The doors of their cruisers opened and the ten officers stepped out into the garage. They quickly made their way to the elevators and up to the lobby. None of them wore uniforms of any kind, as they couldn’t afford to give away their identity to the general public. Police uniforms caused no end of problems in doing the job they had been accustomed to, but it would also made them unpopular with uniformed cops in every precinct.
They went through the open doors of the elevator into the precinct. It was a busy and densely populated room. Much of Mars looked cleaner and better kept than on Earth, but crime was no less common. Kaufman made his way to the main desk, walking straight past the half dozen people queuing to see the sergeant on the desk.
“I’m Lieutenant Kaufman.”
“Yes, Sir, you have been appointed Office 12B, Floor 7, Sergeant Nowak is there awaiting your arrival!”
Kaufman could barely hear the officer, but it was enough to be on their way. It had been a long time since he had worn a uniform and had to work the floor, he never regretted becoming a detective. Moments later the ten IBI officers stepped into the room they had been appointed, a conference room for the precinct. It had one large table that could seat twenty, with one officer stood leaning against the far wall. He was older than they expected, pushing sixty. He had an air of confidence about him and barely responded to them entering.
“Sergeant Nowak?”
“Lieutenant Kaufman, I assume?”
“Sergeant, I am sorry we do not have time for pleasantries, but time is of the essence. We have information that suggests one of the major crime gangs will be striking a key bank in the city.”
“Got a time and date?” he asked.
“Sadly not, it’s sketchy information at best, we need an assessment of all key banks. I need to know how many, where they are, their security measures, current holdings. I also need your insight. We are training for this, but you will know your city better than any of us. Let’s get started, Barski, get me on the line with the ship. Sergeant Nowak please bring up maps of the city.”
Nowak straightened up and took a step towards the conference table, he flicked a switch beneath the large glass surface and the entire top projected a map view of the economic centre of the capitol.
“We have forty-one personal banks in the city and four city reserves,” he said.
“Christ, that’s a lot of ground to cover!”
“Most of the personal banks will not hold more than a hundred thousand dollars at any one time, the city reserves hold much more substantial quantities of both currency and gold.”
“Sir, I have Commander Denton for you,” said Barski.
“Put it on speaker.”
“Commander, you’re live with ten of my team and also Sergeant Nowak of Precinct 12 of the Marsau Police.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I am sorry to inform you that we have no further information of note. Marsau is the predicted target by a panel of experts but it has not come from any notable information. A number of the colonies are still fighting our request for information regarding previous incidents. At this stage you are going to have to make the most of what you have, try and establish an idea of where they’ll hit and get your men in place. Beyond that, you’ll just have to wait for your first crime scene and work from there.”
“Thank you, Commander, Kaufman out.”
He looked around the room, it was clear that they all felt as lost as he did. They were on a foreign world with no intel on their situation and no substantial leads, and with the pressure of the President bearing down on them to get results.
“Sergeant Nowak, we need your insight here. The gangs we are after are numerous, but they tend to loosely follow the same pattern. They look for banks or similar buildings with substantial quantities of money, gold or other valuables, either kept on a regular or temporary basis. They have been known to hit cash trucks. They also use fast cars or ships to escape, meaning their targets will need to be close to clear road networks.”
Nowak slid out a keyboard from under the desk and input some information. The map dimmed slightly, with the banks lighting up a vibrant blue, the city reserves red.
“These are all of the potential facilities in the city. Traffic is always pretty heavy around here, but there are quieter times of the day, mostly in the afternoon when everyone returns from their lunch breaks.”
“When will that be?” asked Kaufman.
“In about half an hour.”
“Alright, is there any chance the Chief would spare us some officers?”
“No, Sir, not without concrete evidence. He doesn’t believe that anyone would dare hit the city, it’s the most well protected and congested on the planet.”
“Damn it. Right, we’ll have to manage. Sergeant, if you had to say which were the six most likely targets, with the lowest security, best road access and least resistance, which would you choose?”
“Well none of the city reserves, they are all guarded by Civil Defence forces. Many of the banks in the city centre are not easily accessible by vehicle at any time of day.”
Nowak pulled up a checklist box displayed on the side of the table and began to drag items from the list on his flat display panel onto it.
“Those twelve are all potentials in my book.”
“I only have enough men to cover six Sergeant, even then it’s a stretch.”
“Then it’s going to be working on a hunch more than any info here.”
“That’s more than what we have to go on, Sergeant.”
He quickly flicked through the list and within ten seconds he had removed four of the twelve. Kaufman was already impressed with his decisiveness and ability to work under pressure. He only hoped that his knowledge and insight would pay off. Nowak’s finger was shifting between the last few, desperately trying to make a difficult judgement call. Finally he deleted two more.
“Sir, this is the best I can do.”
“Display what we have left on this map, and also our ship at the docking bay. Moments later Kaufman hit the intercom button which put him directly in touch with their ship.
“IBI1, this Kaufman.”
“This is Denver, Sir.”
“Sergeant, there is an opening of a couple of hours coming up which is the most likely time a heist would happen. We have pinned it down to six banks in the city, it’s going to spread us thin but it will have to do. Split Charlie and Delta teams up into three squads and dispatch each out to the addresses that are being forwarded to you now. Stake out the banks and be ready for anything. You have thirty minutes tops.”
“Affirmative, Denver out.”
“I’ll take Travers and Weber. Lopez and Anders, you’re with Barski. Lin, you take Zaya, Ryan and Taylor. I’ll take the Bank of Marsau, Barski, Mars Group Inc., Lin, Citicorp. Use the skin projectors on the cars to present something mundane. Last thing we want is a gang seeing unmarked black cruisers outside a bank. Got it?”
The sergeants nodded in agreement.
“Sergeant Nowak, thank you for your efforts, I hope to be in touch soon.”
* * *
Kaufman had been sitting at the wheel of the Ford for twenty minutes outside the Bank of Marsau. Drawing back on his Baracoo cigarette, he stared intently at the entrance to the grandiose building. Dozens of people went in and out of the entrance every minute, beneath the towering columns of the financial structure.
Mars had become an exceptionally successful and popular planet, much to the dismay of the population of Earth. It had the second largest colony of humans after the home planet, and was quickly becoming vitally important to trade and business in the System. Many feared they would make an attempt at independence, as increasing numbers of people felt they were unfairly treated and taxed by the predominately Earth controlled government.
“Eric, Max here, should we check in with the teams?”
“No, if they had anything to report we’d be the first to know about it.”
“This is shit, we have no solid leads
to go on, we are guessing at best.”
“Tell me about it.”
The car went silent again, the street noise dulled out by the thick armour and re-enforced glass of their vehicle.
“I’ve got possible movement at Mars Group,” said Barski.
“This is Kaufman, how sure are you?”
“Two vehicles have just arrived and have positioned themselves either side of the bank, they could be lookouts.”
“Max, I need a judgement call, if it’s them you’ll need as much backup as you can get.”
“It’s them! All units, I need backup, now!” shouted Max.
“All units, step on it!” ordered Kaufman.
Barski leapt out his car, his pistol drawn before the door was fully open. A third vehicle had pulled up outside the bank and three men had got out and walked into the bank, guns partially hidden at their sides beneath their coats. The sergeant and his team were still unseen by the criminals. Barski ducked down with his two team members behind the car.
“You’ve seen the two cars that pulled up a few minutes before, it’s almost certain they are involved. You both swing right through the parked vehicles, I’ll take the left flank.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for backup, Sir?” asked Lopez.
“They’ll be long gone before any of our guys arrive. This is the only lead we have, let’s do this, go!”
Barski ran quickly along the cover of the vehicles parked opposite the bank. He popped his head up over the hood of a parked taxi. He knew they were outmanned, but there was nothing he could do about it. Gunshots rang out inside the bank, shortly followed by screams of panic from within the building.
“This is Barski, wait until they leave the building.”
He stayed knelt down behind the car. He hated waiting, but he knew that they could not afford a large-scale hostage situation. He could only hope that some of the teams could reach them in time, but he had no such luck. Moments later the front doors slid open and three men rushed out of the building, each with a large holdall thrown over their shoulder.
“Go, go, go!” shouted Barski.
He jumped up from behind the car, his handgun raised and ready to fire.
“Stop right there!”
The man at the front of the group lifted a submachine gun and opened fire on full automatic, bullets whizzed past the sergeant’s head as he rushed to the cover of another parked vehicle. Perspex shattered above his head and the car’s bodywork rang out with the impact of the rounds. Looking up the street he could see his team huddled behind a car twenty metres away.
Barski jumped up from behind the car and fired three shots at the three men who were using a car parked alongside their getaway vehicle for cover. They ducked back behind the vehicle, unable to make a run for it. The doors of a vehicle opened just a few metres away from his position, the car he had thought to be a lookout for the criminals. A gun appeared from the door before the man holding it was visible. Barski took aim and fired several shots into the doorway, forcing the man to stay inside the vehicle.
Lopez and Anders jumped up from their vehicles as the three targets made a run for their vehicle. The two officers fired several shots but were met with a hail of automatic fire. Barski turned quickly to look at the vehicle he had shot at, a gun was pointed around the open door at him and it fired several times, one of the shots hitting him square in the chest, knocking him flat to the ground.
Lopez let out a cry of pain as a bullet hit his right arm near the shoulder, causing his weapon to drop to the floor and him alongside it. The engines of the getaway car roared to life. As the three gang vehicles lifted off to take to the highway, Anders fired repeatedly at them, shattering the back window of the main vehicle. Shots rang out in return as the vehicle sped away. Bullets ricocheted around Anders until one finally skimmed his neck, shaving skin from his body and drawing blood.
Holding his bleeding neck with his hand, Anders watched as the three vehicles soared off into the sky without opposition, long past the reach of their teams.
“Shit!” he shouted.
Chapter 5
“Kaufman! What the hell happened? I’ve got Senator Wilks breathing down my neck and the President down his!” shouted Denton.
“Sir, my men were severely outmanned and outgunned,” replied Kaufman.
“Why? I have given you a sizeable team of the best!”
“Sir, with all due respect, with what little intel we had, we were spread thin across the city. It was a miracle we managed to get any men on the scene at all.”
“Christ, this is bad Eric. The information coming out is still sketchy and no one here knows your people were involved, as of yet, we’ll keep it that way as long as we can. If Wilks finds out your people were there and bodged the job there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Sir, I only need one thing right now, intel. Without solid information I cannot put the resources I have at my disposal to use.”
“We’ll do what we can from our end, but you’re the detective, Lieutenant, get your act together!”
“Yes, Sir,” Kaufman replied with gritted teeth.
Eric walked from the reception area he had been waiting back towards the room where his team were being treated in the hospital. The three wounded men were all sat up on beds. Barski’s shirt was off, his head dipped and feeling both pain and disappointment. The sergeant’s chest had a large black bruise where his body armour had taken a heavy hit. Anders was having a dressing applied to his neck wound and Lopez had a nurse putting stitches in the wound in his arm.
Looking around the room, Kaufman could both see and feel the disappointment that overshadowed them all. Six of the team were there, the rest having returned to the ship or police precinct to pursue any info they may have. The privacy laws restricting public video surveillance outside of privately owned interior spaces had seriously hindered many investigations over the years, but there was nothing they could do to change that.
The nurse finally finished up with Lopez as he looked up at Kaufman, a sheepish expression on his face. It showed that his pride was hurt more than his body, the bullet having exited cleanly out of the arm. Kaufman shut the door to the room as the two nurses left, the sound of the hospital immediately being drowned out.
“Listen up, all of you. We are down, but we’re not out. Most of these gangs do several jobs before moving on, this is their first. We still have a chance of tracking these bastards down. So far the story of our involvement today has stayed out of the news, but that doesn’t change the fact that another crime has taken place.”
The men all looked to Kaufman for answers, but he was still no wiser. He was used to spending weeks on investigative measures, now he was fighting the clock with barely any information to work on at all.
“Stay positive, we have not got the time to weaken our resolve now. Barski, I need a word.”
The bruised sergeant stood up from his bed and pulled his shirt on, wincing at the pain of the bruising as he did so. They went out into the hospital corridor.
“What is it?” asked Max.
“You faced up against them, I need an assessment of how you think we could have succeeded there.”
“We needed more guys, more guns.”
“We have both, but we need the intel to allow us to put those resources into the places they are needed.”
“Agreed.”
“Seems to me we need some help. We’re all on a foreign world, we need someone with more experience here.”
“What did you have in mind?”
* * *
Kaufman and Barski walked back into Precinct 12 where they had been earlier that day. They quickly looked around the room, checking all of the faces in sight until they found what they were looking for. The two officers strode up to a desk where Nowak was flicking through files on several screens.
“Sergeant Nowak.”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied.
Nowak was a calm and confident man. He would be ideally suited to running the pre
cinct but, for whatever political reasons, his career had never advanced beyond sergeant. Perhaps it was just as well, as it was what he was best at.
“Sergeant, can we have a word in the conference room?”
“Sure.”
He got up and led them to the room that was still empty and just as they had found it that morning.
“What can I do for you, Sir?” asked Nowak.
“Sergeant, you know the job we are doing, it is a vitally important task requested by the President. It is the key to solving crime across the colonies and ensuring a safe environment and economy for everyone.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Quite frankly, your intel is the only information which has been remotely useful to us so far, we need someone with your experience of the city and planet, as well as your personal abilities.”
“You offering me a job, Sir?”
“Officially we can only operate with twenty officers at any one time. However, Lopez was wounded and will need a few days recovery before he is back to any serious work. You can keep your rank in name, but not in authority. I am asking you to come on board with us. The job we do is risky, and I can almost guarantee that we’ll have a fulltime opening for you soon.”
“Sir, I’m fifty-six years old, a beat cop, how on earth can I help?”
“Those two attributes are the very reason. Our team is full of young guys from specialist departments and teams. We don’t have anyone with your experience of the streets nor years of service. You have proven your worth today already, I only ask that you continue to do so.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Lieutenant. Men will fight with the utmost ruthlessness for money. I guarantee you that you will forever be fraught with corruption and bribery.”
“Those are some of the very reasons this organisation was set up. Everyone within the IBI receives three times their equivalent salary in their previous jobs. This is a reflection of the risk of the work, and some attempt to counteract the corruption.”
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