His mother had, of course, been absolutely thrilled for the opportunity to come and watch her granddaughter, already awake with one of her cases of insomnia when Cray had called earlier, attempting to balance his phone between his shoulder and cheek while hastily brushing his teeth, and she had teasingly reminded him of such a thing as speaker phone before she hung up. Feeling only mildly embarrassed, Cray had hurried through combing out his hair, donning his work uniform, given himself a wistful look in the mirror at the stubble spotting his cheeks, down to the electric razor resting on the counter, and had hurried quietly out into the living room without a backwards glance. He had just tied his boots into place when his phone vibrated, displaying a new text message from his mother that cheerfully stated she was here and was accompanied by a picture of herself beaming and holding up one of her homemade smoothies.
Sitting in his car now, A spot of toothpaste that had remained on his chin wiped away, Officer Turner took a grateful gulp of the banana peach concoction that he had been presented with, blessing his mother for her insightful nature. Although, who enjoyed getting a chance to make smoothies at four in the morning was beyond him. He would much rather be in bed, asleep. For what felt like the hundredth time already that morning, Cray felt his jaw crack with the strain of yet another yawn as he forced his reluctant body into the motions of preparing for a standoff. Shaking his head sharply once, he finally reached over to turn on his lights, Sending a brilliant set of blue and red beams dancing over everything around him from atop his cruiser. Beginning to speed up automatically, he turned on the piercing siren next, The wail fluctuating between high and low notes. He felt relieved as the cars around him courteously began to move out of the way, the simple gesture something he had struggled with back in Salt Lake more times than he cared for. Smiling ruefully, there was a moment where he had to admit that it probably wasn't as bad as that, but some days had felt like it.
Making faster progress then he had originally anticipated, Cray didn't have long to wait before he had found his destination, a cluster of similarly flashing red and blue lights converging on the same point. Cutting the siren as he screeched to a stop, his hand automatically went to his holster at his hip at the sound of gunfire popping irregularly in front of the warehouse he had stopped in front of. Unhooking his seatbelt, he threw Open his car door and quickly slid into a Crouch behind it, peeking around the edge as he assessed the situation.
What he saw was not pretty. Two groups of men, a cluster to either side of the open warehouse doors, faced off against one another, one with a dark colored van at their backs, explosions causing momentary flashes in Front of faces that were twisted into grimaces and snarls. With his brief glance, he saw at least three bodies laying on the asphalt. Sucking in a breath, Cray quickly cast his gaze towards the other cruisers, spotting others that had crouched behind open doors or stood with their gun balanced on the roof of their car. Movement towards one of the front vehicles gave him a split second warning before he looked away hastily A moment before the flood light was turned on and the scene was bathed in brilliant illumination.
"this is the Cincinnati police!" The megaphone screeched a little as Captain Hernan Castellanos spoke loudly into it, The noise coming from near where the flood light rested. "Drop your weapons and get down on your knees! Hands behind your head!"
Instead of easy compliance, and to know one's surprise, chaos erupted in front of the warehouse almost immediately. Several shots were directed at the police officers, a few of those men that had attacked going down quickly with the return fire, but the rest scattered. Several jumped into the dark van, the tires squealing shrilly and putting out a rancid smell of burning rubber as The frantic driver spun the vehicle towards the road, gaining speed as the gas was stomped on. Someone shouted orders of pursuit, most likely Captain Castellanos, and three cruisers quickly roared to life and went pealing after the fleeing van. A few more members of the gang fell to gunfire as they hurried forward as if to collect one of the people on the ground. The people closer to the edge of the building, the ones who hadn't been in front of the car: had stopped the others as they had rushed in to lift the prone figure... But why?
The Colt 1911 bucked with recoil in Cray's hands as he shot at an oncoming man Who was aiming his own firearm at One of the officers behind the next cruiser. There was a short cry of pain before there came a distinctive clatter of something metallic being dropped onto asphalt and a pistol skittered into view on the ground. Kicking it in the opposite direction of anyone who might be reaching for it, Cray popped up over the roof of his car a moment later as the staccato sound of discharging firearms rang out once again at The front of the warehouse. He hesitated as soon as he realized that the most recent gunfire wasn't directed at any of his unit, light blue gaze flickering over the two men that hurried over to the growing pile of bodies, working together to pull one of them free. This made no sense to him, watching as one of the men threw The limp figure across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he and the other man turned to hurry inside with three others. It was at that moment, when they turned their backs to him, that he got a good look at the sheet of platinum hair that suede to either side of slender arms...
Cray felt something close to horror rock through his frame as the woman vanished into the dark interior of the building with the men, the door sliding shut and into place with an echoing boom. There was a civilian that had ended up in the middle of a gang fight, she had been injured somehow, and was now being held hostage. Each thought felt like a hammer blow as he realized each fact,his body tensing with alarm. Casting a quick look around at the empty space before him to confirm that no other gang members still lingered, Cray was satisfied with the lack of movement and felt comfortable in turning his back to the building and sweeping his gaze over the remaining officers in search for the Captain.
"Captain Castellanos!" Officer Turner called as he spotted the Hispanic man moving in his direction, hurrying forward to meet him just as another man approached from his other side. Nodding in acknowledgment of the approach of his partner, Van Burgess, An imposing figure of african-American descent, Cray didn't offer any further greeting before quickly returning his attention to the captain.
"yes Officer Turner?" Hernan Castellanos asked in his lightly accented and Rich tenored voice, Both of his heavy thick eyebrows lifting as he focused on the younger man.
"Sir, May I have your permission to pursue the criminals into the warehouse?" Cray asked hurriedly, mentally crossing his fingers as he watched his captain narrow his eyes with thought.
"Explain." Castellanos finally prompted.
The response delayed things, but it wasn't an out right denial, Cray had to remind himself as he felt his body instinctively tense with impatience, Desiring nothing more than to be in action, working to save those under his protection. Working carefully to keep his voice as even as he could manage, he briefly explained about witnessing a few of the gang members extracting and carrying a body into the warehouse with them as they retreated, explaining that the feminine build and the long hair of the person had led him to the conclusion that a woman had somehow ended up in the fight and was now being used as leverage. ...Or worse, he added mentally to himself, the idea making his stomach clench painfully.
The response was not long in coming from Hernan, The man's look darkening dangerously. "Permission granted Officer. Take Burgess and suit up, I don't want either of you dying." He looked irritated at the very idea. "There's just one condition. Don't kill any of them. They might be Godless scum bags Who deserve nothing less than a bullet to their brains, but I want those men in one of my interrogation rooms where I can take my corkscrews to their worthless hides."
Those words had sent an involuntary shiver running down the length of Cray's spine. His superior officer was quite famous for his precise, and sometimes ruthless, way of interrogation. The man was cunning and sharp with a tongue that was even sharper. He didn't particularly like the idea of working to keep the men alive, not after his wild imaginings of what they had already done to the young woman, but Officer Turner silently admitted that the group was likely going to a worse fate if left alive... These thoughts accompanied Cray as he went with Van to the other's cruiser, excepting his own swat equipment that was extracted out of the trunk. He hadn't been at this job for very long, so the equipment he had been using hadn't fit him very well. It was reassuring to smell The familiar odor of fresh plastic and knowing that this was brand new equipment, matched to his size and shape.
"looks good, don't it?" Van rumbled approvingly as they both worked in unison to equip bulletproof vests and guards, taking a handful of smoke grenades, a concussion grenade a peace, and strapping a taser onto their belts when everything seemed to be in place.
"It's definitely reassuring." Cray admitted, giving his partner a rueful grin as he patted the black chest piece before picking up a helmet and placing it on to his head. It's settled into place comfortably enough, but the freshly manufactured smell was going to get old...
Conversation had little place after that, determined expressions crossing over both men's faces as they headed towards the side of the building in search of a secondary entrance point. Cray found himself continually scanning The wall of the warehouse, hoping that some sort of window or door would appear. He was worried about the amount of time that had gone by, concerned for the well-being of the woman he had seen being carried inside. Luckily for his nerves, a small access door was set partway down the back wall of the warehouse, though relief quickly turned to frustration is the pair drew level with it, a shiny silver chain and padlock glittering minutely in the light of a distant streetlamp.
Cray had just opened his mouth to vent some of his feelings when a large hand on his shoulder brought him up short. He looked up curiously to see a large grin flicker into life on Van's face, The big man digging into one of his pockets and producing a set of lockpicks. Staring at the metallic objects with incredulity on his face for a moment, Cray then quickly returned his own, though somewhat more strained, grin in return. He gave a brief thumbs up before his partner dropped to one knee and began to work on the padlock's inner mechanisms.
Waiting with bated breath As the coil of chain clinked Softly down into Van's waiting hand after several minutes had elapsed ,Cray nevertheless managed a triumphant smile at his partners success, Silently clapping the black man on the shoulder with one of his hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. 'Nice work.' He thought approvingly. After a silent huff Of laughter at a ridiculous idea he had had of shooting the lock off the door that would have effectively ruined the surprise of their entrance, he then almost instantly looked up and down the side of the building, Relieved when nothing immediately moved. Satisfied, his hand lifted and gestured quickly for the Man at his side to follow in his footsteps. Taking a deep breath, Cray stretched out one hand, Reaching for the handle of the door and giving it an experimental twist. Without any sound or evidence of any further Sort of locks, it swung Outwards to reveal the gaping blackness Of inside. Disconcertingly, no matter how hard it tried, the flickering light of the streetlamp far behind their heads couldn't move past the jam, Giving it a Solidly substantial appearance.
Hesitating on the threshold, cray Slowly swayed From side to side as His brown flecked blue eyes Struggled to penetrate the Shadows. After a few moments of this, he Found himself silently sighing And bent his head towards Van, using a few mouthed words and several hand gestures to convey the idea of getting inside and stepping to either side of the door, putting a wall at their backs. He breathed Out quickly before readying himself to do the same thing. After a moment to make sure that his partner was ready, He took the steps required to put him inside the building and tossed Himself to the side, pressing his back up against the wooden panels.
It was a frightful experience, the panic that came with not being able to see, and Cray Found himself struggling for a moment to keep his breathing under control when it wanted so badly to speed up and become ragged. Painfully slow, his vision adjusted to the dimness and his next emotion was almost instantly confusion. There was absolutely nothing inside the building. As far as he could see, the floor was smooth dirt, Reaching towards the walls before being swallowed up by the shadows. Eyebrows pinching together, he cast a quick glance in Van's Direction, hoping for feedback from his partner. But at that exact moment, something made the staircase on the left side of the room creak And he found himself inwardly cursing for not spotting it immediately. But whoever it was upstairs sure had an Ample opportunity to observe the intruders. Head whipping In its direction, he focused on the topmost stare he could make Out through the gloom, breath suddenly caught in his throat.
"...Who's there?"
The soft question was asked in an angry growl, followed almost immediately by a click of a gun being readied. Inexplicable relief washed through Cray, Though it had nothing to do with the tone of the voice or the click of the firearm. It had everything to do with the question. For that, above anything else, proved that they hadn't actually been spotted yet. That gave him a sense of hope, even as a pair of feet appeared on the steps, moving downward cautiously. Each time the stairs Creaked, a soft voice whispered a curse... This wasn't someone who was used to keeping watch. Anyone competent wouldn't have said anything in the first place, let alone continued to talk and give away their position. The man, whoever he was, hesitated as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his face barely visible as he squinted towards the still open door, arms raised before him as he pointed his gun at the opening.
Just as his expression turned into one of confusion, his mouth opening as if to make a statement, thin wires shot out of the darkness and attached themselves to his chest and stomach. There was half a second where nothing moved, the man's face just beginning to look down, when Van flipped the switch on the Tayser and electricity coursed into his body. Twitching and writhing, he almost immediately dropped to the ground, eyes rolling back into his head. A few seconds passed, the charge dissipated, and the figure now crumpled on the floor lay still, limbs splayed around him awkwardly. Without hesitation, Cray Took the opportunity to launch himself forward and halfway up the stairs before ten seconds had even gone bye since the body had hit the floor, reaching down towards his belt and pulling free his flash bang grenade. Pausing where he was, Cray briefly took a moment to aim before launching The device up onto the flat above the main floor, jumping back down the stairs and dropping to his belly a moment before a loud bang sounded overhead and several people cried out.
Up on his feet and running a few heartbeats later, Cray found himself sprinting up the staircase only a few steps behind Van, mimicking the big man's motion when he pulled his baton free. They hit the top of the stairs one right after the other, going in opposite directions as soon as they were able to make out a few figures slowly getting back onto their feet towards the middle of the flat, A few of them moaning and one man cursing quite violently. Rushing forward, Cray swung his baton at the nearest figure's head, connecting with a solid, and rather satisfying, thunk. The man collapsed at once, unconscious. The second figure he found fell just as quickly, Much to his relief, and the sound of another body collapsing to the wooden floor told him that Van had met with similar success. But just as Cray turned towards the sound of the last voice, the one that was still cursing colorfully, a gun shot exploded to his left.
"Dammit! Van" Cray instinctively shouted, rushing forward and tackling the last figure, the light of the gunpowder igniting having illuminated his face and giving away his position. He didn't see where his partner was, not immediately, more focused on pinning down the arm that still held the pistol, pressing the side of his forearm into the man's throat. The man struggled violently, using his free hand to scrabble at the back of Cray's arm, But his fingernails simply caught at the guard strapped to his arm in the glove protecting his hand. A few more moments of being unable to get oxygen into his system Took care of that, the man slipping into unconsciousness and falling back limply against the floor. Pulling back just far enough to make sure that the man wasn't faking, Cray grunted in satisfaction at the lack of response before quickly reaching for a flashlight on his belt and clicking it on, squinting when the bright beam illuminated the darkness.
"Van! Are you all right?" He called as he spotted the familiar shape of his partner, the African-American just sitting up, one hand clutching at his arm.
"Fine." Van growled in response, his teeth gritted together. "He had to go and shoot me in the one place where I didn't have any bulletproof armor. Isn't that just always the case? I'm fine, check on the girl."
Finding himself releasing a short burst of laughter with relief, Van couldn't be too badly hurt if he was still making jokes, Cray began swinging the flashlight around the rest of the room, partially noting that his partner had pulled out his radio and was informing Captain Castellanos of their success. His attention was already completely focused on finding the woman and assessing her injuries. It didn't take him long to find her, shoved up against the far wall, The flat was not that big to begin with, and Cray was up on his feet and over to her in an instant. Kneeling down, he quickly stripped off one of his gloves and pressed his fore and middle finger into her throat, holding his breath as he check for a pulse. The steady rhythm against his fingertips was reassuring and he found himself releasing his breath in a great rush, a grin momentarily pulling up his lips. Then he was gently patting at her face, pulling up her eyelids, speaking in a soft urgent voice. "Miss. Wake up. Can you hear me? Are you hurt?" The dark clothing that she wore didn't help him make that assessment for himself, but he knew that an ambulance was on its way. "Miss, You're safe now."
