Chapter 3 HOOOOOOO!

Long Day 3: Stun Round Boogaloo

7:45 a.m. Sector 32 Dispatch Station

Dredd was now mildly concerned.

Given a man of his repute, mildly concerned with him was more along the lines of pants shitting terror for the average citizen.

Why? Because his partner, Judge Anderson, the Rookie, just got transferred away, Control's only justification being that the city needed more firepower.

This left Dredd heading into a gang war on his own, with presumably wounded and/or dead Judges in need of backup.

Once again, he thanked himself for his constant re-stocking.

Roaring away, Dredd immediately found himself in the middle of a massive war zone, bullets flying through the bodies of the unfortunate, gang members pinning each other down with heavy machine-gun fire, more gang members suicide bombing the other factions' barricades, too doped up to fear for their lives. It was, quite frankly, Hell on Earth.

But Judge Dredd had seen worse.

Dismounting, he picked up his massive Spit Cannon off of the back of his Lawmaster, and started laying down some hot, metallic Justice. Tearing through criminal after criminal, Dredd quickly drew the attention of every faction in the entire area, with members from the Angel Gang, the Peyote Kings, the Judged, the Bodysharks, the bare bones of the rest of the Ma-Ma Clan, the Jets, the Sharks, the Corleone Family, Hotel Moscow, the Axe Gang, the Crazy 88s, the Rockets, Aqua, Magma, Galactic, Plasma, the Ballas, the Grove Street Families, the Jokerz, 3rd Street Saints, the list went on.

It was the worst gang war ever recorded in Megacity One. But Dredd didn't care. Dredd just kept firing on the poor sons o' bitches that blatantly broke, in front of him mind you, enough laws to warrant a death sentence on the spot. Five minutes into the fight, and hundreds of gang members laid dead, some gangs put down in their entirety.

When the fire died down, Dredd said his first words in the entire fight:

"Citizens of Sector 32. Your include multiple homicide, the use of narcotics, and the attempted murder of a Judge. The sentence... is Death."

And rioting ensued.

"Oh shit! Run!"

"Fuck you Judge! Get him boys!"

"这样的讨厌的人。好，我的兄弟！杀了他！"*

"Кто, черт возьми, это мудак? Статистика его мертвым!"*

"He ain't got shit on us! Let's kill 'im!"

Dredd frowned. Dredd fired. Criminals started dying. Blood started flying.

And thirty seconds of continuous fire later, the entire street was cleared. Of course, there was the rest of the area to clear. That encompassed another twelve blocks, and one large Block.

Dredd swore in his head, "This is Dredd, Sector 13! I received your 1024, what is your status?"

Inside a ruined parking garage, a hand waved into view, and a voice crackled in over his comm, "Clark, Sector 43! My partner is wounded, broken leg; I'm fine, couple scrapes. Thanks for the back-up. We ran out of ammo, got any more?"

"Yeah. Sit tight."

Yanking out one of his many spare cases of ammo, Dredd pulled out enough magazines to fill two Lawgivers and have three reloads each. Pocketing said magazines and setting his Spit Cannon to auto-turret, Dredd strode through the mounds of rubble and corpses, ignoring the sounds of gang fighting in the distance. The gangs would keep fighting, Judges in trouble were always of priority.

Of course, bad things happen to those that ignore the unpredictability of incredibly like-minded people.

"There's a Judge over there!"

"Shit."

Now running to avoid the waves of bullets and makeshift explosives lobbed at him, Dredd couldn't help but curse today; it was, after all, a much more intense day than usual, and Dredd couldn't help but wonder why.

No. No time for that, cover first, there was precious cargo to be delivered to the injured Judges some three stories up.

Inside the Parking Complex, Judge Clark and his partner, Judge Larson, waited with baited breath; Dredd was taking an awful long time to get to their position, and the sounds of gunfire and explosives didn't help.

"Oh stomm that hurts!"

"Dammit Larson, pull it together! We've already done as much as we can, now all we can do is hope we get out of thi– Get Down!"

Ducking, the pair of Judges realized that there was a sniper on the roof adjacent to their position.

"Shit, gotta warn Dredd!"

"Dredd, we got a sniper! Roof directly adjacent to our position, your three o' clock, four stories up, third broken window from the left!"

"I see him."

Whipping out his trusty Lawgiver, Dredd aimed, and with a barked command of, "High Ex!" blew the poor criminal scum out of his perch, directly onto a crate of some volatile materials.

Turning from the explosion, Dredd used the distraction to his advantage, and began making his way up the floors of the garage.

"He got 'im"

"He's Judge Dredd, of course he did. Guy's a fucking tank."

"Yup. Leg feeling better?"

"Still feels like shit."

"Well damn. Wait, shouldn't we have called in for a medic too?"

"Shit."

"Maybe Dredd took care of it for us."

"If he didn't, I can't. My comm is shot to hell, short-range only."

"Same here. After I called base, long-range got fried."

"Control, we need and evac, one wounded Judge."

"Roger that Dredd, we are on our way."

Second floor, no apparent hostiles. Dredd passed without incident.

Third floor, wounded Judge, healthy Judge.

"I called in a medical evac, Larson. You'll be fine. Clark, you're with me. Control:"

"We copy, Dredd. Situation?"

"Send the Evac to my GPS. We got the situation handled."

"Roger that Dredd, evac is on its way."

A/N: Well, that went well. Conclusion of the gang war is next. Also, some plot points.