Then It's War
The rest of the day was foggy and clouded in confusion. Tyler spent much of it waiting for the results in the lab to clear up the whereabouts of the mysterious explosive device. He sat down at his desk, getting back to the endless streams of paperwork which had clotted the bloodstream of his normal duties. He sat back and shook his head; such a big mess.
What a strange turn of events that had occurred in the past few days. So much death, so little information; the road to 'Mr. Doles' had now been extended into the reaches of space, finding him now would be almost impossible, not to mention the trouble it would take to reach him. But whatever it took to find him, to take him down, the detective was ready.
The detective was hopelessly behind on his own work. Most of the time he was either too busy working on a case to care about such menial things; however, it always came back for him, he only wondered if the ever growing reports would ever cease. All he could do was to make the best of it, but he was hoping that one day he would be excused from those parasitic disturbances called paperwork.
In strode his feline partner, much in a similar way to the day the car bombing took place. Tyler couldn't help but compare his partner's exact movements to that day, as if everything was going into another remission. Everything felt the same; the sky outside was heavy and bleak, the coffee in the panther's hand had an unmistakable scent of Papetoon brew, and the waiting itself was diluted with a minor tinge of a wavering thought.
"Hey, Tyler, they're ready for you in the lab."
The weary lupine looked up from his work with an almost withheld sense of eagerness. "Walter, c'mon, you never bring me coffee unless something's strange." The panther froze in his tracks. "Well… it's about time… did they narrow it down?"
"I don't know, Ulrich looked really excited though, and you know there's only one way to make his face eerily light up to the point where he needs sandpaper to fix it."
Detective Tyler took a moment to process the statement. "…giant… marshmellows?"
"Ok, two ways… but you know you're not allowed to have food in the lab." Walter winked as his feet turned to leave the office. "And one more thing, the chief wants to see you after you go the lab, and he said your full name, so whatever it is it can't be good."
"Wait, Walter… I need to ask you something…"
"Oooh, does it involve… juicy gossip?"
"No no, not that. I was just wondering about these organized crime groups."
"Crime groups? No, we're talking like… war bands."
"You know what I mean… pirates, bandits, mercenaries, teenagers, they're all the same."
"Well, not really… I mean fringe groups like Warlord Freeman's work beyond the boundaries of Cornerian control whereas crime groups and gangs tend to be more localized. Those people who infiltrated the convention last night weren't criminals, they were soldiers, which means we need soldiers to take them down, not detectives."
"Hmmm… soldiers…" Detective Tyler thought once more about Agent Rotte's forthcoming offer. It was then he realized how to take someone like Mr. Doles out. He had to be a soldier, not a detective. He thought back to the words Mr. McCloud gave him after the death of his wife. Tyler would bring justice not in the form of handcuffs, but from the tip of his gun. The way it would be distributed would be a recall of their first encounter; he'd be lucky to suffer such a short end.
He could not hesitate, he couldn't freeze and rationalize the situation; he knew what he had to do, and when the time came, he had to act.
Detective Tyler shook his head, clearing it from lingering stray thoughts. "Fine… I'll be down there soon I guess." The black and gray lupine regretfully returned to his work. He still had a long way to go, but hopefully he could remove the non-essential alerts. When he had finally shuffled through to the bottom in a quick estimation scan, he looked in horror at final document.
"What the-? Forty-one and a half counts of workplace gender discrimination?!"
~X~X~X~X~X~
The lab area was clean and polished no doubt due to the forensic team's OCD nature. A soft glow came from each corner of the room, and every setting was filled with analytical equipment and every enclosure lined with complex instruments.
"I don't believe it; this metal must have the tensile strength of rice cakes it bends so easily." Ulrich examined the explosive fragment with a close eye. "It looks as if it were built primarily out of scrap material; almost every part certainly came from a different place. But what I found more interesting was its place of origin." He brought up a large picture on a touchscreen; it was a bulky looking tracking device. "I pulled up information on the residual serial number you found on top of that roof; care to guess what it is?" He said, looking towards Detective O'Donnell.
"Just tell me." Tyler answered in a cold and indifferent voice. "I don't want to get muddled up in guessing games."
Ulrich showed a sense of disappointment. "This here is the remains of a CT-83 prisoner detention device, please tell me you know what that is, the official description's like… ten pages."
"It's a… shock collar right?"
"Precisely! They once used these to keep unruly prisoners at bay, it basically eliminated the need to build costly fences; but ever since they were banned, some began using them for… slightly different purposes."
"Get to the point, what are the 'slightly different purposes'?" Tyler didn't desire to get caught up in a discussion of details; he wanted the facts and nothing more.
"Alright, geez you're no fun…" Ulrich grumbled and sighed before sloshing over to the preserved remains of the collar. "Explosives… pirates sometimes pack these things with explosives, you know, low grade stuff, things they can get their hands on. It is modified in a way so that when a certain button is pressed, or when it leaves the range of a beacon…"
"Boom?" Tyler interjected.
"Boom." Ulrich nodded.
"I see… so what's the connection between this and what happened last night at the weapons convention?"
"Security footage showed the infiltrators were something around their necks… it's sick, and it's messed up, but it's their way of… motivation."
"Force them out there and tell them to come back or else their brains get to be projected onto the nearest wall…" The detective tightened his voice. "brutal…"
"Yeah, remember we're not dealing with your typical crooks, we're dealing with some of the meanest assholes in the whole Lylat."
Tyler was slowly building up rage with a precision aim towards Mr. Doles and his entire crew. They wouldn't get away with it… not as long as he lived and there was spare ammunition in his gun. The raven whom had escaped from him, he would pay… the infiltration team which had abducted Dr. Holcomb last night at the convention would all get their own brand of the lupine's vengeance, one way or another.
"I mean… how bad do you have to be to threaten your own soldiers with death? Is it not enough to throw innocent people into the crossfire?" Tyler could see the forensic analyst was also speaking in great anger.
"But… he didn't die… the collar exploded alone. Why?"
"Maybe it was a bluff… make them believe they're in real danger and then when the job's done, have a good laugh and throw the collars away."
"I don't know… if it was a bluff, why even care to add explosives?" the confused lupine shook his head.
"These er… private military types tend to be about as ruthless as they can get… if that means killing their own soldiers to better the rest… so be it…"
"But why? What does it do but thin their numbers?"
"It desensitizes them… makes them comfortable with killing, what greater test than to commit it on their own?"
"Damn it!" The detective yelled as he threw his fist back at the wall. "I'm gonna find that guy… I wish I could hunt him down… he's the source of this, Vixy, Holcomb, everything! It's time to stop this madness and bring justice."
Ulrich looked somewhat scared at the detective's intense reaction. "You're not the only one you know. Mr. D- Warlord Freeman has lots of rivals, it's one of the reasons they're unable to unite under one leader, they're all too busy fighting themselves!"
Detective Tyler had grasped the concept multiple times during his years in the army. Rouge factions would sprawl up here and there, but most of the time they were either instantly extinguished by the unstoppable juggernaut which was the Cornerian military, or they were slowly strangled by inner conflicts and petty wars with each other. Names would come and go, sometimes resurfacing, but usually in the form of a pathetic wannabe.
It was common for Cornerian presence to be challenged every once in a while by so called 'generals' and warlords attempting to usurp control over parts of land or parts of space. However, there were certain zones which had become fodder for late night sob stories about horrific hostage situations and unbelievably contentious raids by swiftly moving pirates. These almost always lived a short lifespan, serving in the end as a dark and violent example to those who dare follow the same destructive path.
But in the recent years, during the time in which Andross had been 'executed' by the highest authority, it had become all too quiet. It was almost as if the pirates had become bored of fighting and instead had resorted to sitting around and waiting to be attacked. Corneria's official stance was more of a reactive one instead of a proactive one. So much time and resources had been wasted guarding undisputed territories and peaceful lands that the military as a whole was spread very thin and somewhat divided.
Once you left the Cornerian controlled zones, localized forces had no obligation to help your ship or caravan even if you desperately needed it; they were only mandated to operate within a certain range, anything beyond that was up to a handful of decision makers and a quick single calculation of the possible dangers. Sure it was tough, and yes there had been numerous instances in which the integrity of the Cornerian army had been questioned, but often, fears were deflected either by elaborate military parades, staged minor exploits barely crossing the borderline definition of conflict, and if it was really scandalous, perhaps you'd get some 'missing' Cornerians the very next day.
It was a little corrupt, true, it was lazy, but at least the General never went into full panic launch-our-bad-boys-at-'em-now mode… yet. The main focus was to keep anything from getting out of hand, in fact, most of the real combat fell to the hired guns and mercenary groups often employed by the Cornerian military.
The angered lupine fell into a calmer state, intellectualizing his emotional reaction and thereby making it obsolete. He needed not to seek revenge, only justice… this wasn't his fight, it was that of those who had lost loved ones and of those who would undoubtedly be affected in the future if this went on; he was merely a weapon, a tool, no different than his placement while serving seven long, cold years under at least twelve different commanders. He was not a soldier, he was a weapon in someone else's war, the real difference was that he would fly through Sector Z to bring justice.
"Tyler, Tyler? Don?"
"What…"
"You know… Agent Rotte was waiting outside for you to finish."
The detective looked back upon the lizard in a strange mix of confusion and realization. "Why? What does he-"
"Tyler, I overheard him talking with one of his colleagues over his transmitter, talking about you. I tried to listen in longer, but I still had work to do."
The concept had finally begun to sink in to the detective, after all he was chosen for the position because of a quick intuition. He knew now, he knew Rotte had plans, and that he wanted him, he couldn't help but feel already connected to something else, something other than a case. No longer was he bound to a case; it had grown and manifested until it could not be sustained inside such a small sphere of influence in which the detective reigned.
It was not a case, now it was a mission.
The lupine nodded while casually glancing at the nearby exit. "Hmmm… I see…" He started to walk away, but soon felt an unmistakable weight on his right shoulder.
"Tyler…"
"What?"
"I… don't see this ending well… just… if you do go, be careful. You'll be with the worst the Lylat has to offer, if you intend to blend in like Agent Rotte was suggesting…"
"You said it yourself… Warlord Freeman has a bunch of other enemies to worry about, who said I couldn't join merely to advance a common goal?"
"That's not what I mean Tyler… these… pirates would stab you in the back just as soon as they're done using you. They could kill you in cold blood and go to bed wearing your clothes. You saw what they do with those collars, they use them on their own people!"
Tyler nodded, retaining the information before returning a similar gesture to one of his few long-time friends. "We'll see… we'll see."
The detective then turned and promptly exited the lab, almost getting his tail caught between the elevator doors.
~X~X~X~X~X~
"Hey, Detective…"
"Oh, Agent Rotte, hello."
"You know I just talked with some of my contacts and they all say tomorrow's the best time to start going after Warlord Freeman. If we want to stop this menace, we need to have time on our side."
"That fast? I don't need any intrusive screenings? No soul crushing training routines?"
"No, nothing exciting… I'm the one who had to slave through the process of recommending you for the mission, you are coming with me, aren't you?
At that moment, the lupine was still relatively undecided on the issue, but he knew enough to give an instinctive answer. "Yeah, sure…" It was only after he spoke it that he realized the weight of what he was saying. He was accepting a transition, not only in his career but in his life. He longed for the taste of adventure once more, but his final days on Finchina squeezed the last essence of hope out of his juice box. The chance to hunt Warlord Freeman was a once in a lifetime chance, one which he deep down could not stand to reject or obstruct.
"Well, that's great!" Agent Rotte exclaimed. "Should I meet you here tomorrow? Or should I stalk you until the time's right?"
Creepy…
"The first one please…"
"Great, can't wait 'till then. See ya!" Agent Rotte smiled before turning around and blending in with the flowing mix of Cornerians.
"O…ok…" Tyler made a weak effort to reply. Agent Rotte came off as warm and inviting, he seemed like any normal dutiful citizen, how could he mix in with the worst of the bunch? Reverse psychology? No, that's just stupid. Whatever it was, the detective would soon figure out in the coming days.
~X~X~X~X~X~
"Tyler Susi O'Donnell… never thought the day would come…" The oddly disposed police chief paced around the office, with the detective sitting silently in a nearby chair. He was pacing eagerly, and he looked quite excited with what he was about to disclose.
"For what?" Tyler asked when he saw a mixed message coming from his superior's smile.
The Chief stopped and slowly turned to the detective as if he could not believe what he was hearing. "You know you're going with that Agent." He maneuvered. "Your finishing this case one way or another, even if that means leaving Corneria."
"But what abo- ok…" The lupine corrected when he saw the change in the eagle's expression.
"Now before I send you off, I need one more favor from you." A suspicious gaze crossed both of their eyes; they knew they were now locked in a battle in which Tyler was unarmed. "It'll clear you to leave, and it will shut the media up about last night's convention mishap." The eagle then moved to his own desk, taking a deep breath and giving the detective a heavy gaze.
"Have you seen what they've been saying on the networks?"
"well… no I haven't gotten around t-"
The Chief immediately flipped the power button on his nearby remote. The enclosed television over on Tyler's left sprang to life. He expected to see some dramatic scene of coverage, but the result was far from it.
"Damn commercials…" The police chief muttered while he tried in vain to make the programming go faster.
Three minutes later…
"A theme park? What the hell?"
"I think it's coming back on." The detective noted.
"Right… ah, top story!"
On screen was a very dismal looking scene of the convention, now blocked off by untold amounts of guards and government officers. In the background could be heard a feminine voice saying, 'We still don't know the exact cause yet, but at this moment we can assume it was partially due to weak preparations made by gung-ho police officials; no word yet on how the clumsy security allowed this terrorist group to slip by unnoticed.'
The Chief then turned the television off. "Now imagine the effect that would've had if it was already playing when I turned it on!"
Tyler stared at the hardwood floor in embarrassment.
"Tyler… Detective, I've known you for a total of two long years… and while I can say being your boss has been a painfully excruciating experiment, you have helped bring down crime in these areas. I think what happened last night is a perfect excuse for discharge."
Tyler almost stuttered in his speech. "I'm sorry are… are you… firing me?"
The Chief nodded no. "Think of it as… promoting you to another job."
"Alright, but what's the favor?"
"You will be my scapegoat so that I don't have to take the blame… and I'll finally get to fulfill my dream of releasing you into the wild."
The detective rolled his eyes.
"Oh and Detective… in addition, your remaining paperwork will be either removed or transferred to your partner, Mr. Mullins."
Tyler sprang to his feet and yelled, "Yes!" he almost left the office right then and there, but the seemingly gravitational pull of the Chief kept him within range. "Oh, thank you thank you… I was afraid…"
"You? Detective O'Donnell? Afraid? Ha! You make me laugh. But seriously though, you're probably the most badass guy I've ever ordered around… but it will be nice for you to take that itchy trigger finger where it needs to be."
"Thank you sir. Can I leave now?" The detective was eager to exit, he was caught up in the thought of seeing new places and experiencing new things. His mind was engulfed in fantasies about what it would be like to journey with Agent Rotte and hunting Warlord Freeman until either him or that bastard was dead. But then there was Walter; he'd be leaving his best friend behind…
No, he couldn't let emotions get in the way of what he had to do, it was important he set his mind on the goal, and Warlord Freeman was that goal. He had made a silent promise to Mr. McCloud to bring justice to his wife's murderer through the barrel of Tyler's gun.
The detective then said his goodbye before leaving the office. He had been given special permission to leave the force and join what seemed to be a highly ambitious adventure to someplace far away. A million and six thoughts raced through his head. He could imagine boarding a ship and taking the pirates down one by one just like in the movies. He would be a hero, peace would come to the Lylat and he would be it's valiant crusader of justice.
The air weaved through the breezy beach as he and Weiler celebrated with a vacation after the job well done. And after that, Tyler would receive a service medal from General Peppy himself.
He could see the explosives carefully being planted in that car the night before the incident. His mind flashed to the vision of Vixy casually turning the key before the esoteric bomb went off. Warlord Freeman was behind this, and he would pay.
Mr. Doles had caused multiple horrible and brutal deaths; it was now up to Agent Tyler to return the favor.
~X~X~X~X~X~
The last hallway itself was perhaps even colder than the outside of the Finchina base; that was because it was cooled by the hearts of the base's officers. Sergeant Tyler looked in envy and disgust as the four officer's quarters were larger themselves than all of the enlisted soldiers' rooms. Another chill flowed through Tyler as he approached the Major's room.
When he entered, he could see the Major having a conversation with Lieutenant Peruse. "Sergeant." Major Jenson acknowledged.
Sergeant Tyler saluted, it wasn't long before the officers concluded their conversation and the Major was able to return to his own work.
"Alright Sergeant, what did you observe this time?" The Major asked, not even bothering to make direct eye contact.
"Sector A looks pretty desolate, I think it would be best to establish another digging site around Sector G before we move on sir."
"Establish another site? Sergeant, we don't have the numbers to do that, and even if we did, it would neglect the attention needed for the other sites, the ones with better readings and stronger chances of yielding…" He halted before speaking of what both of them already knew what may lie beneath the snow. "It doesn't matter, we need to be careful, with haste brings danger. At what rate are we supposed to reach the projected level?"
"Sir, the calculations currently show that we should be finding significant modules in about… two months."
"Good, we're right on schedule. That is all Sergeant, do as you please, we need to prepare for lockdown, that snowstorm isn't going to wait on us."
"Sir, there was another thing I wanted to discuss…" Tyler had begun to remember the offer brought to him by the coyote. His plans were clear.
"Well? Spit it out."
"It's about… one of our soldiers… a Private has approached me and attempted to arrange a fake shortage of food in order improve the quality of our meals. His plan was to use the storm as a supposed cover-up for the missing supplies so that you'd be forced to send a new drop down here."
"You must mean Private Coleman, he's tried these kinds of things before and he's complained to me at least a dozen times last month. Although I can never seem to discipline him because he's never actually able to follow through with his plans. I know what to do; pretend that I'm oblivious to his plans and follow through with his mischievous deed. If you can help me catch him in the act, I will gladly give you a good report, does that sound good?"
"It sure does sir." Tyler gave another salute.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Author's notes: Looks like our poor protagonist is going on a fun vacation! How exciting!