Book 2: Chapter 9: Aftermath and Ruination
Book 2: Chapter 9: Aftermath and Ruination
“The FBI are going to lose their shit,” Ito commented idly.
“They’ll try to take over the investigation,” the other officer, who had introduced himself as Mike Perez, noted sourly.
“Is that a bad thing?” Dan asked curiously. “They’ve got more resources than the APD, right?”
“Meddling bastards,” Perez shot back. “This is our city! Our citizens that are under attack! The feds don’t care about that. They’re only interested in the good press they’ll get from ‘avenging’ one of their own.”
Dan shrugged. “Do their reasons matter? If the problem gets solved, why should anyone care what the motives were?”
“It’s not that simple,” Ito cut in. “Whatever help the feds provide for Austin, eventually they’ll have to leave, and we’ll be stuck with whatever’s left. The APD will look incompetent, like we can’t handle our own business. The department’s funding has been cut every year for the past decade, and recruitment is at an all time low. We can’t afford to show any weakness. We need a win, not for Langley to swoop in and save the day. Even if they win, we’ll lose.”
“So short-term good but long-term bad?” Dan tried to clarify.
Ito nodded. “If you like.”
“Kenny! Daniel!” a voice boomed across the parking lot. Every officer in earshot flinched, while several paramedics rushing out of the damaged buildings nearly tipped their stretchers in surprise. Gregoir Pierre-Louise had arrived at the scene, and everyone in the county now knew it.
The giant blonde strode his way towards Dan’s little gathering, his massive strides eating up the distance as people scrambled out of his way. Slightly behind him, Dan caught sight of Connor and Freya. The two rookie officers were glancing around the devastation with barely concealed horror. Their scan of the area eventually brought them to where Dan stood. Eye contact was made, and Dan got a brief nod from them both. The pair held a brief conversation, then Connor set off after Gregoir, while Freya moved towards the few conscious victims of the attack that were still being interviewed by officers.
Gregoir’s meaty bicep wrapped itself around Dan’s shoulder the moment he came into range. The other grabbed Ito, pulling them both forward into the Frenchman’s barrel chest. “It’s good that you are both well, my friends!” he cried emotionally. “When I heard the news I feared the worst!”
Perez watched them both squirm out of Gregoir’s embrace with a look of profound pity.
“None of us were here when things went down, Gregoir,” Dan said, finally freeing himself.
“True, but you’ve both experienced the aftermath!” he declared, loudly. “Such terrible barbarism leaves a mark that cannot be denied. I was worried for your psyche, but the fortitude of my bosom companions clearly knows no bounds!”
Dan winced, and covered his face, as about fifty pairs of eyes briefly turned his way from across the parking lot.
“That’s… nice of you to say, Gregoir.” He didn’t have it in him to scold the big man.
“Lower your voice you great oaf!” Ito had no such compunctions.
The insult was like water off a duck’s back to Gregoir. He took it without even breaking stride.
“You’re right, of course,” he boomed, his voice as modulated as it’d ever been. “‘Tis a sad day, I can take no joy in it. Have we discovered the source of this atrocity?”
“Homicide is looking into it now. Baker’s got the lead,” Ito replied.
Connor arrived at last, eyes still wide at the ruination surrounding him. He looked to Ito “What happened here, sir?”
“A fight between mutates, rookie,” Ito answered simply. He turned to Gregoir. “We think it was the Coldeyes, given the ice. But we aren’t sure why.”
“Was there video?” Gregoir asked.
“Taken out before the act,” Ito said. He rubbed his chin. “Which is damnably odd. The scene reads like an act of surprise, or desperation. It’s rare to see this kind of collateral damage, even from Coldeyes. Our initial assumption was that a group of Coldeyes ran into some Scales, and things kicked off.”
“If they took the time to destroy the surveillance cameras, that speaks of premeditation. Or at least a crime of opportunity, not desperation.” Connor noted.
The young man took a look over the ground. The concrete was still stained bright red, and bloody water ran across the parking lot towards a sewer grate. Connor grimaced at the image, and shook his head.
“Lots of red.”
“That’s what happens when people die, rookie,” Perez noted grimly.
“No, that’s not—” Connor frowned. “Scales bleed green.”
“Say what now?” Dan interrupted.
“Scales,” Connor repeated, turning to Dan. “One of the mods that they give their members makes them bleed green. Don’t ask me why; it’s just something they do.”
“What, all of them?” Perez asked. “I thought that was a rumor.”
“No, it seems to be true,” Ito confirmed. He eyed the young rookie. “We don’t spread it around, though. Your uncle talks too much.”
Connor coughed nervously.
“So… no green blood, means no Scales, right?” Dan asked. “Then what the fuck happened? Why do all this?”
“The better question, I think, is why were they here to begin with?” Connor stated. “This isn’t gang territory. Hell, my old high school is three blocks away! Even if it were rival gangs fighting, what exactly were they fighting over?”
“Something for Homicide to find out, I should think,” Ito interrupted the rampant speculation. He nodded in the distance, at an approaching officer. “Here’s Baker, now.”
Detective Baker was a squat, heavily built Caucasian man. His head was shaved and waxed, and he had a thick goatee streaked with grey. His button down shirt was soaked with grime and sweat, and he’d looped his suit jacket through his finger and had it slung over his shoulder.
“Sergeant,” he greeted Ito. His gaze wandered over the gathering. “…And company.”
Dan offered the man a half-hearted wave of his hand.
Baker seemed to consider that for a moment, before plowing on. “I’m about done here, Kaneda. Nobody here has any fucking clue what went down. I need to get to the hospital and interview whoever I can get my hands on that’s conscious, while everything’s fresh.”
Ito grunted in affirmation. “Fair enough. Any initial thoughts?”
“Well I think we can rule out the Scales,” Baker said. “I didn’t find any blood or… bits that would indicate a heavily modded individual. None of the bodies we pulled out were over-modded, either.” He ran a hand over his bald head, wiping away a sheen of sweat. “You saw the cameras were out. I took a closer look at ’em. They were filled with water, Kaneda. With big ass holes in their sides. All the cameras went down at the same time, so this was coordinated. Fuck knows why here, of all places. This ain’t Coldeyes’ territory, or anyone else’s neither.”
“Yes, that’s the conclusion we came to,” Ito said, nodding at Connor, who brightened at the subtle acknowledgement.
“It’s FUBAR, Kaneda,” Baker continued. “We need eyes on these guys ASAP. Think you can talk to Captain Gable about getting footage from some of these street cameras? We need to figure out what happened here. I’m worried a war is about to kick off and we’re gonna get caught with our pants down.”
“Yeah, well we’ve got bigger problems than that,” Ito replied. He turned to Dan. “Show him what you found, Daniel.”
Dan passed over the stack of cards. Baker leafed through them, brow furrowed.
“James Webb?” He flipped to the FBI card. “He’s a spook? Fuck me! Tell me you didn’t find this here?”
“Off a body in the florist,” Dan nodded. “Some piece of shit launched a block of ice the size of a small car through that place, and this poor guy was standing in its path.”
“The FBI are going to lose their shit,” Baker echoed Ito perfectly. “Ito, we need to put a hold on this. When are we allowing the press past the checkpoint?”
“Soon as the site is clean and safe. Did you need me to—”
“I’m sorry,” Connor broke in. His face was pale as a ghost, his expression, stricken. He stared, horrified, at the bundle of cards in Baker’s hands. Strangely, his gaze seemed to fall on the florist’s. “Did you say James Webb?”
Baker blinked at him, then glanced at the card. “James Webb, yes. You know him?”
“I, we— that is, my partner and I…” He glanced backwards, searching for Freya. Dan could just about pick out her platinum hair past the crowd of officers moving in and out of the broken buildings. Connor turned back, blinking rapidly. “We answered a noise complaint at James Webb’s house just yesterday afternoon. He and his wife were arguing. I…” He swallowed deeply. “I recommended he buy her some flowers.” He reached out, shakily plucking the Flower Shed’s business card out of Baker’s hands. “I gave him this card. He was here because I suggested it. And now he’s dead.” He looked so young in that moment, only a heartbeat away from breaking down. “He’s dead because…”
“Because a group of horrible people decided to attack a shopping center,” Gregoir interrupted fiercely. His giant hand came down on Connor’s shoulder, nearly toppling the younger officer. “You bear no responsibility for the actions of others. You meant to help, and that intention was good, and right. You mustn’t castigate yourself for it.”
The shock of being slapped by a giant Viking shook Connor out of his reverie. He staggered upright, taking a deep, shaky breath. He was clearly nowhere near alright. Blame sat heavy in his stomach, a blind man could see it. But he gathered himself, and spoke.
“I’d like permission to inform his widow,” he said firmly. “She needs to be told before the press get ahold of this. I won’t have her finding out from her television.”
Ito considered him, then glanced in the distance towards Freya.
“Fine,” he decided. “You know what you can and can’t say, yes?”
“Of course,” Connor acknowledged.
“Take your partner with you.” Ito ordered. “Once it’s done, your shift is over. Go home, get some rest. Then take a personal day.”
“I’m fine!” Connor insisted. “I can help!”
“Take a personal day,” Ito repeated. “Go… do whatever it is young people are supposed to do. Get drunk. Watch a movie. I don’t know.”
“We were supposed to have a get-together at my place, tonight,” Dan stated somberly. “Abby’ll be back in a few hours. I suppose a party is out of the question, now.”
“The timing is poor,” Gregoir agreed. “I’m afraid that I’ll have to retract my RSVP. I suspect a great deal of overtime in my near future.” He turned to Connor. “But you should still go, my young comrade! Spend some time among dear companions and wash away the misery of the day! It will do you good, and clear your mind!”
Connor looked unconvinced, but the massive amount of respect he held for the veteran officer seemed to sway his decision. “Very well.” He turned to Dan. “Newman, I guess I’ll be seeing you tonight.”
“Yeah.” Dan sighed. “I think my role here is done, so I’m gonna head out. Tell Freya I said hello. Later, fellas.”
Connor, Ito and Perez gave him a nod. Gregoir beamed. Baker simply looked confused. Dan didn’t bother to explain. He vanished into t-space.
He came back to reality in his laundry room. Mechanically, Dan stripped off his filthy clothes and dumped them into his machine. His next blink put him in the shower, and a swipe of his hand sent hot water cascading over his head and down his back. He let the heat soothe his muscles, and the stress slowly melted away.
Once he was finished, and dry, he fell into bed. Minutes passed, as he stared blankly at his ceiling. The events of the day were already a blur. The horrifying images had faded into a kaleidoscope of red. He’d seen worse, after all.
It didn’t make things any easier.
Dan pulled out his phone and brought up Abby’s name. He checked the time, noting that she was still airborne. For all the technological improvements of this dimension, they still hadn’t cracked airborne cellular use. Or maybe they had, but disallowed it anyway. Regardless, he couldn’t call her. He wanted to hear her voice.
He never did buy her that gift.
Dan looked at his phone for several seconds, then began to compose a message. He’d send it, and she’d get it the moment she landed and turned on her phone. It was the next best thing to talking to her.
Hey Abby, he typed. Something awful happened today…