flux
callmedia
op2024
Experiment 249
Noctis
Alisdragon911
Snowdrops
Otakuforreal
Estylwen
Kaithe DameCollaboration with @Estylwen
With Vincent tied up at the police station in Burberry, it was almost too easy to send a convoy of patrol cars to White Pine. The lights were on, but the sirens were silent. And, as evening approached, some of the patrol cars parked down the street of the Irish Pint, just out of its line-of-vision. Other patrol cars parked at the back, hoping to cut off anyone who ran.
The Commissioner sat in the back of one of the patrol cars, eyes glancing out towards the neon-lit street before turning to her partner in crime for the day, Leon's recommended: Walter Shaw.
”They aren't expecting us, so we should have the advantage. I'll let the officers secure the building, then we should be free to put your talents to use.
“Sound good?”
“Anything that keeps me bullet free sounds fantastic commissioner,” he said, chuckling as though he had just made some hilarious joke.
At that, the Commissioner stepped out of the vehicle, twirling her hand loosely in the air to ‘round up’ the criminal. It was go time.
”Nocturnia police, don't move! Hands were I can see ‘em”
The lively scene within the tavern was stopped short by the police bursting through the front. A few employees took off, dipping through the kitchen door, only to be stopped at the back alley, where the cops had surrounded them.
So, with the building appearing to be secured, the Commissioner and Mr. Shaw were free to look through the restaurant area, bar, kitchen, and back offices. Strangely, though they knew there was a basement, the door to it didn't present itself blatantly…
Shaw whistled an upbeat tune as he wandered through the doors, keeping a casual stroll as his eyes flitted over the armed men and women in uniform covering what could have been mistaken by most as casual drinkers and diners. An average looking crowd you might look around and see at church on Sundays.
Continuing his whistle, he pretended to examine a few of the tables and windows, shaking his head and looking towards the kitchen. It was all an act, one that cost them a few minutes, but he had his own secrets to keep after all. Still, he cut most of his act short, heading over to the main counter and slapping both hands down on its surface, his gyft triggering and the sudden touch of his hand to a solid surface.
It had taken days of practice to get used to the image that played out in his head, the vibrations echoing much further than normal and painting an image of the building around him. The first floor was legitimate operations, aside from a few concealed weapons and some kind of alarm switch that one of the chefs was trying to inch their way towards.
“Commissioner, tell your boy with the big boots in the kitchen area to cover the walk-in freezer, there’s a shotgun and some kind of panic button just inside the door,” he said, then struck the counter again with his palms, getting a better feel for the image in his head.
The Commissioner nodded, then jerked her chin in the direction of the kitchen to her cop heading the sting. He immediately moved into action, entering the kitchen along with the cop already sweeping the kitchen area.
“Speaking of the chillbox, hope you don’t mind a bit of cold. Pretty sure I’ve picked up a hidden door behind some kind of storage rack,” he said, looking at the commissioner, “Shall we?”
The Commissioner raised her eyebrows behind her shades. ”Impressive… Yes, let's.”
As they approached the walk-in freezer, the cops already had it opened and sweeped, picking up the shotgun and removing it from the scene. The Commissioner stared at the panic button, seeing it's lack of depression.
”Well, that's either a really good thing, or…”
The storage rack was moved to the side, revealing a slim door that slide to the side. There were narrow steps that led down. The basement, they had found it!
The Commissioner glanced over at her cops. A look was all that was needed, and they entered first, hollering for hands to be raised.
But, as the Commissioner and Walter entered the basement, it was… Void of people. There were tables and clean beakers, typical lab equipment. But all the ingredients, anything incriminating - it had been cleared out entirely.
”...Fuck.” The Commissioner cursed, shaking her head. ”What tipped them off…?”
“Damn, they are good whoever they are,” Shaw said, whistling again and running his fingers along the counter, “they even took the dust bunnies with them.”
Shaw continued to make a show of looking around for another few moments, then reached over and slapped the wall like he had nearly tripped over his own two feet. The echo image formed in his mind again, tracing over the entirety of the room and their empty drawers and shelves. Even the vibrational image of the place was clean, save for a small piece of paper that looked like it had somehow been caught in one of the drawers and overlooked. Shaw reached over and opened the drawer, well aware there were no signs of booby trapping or tampering. “Hey Boss Lady, got something here,” Shaw called out, not wanting to touch it in case of fingerprints, “maybe some prints, but probably not much more than that.”
Antonia, staring with another impressed look, snapped on a glove and picked up the sheet.
The shipping receipt was dated for earlier that morning. A half hour after Antonia's meeting with her detectives had concluded. A moving van had come and taken everything, delivering it to 32 Dreadnaught Ave in Heavy Crossguard…
“Shit,” Shaw said when he looked it over, looking over at Antonia, “sorry for the language, but that’s before Leon even called me. Either you two have the worst luck imaginable, or you’ve got a bird singing pretty early on in your house. Best of luck with that.”
Antonia shook her head, dropping the sheet in a plastic baggy and handing it over to the nearest cop. Then she turned to Shaw. ”Detective MacAoidh was right. You're quite indispensable. I imagine you'll be looking for your fee?”
“Leon has always been good for it, but the sooner the better if we’re finished here,” Shaw said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out what was obviously a handmade business card, “here, in case you ever need me and can’t reach Leon. My rates are very reasonable considering my success rate.” Ironically he counted this as a success. After all he had found the hidden basements, it was hardly his fault… and really none of his concern that they were apparently empty.
Antonia accepted the card, giving him a nod. ”Very good, Mr. Shaw. Then I may be contacting you about a warehouse in the future…”
With Vincent tied up at the police station in Burberry, it was almost too easy to send a convoy of patrol cars to White Pine. The lights were on, but the sirens were silent. And, as evening approached, some of the patrol cars parked down the street of the Irish Pint, just out of its line-of-vision. Other patrol cars parked at the back, hoping to cut off anyone who ran.
The Commissioner sat in the back of one of the patrol cars, eyes glancing out towards the neon-lit street before turning to her partner in crime for the day, Leon's recommended: Walter Shaw.
”They aren't expecting us, so we should have the advantage. I'll let the officers secure the building, then we should be free to put your talents to use.
“Sound good?”
“Anything that keeps me bullet free sounds fantastic commissioner,” he said, chuckling as though he had just made some hilarious joke.
At that, the Commissioner stepped out of the vehicle, twirling her hand loosely in the air to ‘round up’ the criminal. It was go time.
”Nocturnia police, don't move! Hands were I can see ‘em”
The lively scene within the tavern was stopped short by the police bursting through the front. A few employees took off, dipping through the kitchen door, only to be stopped at the back alley, where the cops had surrounded them.
So, with the building appearing to be secured, the Commissioner and Mr. Shaw were free to look through the restaurant area, bar, kitchen, and back offices. Strangely, though they knew there was a basement, the door to it didn't present itself blatantly…
Shaw whistled an upbeat tune as he wandered through the doors, keeping a casual stroll as his eyes flitted over the armed men and women in uniform covering what could have been mistaken by most as casual drinkers and diners. An average looking crowd you might look around and see at church on Sundays.
Continuing his whistle, he pretended to examine a few of the tables and windows, shaking his head and looking towards the kitchen. It was all an act, one that cost them a few minutes, but he had his own secrets to keep after all. Still, he cut most of his act short, heading over to the main counter and slapping both hands down on its surface, his gyft triggering and the sudden touch of his hand to a solid surface.
It had taken days of practice to get used to the image that played out in his head, the vibrations echoing much further than normal and painting an image of the building around him. The first floor was legitimate operations, aside from a few concealed weapons and some kind of alarm switch that one of the chefs was trying to inch their way towards.
“Commissioner, tell your boy with the big boots in the kitchen area to cover the walk-in freezer, there’s a shotgun and some kind of panic button just inside the door,” he said, then struck the counter again with his palms, getting a better feel for the image in his head.
The Commissioner nodded, then jerked her chin in the direction of the kitchen to her cop heading the sting. He immediately moved into action, entering the kitchen along with the cop already sweeping the kitchen area.
“Speaking of the chillbox, hope you don’t mind a bit of cold. Pretty sure I’ve picked up a hidden door behind some kind of storage rack,” he said, looking at the commissioner, “Shall we?”
The Commissioner raised her eyebrows behind her shades. ”Impressive… Yes, let's.”
As they approached the walk-in freezer, the cops already had it opened and sweeped, picking up the shotgun and removing it from the scene. The Commissioner stared at the panic button, seeing it's lack of depression.
”Well, that's either a really good thing, or…”
The storage rack was moved to the side, revealing a slim door that slide to the side. There were narrow steps that led down. The basement, they had found it!
The Commissioner glanced over at her cops. A look was all that was needed, and they entered first, hollering for hands to be raised.
But, as the Commissioner and Walter entered the basement, it was… Void of people. There were tables and clean beakers, typical lab equipment. But all the ingredients, anything incriminating - it had been cleared out entirely.
”...Fuck.” The Commissioner cursed, shaking her head. ”What tipped them off…?”
“Damn, they are good whoever they are,” Shaw said, whistling again and running his fingers along the counter, “they even took the dust bunnies with them.”
Shaw continued to make a show of looking around for another few moments, then reached over and slapped the wall like he had nearly tripped over his own two feet. The echo image formed in his mind again, tracing over the entirety of the room and their empty drawers and shelves. Even the vibrational image of the place was clean, save for a small piece of paper that looked like it had somehow been caught in one of the drawers and overlooked. Shaw reached over and opened the drawer, well aware there were no signs of booby trapping or tampering. “Hey Boss Lady, got something here,” Shaw called out, not wanting to touch it in case of fingerprints, “maybe some prints, but probably not much more than that.”
Antonia, staring with another impressed look, snapped on a glove and picked up the sheet.
The shipping receipt was dated for earlier that morning. A half hour after Antonia's meeting with her detectives had concluded. A moving van had come and taken everything, delivering it to 32 Dreadnaught Ave in Heavy Crossguard…
“Shit,” Shaw said when he looked it over, looking over at Antonia, “sorry for the language, but that’s before Leon even called me. Either you two have the worst luck imaginable, or you’ve got a bird singing pretty early on in your house. Best of luck with that.”
Antonia shook her head, dropping the sheet in a plastic baggy and handing it over to the nearest cop. Then she turned to Shaw. ”Detective MacAoidh was right. You're quite indispensable. I imagine you'll be looking for your fee?”
“Leon has always been good for it, but the sooner the better if we’re finished here,” Shaw said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out what was obviously a handmade business card, “here, in case you ever need me and can’t reach Leon. My rates are very reasonable considering my success rate.” Ironically he counted this as a success. After all he had found the hidden basements, it was hardly his fault… and really none of his concern that they were apparently empty.
Antonia accepted the card, giving him a nod. ”Very good, Mr. Shaw. Then I may be contacting you about a warehouse in the future…”
