-A/N- I owe an explanation for this one. It was my first ever action scenes, so I procrastinated like crazy – like, so much. I eventually got it done, and I'm pretty happy with where it is. By the way, this whole series of chapters (Robbery) is a reference minefield. You get a cookie if you can PM me with all the references found in this chapter; I count about 12. Relatively long chapter (for me) ahead, where we finally get some action! You excited?

"Run that by me again. You had coffee with a criminal?!"

"Yeah. I didn't know who he was, alright? He called me out. I found out later that he'd lured me out so that they could gather Intel on me and the rest of thetask force."

" 'They?' "

"You've never heard of the Heat? The bank robbers?"

"No."

"Why did you ask to join Robbery then?"

"I didn't."

"Right, there are these three guys who pull heists. Call themselves the Heat. Real pros. I'm talking inside knowledge, crowd control, sleep gas, Spectre grade explosives and looped vid cam footage. They all use aliases: Michael, Franklin and Trevor. Michael's the guy who called me out, he's definitely human. Real name's Joe Barbaro. No known address, though it's likely he uses fake IDs to get around. The others are more hidden, but probably ex-military. The weird thing is, witnesses from their jobs say they're multi-species. Could you imagine a krogan calling himself Franklin?" A light chuckle escaped McCauley as he continued. "It doesn't add up."

"We got lucky once; a patrolman was doing his beat when he saw them in a store. Had just enough time to call it in before they got him right between the eyes. Cold-blooded murder. These are guys that'll rock and roll at the drop of a hat.

"Add that to their technical expertise and knowledge of security systems and these guys are making a mockery of the whole department. Then, the Executor sends me some shitheel – no offence – who doesn't even read the paper to help me collar the most sophisticated larcenists ever to grace the station? The kind that can steal from the council and escape in a shootout? Give me a break! They even know our 211 response times for godsakes!" Letting out an exasperated sigh, the human returned his focus to driving, much to Garrus' relief.

"Wait, they robbed the Council?"

"Yeah, they hit both Tevos' and Valern's vaults in the same night, and left a calling card in Sparatus' presidium estate. Took three million creds worth of jewellery and antiques."

Garrus' subvocals rumbled in a gesture very similar to a human whistle as he fired up his omni-tool, ready to compose a message.

-

To: Executor Pallin (venarilovemachine-csechq )

Sir,

Due to my recent reassignment, you have placed me in the Robbery squad with Detective McCauley, but I would like to ask: why me?
Surely there are many other detectives in C-Sec with more experience and more chance of success than me.

From: Garrus Vakarian (scopedanddropped-csecaca)

-

Two minutes later, a reply pinged his omni-tool.

-

To: Garrus Vakarian (scopedanddropped-csecaca)

It wasn't my decision, Vakarian. Some higher-ups willed it, and so it was. Unless you have friends in the Citadel Council, it was probably your father pulling strings.

From: Executor Pallin (venarilovemachine-csechq)

-

Higher than the Executor? Maybe… no, it couldn't be.

"Urgh." Groaned Garrus, barely hiding his frustration.

"What's the matter, Garrus?" McCauley questioned as he brought up his omni-tool .

"I can't seem to get out from under my dad's shadow. Wherever I go, people always compare us: he was some big damn hero, now I have to live up to the Vakarian name by excelling at law enforcement."

"Why don't you just surpass him? Be more exceptional in every way. That's how I'd prove myself," suggested the human, brown eyes flitting between traffic and his omni-tool's holographic interface.

"How?"

"Well, I'm looking at the C-Sec databanks here. It says that Flavus Vakarian, by retirement, had achieved an 86.4% clearance rate."

"And?"

"Beat it. You become a hero, move up a pay grade, your dad thinks he's influenced you and you've made a name for Garrus Vakarian. Win-win-win-win situation. Executor'd probably get off your ass too: no more reassignments. Now we've got a long ride ahead, is there anything you wanna ask me about me, partner?"

Startled by the sudden openness of his partner, Garrus' eyes darted around for something to inquire about, if only to break the ice. When he found it, he couldn't unsee it.

How did I not notice that before?

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"Oh, this?" The human grabbed at his grey cloth jacket, feeling the fabric in his hands. It looked ancient compared to the polymer coats worn by most humans on the Citadel. "Double breasted jacket. Charcoal Grey. Late twentieth century. Used for formal occasions, but when unbuttoned and worn with a tieless shirt gives off a casual air. You like it?"

"Spirits, no. I just didn't take you as the kind for antique clothing."

"Hey, this isn't antique; it's vintage. 1995 vintage. I even got that heat sink idea from late nineteenth century handguns, so don't be so quick to judge. 'Antiques' might just save your life."

"Yeah." Garrus drew the phrase out into a long, sarcastic rumbling before asking, "Where are we going?"

"Mensch's, down on Tayseri ward. Following up on a lead about the Heat."

"Fair enough."

Owned by a salarian named Durbin, Mensch's was a quiet little middle-market bar tucked away a level below Tayseri's financial sector. It was a place where the banks' accountants and clerks could all go for a drink in the comfortable privacy of their booths. It was more of a social drinking establishment than a boozing area, and no-one spoke too highly of the proprietor. Garrus soon found out why.

"Look, officers, I don't remember who I heard talking – it was just some guy propping up the bar. Now, if you were to go to Cavanagh's down the street, you might find some bartenders serving red sand who should be put away immediately."

He's slimier than a lizard… oh, never mind.

"You're just using us to take out your competition!" raged McCauley, as he threatened, "Do you want us to run you in for withholding information vital to an investigation? You won't come out of it looking as smug as you do now." There was a chill in his voice Durbin couldn't pick up.

By now, the usual lunch time crowd were staring intently at the commotion interrupting their midday drink. The onlookers' gaze flitted between the detectives and the owner rapidly, as if watching a tennis match between seasoned veterans.

If he doesn't talk, the case is done: it'll go down as a failure. Can't let that happen.

In a flash, Garrus was over the bar, holding Durbin with against his drinks rack with one hand, brandishing his pistol in the other.

"Quite frankly Durbin, I don't give a shit about your little pissing contest with Marty Cavanagh. But I do carethat you're wasting my time!" shaking the terrified salarian, he continued, "And I do care that you're treating me like a bitch! Do I look like a bitch to you?!"

"N-N-No! No! Please, don't shoot!"

Garrus dropped his voice to a low tenor, his gun still nestled in Durbin's neck. "I don't care what state you're in as long as I get the info, understand?" Durbin shook his head frantically. "Good. So, who did you overhear?"

"It was Bickle! Travis Bickle! Came in here last week, started talking about the heist there last week, says he was on shift when it happened. He works at that jewellery store, Vangelico, on level 38, I swear!"

Stepping away, Garrus holstered his pistol. "This information better be good, Durbin, or I'm coming back for you."

With the salarian pleading and nodding feverishly, Garrus turned and exited.

The two made their way to the stairs to go and pay Bickle a visit, making their way past the bar and independent stores that you'd find that far from the Presidium to the end of block. As they turned the corner, McCauley gave Garrus a nudge, his face a mixture of admiration and consternation.

"What was that back there, Garrus?" the human asked, voice thick with wary curiosity.

"I got results. You were getting nowhere, so I… expedited the process." The response was nonchalant.

"That's an understatement! He's going to need a new change of pants after that Jedi mind trick you pulled."

"A Jedi what?"

"Never mind. Oh, and don't worry; this won't go in my report to the captain. I think the ends justify the means this time."

"I appreciate it, McCauley."

"Call me Neil."

Reaching the top of the stairs, the two paused to examine their surroundings when a priority transmission rung out on their omni-tools.

"All units, we have a 211 on Tayseri ward, level 42. It's a code three at Irune First Bank on Tayseri, level 42. Sending coordinates."

Neil surged into action, bounding up the stairs, two at a time, pausing only to turn around and call to his partner.

"Duty calls, Garrus! Let's kick some ass!"

Great.

Parked at the base of the steps leading to the massive front doors of the Irune First Bank were several C-Sec squad cars, positioned to act as makeshift cover for the smattering of officers hunched behind them, occasionally popping out to fire off a few shots at the criminals holding the entrance. Garrus could count at least three behind the front's pillars, and ducked behind one of the squad cars as they let off another salvo of mass accelerator rounds. To his left, McCauley was getting a sitrep from one of the uniformed officers on scene.

"What have we got?" The human detective yelled, his voice barely rising above the crack of small arms fire.

"Some amateurs looking for easy money. Took the joint ten, twenty minutes ago? Just walked in, took out the guards and… as far as we can tell, they're working on the vault now." The officer craned his neck, peeking over the aircar and dropping back down a moment later. The sound of bullets on metal met Garrus' ears.

He took the opportunity to figure out the situation. "Do you have a plan for advance?" he asked the officer.

"Since you guys turned up, we have the numbers for one now. Move from car to car, keep your head down and we'll figure out the rest when we get there." the officer responded.

The officer set off in a crouch, McCauley and Garrus following suit. They were covered by suppressing fire from the squad of officers back at the first car. Dashing form car to car, the trio took refuge from the sporadic bursts of assault rifle fire the robbers send out. A couple of times Garrus' new barriers flared, giving him just enough time to dive for the next car, and he actually took a shot in the arm as they got closer to the bank's steps. That pissed him off; whoever these clowns were, he was about done playing soldiers. When they reached the front of the bank, Garrus made a charge for one of the pillars, aligning himself out of the criminals' way, and shouted, "I am Detective Garrus Vakarian, Citadel Security! You are breaking the law on my station! You have this one chance to surrender – give your selves up and you will not be killed! …not by me, at least."

The only response he received was the staccato rush of mass-accelerator rounds impacting his pillar.

Let's see how much the antique can really do.

What happened next was a blur. Garrus emerged from cover, pistol raised, and pulled the trigger. And again. And again. Each round put a man down with impressive force, as the satisfying click of a cycling heat sink rattled through the mind. All he could hear was his own breathing and that same click; all he could feel was the recoil fighting his grip on the tricked-out, poorly-balanced gun – the battle for control beginning anew with every pull of the trigger.

Never saw me coming.

He moved forward to the bank's doors and looked into the lobby. No civilians. Continuing his advance, he heard muffled shouts from the next room – commanding, frantic shouts.

He moved towards the signs of life, rubbing them out as he went. The room was cleared, and the civilians inside rushed to the exit, but Garrus pushed on to the vault. As Garrus entered vault room, he slid into cover behind an elongated plant housing, similar to those seen in greenhouses, as he evaluated the situation.

He didn't like what he saw.

The vault door was still being drilled, under siege from what looked like a commercial mining laser. There was one scumbag left, using some poor receptionist as a shield in a futile attempt to remain in control of the situation. The woman was crying out; Garrus couldn't understand the garbled shriek, but she certainly wasn't calling for a cocktail.

He focused his breathing, steadying himself to take the shot. He wouldn't leave cover until he could calm down. A few moments passed, and Garrus' hitched breaths became measured gulps of air as he steeled himself the make the mo–

"Put the girl down, now!" shouted McCauley, from the doorway.

"Go to hell, copper! No way am I–" the robber was cut off as Garrus took his shot. It was close, but the girl fell to the side, unharmed. The last criminal collapsed, blood seeping from hole in his skull.

Doesn't do anything for the floor's marble aesthetic.

"Impressive!" Garrus felt an arm on his shoulder as McCauley caught up. "You know, I had my doubts, Garrus. But now… well, look: I think you were the right man for the job."

"It doesn't feel like it." The turian's subharmonics were despondent.

"Yeah, well, it never… Hey! What's up with your arm?" McCauley turned his attention to the hole in Garrus' arm, saturated in medi-gel.

The turian straightened. "I'm fine, Neil; your upgrades were a lot more necessary than I thought."

"So I see. Right, the uniforms can secure the scene, call in a code four and all that crap. We have to file our reports, and then I can get you a drink and a doctor. Let's go."

"And Bickle?"

"He can wait."

From: venarilovemachine-csechq
To: valern-ccouncil, tevos-ccouncil, sparatus-ccouncil
Subject: FW: FW: Report on 211 at Tayseri 42
Message: As you requested, the latest update on Vakarian.

Incident report: no. 5126708
Incident Code: 211
Status: Code Four
Reporting Officer: Det. Neil McCauley
Desk Captain/Recipient: Capt. Felix Caelius

On the date 18.6.2178, Det. Vakarian and I were involved in a shootout at the Irune First Bank, Tayseri, level 42.A group of would-be thieves used violent force to secure the bank, holding a crowd of civilians and pinning down a squad of uniformed C-Sec officer at the entrance.

Detective Vakarian showed great marksmanship and tactical knowledge, clearing out the building's entrance and rooms with the help of covering fire from Officers Phillips, Hirst and Kintobor as well as myself. Vakarian's ability with a firearm is unmatched; he cleared the structure with alarming efficiency, but shows signs of personal disassociation in combat – while also taking risks others may not find acceptable.

It is my recommendation that he be shortlisted for the combat counselling initiative so that we do not otherwise lose a versatile Officer who would not be wasted in Robbery, Homicide or even the Riot Squad. Furthermore, Det. Vakarian's strong sense of justice but lack of identity regarding its application should be monitored as a potential threat. On a final note, I assert that Vakarian, while an exceptional armed responder, may not fully understand what it means to work in Robbery – and is suited to departments which require more thought, if only for his own safety.

-McCauley

C-Sec personnel log 19910623 [Clearance records]

[ID: 4126] McCauley, N. – 76.5% to 76.6%

[ID: 12473] Vakarian, K. – 64.375% to 71.2%

-A/N-Finally! You have no idea how frustrating it was, putting off this action scene for some reason or another. I hate being a slacker. Anyways, we finally get some ACTIOOON! Plus, we get to see a glimpse (I hope) of what is foreshadowed in the description.