“Growing up, I wanted to be a veterinarian—that's why I still tour the city trying to check out different species and visit any shelters they have left; I love animals. I'd keep a pet around, but I'm always doing something for work or having to travel somewhere and ugh…” She sighed. “Sometimes it's nice to take a break from being everybody's problem solver, you know?”
Tavon finally spoke: “But if it wasn't for your job, we would've never met.”
“I still remember it… what you did on that day.”
Aaliyah told their story, a tragic and violent first encounter.
-
Aaliyah
-
The Dawn Bureau had sent me out to the field on a case I thought was finally worthy of my talents, and I'll admit that I was more nervous than I'd ever been in my life.
Following my time at university, I'd decided to get involved with Zone C's police; they enlisted me at a higher rank (Public Enforcer-Bravo) due to my credentials. Growing up had pitted me against rougher folk, people who never reflected on the consequences of their actions, moral or not.
I suffered because of them, so I decided to do something to fight back.
I wanted to be directly involved in the Citadel's War on Crime because I'd felt like a victim my entire life until the day I put on that uniform… until the day I could shoot back.
I decided I wasn't going to get fucked with anymore and ignored what everyone else around me made of their lives; it’s because I didn’t care about what everyone else was focused on that I rose through the ranks quickly even though I came in with a big mouth—which is exactly what you're not supposed to do. Afterwards, I interviewed to join the Bureau and royally pissed off all of the other police officers in Zone C. To them, it was a betrayal although they'd constantly tried to undermine me the entire time I served. To them, I was a threat… but I enjoyed that status.
The Citadel is divided into multiple jurisdictions and contains a branch covering every necessary section of government, but the Dawn Bureau is an entity remaining outside of conventional law enforcement. They’re another of the old regime's unique spins on civilization. In a word, Bureau Agents have near unlimited freedom to seek prosecution—to kick ass—and this has always created a rivalry between regular Zone “cops” and Bureau Agents who end up stigmatized as people who do whatever they want.
Within the Dawn Bureau, there are a reported twenty divisions—and I'm not going to go over all of them, but I requested to be placed in either the Behavioral Management Division or Homicide. I was trying to explore a field I thought would be more unique, something to keep me from getting bored, you know? There was a shortage of agents at the time, and so they chose to train me so that I could fulfill the roles of both—go figure.
Behavioral Management focuses on subtle psychological trends in the Citadel which are harming the population, and they utilize specific Agents in covert operations to conduct surveillance on government workers in the public sector. They track the workers’ records in order to reduce corruption of general consciousness… which there's clearly been a lot of lately. We're overwhelmed with work right now, and with President Derek entering retirement soon, our entire infrastructure will be changed to reflect new leadership.
The Homicide Branch is primarily issued cases that have either gone unsolved for too long by the efforts of local police, cases with high profile murders demanding extra attention, or cases that are simply too complex and require advanced tech that can't be legally used by conventional police.
I was warned that working two different divisions would make my job a living hell and more than double expectations of my performance; despite all the bullshit, though, the room for professional growth was worth it to me—not to mention I would go from my rank now, Corporal, to Sergeant in a shorter amount of time if my work for those departments was solid.
And so, against the advice of friends and what family I had left, I took on the challenge—and quickly found myself buried in mountains of paperwork, often spending lonely nights in the company of a bottle of cheap wine. I was officially a detective, but it felt like my life was over… until a Sergeant in Homicide broke a case way the hell open for us all and reminded us of why we serve.
I remember a gathering of detectives huddled around what was supposed to be my new workspace and having some childish pissing contest to see who could come up with the best plan of action.
This next part still amazes me to this day:
The lead man, who'd done all the leg work and gotten the case approved by Lieutenant Shraeu, was ordered to stop everything he'd been working on and to prepare for a Review Board; if he rocked it, he'd make Sergeant within a month’s time.
This guy had been the point of contact behind a murder mystery that had invited the attention of the “Administrator” of the Bureau, someone we'd never met but who breathed down our necks using messengers for a year. In short, a Vice Executive in the Mid-City had been killed; someone hanged his body by his hands and left him tied to a bridge in Zone E.
His tongue had been removed along with his ears postmortem, and there was a bullet hole in his head as well as multiple stab wounds across his abdomen…
It was a gruesome sight, a scene that took up every media outlet. The Citadel government intervened and prevented any further spread of information following the incident.
The initial investigation turned out to be a total mess. We ended up with no real intelligence to go on, and the media made us look like a complete joke. I couldn't stand looking incompetent and neither could anyone else in the Bureau, so we decided to work with Zone E's police department to apply pressure on all known gangs in that sector.
Lieutenant Shraeu generally approved of almost nearly any method that would get someone—anyone, really, to talk about what had gone down. It had been something surreal; a brutal murder on public display…
And sure enough, a seventeen-year-old boy barged into the police station and, to everyone’s shock, confessed to the murder. Soon after, he was charged with manslaughter and put through a psych evaluation to determine if the attack had been deliberate or was the result of some mental illness.
What the Bureau did… what Shraeu allowed… I'm still trying to understand his intentions, and, in my mind, I can’t justify his actions.
We knew there was no evidence physically linking him, but stories emerged from Shraeu's office describing horrible myths about this kid. It's like they were all playing into some kind of fantasy about a disturbed youth turned killer, and it benefited Agents to punish the culprit as quickly as possible.
Because of upper management's push to move on to other issues and their resulting impatience, the presiding judge responded—after some pressure from Zone E's Executive, of course—by sentencing the boy with the maximum allowable punishment: Death. In a month's time, he was to be processed into the Citadel Prison and later executed by a firing squad with the possibility of appealing for lethal injection instead if he resided there on his best behavior. But the detective manning the case wasn't cool with the result, and I honestly wouldn't have been either because the Bureau hadn't solved anything.
On his own time, this guy decided to visit the seventeen-year-old in prison and interviewed him. To no surprise at all, he ended up learning that the boy had been ordered to help cover up the murder by confessing to the act himself. In return, his baby-mama and daughter would be taken care of for life; he could die knowing he'd done his part in providing for his family. He was trying to act noble…
With this information, the detective took down the names of some possible leads—and while he didn't get information on the actual murderer, he was offered the identities of several lieutenants in a nameless gang that was vying for control of Zone E.
And get this: that same crew ended up having a few connections within the local police department, connections having kept it safe for over a decade.
By interviewing a kid who'd become more terrified of his impending death, the investigator was infor
med of key provinces run by members of the syndicate—areas intentionally ignored by cops who received an outside bump to their paychecks in return. The detective divided his time between working his own cases and staking out those spots in a race to reopen a high-profile case and save an innocent boy's life. Not but a week after he'd done all that work, he managed to finally discover enough evidence that would make all the higher ups lose their shit… while also acknowledging that the job hadn't been finished.
Meanwhile, the gang had simultaneously decided that they were ready to do in one of their own to survive the heat.
An older prostitute, who went by the name of “Lulu,” didn't exactly appreciate the way her handler paid her for her services. She'd suffered some hellish abuse at the hands of a pimp as well as other members of the mob, who believed that she should raise her prices for outsiders while making herself free to anyone happening to swing by her corner who was a part of the crew.
Lulu made the mistake of confiding in one of her girlfriends, and that girlfriend was the loyal lady of a lieutenant who’d started to feel paranoid at the notion that she might try to snitch on their whole operation. As a result of information gathered from his previous interview, the detective trailed Lulu—and while he didn't catch the perpetrator—he did find her body strung up in the same way as the Vice Executive, but instead of being hung she was simply placed in a vacant building, her tongue and ears taken. The same cause of death complete with similar laceration wounds.
For a final move that would ensure his victory, the investigator tracked the other woman with whom Lulu had spoken. Though she'd reported Lulu's feelings to her boyfriend, the woman was stricken with guilt and was suddenly having second thoughts about her man and his associates. The Agent managed to obtain a testimony and even got her to agree to come in to speak to other agents; as a result, Lieutenant Shraeu completely lost his mind and spent hours screaming at his subordinate before bitterly congratulating him on a job well done.
That's when I entered the scene; a fresh face to put the final nail in the coffin to an old case…
-
Janelle
-
“Hold up one moment.” Tavon suddenly said looking up from his tea.
“What's the matter? Does it taste off?”
“No.” He shook his head. “If you don't mind me asking, who was the detective who put in all that extra time? Sounds like a decent guy…”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes and sighed. “Agent—or, my bad—Sergeant Kaust…”
“I see. He got the promotion he deserved.”
“When they took Kaust off the case and started the whole grooming process for his next rank, it seemed like every detective in the office was scrambling to get in on the action. For once, we had the opportunity to target a major crime organization in the Citadel, and it was a case that would look good on our guys while maybe even making an Agent's career. If it worked for Kaust, maybe we had a shot, too…”
“What happened then?”
Aaliyah sighed, her tone emitting frustration, “You should already know about this part…”
“But I want to hear the way you tell it.”
-
Aaliyah
-
It seemed like the very minute I'd made it to my desk, everyone had stopped talking and turned to stare at me. And then, just like that, Lieutenant Shraeu opened the door to his office and shouted my name as well as the name of Sergeant Odwal.
It puzzled me, because the huddle of detectives started cursing and looking at the two of us with envy even though I thought being called in to Shraeu's office was supposed to be a bad thing. Everyone knew I was freshly green, too, so you can guess how bitter the other Agents were that they were getting passed over for some newbie. I hurried into that office so eagerly that I nearly tripped and knocked Odwal down. I then barely managed to get into the right position to render a decent salute to the boss.
“That was cute.” Lieutenant Shraeu snickered but overall maintained a rather serious expression.
Shraeu is a pretty ambitious guy—and sometimes it seems as though it outweighs his good conscience—but just so you can get a good idea of what he looks like: Shraeu's the tallest person in the office and stands at around six feet and five inches. Skinny, somewhat lanky, and rocks long, dark hair that's always caked in gel, and I'm pretty sure my grandfather's grandfather used the same stuff. Whenever he spoke, you could smell Shraeu's breath from three offices over; he always wore a small set of spectacles that made his eyes look huge.
Sergeant Odwal was a few inches shorter than him but much stockier; he kept his hair cropped in a greying, unsightly high and tight. I'm pretty sure he was going blind in one eye, because it always appeared as though it was fading more than its counterpart. Odwal had a short mustache he seemed to take quite some pride in and was constantly attempting to come off like some hard-ass with a chip on his shoulder.
He'd come out of a divorce a few months ago and was rumored to still be taking out all of his frustrations on everybody around him except for the Lieutenant himself—but I wasn't having any of that mess regardless of what the government said his rank was.
I remember the Sergeant giving me the shittiest look after I'd almost stumbled into him, and it was then that I knew I was going to end up telling this guy off before the day was out.
Lieutenant Shraeu clasped his hands together and took a deep breath before addressing us: “Sergeant Odwal,” he began with a mildly exhausted tone, “it's my understanding that you've spent a lot of time running the streets making group busts in the past. You always wait until you've got the ammo before going after a whole ring, and you've one hell of a record—which means you're in better shape than a lot of the dirt bags here. Sergeant,” Shraeu looked to Odwal earnestly, “this notifies me of one thing: you're old school, and right now you fit the profile to head a case that doesn't want to fucking die.”
“I'm honored to have the opportunity, Sir—” Odwal quickly nodded his head.
“Not so fast.” Shraeu held up a hand and pursed his lips. “That being said, you are the recipient of a significant number of write-ups for 'misconduct' in your file—and I'm honestly shocked that you're even allowed to work in this department considering your multiple lapses in judgment when it comes to handling the more… delicate issues.” Shraeu sighed defeatedly. “That, Sergeant, makes you seem dirty, and thus my first impression of you isn't necessarily a good one.” He closed his eyes and appeared thoughtful before continuing. “But what we're about to do here isn't a job for anyone in this office. For the first and only time in my position as an officer, I need you. I need someone who can suck it up and stand firm for a job that might prove to be a little more than you can handle. So,” the Lieutenant smirked, “do you think you're up to the task?”
“Whatever you need, I’ve got it, Sir!” Odwal stated resolutely.
“Good.” Lieutenant Shraeu replied curtly before opening a vanilla folder and quickly rummaging through the files. He peered up and examined me like I was some scrub to him. A brainless grunt to be ordered around…
“Corporal,” he said, “you're new to this department… but I'm well aware of your past 'merits' as well as your history in law enforcement. You graduated at the top of your class at J. L. Allway University and don't seem to have any outstanding negative marks on your record—and most do… so either you've been kissing the right asses or you don't have near the amount of field experience as anyone else here, which poses a major issue for the Bureau if that's the case. It bothers me that you're a new recruit, because I was informed that Homicide is only intended for Bureau veterans—or at least people who've served a similar function in the Federation's military. But whether or not you lack the appropriate experience, I still need someone who can temper Sergeant Odwal's stupidity. We're in the middle of a damn shitstorm with Alandra…” Shraeu stated bitterly. He glanced over at Odwal before looking back at me. “Because the President can't make up his fucking mind about wagi
ng a real war, we're shorthanded in trying to keep updated on the enemy. Though you look like you're fresh out of fucking high school, I need a person with enough of a brain to ensure we do a clean run. We need to file this case away as neatly as possible; the boss has been up my ass since we keep having to revisit one of the biggest fuck ups we've ever presided over. With all that being said, let me tell you what needs to be done; now, do I have your full attention?”
“Yes, Sir.” We both said in unison.
“Damn right.” Shraeu sloppily tossed us both folders containing details for the upcoming mission. “Fortunately, the media hasn't yet caught wind of the whole story. We believe—thanks to a presumptuous asshole who likes to do his own detective work—that a teenager was framed for the murder of Vice Executive Patz in Zone E, and the court has demanded a retrial of him as well as all pertinent information regarding the status of the real murderer. As of now, the Bureau needs a body, preferably alive, and either a full confession or enough evidence to support putting the real perpetrator behind bars where he belongs, pending execution. This is to be a discrete hunt, you two! I've made the case easier for the both of you by giving the clearest fucking intent possible: making use of any resources you need from the Homicide Division of the Dawn Bureau, you will immediately draw all equipment listed in the paperwork that you’ve been assigned. Following that, you will report to a series of locations in order to track a gang member who we currently only know as 'Kip'; the description of 'Kip' has also been stated within the given documents.
“At this time, we suspect that this man either committed the murder himself or regularly meets with a series of individuals who could become potential suspects.” Shraeu reclined back in his seat and picked up a news magazine. “Either way, depending on the way you handle this case, you can either bring in just the murderer or perhaps bust him and several other members at one time for various other crimes. It'll look good on you guys…”
“How do you suggest we bring him in?” Odwal asked.
Shraeu raised an eyebrow. “You have a brain don't you, Sergeant?” He then snickered while throwing his hands up in defeat. “What? You want me to do all the leg work for you, too?” The Lieutenant then declared somewhat angrily: “It's a sham case, motherfuckers.”
Angelos Odyssey Page 17
