sorry this took so long! (and it's short, too). i hit a bit of writer's block, but hopefully we should be back on track!
Kinzel snapped the buckle of his belt shut, adjusting the sword at his side. He'd changed into more formal clothes, though still in his royal blue – a crisp military dress uniform-like jacket with coattails with a column of three gold chains decorating the front, the skirt traded in for form-fitting pants tucked into his boots. A black skeleton key hung on a fine chain around his neck. He brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder and looked at Rawley, who was sliding a clip into her gun.
She saw him looking at her and grinned, holstering her gun. "This is it, sir."
He smiled back at her. "Indeed it is. Everything in position?"
Rawley checked her computer tablet. "Good Cop and Emmet have been found, and probably the plans, too. The police force is in no shape to fight back, and we already let the Hounds out in the city. Looks like someone had the bright idea to reboot Business' old bots, but I doubt it'll make much difference. Just draw out the battle a little longer." She hesitated. "Are you sure we should have left the plans where they could find them?"
"It gives them some hope," Kinzel replied, idly toying with the key. "I just can't resist an opportunity to crush my enemies' hopes."
Rawley smirked, pocketing her tablet. "I believe we're due to make our entrance, sir."
Kinzel turned to her. "This will be our greatest fight yet. Are you ready to follow me?"
She saluted. "Always, sir," she said. "All the way into hell."
The house did, indeed, have a garage. Well, it was more of a barn, really. For an Uncharted Territory, this one was relatively small, perhaps ten miles across at most. It resembled the Old West in some ways – dusty and dry, the abandoned wooden houses windswept and sun-bleached. Unsurprisingly, since it shared a border with the desert realm. But it was eerily silent, a ghost town. It put Jenkins on edge, and she kept her hand on the butt of her holstered gun as she led Emmet and her team into the rickety wood structure of the barn.
Inside it was spacious, and had obviously held a number of vehicles until recently. All that was left now, however, was a large, partially dismantled tractor. Jenkins glanced over at Emmet. "Think you can get that thing running?" she asked, nodding her head at it.
Emmet had been honing his Master Builder abilities these past few months, and he grinned, cricked his neck, and replied, "Better than new."
In Business' car (with a few touch-ups from Benny), they made it quickly back to the cops' apartment, Benny's modifications allowing them to jet past above the battles in the streets. They parked the car on the roof of the apartment building and hurried down the steps. Benny realized that he'd lost his keys somewhere along the way, so Wyldstyle just kicked down the door. Once inside, Good Cop made a beeline for the bedroom, the other three tagging along close behind him.
"What are we looking for?" Benny asked.
Good Cop didn't respond, instead going over to the bureau against the wall and pulling on it, dragging it away. He put his hands to the section of the wall that the bureau had been in front of, feeling for something. Then he let out a satisfied, "Ah!" and pressed on something. There was a click, and a large portion of the wall swung outwards, revealing a secret cubbyhole.
"Holy shit, dude," Benny said.
"Awesome," Wyldstyle said.
Business, however, was entirely unsurprised.
Good Cop stepped aside, and made a theatrical gesture to it. "I present to you," he said, "our secret armory."
It truly was nothing short of a full armory. More kinds of guns than Benny could name, body armor, riot gear, smoke grenades, actual grenades… the works.
"All you're missing is a rocket launcher," Benny said dryly.
Good Cop reached inside and fished around out of sight, before smiling with satisfaction and pulling out a rocket launcher. "Do you want it?" he asked, offering it to Benny with a smirk.
"What is all this doing here?" Wyldstyle asked.
"We're very paranoid," Good Cop replied, leaning the rocket launcher against the wall. "It's just a courtesy to Benny that Bad Cop doesn't sleep with a gun under his pillow. Making this is probably one of the first things he did after moving in."
Benny put a hand to his forehead. "This has been here the whole time?"
"Yep!" Good Cop said cheerfully.
"Holy shit," Benny repeated. "We could arm a small army with all this."
"Or fight one," Wyldstyle pointed out.
"Right on the mark, lassie," Good Cop said, practically buzzing with excitement that had an almost malicious edge to it. He was ready to dish out some payback for the frankly awful day he'd had so far. "Now," he continued, contemplating the armory, "does anyone want a shotgun?"