Chapter 6: Chaos, Terror and Paperwork
The air was crisp, conditioned and saturated with the smell of antiseptics and medicine. In other words, the air was as you would expect it to be in an ambulance.
Daws had suffered the greatest injury. One of the dreaded pink needle rounds fired by the attackers had embedded itself in his arm during the earlier conflict. His instant reaction was to try to pull it out. This was a wise decision as it exploded in his hand moments after being dislodged, and, while the extremity was now quite badly damaged, the wound would have been significantly more grievous if the needle had remained inside his body. The man lay on a portable hospital bed in the centre of the cramped space, filled with pain killers; though thankfully, or not so thankfully depending on your taste, not the kind of pain killers that induce a chemical high. He stared into the distance with a blank countenance.
Little Steve and Dave were in notably better condition: both simply worn out, speckled with cuts and, in Steve's case, bruises (from attempting to be an action hero and diving through the air onto his side). They sat on either side of their comrade, twiddling their fingers while wearing forlorn expressions.
The atmosphere was deadly silent, save for the sound of the vehicle's wheels tracking along the ground, the occasional whoosh noise that occurred when other cars passed by, and the gentle beeping of medical equipment. There were no emergency staff in the back compartment at the moment: Daws' condition was stable and the boys had requested privacy, the medical staff moving to fill the 3 spare seats at the front as a result.
Steve eventually broke the silence. His expression switched to that of tiredness, his posture straightened up and he released a yawn, stating "We got fucked over."
Dave remained leaning forward and replied "Yup."
"But by who? Who were those guys?" Daws' head had turned to the shorter of his compatriots.
"Bastards?" another case of Dave's simple input.
"Evidently, but why'd they hit the pub?" Steve's voice lowered and he leaned forward again, obscuring his mouth with a fist "They clearly weren't there for us."
"Yeah." Daws replied in an equally quiet manner, hand over his mouth. However, he phrased his next statement to be unsuspicious and spoke it at normal volume "They were just shooting everybody."
"Hmm. Look, we'll drop you off at the hospital and get some of these scratches checked out. Then me and numbskull here will smash our heads together doing some figuring and I'll ah... have a talk with my boss."
"Right."
Silence fell once again, each individual in the compartment stationary except for the occasional jolt and waver from the vehicle running over a bump or changing velocity. This continued for a minute or two before Daws spoke up again, "You know you told me once that chicks dig scars."
"Yeah?"
"Well I think I'll be doing pretty well won't I?" Daws smiled a bit and gestured his head to his wounded hand.
"Get in there mate, get in there." Steve spoke in a tone of blokish praise.
Everyone smiled for a few moments until a beep sounded, signifying that the driver was about to convey a message. " 'Ello lads, just wanna let you know we'll be takin' a slightly different route to the hospital: there's been some kind of serious incident on the way we were goin' to go. Shouldn't take too much longer though."
"Cheers mate." Little Steve spoke, raising an arm in a gesture meaning effectively the same thing as his statement. He then turned to Daws and Dave, and stated what everyone was thinking "That didn't sound good."
The other two men grunted in agreement.
Joanna was strolling along a wide street. It was one of those fresh evenings: the air was cool and damp, and the environment was wet from the recent rain. While depressing, the setting had a calm feel to it.
The tall woman was walking to a local shop to satisfy her sweet tooth. Her stylish, black trench coat swayed from side to side as she meandered, hands in pockets, to her target. Looking to her right she saw an ambulance turn into her road from a corner behind her. Hmmm, some poor bastard's been shot. were her romantic thoughts as her luminous eyes locked onto the van.
Eventually, the ambulance exited from sight around another corner and Joanna reached the lit up store front she had been searching for, only to duck away from its entrance as a loud boom resounded from inside, followed by the sound of metal twangs.
"That's right! Run bitch!" exclaimed a female voice before another boom was produced, followed by the smashing and dropping of glass fragments.
"Fuck me." Joanna muttered as she ducked against the adjacent wall.
In a few moments, the automatic door opened and three purplish-ebony armoured sangheili burst out of the shop while shouting in panicked, high pitched alien tongues. They were carrying bags that were, presumably, filled with money or some such freshly robbed material. Joanna's eyes tracked the individuals, her brow furrowed; though they appeared to take no notice of her, instead sprinting between a pair of parked cars and towards a van on the other side of the road. One of them wrenched off the van door, producing a metal groan, before throwing the object backwards with a clank and leaping into the vehicle. Soon after, the ramp at the van's back lowered and its engine revved up, the quintessential whirring noise emanating from its front. The other two robbers threw their bags into the rear compartment, jumping in with great enthusiasm.
At this point, a short, ginger haired woman wearing beige trousers and a grey polo shirt followed the sangheilians out. In her hands was a huge 12 gauge that looked far too big for her relatively small build.
Joanna quirked an eyebrow. Ginny?
The store owner's weapon was brought to bear on the three aliens' escape vehicle while its holder crouched next to a car. A small gout of flame flared out of its barrel and her arms bucked upwards as she directed another shot towards the van. Sparks spread across it above the front wheel but none managed to hit the soft spot.
In the end, the woman's attempts to cripple the vehicle were without avail and the frantic sangheili swung it round in an arc and gunned it down the road in the opposite direction to that which the ambulance had taken.
"Ahhhhh!" growled Ginny in frustration as she pumped her shotgun, an archetypal red cartridge spinning through the air and landing on the floor with a hollow tap. She rested her gun on the ground barrel-first, her eyes moving backwards and forwards laterally in the direction of the speeding vehicle.
"Uhh, you alright mate?" Joanna addressed the vexed weapon wielder in a tentative but friendly manner.
The lady's attention quickly flicked to Joanna at the same time as the taller woman began to straighten up. "Those bastards hit my store." Her pronunciation of the word "bastard" was distinctly American.
"I saw. You're not hurt are you? There anything I can do?"
"No. Thank you, Joanna. No I called the police on their asses already." The woman wiped away some sweat from her brow with the back of her free hand. "You didn't happen to see their license plate did you?"
"No, I don't think they had one." Joanna turned her head in the direction of the extraterrestrial robbers. "That's a first." Her head returned to the woman. "No one's ever given your store any trouble. We all know you keep that fuckin' boom gun handy at all times."
"They didn't."
"Guess it takes coming from another planet not too."
Ginny's slight features formed a small smile. "Yeah." The expression extricated itself from her face as her misfortune was brought to the forefront of her mind once more. "Look I'll catch you later Joanna. Those assholes have given me plenty of work to do now."
"Kay. Sure there ain't nothin' I can help with."
"Yup."
The women were about to part when the muffled but distinct sound of plasma fire spread out from the distance, followed by the sharper and more resonant sound of human pistol fire.
Ginny gazed sympathetically at Joanna "Get home safely."
"I'll try, shit." The NDA agent turned and power walked back in the direction she had come from, her arms swinging in almost 180 degree angles as she put all of her energy into racing home. Ginny's store front receded into the distance as Joanna's focus receded inwards. What the fuck's going on? Two shoot ups in the space of 5 minutes? I don't buy it. Several seconds of quiet walking went by, the woman turning a corner in the last few of them. Her expression then went from one of bemused concentration to one of desperate questioning, with her eyebrows raised. There's nothing sugary back home! Damn it Leyo you fat bastard. Why can't you eat less, like a normal human being? Her brow lowered again. Ohh.
"Panic and outrage are spreading across London after several Sunday evening terror attacks by an unknown group of sangheilian individuals. These attacks range from robberies to hostage takings to ruthless shootings. In each case the perpetrators are exclusively male and clad in dark coloured armour, and the victims exclusively human; although there does not appear to be a trend in the location of the attacks, with each one occurring in a different part of London and in different types of establishment. We now talk to-"
"Bollocks." Jon turned off his car radio, having heard enough of the repetitive headlines that he had already been exposed to several times since waking up that morning. His blood pressure had been steadily rising as he listened to the news and currently left him on the brink of full cardiac failure. The presence of these interracial attacks presented a plethora of problems and stresses for the high ranking NDA agent. One of the most BP-spiking of which being the unpleasant nature of interspecies tension and the spawning ground such tension creates for chaos, death and paperwork.
Thus, Jonathan was passively pissed as he drove his car to work that day, and if one was to stare through his windscreen they would be met with an intense grimace.
His grimace continued to persist even as he entered NDA headquarters. He passed through many brightly lit corridors constructed of artificial materials and emblazoned with the NDA logo: an "N" followed by an open lion's mouth that contained the "D" and finally an "A", all in gold. Simple, but effective.
He eventually emerged from a hallway into the large room which formed his operating area. He immediately brought his frown to the coffee making machine, around which many of his fellow NDA employees were milling. Then, he brought his resultant coffee to a conference room, where he locked himself away for the time being.
Joanna arrived to the place quarter of an hour later in her signature fleece and jogging bottoms. Her hair hung loosely in wavy locks from her head and wasn't gelled up as it usually was. In her hand hung a mug stating "Cockneys and cockroaches: the only things capable of surviving thermonuclear war." and in smaller writing beneath this "And we've both got cock in our names." Joanna's expression was neutral and she immediately brought this countenance to the tea maker, which neighboured the more caffeinated drink's maker.
While she worked away at the machine she spotted Derek, the interrogator's assistant, next to her. She questioned "Have you seen Jon?"
"He's in the conference room." was the straight to the point answer.
"Cheers." Joanna gained no further response; although she honestly hadn't expected it, having gotten used to the man's vacuous character.
One of Joanna's colleagues had overheard the abridged exchange and interjected "Heading after Jon as usual eh? What are you like."
"Jenson, I've got a boyfriend mate. Anyway, I've seen you and Ted hanging around a lot together; is there something I should know about?" Hearing no reply the woman chuckled and walked off with a smirk, a swagger and a tea.
"Yes I hear that Ambassador. Sometimes I wish I'd become a cashier at Shanterbury's instead of deciding to become a riot control officer. Then maybe now I'd be managing food packages rather than interspecies politics."
"Hmmm. However, we must do the best with what we have I suppose."
"Yeah."
"I shall see you again imminently. Until then Agent Johnson."
"Ambassador."
Jonathan Johnson exited the spacious room via the electronically locked door. In his hand was an empty, black mug.
"Jon." Joanna stated by way of greeting as she leant with her back against the portal's adjacent wall and her legs braced on the floor. Even in this slightly reclined position she was still taller than the man.
"She-beast." Jon replied.
The speed and force with which Joanna's eyebrows lowered was comical. "Boy I will break an' enter your fuckin' head with a crowbar if you say something like that again." She tilted her mug as a means for emphasis.
"Yes boss."
The "boss" muttered something along the lines of "Wise arse son of a bitch." as she swallowed down some hot tea.
Jonathan's manner then became more serious as he ventured "Have you seen the news?" and began walking back to the coffee maker.
Joanna followed and answered "Yeah. I was privy to one of the incidents myself."
The suit wearer turned back while continuing his stride "Really?"
"Yeah, three sangheili in blacky purple-"
Jon interrupted "Is that PC?"
"Who gives a fuck? Blacky purple armoured sangheili getting merced by this tiny lady."
"Was that even a full sentence?"
"Don't criticise me. She owns a store I go to a lot and has this huge shotgun. These three guys didn't know that though so they tried to rob the place. Took a fair amount of stuff but scarpered when she started shooting."
The two had reached the counter where hot beverages were made, and the male of them began putting together another coffee. "Right. Well the image you've painted is certainly surreal. Anyhow," Johnson formed that eyebrows-up expression that indicates a change in subject "you understand the problems caused by interspecies incidents?"
"Yeah, fuck it, its tetchy enough keeping peace between different nations on Earth let alone different races, and... so many attacks occurring in just one night... all by sangheili with consistent armour patterns-"
"Indicates, overall, that there's some kind of sangheili terror group or, dare I say, cell operating in London." Johnson finished, voice deepening in distaste.
"Mmm."
Both NDA agents were now leaning back against the counter opposite the drinks machines, their steaming brews held in their hands. Joanna raised hers into the air "To fucked up times."
Jon raised his own mug "May they shortly become less fucked up."
The two friends drank from their respective receptacles.
In Jonathan's interlocution with the Ambassador, he had arranged a meeting between Government, NDA and SDU members. This meeting was now in full swing with all relevant staff convened around a large circular table. The chairs formed a sequence of small chair, large chair, small chair and so on. This was necessary as the sangheili require significantly larger chairs to seat themselves in than humans, and the last thing that is desired at the moment is for the two races to be segregated from each other.
Among those present were Jonathan himself, Joanna, the Ambassador, Dollas, the human ambassador Philip Canton and other such "important" people.
It was the sangheili ambassador that kicked things off, standing up from his seat "Hello all." He seemed tired and almost bored and his tone was somewhat sardonic. "It is customary to thank you all for coming to such occasions as these despite the fact that you would all be fired if you did not." A couple of small chuckles were drawn from the room's occupants. "Nonetheless, thank you all for coming. Now, the incidents of last night present numerous problems, questions and facts. Firstly, an unidentified but unified group of sangheili wish to express displeasure towards humanity. It is clear from the disparate and variant nature of the crimes that this group of individuals wants nothing in particular other than chaos and terror."
Rasa placed his hands behind his back in parade rest before continuing "Secondly, our respective publics are set on edge and at odds with each other by these events. People are unsettled by the widespread and unpredictable quality of the attacks and, understandably, many humans may feel fearful of my sangheilian comrades."
The sangheili diplomat lowered his head momentarily "Of course, we will discuss what to do about this issue and what probable courses of action we have, but I would first like our interagency liaison to share his piece with us. Thank you." Rasa sat down and crossed one leg over the other, folding his arms at the same time. He looked across the table and caught the eyes of Jon and Joanna, the latter of which was sat in a similar position. The three exchanged brief nods.
Dollas now stood, though he lacked the same presence, authority and charisma as Rasa. "Thank you Ambassador. As most of you will know, the SDU citizen tracking department noted a large number of disappearances of sangheilian individuals late in the night of last Friday. Only one night passed after this before the attacks occurred on Sunday, and, though your people's forensics tests are only in the preliminary stages, what information they have sent us potentially identifies at least some of the culprits as the same individuals who previously disappeared." A form of indiscernible murmuring spread across the circularly aligned sea of faces as this information was absorbed.
A short pause resulted before Dollas went on "After discussion with NDA officials, we have posited that the disappearances may be the product of a sangheili only terror group recruiting. This is of course unsettling and..." The liaison continued speaking, oblivious to the appearance of a young Caucasian male in the room.
This man snuck around to where Joanna was sitting and whispered in her ear "Ms Joannan."
The woman's head turned round, features neutral; though her attention was still primarily settled on the sangheilian speaker.
"Internal Investigations is requesting your presence to discuss your case." is what the man said. However, what Joanna heard was "Those bastards are demanding your arse to be placed in the trajectory of their boot." and in a single moment the man became the subject of all of her focus and, to his misfortune, malice.
"Now?" Joanna's voice was quiet but infinitely clear and filled with loathing.
"Yes. If you'll just come with me-"
"Can you send them a message?"
"You will be able to give it to them yourself if-"
"Tell them to fuck off, and stop power playing like a child whose parent isn't allowed to slap them." Joanna then turned forwards again.
The sangheilians sitting on either side of her couldn't help but avert their concentration from Dollas and pitch it onto the woman, at the mention of the "f" word.
The young messenger could be praised for his persistence but cursed for his stupidity as he made the mistake of lightly grabbing Joanna's arm and stating "I'm sorry Ms but you must come with me."
The woman's head turned slowly and menacingly to the hand on her arm, her eyes glowing a deeper, more intense shade of purple than normal.
As though stung, the man's hand retracted away from its grip.
Joanna's sharp, spiked and burning hot gaze was then directed towards the man's face, which had visibly lost its composure and colour. He just about opened his mouth to say something but was cut off: "Listen you fuck up." The man tried to speak again; though he was once more cut off "Do not speak. If you say a single word in excess of what you have said already, I will throw you over this god damn table. Now, you go back to your superiors, and you tell them that if they want to speak to me they can write me a letter, or schedule an appointment when I am not on important business." She then spoke condescendingly "You get that?"
The poor guy nodded.
Joanna leant towards him, "Now piss off."
At a loss for words, and under threat of being thrown if he used any, the man could not but comply, striding out of the room as quickly as would not draw too much attention. The sangheili on either side of her smirked to each other at the conclusion of the exchange.
Dick head. was all Joanna had to say internally on that matter before she returned her psychological energies to the task of listening to Dollas.
"Due to the colouration of the armour these miscreants came adorned with. They shall henceforth be referred to as the ETC, ebony terror cell, until more is discovered about them. That concludes my part in these discussions. Thank you." Dollas took a seat, the room was immersed in murmuring, and Joanna sat amongst it all, silent and stricken with remnants of contempt.
-AN
I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. It is unlikely that a new one will crop up any time soon but let's keep an open mind. If you have any comments in any form then feel free to drop me a review or PM, whether to point out a flaw or just to tell me what you thought. I'm always interested in what you have to say.
Rough Buncher out.
