fell down the stairs as he was getting ready for school." Alice explains.
"Father with him?"
"No, father had to go to work, said he would be back on his lunch break."
"Jeez, I'd rather be yelled at by my boss then leave my kid at the ER." I comment as I walk away, matching the file number to the treatment room.
Scanning the room with several beds, I find a half dozen mammals, the kid at the far end with Pulezo entertaining him. I pass a moose with a biker jacket on that was in with a stab wound he said happened when he fell in the kitchen, which nobody believed, but hey ho.
"Hey Johnithan, how are we feeling?" I ask the kid, sitting down on a stool and rolling over to his bedside.
"Not good. It hurts." He states, somewhat hunkering in his seat.
"Well you're in good hands, we'll get you feeling better soon. I just need to have a word with Pulezo and I'll be right back with you." I inform cheerfully.
Pulezo follows me out of the room, finding my face when we get out of earshot one of rage.
"Ima guess you ran the parents names." He asks.
"Yep, mothers a drug addict, currently unemployed, father is an alcoholic, three calls to their house in the past year, every time they insisted everyone was fine and there was no issue." I say, looking down the hall to find Jessica and Sydney with rage in their eyes.
"Detectives, how nice to see you." Pulezo says, somewhat puzzled of why they're here.
"That the kid in there?" Jessica asks, pointing into the treatment room.
"Mhm, I'm guessing you got wind of the situation." I inquire.
"Cameron mentioned it to us after they dug Logan and him out." Jessica replies, going into the treatment room.
"Parents here yet?" Sydney asks.
"Fathers at 'work', no clue where the mother is." Pulezo says.
"Man this just makes my blood boil, I'm just glad I'm in civilian clothes instead of the uniform, wouldn't be god to beat the shit out of someone wearing that."
"You're still on the clock though, so you'd still have to make a report." I point out.
"Youve got me there."
"So Jessica's good with kids?" I ask, looking through the long window to find Jessica entertaining the cub.
"Yeah, I got no clue why, just real good with kids in the way that Cameron's good at talking people down from the brink, you just have talents that others don't."
"Now Cameron's good with those cases because he actually does know what they're going through. Went through a real dark patch in his early twenties. Lost his dad to a drunk driver, got laid off, and dumped in the same month. Military had police check in on his well-being after he didn't leave his place for two months."
"Wait laid off from the military?"
"No, he was in the reserves to pay for university, then worked at Lowe's to get some spending money."
"So how'd he deal with it?"
"Ironically weed. After three months of sucking around at home he started using cannabis infused gum to help him relax, his brother got him a therapist, and over the next three years he pulled himself out of the pit, wasn't fully 'recovered' but he was classified as high functioning till about two years ago when his doctor ended the meds he was taking, he stopped using the gum, and he now sporadically visits a therapist here."
"How dark he get?"
"Ehhh, I'm only telling you this as a medical professional. If I was his doctor, At the end of the first month I'd have had him put in medical custody on suicide watch if I was his doctor, but he pulled through. He described the second to third months as him just 'existing', he was in a state of 'it is what it is' wasn't going to throw himself off the roof, but he wouldn't have been unhappy with being hit by a truck."
"Sorry to cut Cameron's life story short, but parents at twelve o'clock." Pulezo intrudes, probably for the best as we were talking about the mental health of one of our friends.
Pulezo puts himself between the Parents and the treatment room, hands respectfully behind his back. I simply hold myself to the side, keeping Sydney out of the line of fire.
"Are you Eric's parents?" Pulezo asks politely.
"Yeah, where is he, it's time for him to come home." The father says, the mother staring off into the distance, probably high as a kite.
"Unfortunately his cast is still setting, it will take another hour or two before he is able to be released." Pulezo lies through his teeth, waiting for someone to make their move.
"Now I'm his father, so I get to say what happens to my son, now are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to beat it out of you?" The father asks, getting in Pulezo's face and raising a fist.
"I request you to refrain from threatening me, and if you attempt to force my information I will have to ask you to leave."
"Should I step in?" Sydney asks, looking worried.
"Wait for it." I simply say.
The father moves forward, going to grab Pulezo by the collar. Pulezo counters this by grabbing the fathers wrist and twisting, spinning him around and pushing him away from him. "I must ask you to leave sir. Ma'am if you refrain from physically attacking me you may stay." He states, rolling his sleeves up. A janitor who sees this action from Pulezo quickly pulls his phone out and hides around a corner, beginning to film.
"Come here you fucker!" The dad yells, charging Pulezo.
Pulezo straightarms the lion, grabbing the collar of his shirt and using the momentum to spin the mammal into the cinderblock wall. As the mammal leaves Pulezo's grasp, his claws levae long scratches down the length of Pulezo's arm. Pulezo closes the distance while the father is still stunned, delivering a fist to the chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs, this is quickly followed by a knee jab to the crotch. As the father hunches over in pain, Pulezo grabs the back of his head with both hands, forcing it downwards into his rising knee, the impact auditably revealing the breaking of bones and causes the lion to crumple down sideways, out cold with a stream of blood steadily streaming from his nose.
Pulezo takes a few steps back, letting two other nurses deal with the unconscious mammal, rolling his sleeves back down he turns to the mother. "You are both restricted from seeing your child due to the suspicion of child abuse, a detective from the ZPD will be out shortly to inform you of what happens next." He states, walking back over to us.
"Uh that was..." Sydney begins, failing to find the right words.
"Yeah forgot to mention Pulezo was a medic in the SEALS." I inform, seeing a nurse down the hall erase the 28 on a whiteboard and replace it with a zero.
"Oh."
"So you feel good?" I ask Pulezo.
"Not bad, not bad. I'm going to go get these scratches treated, consitering the guys an alcoholic I dunno what's on his claws."
Later.
"When I get high, I get high on speed, Top fuel funny car's a drug for me..." The song begins, the bass rattling the change in a cup holder as I rocket down the highway, the 105 was the perfect route for my A to B trip, when it was done, I could just get back on the highway and put distance between me and the destination as fast as possible.
Eyeing my speedometer I decide to pull back a bit, not needing a felony speeding charge. Lowering my revs by a thousand the car begins to slow, not a moment too soon as I realize I almost missed my exit, cutting across two lanes I get back down to ground level, spying my destination a street or two away.
This part of the rainforest district was the nicknamed 'the strip' for a good reason, much like Vegas, when the city was expanding in the mid 60s, casinos built here were absorbed into the city with the agreement that they would pay much less tax then normal, of course they were also skimming money to the mob and mafia, but they had almost all stopped.
I park my car, getting out and beginning to walk across the empty parking lot towards one of the older casino-hotel buildings, passing a mirror I do a once over of my suit, a simple black jacket over a dark blue shirt. Crossing the casino floor, I remove a keycard from my pocket and pass through a staff door, quickly coming to an elevator. Taking the ride up several floors, I use the time I have to send Cameron a text to ask what he wants me to pick up for dinner.
As soon as the doors open, two polar bears in suits eye me from the end of the hall. I stroll towards them, allowing them to frisk me as I pass them. Going through the door behind them, I enter a large office overlooking the casino floor.
"Dr. Hagler, so nice to see you." Mr. Big says from behind his desk, another few polar bears throughout the office.
"Likewise sir, shall we get down to buisness?" I ask, taking the seat opposite him.
"We shall." He smiles, snapping his fingers and having several files laid infront of him.
