by J. N. Chaney
Devin shot a thug behind the couch, who, apparently, thought the furniture’s stuffing would keep .310 rounds from finding him. He was wrong. The man’s chest split apart as two rounds slammed into him, spinning him sideways.
Despite our best efforts however, these thugs were still a formidable foe. I didn’t doubt that they were hopped up on their own product, probably reinforced with a secondary stimulant that made them more aggressive. But as long as we didn’t run out of ammunition—something the supply drones were already taking care of—this would be a battle won by attrition. My hopes were high, when suddenly, Devin slumped behind his crate.
At first, I thought he was reloading. But when he failed to eject his magazine, I realized something else was wrong.
“Devin?” I yelled. “You good?”
He looked around the room, eyes moving groggily.
“Devin, buddy? Look at me, man. You hit?”
Devin’s eyes finally found my face. He blinked. I saw a trickle of blood appear in the corner of his mouth. Son of a bitch!
“Washburn! I need a recovery drone!” I yelled over comms. “ASAP!”
“Copy that, sir,” she replied.
I sprayed a burst of automatic fire downrange and then crossed the aisle to Devin’s side. As I ran across the open lane, a stray bullet grazed the side of my jaw. It felt like someone had laid a hot poker on the side of my face. I swore, grabbed the wound, and then rolled into the shadow of the crates. I pulled my hand away to see it covered in blood. But it was just a flesh wound—it could wait. Devin was the one who needed the real help. I got upright and then ran to him. “Talk to me buddy,” I said, kneeling beside him.
“Keep Lessard—” Devin coughed, spraying my face with blood. “Keep Lessard away from Lisa,” he said.
“What the hells are you talking about?”
“He’s had a thing for her… since the academy.”
“Hells, who hasn’t?”
“I’m not joking,” Devin said, more blood coming from his mouth.
“You do it yourself, you asshole. I ain’t watching out for her. I have my hands full with Heather.”
“Promise me,” Devin said, grabbing my vest. I made to protest yet again, but his eyes went flat. One moment, his soul was there—the next, it was gone. Just like that. I’d seen it happen plenty of times, but nothing prepared me for seeing it in the eyes of my best friend.
“I want these bastards processed by sunup!” I ordered. “And tell the morgue to make space for extra body bags.” Knowing that some of those bags were filled with bodies of Sellion City’s finest was something I’d never be able to reconcile. Worse still, Devin’s body would be coming down those stairs any minute.
I made a fist and slammed it against the dumpster that sat beside the stairwell’s second floor. Technically speaking, the raid had been a success. At least that was how the news would report it. By all accounts, we’d arrested or killed all the major players and seized the largest glimmer supply in history. By all accounts, save mine.
Forensic officers moved in and out of the warehouse as I took several steps away to breathe. I moved toward the mouth of the side alley that immediately disconnected me from much of the cleanup. I unstrapped my helmet and chucked it into the darkness. It clattered to the ground in the shadows. Right now, I didn’t care about the drugs or the drug lords or the headlines. I cared about Lisa and her kids. I had no idea what I was going to tell her. This would destroy her.
Devin never should have been in this raid. He should have been back in the command truck with me. Had I been a better commander, I would have insisted on it. I would have fought him harder when he protested. But I’d given in. Because that was what I know I would have wanted him to do with me were the roles reversed. And then it would be my body going in a bag, not his. And he’d have to deal with Heather—gods help him.
“You’re a son of a bitch, Devin,” I said to the night.
“What was that?” asked a familiar voice.
I turned to see someone walking toward me, their body silhouetted against the police lights. As he neared, I could see it was Lessard—quite literally the last person on the planet that I wanted to talk to.
“What do you need, Lessard?” I asked.
“I just thought you were talking to someone out here and came to see who it was.”
“I’m all set, thanks.”
“Are you, though? Because the guilt you must be feeling right now…”
“I’ve got things to oversee, Lessard. Excuse me.” I made to walk by him, but he caught me by the arm.
“I just wanted to warn you,” the chief said.
“Let go of me, Lessard.” I jerked my arm away.
“I wanted you to hear it from me first before it comes on the news.”
“Go irritate someone else,” I said, having no desire to hear anything he had to say right now.
“Your man there botched the whole raid, you know.”
I stopped. “What did you say?”
“It’s so sad too, because he was a good cop. But he couldn’t keep his finger off the trigger.”
“What in the hells are you talking about, Lessard?” I came back around to face him.
“Officer Devin Brown. He failed to conduct himself according to department policies and not only placed the rest of the unit in jeopardy but may have undermined the city’s ability to prosecute these law breakers.”
“Lessard, if you don’t get out of my face right now, I’ll—”
“You’ll what, Chief Detective Reed? Let your temper get the best of you and jeopardize your family and your career by doing something you’d regret?”
“You’re wrong there,” I said, fighting the anger boiling in my chest.
“Wrong?”
“I wouldn’t regret it. Not for one second.”
“Your wife might think otherwise. I bet she leaves you over it.”
I knew he was just taunting me. He wanted me to snap—wanted me to do something stupid. And to be honest, I was awfully damn close to doing just that. Plus, it was not like anyone could see me knocking him out from here. We were half hidden by the alleyway. In the end, it would be his word against mine, and I already knew where the commissioner stood.
“You know what your problem is, Reed? You just…” I saw Lessard’s eyes look past me at something moving in the distance. “Hey! Stop right where you are!” he yelled over my shoulder. His sidearm was up and pointed downrange before the words were barely out of his mouth.
I turned and saw someone in the shadows too. They had something in their hands. I unclipped my sidearm, but kept it holstered. “This is the SCPD!” I said, correcting to Lessard’s improper address. “Get down on the ground and keep your hands where we can see them!”
The individual turned to make a break for it. But just as I leaned forward to take up pursuit, the chief’s pistol exploded in my ear. I stumbled sideways, slamming into some trash cans. I rolled out, gained my feet, and then looked down the alley at the perp. He lay facedown, groaning.
“What the hells, Lessard?” I asked, turning back to the chief. The gunshot drew the attention of several other officers, who started moving our way.
Lessard tilted his head and sucked in a short breath. “Looks like we got another one,” he replied. Then he holstered his weapon and secured it with a snap.
“You don’t know that!” I ran down the alley to inspect the victim. The chief was a damn fool!
I came upon a male, late teens—godsdammit. To the chief’s credit, the kid was dressed like a thug. Even had a “G” tattooed on the side of his neck. Glimmer. But something didn’t feel right. The kid fought against the gunshot wound, sliding his sneakers along the pavement in a desperate attempt to flee. But he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Why’d you sh-shoot me, man?” he said as I stood over him, patting him down.
“I didn’t shoot you, kid,” I replied.
“Why, man? I didn’t do nothing.”
My ha
nds stopped on a pistol. Tucked safely into his belt.
“I was just bringing ‘em f-food.”
I looked over at the item he’d dropped. It was a grocery bag, its contents spilling out on the pavement. Looked like snacks and a few drinks. Dammit. This kid wasn’t gonna fire on us. He was just their errand boy. Probably a brand new recruit.
“I was just br-bringing… f-food…” he said, his teeth chattering.
That was when I noticed the gunshot wound. Ah, hells—he’d been gut shot. It was bad and he was losing blood fast.
“I need a medic back here!” I yelled to the officers coming down to meet us. I heard two of them relay calls for a paramedic.
Lessard walked up behind me. “Gang banger,” the chief said. “You thought the perp drew his weapon.”
“The hells I did,” I spat, looking up at the chief. “His gun’s still stuffed in his pants.”
“That’s a damn shame,” he said. “Someone’s son isn’t coming home tonight. Too bad it’s gonna be on your tab.”
I stood up slowly. “And just what the hells is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you’re the one who shot him.”
I looked at him as if he’d sniffed some of the glimmer we’d just confiscated. “Are you out of your godsdamned mind, Lessard? There’s no way you’re pinning this on me. It was your damn weapon that killed him.”
“No it wasn’t,” he said. He held up a pistol. “Mine’s still holstered.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, Lessard…” I felt for my sidearm. It was gone. I looked down to see my holster—empty. Then I glanced at Lessard’s hip to see his weapon safely stowed. He must’ve grabbed mine when I started running, and I didn’t even notice because of how fast he fired… and then I fell into the garbage cans.
“You son of a bitch!” I yelled.
“Just take your damn weapon.”
“No way I’m touching that.” But I realized the error of the statement as soon as I’d uttered it: my prints were already all over it.
“Take your sidearm, Chief Detective Reed!” Lessard yelled much more loudly than he needed to—right as four officers slowed to a stop around us.
“This isn’t over,” I said.
“You’re right,” Lessard whispered, leaning in. “I need to go let Lisa Brown know what happened to her poor husband since you’ll be in questioning for all of this,” he said, twirling his finger over the kid bleeding out at our feet.
I swung at Lessard. But the damn prick backed away from it.
“Restrain the detective!” he ordered the officers around us. They glanced between us but ultimately followed their chief’s orders.
“This isn’t over by a long shot,” I said as I fought against my captors.
“Yes it is, Reed. You just don’t know it yet.”
8
When my eyes opened following Lars’s probings, the first thing I noticed was how good I felt. Great was more like it. The pain had been reduced to a dull ache and a little soreness. I touched my temple and felt a patch over the place Erikson had struck me.
“I see you are awake now, sir,” said Lars. “How do you feel?”
“I feel pretty damn—hold on a second.” I sat upright. “You drugged me!”
“Yes, I did. However, might I remind you that you did say—” a recording of my own voice came through the comms in my ears— “‘Do what you need to do, Lars.’”
“No need to get testy with me,” I said. I rubbed my bicep and looked down to examine my leg. Damn, he did good work. “I’m just saying it caught me off guard is all. You could have at least informed me beforehand.”
“Understood, sir. My apologies.”
“Everything look okay, though?”
“Yes,” Lars said. “You had severe lacerations in your calf and several minor ones in your feet. You also suffered a mid-grade concussion, contusions in your arms, legs, and torso, and—”
“Got it,” I interrupted, trying to stand. “Erikson banged me up.”
“I believe that is an accurate colloquial description.”
I attempted to sit up but got dizzy.
“I advise giving yourself one more minute, sir,” Lars said.
“Roger that,” I said, falling back into the chair. “How long was I out?”
“Twelve minutes, sir.”
Twelve minutes, plus tracking the assailants to the twenty-sixth sub-floor, and a few minutes fighting Erikson… “How long has it been since these guys entered the building, Lars? Can you track that?”
“Of course, sir. It has been exactly thirty-four minutes since the criminals entered the premises.”
“Dammit.” That left twenty-six minutes before they did whatever they were going to do with the hostages. Not good. Not good at all. “I’ve gotta get a move on, Lars. I can’t let them murder all those people.”
“You suspect they will kill the hostages?” Lars asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. This isn’t going to end well for them.” I tried sitting up again, this time without the dizziness, when a thought hit me. “Hold on a second. You’re integrated with the building, aren’t you. That’s how you were able to direct me and let me know how far out Oubrick’s men were.”
“I do have access to some of the building’s systems infrastructure, that’s correct,” Lars replied.
“Well, that’s… that’s great! Then all we need to do is have you keep those bastards in the vault and deactivate the lockdown protocol. Then we can call the SCPD and—”
“I’m sorry to cut you off, sir, but you are getting ahead of things, as it were.”
“How do you mean?”
“Based upon your assertions, I believe some clarification is needed as to precisely what systems I have access to in the complex.”
“What systems?” I echoed. “You mean… so what you’re saying is, you don’t have control over the building. You’re not fully integrated.”
“Hardly, sir.”
“Damn.”
“I believe there is a bright side, as you say,” replied Lars with a cheerful tone to his voice.
“And what’s that?”
“Were I as integrated as you assume, we would not be talking at present. Moreover, you would be dead.”
“You’re really not going to let me live that down, are you.”
“The lockdown protocol would have shut me down until the deactivation code was entered.”
“So what you’re saying is that it’s a good thing you’re not a part of the building’s security system.”
“Entirely, sir. Instead, I am an independent entity, based here in Mr. Oragga’s office.”
“So you have access to the cameras, but not the doors or their locking mechanisms?” I asked.
“Correct. Though I have been attempting to break through the security systems firewall since the moment it was activated. I will let you know if and when I am successful in gaining access to any systems.”
“How about comms? You’re obviously speaking over mine. Any chance you can get word to the outside?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. While I am able to monitor and broadcast on all frequencies, the lockdown has limited my activity to internal communications only. As for the enemy comm in your left ear, I am able to broadcast to it without the transmission going to other units.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” I scratched my stubble, thinking. Lars having eyes around the building was definitely an advantage. I could easily track enemy movements, whereas they couldn’t track any of mine. Or could they?
“Lars?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Can those guys monitor the security cameras?”
“Yes. However, only from the one terminal in the lobby. Since that is the computer that initiated the lockdown protocol, it is likewise the computer that serves as the hub until such time as the initiative is rescinded.”
Well, that wasn’t ideal. But it was better than them having a Lars on their side. Wait…
“Lars, they don’t have a you, do they?”
“If by you, you mean an artificial intelligence, no. I am the only advanced computing system in Oragga Complex.”
“Good,” I said, savoring the win.
“And, if you would like, it looks like I can manipulate the security feeds they are seeing.”
“You can?”
“Yes. While I cannot shut down the lockdown terminal, I can alter what’s being sent to it.”
“Alter? Like how?”
“Well, because of my access to the sensors, I can terminate all data flow to the terminal.”
“Terminate? As in, make them go dark?”
“That is correct. Would you like me to execute that action?”
I thought about it for a second. “That will make them suspicious,” I said. “And right now, I want to use anonymity to my advantage. Our advantage. But…” I scratched the side of my face. “Can you—I don’t know—loop the feeds or something? Make it look like the cameras are functioning the way they’re supposed to but keep my movements concealed?”
“I can do that for whatever area you are moving through, yes. The rest of the areas will operate normally in order not to raise their suspicions.”
“Lars? I’m already starting to like you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
So we had eyes and ears, but we still needed more muscle. There was no way I could pick off eleven more well-armed enforcers in less than twenty-five minutes. “We’ve got to delay them and think of a way to call for backup.”
“Do you have something in mind, sir?” Lars asked.
“Actually, I think I do. We need to make a scene.”
“A scene, sir?”
“Make some noise, get the city’s attention.”
“I see. After reviewing your history on file with city records, it seems you have an aptitude for making scenes.”
“Hey, who gave you permission to… you know what? Never mind. Let’s stay focused on the immediate situation.”
