"Dispatch, this is Troy and Koffman, car 39, we're on location of the Hard Hats code 240, no sign of trouble. Please advise over." Well, whatever happened there it seemed it was over. 'Troy', as per his family name, took a sip of his coffee as he leaned back in his chair, trying to stay awake for his 12th hour of work, his need for the beverage made obvious by the vacancy of his blue eyes and the shadow of a brown beard that had grown throughout the day. Overall he had nice features, his chin especially was more chiseled than most.

That was in stark contrast with Koffman who had three of them and was working on his fourth with the chocolate doughnut in his hands. "This is Dispatch, the call was received 18 minutes ago, no subsequent notices of disturbance, in all likelihood its clear. Still, suspects are 5 males in gray suits, one hispanic, one..." As the description went on Troy sank in his seat, closing his eyes. Koffman however almost chocken on his daughnut, ever so elegantly covering his first chin with pieces of sugary goodness. At least he didn't do that towards Troy. And then of course, fucking Goodfellow, of all people to encounter at the end of his shift.

"...Backups are in route, ETA, 5 minutes. Over and out." Troy placed the cup in the holder before burrying his face in his hands. He briefly looked up to Koffman who looked around a bit before locking the doors of the patrol car. "No black van of doom to be seen at least. Bloodbloom grays at a home improvement store, eh! Think Cholesterolbloom wants renovate?" Well, he visibly had no intention to go in that place.

And Troy knew what that meant! Waiting for backup (Which would likely arrive in twice as long as Dispatch said) then arguing over who should take point and crawling inside, juuuust to make sure the criminals had enough time to stroll out if they were still in there. And that was if a sergeant didn't get nervous and decided to call SWAT, just to be on the safe side. All in all, that would be 1 or 2 more hours and looking at the time right now, he was scheduled to work in 8. With the transit time to go back home, grab a bite, wake up tomorrow and do the same that was 5... maybe 6 hours of sleep? No wonder why overtime seemed well paid. It actually isn't though.

"Screw it." Troy unlocked the door and stepped out. "Hey. Hey! What do you think you're doing?! You think its tinker bell in there?!" That was Koffman of course, ever so prudent, who would probably have waited anyways even if there was no backup. The kind of cop that didn't even need a bribe to look the other way. "Look around. If one of these cars belong to a Grey, its the poorest fucking hitman I've ever seen." Koffman pointed to a rather nice car towards the end of the parking. "What about that one?"

"Management. Why do you think its parked so far?" Unlike Koffman, who had been working this job for 30 some years (and probably had that much arrest under his belt, mostly speed related crimes), Troy could remember how things worked in shitty places like these. Hell, he had worked at a Wallmart for two years. "You really want to take the chance?" That question prodded out a sigh. "No. But I'm almost at 13h of shift right now, so I'll take my chances." And so, he began to walk towards the store. "Hey, I know you're in a hurry for a beer, but it ain't worth becoming fairy cocktail kid!"

Kid. He had worked with this ass for 6 years now, Troy wished he'd stop with the belittling bullshit but what can a man do. Though... all things considered he found that to be a pretty safe situation actually. He was confident the grays were gone and even if they were there actually, it couldn't be worst than his first years when Tolstoi wasn't Superintendent. Now criminals had learned, especially big and important ones, that if they killed agents themselves she'd use that to pursuit them to the end of the earth. No, it was actually riskier to try and arrest petty criminals than these guys. Hey, if he was in luck maybe he'd be bribed tonight!

As long as the criminals knew they'd be released however. If Troy had been witness to a murder he didn't give a lot for his skin.

_________________________

He walked inside the Hard Hats. Everything seemed to be fine, workers still at their post although the cashiers, all females of course, were nervously speaking together. Alone was the greeter, because he was a dude of course, and not gay enough for the women to include him. Troy had been there. "Good evening... Randy. I'm officer Troy, SSPD. We've had a call about... disturbances." He looked around, for any sign of crime and immediately spotted the destroyed cameras in a corner. "Anything to report?" There was hesitation, hesitation comming from someone who knew he probably shouldn't speak of what he saw. A sad day it was when the Omerta was powerful enough to extend itself to the civilian population. "Sir?" Ryan opened his mouth as to speak but there was no sound. He closed it and opened it again two more times before speaking. "I-I uh, manual says I-uh, should leave that kind of stuff to the manager. S-sir."

Troy raised an eyebrow in suspicion. That was a fun way he had of pushing the responsibility. Well, as long as someone rose up to the task, before he fell asleep. "And where is this manager?" Ryan looked away. "Gone for the night." Of fucking course. "Then where's the supervisor? Who'll close up the shop tonight?" The greeter raised a hand to point toward an older cashier. The woman looked at him with some anger. "Madam Lebowitz." Troy followed the finger and looked at the group of girls and walked toward them. Knowing why he was coming the girls spread out, leaving their superior alone. Troy was about to make the same usual speech, but Miss Lebowitz was faster. "I'm sorry but it'll have to wait tomorrow for an official complain, I'm not at liberty to file police reports for Hard Hats." Again. With the fucking pushing. He couldn't help but let out a long sigh. "Ma'am... I understand Hard Hat might not wish to file an official form but as, evidently, a weapon was discharged here, I demand... your cooperation. Miss, can you please show me the security footages of the night? Or did those involved erase them after they shot the camera."

Again, that same hesitation as before. But Troy was going nowhere. Under the autoritative gaze of the policeman, the cashier however could only crack. "I... don't know if they did. If it's what the police requires, then I'll unlock the bureau for you. Mind you its low definition, black and white." Yes, the kind of camera there to deter theft and catch employees, he knew too well. 

A short walk later they were in the office. Intact, the tape still in the machine. But it was as Lebowitz had said, barely usable. Though it was enough to prove someone was here and that someone shot. One female, males, would fit well with the usual gray suits... It was evidence still. However Troy spotted someone, that giant of an Ogre he had seen coming in here, he had been able to see everything. Troy took the video and walked out to the Tool Rental bureau and looked at the Ogre for several long seconds without saying a thing. As the green skin began to sweat, Troy leaned in. "You will tell me, everything."

_______________________________________________________

Silver Hills. The chic upper class gated community of Santa Somabra, with its own school and church. Behind the enchanted metal fences reside the elite of Santa Somabra, the industrialists and well placed public servant that couldn't move away from this little piece of hell. It was easy to forget where the inhabitants of this community were actually, as inside this sector, only people allowed by the local community council were allowed to live, and other than the police and the numerous private security guards that protected this fortress, only those that were resident here could walk the streets. 

Veronika had actually been raised in such a community, a microcosm outside of reality where the crime that plagued the city was left at the door. Tolstoi was of good birth and many owed to her a certain return to prosperity since the police now concentrates itself on protecting the big businesses before the common citizens, it was why the council was more than happy to offer her residency. Her status with the biggest bank of the city was more than enough for them to offer a special discount on a house someone of her salary normally couldn't pay (Though, Veronika was kind of a trust fund baby, money was no problem no matter her job, thanks to her father's wise investments and numerous connections).

With all this security, even more was in place to protect the police chief, and guards were kept on the premise at all time. The first line was a police force patrolling the garden and two cars in the streets, waiting to escort the superintendent in her commuting, spending paid for by the taxes and justified due to numerous death treats and the unfortunate faith some of her predecessors had to suffer. The second line was private security, highly train Mayflower guards that were for the most ex-military trained in handling any kind of supernatural intrusions. This was free of charge, as Mister Mayflower also fell in the group of people that had stakes in seeing the Superintendent continue her job and be in her good grace. Mayflower was reputed for being... prone to over use force but Tolstoi turned a blind eye when they killed crooks and thieves that tried to target their clients.

In her salon, Veronika was listening with interest to a [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T4YtgA2jnu4] conference by Yuri Bezmenov[/url]. It was a social critique, an explanation about geopolitical matters and high level diplomacy that one would believe contributed to make her a well informed and knowledgeable person more able to serve the population. Others would say that it was intellectual masturbation to listen to a man who's world views were mostly aligned with her own and placed very convincing arguments as to how she was right to think the way she did. but it didn't matter.

A phone call interrupted her line of thought however. She didn't think before answering, not a whole lot of people knew her private number and she took pride in having assembled a team that was competent enough to handle day to day operations for at least a night without her. Whatever it was, it was important. Sure enough, it was Zug. "Madam Superintendent. Sorry to bother you at this hour but there's been a development. Multiple murders in a restaurant downtown, witnesses tell of a fight between Bloodbloom and Nyctari. Both left the scene alive, Nyctari is believed to be the instigator."

Veronika frowned. "So he stroke first..." It was a positive development, she would have hated it if only one had survived, the war would have been stillborn. Now they'd watch their steps more carefully and- "Not exactly. On the scene a severed head was found. Its owner was Edmund Jankovic. Vampire Hunter." Oh? It seemed the deed was done without gunfire as Sidney didn't run in gun blazing to deal with the vampire hunter. Still, helping external help... Bloodbloom wanted this over quickly. "Any court witnesses?" By this she asked anyone willing to actually go in a court to accuse one of the most feared mob boss of the city. "None." Obviously. In this case however, it was good. "Perfect. Tell Meyer's team to redirect to arrest Bloodbloom under suspicion of murder of the civilians at the scene, but to not press charges." If Bloodbloom was in a hurry, it meant Veronika had to do everything in her power to slow her down.

"Mandate?" Of course, the trivial matter of having a veil of legality. "I'll have Mister Godwin make one, dated for yesterday of course. It'll be ready for tomorrow." Business as usual. If Bloodbloom wanted to take them to court, let them. There was a conspiracy of silence involved here, and it was her words, that of a known criminal, against that of Godwin and Tolstoi, the elite of the law. An unwinnable fight since Tolstoi knew and was in good term with all the judges in the city and was in a great position to make sure anything state or federal level would be rigged in her favor. 

"Of course madam. How should our guest be treated?" She'd say with professionalism and courtesy but where Sid was involved... "No physical marks." ...that was the best she could get.

__________________________________

"Lock and loaded!" It looked Sid's team would actually get to see some action tonight. Finally, after 2 hours in the air waiting for something to happen above Nyctari's manor. They all thought they'd go home without any fun. The helicopter went in front of the lobby and the 12 SWAT officers got down using rope. It was the sight of something you'd see in a warzone, a blackhawk helicopter, SSPD on it, dropping men in full black body armor, completed with gas masks, assault rifles and grenades. There was even an ogre with a bomb suit and a machinegun. It was of course all thanks to the 1033 program. 

Good old militarization of the police to make sure even the toughest vampire criminal with an AK-47, body armor and hooked on Demon's Blood would go down under a hail of holy, magic infused silver bullets. The Superintendent had been particularly keen on benefiting this program and in fact, tonight's intervention seemed a little tame at the moment: There were no armored Infantry Fighting Vehicle outside the hotel Bloodbloom was. Not yet, it was in route to come and move the fat fairy to the police station.

They entered and the first one in was the most recognizable of the bunch. Captain Meyer didn't care for the ski masks and gas masks every SWAT members were equipped with to hide their identities. These people had families, children criminals, if they knew they were SWAT, might try to attack. Sid had nothing but her gun and her job, and dared people to try and come after her, she needed to satiate her rifle's thirst for blood.

That was actually literal, SWAT members had standard issue enchantments to protect them against magical attacks and overcome magical defenses as well, Sid's weapon was a bit more custom. A demonic enchantment, a thirst for blood. Her weapon had a mind of its own and was able to shot anything in front of it without Sid even pulling the trigger, which made her a faster shot and damn accurate. A shot so fast she had to keep her finger in front of the trigger so it wouldn't shot anyone in front of it in fact.

People made themselves scarce in front of them, knowing any confrontation could lead them to a beating, or worst. "You there! Nyxvira Bloodbloom's room number, now!" By reflex, the man behind the hotel's desk raised his hands in the air. "M-ma'am, m-may I see your warra-" They came to the desk and an impressive hand emerged above Sid, the ogre of the group grabbing the little man by the shirt and dragging him on the other side of the counter, papers and a phone falling to the ground. "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE!" He was shoved to the ground, probably breaking his nose judging from the sound, face first as 2 other officers pointed their rifles at him. "STOP resisting sir, or we'll have to use force!" Sid raised her eyes and pointed to the nearest employee who was trying to make a run for it toward the offices, but froze under the gaze of the unmasked woman. "Room number, now..."

"Do you have a permit for this weapon? Of course you don't you fucking scum! You're under arrest for obstruction of justice, resisting arrest, unlawful concealed weapon ownership, threatening an officer and disrespecting an officer..." They were not messing around and people knew better than to cry for injustice. There was one person however that took out her phone and began filming. Not a local, obviously, no one from the city would be bold enough to do that. No officer in any other city would be bold enough to do as the one going toward the girl did, simply grabbing the phone, throwing it on the ground and crushing it under his heel. Sid looked at the girl. "We'll need the security footage of the evening too. Criminal evidence." Meaning, they'd grab it and probably have it unfortunately destroyed, leaving no evidence of their own wrongdoing.

___________________________________________

Sid led her team without a care in the world, knowing a feeling of invulnerability not even a chief of the mob could have in his own home, knowing that no one would be stupid enough to shot at her at the moment when she had a little army following her and more people arriving by the minute. The 'Blue Boys' as it were, the friendly name of the police officers that weren't in Veronika's little machinery and that were nothing more than tiny little decoys, ones Sid would find herself lucky to find dead because it would mean the hunt would be on, if not for the true murderer then for a probably even worst scum bag the police could pin the murder on. Eh, Veronika might say she wished everything always went right, but Sid knew her better then all the guys in the SSPD and so she could say with certitude: If something could go wrong, it would make everything go right.

Still, as they came to the door, she raised a hand and began to silently gesticulate commands to her men to stack up and prepare to enter. She didn't expect anything, but it didn't hurt to be ready either. Her men were in position, but Sid didn't give the go signal yet. No, she closed her eyes and held on to her assault rifle, trying to commune a bit with her bloodied partner... It was not an equal relationship, both wanted to be the dominant spirit involved. It felt like the rush of Demon's Blood overtaking one's mind, a sensation Sid was familiar to... or at least used to be. Still, she was not of a lesser will.

Behind this door there was blood, one person, of strong constitution but still stressed, she knew they were behind that door... still, the heat... people were there, very recently, they had just missed them... no matter. "Be nice." She raised her hand to give the go signal and the front man kicked the door, the (unlocked) piece of wood slamming on the wall as the SWAT team entered with military efficiency. Some pointed their guns at the mob boss but the others went pass to sweep the room.

"Clear."
"Clear."
"Clear."

With the room confirmed to be empty, the gaze of the officers slowly turned toward the sole non-SWAT in the room. There was a silence as footsteps were heard, entering the room. Veronika had ordered Sidney to be especially gentle with the mob boss, not to treat her like she did everyone else. But Sid wasn't stupid either. She knew the difference between people you wanted to bother talking to and people you wanted to go crawl in a hole. Plus... Going back on that tidbit earlier about Demon's Blood, any user would have some distant connection to the one who controlled the monopoly of the stuff. Yes, Sid would do Nyx the favor of courtesy. That was as much carrot as she'd give however, the last person who had tried to blackmail her knew just how painful her stick was.

"Nyxvira Bloodbloom, you are under arrest under the suspicion of murder. Put your greasy hands behind your back. Men, search her for weapons, devices and charms." That was hardly how you saw things in the movies but reality was a tad different here. The right to remain silent, attorney and so forth? No, that was only if Nyx was officially put under investigation, this arrest was just a way to make the Superintendent's presence known, a way to cut Nyx from her command structure and give Nyctari a chance at fighting. She could be held for 24h without charges and that little insult? It was just the justice system daring Nyx to try and get in the system that was rigged in Veronika's favor at every turn, make her waste time and money on something that would end on nothing.

Two officers began to pat down the Fearie while a third and a fourth took out magic scrying devices and a metal detector respectively. All of this to make sure this wasn't being recorded and that she couldn't use magic to do anything, they'd clean the room entirely after that for the same reasons... oh, and to find 'evidence' or something. 

Still, the SWAT members didn't seem interested much in keeping their hands on the crime boss, Sid was probably to blame for that as after all she had chosen her men with certain traits in mind. The most predominant was a lax view on how to make justice but there was also a matter of ego and respect, Sid's people looked up to her with respect and admiration, so it was no surprise that this also traduced itself in bedroom preferences. A woman that's fit rather than chubby, to put it bluntly. As such, the people in the room were looking down (All of them being 6ft+) on Nyx with a mix of disgust and pure smugness about their self perceived invulnerability in front of one of the most powerful mob boss of the Americas.

__________________________________________________

At the exit of the hotel, the she-elf attempting to exit the location quickly found she wasn't the only one to try and do so. Luckily for her however the police was there for one person and any other arrest would be incidental. The Superintendent had ordered a barrage and inspections of everyone going out of the hotel for the next 6h but in reality this traduced itself by 2 policemen going each side of the vehicles to ask for IDs and then letting people go through.

"Good evening, can I see your ID and licensees please?"

Not a very threatening force indeed.

But there was something else at work out there, in the night. Tolstoi knew her own force's incompetence and had learned to rely on it and in this situation especially, try and capitalize.

A kobold on a roof was as surprising a sight as a rat in a sewer, this one especially was dressed all in black and was armed with a camera. Another thing Veronika knew was that her always very efficient tactic of asking for retroactive warrants after the police had entered somewhere was becoming more and more known, making staying home with an arsenal or drugs much less of an efficient tactic as it was in the past, but she didn't care. It made people panic at best but like tonight, it could also just flush 'em out.

Krubus, under the very specific order of her beloved, was in a crawling position on the roof of an adjacent building and taking pictures of people walking in and out of the hotel. ALL of them. These people were all possibly guilty by association and this tactic had proven quite efficient in creating some info on newly rising criminals, before they even realized they were on the radar. Of course right now Krubus had no idea who these people were and in the good old days, these pics would have probably gathered dust. But now? With computers capable of matching millions of individuals every hour? This was a powerful tool.