by P. S. Power
Normally that would be enough to get anyone to pause, including Brian, but this time he just shook his head.
“No. They tried to kill us. We can’t let them keep getting away with things like this. I keep telling you all that we need to make a stand against them, to protect everyone else, but you all keep saying I need to be reasonable. They keep coming though, don’t they? You have to be able to see it now.” He moved, a lot faster than a regular human should have been able too, a stomp meant to destroy one of the downed officers throats, which was stopped by the ground, the man that had been laying there suddenly missing.
Brian pointed toward the back of the room suddenly and went wide eyed, clearly terrified.
“Bomb!” He yelled it so loud that everyone in the room froze for nearly three seconds. Time he used to hit the next closest downed uniformed man several times. When Marcia turned he had a firearm in each hand and was pulling the trigger. Nothing happened, the bullets having been taken by Mark, who’d obviously taken the first officer too, dragging him to the back of the room.
Without hesitation Proxy whirled in a move she’d never seen him use before, hitting the man on the ground with the butt of the gun in his right hand as he fell, hitting him in the temple rather precisely for a new move. Then he flipped over, the weapons gone, still fighting, trying to kill the men before they could recover.
Mark was good and kept taking the weapons; sometimes the men themselves, but Brian found ways around it each time. Finally hitting Mark with a hard elbow to the stomach which made him vanish. That meant he was somewhere else for some reason, because no matter how long it took to recover, he could keep fighting seamlessly if he wanted. That meant that the man had decided not to get in the way anymore. Probably because it shouldn’t have been impossible for Brian to hit him at all, for anyone no matter how fast to do it, and that freaked him the hell out.
Making it her turn.
“Brian. Stop that. We’re not killing the cops. It’s bad press if nothing else. Now calm the heck down.” She tried to sound reasonable, but her voice betrayed the worry she felt. She didn’t know how Proxy would manage to kick her ass, but also didn’t doubt he could. He’d hit Stasis, which was something she was almost certain none of the rest of them could manage even if Mark agreed to let them try. She was harder to hurt, true, but it looked like it was up to her now anyway.
She didn’t rush him though, because that would be too obvious. He’d use her momentum to throw her if she did that. Instead she just walked over and gave him a hug. Half a second later almost everyone else joined in too. Bridget got there first, but it was almost everyone in the room, including, she saw with a bit of amazement, Alan and the New Jersey guy.
Bridget spoke for them all, worried.
“Don’t lose it now Brian, we need you. Please?”
Somehow, that worked. It took a bit and some panting, but he managed to calm down before the police came to.
“Fine.” He sounded rough and worn, angry and a bit like he was placating them by not killing anyone.
“Fine. I’m good. Let go. We need to place them all under arrest then, if we aren’t going to kill them. That and remove them from the country. We should get ready for the incoming forces too. They’ll probably be here to try and kill us all soon. It’s what they do.” He sounded so certain of all of it that a few people laughed.
Marcia didn’t. It was very nearly what had to happen, wasn’t it? The other cops would come and instead of listening to reason, they’d attack, trying to protect their friends, even though they were in the wrong. Then Brian would kill them all.
In short, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
“Not likely.”
The voice was male and familiar to her, enough so that she turned away from Brian to look at the door where Conroy stood, looking like the hero of a movie with long gray hair and a lean ranginess to his body. The skin of his face was weathered and tan, but just the kind of look that light skinned people got when they went out into the sun. He smiled and walked over to where everyone was clustered.
“First we need to clear this mess up. Someone get me the number for the local police please? I need to talk to the man in charge. Cutthroat, you and Hoover secured the front. You, um… Sorry don’t know the name yet…” He pointed to Lauren looking up at her with a grin. “But if you could handle the back for us? Make sure no one sneaks in for a bit? Especially if they happen to be police, at least for the next hour or so?” He walked close enough to pat the giant form on the arm, soft flesh hitting the hard brown expanse with a soft thump.
Laruen spoke gently, not moving at all.
“Um, sure, I guess. I mean Um… Who are you again?” She was trying to sound polite at least.
Brian looked at the man, carrying Bridget over with him, as she was clinging to him like he was a tree to climb. That or she was a baby monkey, legs wrapped around her mommy. When he got the older man he nodded, then shrugged easily. The girl just wasn’t that heavy at all. Not even for a person with normal strength.
“Lauren, this is Mike Conroy. He… teaches wilderness survival and… I think knows Marcia and Lancaster. Right now he seems like the person with the plan, so I guess we should just follow along, since all my thoughts on this end up with a lot of dead people. We should probably avoid that though.” He very carefully didn’t look at the cameras, just at the older man standing in front of him.
“There you go Lauren. I’m Mike. So what do you say?” He waited, but it didn’t take her long, she just turned and started toward the rear entrance without a word.
“Good. Any progress on that phone connection yet? No?” He looked at Brian, but then stepped around him to get to Marcia.
It was good to see him, but she was in charge of the situation, not him. Which didn’t mean a lot if they didn’t get out of this mess somehow. It was so screwed up she was half tempted to just let Proxy finally go to town on a police force. That wouldn’t play well in the bible belt though, especially when a guy that supposedly had no real powers killed a few thousand men in a fight. It wasn’t physically possible of course, but then, she’d seen him do some things that really just weren’t, hadn’t she? Even that day.
“You have a plan Mike? If so, best let me know quickly, since I have to back it up in court if it goes sideways. Better to know what it is first I think.” She meant it, but moved in and hugged him anyway.
The whole thing just felt right, having him there, shit about to hit the fan and too little time to figure out anything that would make sense in the real world.
“Oh, sure. I was planning to tell the police chief that he’s under arrest for terrorism and needs to present himself to be taken into custody. Then we have a little chat with the man and his lawyer, point out that he might not get a trial and that his lawyer can’t protect him thanks to the Patriot Act, then see about working out a deal with your boss. That Moore still? They haven’t put you in charge yet, have they?” It sounded like a real question, not like he knew the answer.
“Nope, it’s still Kevin. Well, it sounds insane, but I think I get the idea. We go in making accusations and casting enough blame that the police don’t dare take any action that won’t prove their innocence. Let’s get these police and Deb here in handcuffs then? After all, if it really is a terrorist attack using the police, she’s clearly in on it.” Marcia grinned not really intending to arrest the woman for anything or even actually restrain her, but was happy to see the look on her face, which was terrified. It should be. She’d annoyed a bunch of people with super-powers, which was never a smart move.
It was kind of perversely gratifying, until the woman tried to run away.
She actually just turned in place, teddy, garter belt and bare feet and tried to run her drugged behind away down the hall of a hotel. Because that would work. No one even bothered to chase her, because not thirty feet into her run, looking over her shoulder to see how close they were to her, Deb smacked into a wall. Pretty hard too. The move knocked her
out totally.
Marcia winced, but noticed that the whole thing had gotten captured on camera. The big guy with the beard that normally did Mark’s show. She nodded to him.
“Got that?”
“Oh hell yeah. That’s going on the blooper reel for sure.” For some reason everyone laughed.
Except Charlot, who handed her a cell phone.
“It’s a Police Chief Lincoln for you Marcia?” Her tone was cool and crisp, but not overly worried for some reason. That was good; it would make the rest of her pitch easier.
It was her job, not Mike’s, since he didn’t have any authority in the situation at all. She took a deep breath and tried to sound stern.
“Chief Lincoln? Good. Six of your men just attacked a federal agent. Since you clearly know where and who we are, and they were acting on your orders, you’re under arrest for terrorism. You have two hours to turn yourself over to us for holding. Failure to comply means that we’ll have to come and get you. You do not want that. You don’t have even a tiny fraction of the manpower you’d need for that to help you at all.”
Then she went quiet, waiting for the storm to unfold.
8
It shocked the heck out of her, out of everyone, but the local chief actually showed up, without even bothering to bring a small army of police with him. The man was young for the job, a forty at most, but looked lean and sturdy, thin and clean shaved, with a mildly put upon expression on his face as he walked up. Alone and unarmed, but wearing his uniform. It was about the best case scenario then, instead f the worst, as far as Marcia could tell. She still had to resist the urge to hold her breath, waiting for the snipers to start shooting or whatever trick the man had arranged in the half hour it had taken for him to get there.
“Thanks for coming Chief Lincoln. I trust that this means you’re claiming you didn’t order the attack yourself?” She knew that, or at least suspected it was the case. Oh, everything in her mind screamed that he was guilty, but she’d been there. The officer that drew his weapon in the first place had just been responding to the scene. Scared people did stupid things. It wasn’t exactly hard to see how it had happened, was it?
That was why Proxy had taken them down after all. He was frightened. She couldn’t blame him for it either. Everything in the last six months of his life, even longer than that, had been about training him to respond instantly to threats that most people would never have to face. If she pulled a gun and started to point it at him Brian would hit her automatically, even though they were friends. If he didn’t have that training he probably wouldn’t be alive, regardless of his powers. Not given everything he’d been through.
Smiling, Marcia held out her right hand, which got the man to shake, then hesitate, waiting to be put in handcuffs. He wasn’t fighting at least. It really was a good sign. He searched the room for his men, who really were restrained already, though Karen was washing their faces gently with a damp cloth and making sure no one needed to go to the hospital. No one else that was. Three of them had already been shipped off in ambulances. The remainder were all bruised, possibly concussed and not very happy about it, but they shouldn’t die of their injuries. The Chief seemed to pick that part up immediately.
“So, I don’t suppose anyone will be willing to explain what happened here?” He sounded serious enough, but mildly amused for some reason. At least until Proxy ran through what happened from his perspective. It made the whole thing sound pretty serious.
“So, after I got a death warrant, one which the IPB put a hold on as a courtesy to you and your people, you sent these others en-mass to attack us. Illegally. Can you explain that in a way that doesn’t make you look even guiltier of using government resources for terrorism? I can’t see it myself.” He managed to sound almost pleased about the statement, instead of like he was about to kill someone.
That got the thin uniformed man to ruffle his short brown hair and hold his palms up toward the ceiling.
“I’m not really sure what was going on here at all, but I didn’t give any orders to attack you. We also don’t have a policy of discrimination against Infected people and certainly don’t go out of our way to harass government agencies. I can see how you might feel that way, but it was likely that these men just perceived a threat and responded. If a person pulled a gun on them, you wouldn’t expect them to just stand and talk, would you? As far as that goes half of the people here are standing around like virtual tanks ready to go, or rocket launchers. Some are like battle groups practically. What do you expect regular people to do in a situation like that?” He said it like it was a rehearsed phrase, something that he’d had to go over more than once before.
It wasn’t wrong either.
“That’s real enough Brian…” She started speaking but was cut off almost immediately.
“Is it? By that logic, I should be allowed to kill or hurt any officer immediately, because they all have guns and bad attitudes as well as low IQ’s. If the one idea works the other does too. Police officers kill more people each year than the other way around by a vast number. People have to be held responsible for their actions, and that needs to go double for those sworn to defend the law, not less so, which is the way it’s handled now. An average person should be given slack for asking questions and making mistakes, but these men are supposed to be the professionals. They know that it’s illegal to pull a weapon on people not presenting a threat. Which we weren’t. There can’t be allowance for mistakes or personal fear either. We can’t just let them go, since they’ll be protected behind “police procedure” which isn’t, I might point out, law. It’s what they use to get away without trial no matter what they do. These men need to be an example to all other law enforcement. You can’t just attack innocent people and get away with it. There’s no other way for this to work. The courts won’t handle this and the police cannot reasonably police themselves. We have to do it for them.” He spread his own hands, and sounded almost cheery about it.
Probably because he’d been doing something on the phone while they’d been waiting. Since most of his close friends were in the room with them, that probably wasn’t a good thing. Marcia guessed he’d called in, and gotten, death warrants for all involved. Why anyone at the Department of Justice would be so stupid, she didn’t know, but if it wasn’t a mistake then someone was giving Brian Yi cart blanche as far as that went. She really didn’t have an argument that would keep him from killing the men this time either.
She could see the rationale they were using for their actions, of course, she even agreed with it on paper, but that wouldn’t play with the kid in front of her. He’d been too hurt and harassed to believe any cops were actually good guys. He thought the system was broken and that they needed to all die to fix it. Worse, he honestly believed he wasn’t going to live much longer, so the cost of killing these men didn’t strike him as too high personally. He could take them out and weather the storm for a few more months, then leave it all behind. He’d told her as much, more than once. It wasn’t exactly sane maybe, but it was based in a cold and angry kind of logic. It just didn’t take everything into account.
Because not all of them really were evil.
It probably felt that way to Proxy, since he had no real reason to think anything else, having dealt with an actual group of terrorists that used their protected status as law enforcement to try and kill him. Twice. Before that a group of cops had kidnapped him and left him in a room to die with no food or water just because they were bigots that had a badge and the cover of the government. That had been bad enough that most people wouldn’t have made it at all and the police involved hadn’t gotten more than a slap on the wrist for it. This time it wasn’t like that though, and Marcia was really afraid that nothing she said could save the men in handcuffs.
Still, Brian hadn’t said he had a death warrant signed, so maybe it wasn’t that? Maybe he’d just called for a pizza, or got in touch with the press, to make a public spectacle of the men that had messed up? That woul
d be over the top too, and come back to bite the IPB on the ass if they did it, but it wouldn’t be an abuse of power. Well… it would be, but not as bad of one. They’d still all be alive at least.
She didn’t know what to do at all. No one else seemed to be all that certain either, mainly standing, or milling a bit. Deb the slightly underdressed but good looking cooking show helper was alternating between crying softly and screaming about how they were going to kill her. They’d actually had to handcuff her and make her sit. She kept jumping up to try and run away, which meant that Kerry kept levitating her back into position every ten minutes or so. It would have been funny, if there was anything she could do about the situation at all. If it wasn’t such a huge disaster waiting to swallow them all whole at any second.
Taking a phone call Brian held up his right hand, smiling happily enough. It was genuine too, real joy, a thing that she’d only rarely seen on his face. He handed the phone over to her without saying who it was and winked at her.
Marcia grimaced and bit the bullet, speaking first.
“Um, hello?” Damn it, she sounded scared. That wasn’t good. People noticed things like that and thought it meant you were weak. It was hard enough being a woman in her line of work, without sounding like a freaking schoolgirl at a spelling bee.
“Turner? This is Moore. I… I don’t know the situation on the ground there, but we have seven signed death warrants and Brian doesn’t seem inclined to let the men go this time. Does the situation really need it? Is there nothing else that might work? We simply can’t go around killing the police, even if they really are guilty of actual crimes. I told him that, but he just laughed at me. I think there may be something wrong with the boys mind.” The old man on the other end of the phone sounded a bit bitter about the whole thing, but then he wasn’t used to people taking his orders as suggestions or simply disregarding them if they didn’t fit the plan of the moment. He expected to be listened to and obeyed. Brian treated him like an equal at best. It meant they didn’t mesh well as far as management styles went.
