Episode One - Part FiveMature

Episode One: Liberty for All, Part Five

Zach

When they entered a building, I hesitated to follow them, sure, it looked like a dump, but it might have been guarded. I circled around the building and after climbing a dumpster got onto the emergency stair case. I painfully pulled myself up and passed a broken window onto the partially crumbled catwalk that overlooked the floor.

The group just kind of stopped in the middle of place and dropped the crates. They waited for a while and I just waited, moving as least as possible, not wanting to make the walkway grind, which would have clued them in,

Eventually, another group came in, headlight behind them was they parked an old 4x4 in front of the back entrance. They started talking, calling each others Jackson and Drew. They looked like they knew each other. They kept negotiating, one of them exchanging a gun until for some reason, they all took out weapons, locking themselves in a stand off.

"Holy shiz." I muttered, the trench coat clad guy holding the other hostage. They yelled from one side to the next for a while.

Other than the cacophony they made, I managed to hear a rumbling outside. I turned around and looked out. A trio of large armored trucks pulled over, over it a shield under a star flanked by swords was painted. I knew what it meant; Cops.

I looked at the gang, they shuffled nervously, oblivious to what was happening outside. I looked back out and back inside again, getting involved seemed like a bad idea...

I approached the collapsed part of the catwalk and slid down in a more or less controlled way. I ran to the guys and opened my mouth when the man in a coat pointed a second pistol at my head.

"Who the hell are you?" He said, the peashooter in my face.

"Securistar's right at the door."

"How many?" He asked, not moving his gun and keeping his eyes. 

"Three trucks, might be more in the back, I didn't see."

He lowered his weapons, both of them and looked at Mr. Jackson. "Well, mate. Seems like we have a deal in the end." He grabbed a bunch of bills from the man and pulled back before kicking the crates across to the other group. "It's all yours."

He went back to his guys and they started talking. "What do we do, boss?" The big guy asked.

"We get the fuck out. Never join the client in his war, that's my second rule." He answered.

"What do we do, they have both exits covered."

"We can't stay on a siege, they'll kill win. We shoot out way out. Sec'star use a composite armor lamellar armor for their high-threat-response teams, they cut corner on the material, it'll stop bullets but not electricity, switch to stick-shock rounds." As he spoke, they all swapped clips on their guns.

"What then?" The woman asked.

"I can help you out..." I suggested, making them turn toward me.

"You're still here?" The guy remarked. "And how?"

I removed the grenades from my belt and showed them. "I also know somewhere we can lay low, the cops don't go there."

"Thermal smoke." He said, reading the labels on the metal cylinder. "That'll fool their goggles." He seemed satisfied. "Alright. We can do this."

I spared a glance at the others, who were taking position and taking as much cover as they could. The bandido and his team ran toward the back exit, where the truck still cast long shadow with it's blinding headlights and they took position on every side.

Everything went silent and the windows above exploded as ball like objects went through them, quickly dispensing gas. Around the same time, a half dozen group of armored cops entered the building, SMG.

The captain of the group opened one of my grenade and slid it down outside the door. And got up, quickly shooting in the direction of the intruders. The deafening bullet storm lasted for a only a few seconds, and I felt someone grab my arm, small but nonetheless rugged hands.

"Come on, kid." She said as she dragged me out of the building. The transition between regular and thermal smoke was rough, I felt the warm and thick air enter my lung and I coughed, my eyes getting blurry.

"Can you see a skiff, 3?" He asked and the large guy answered negatively. "THen let's move!"

We started running, until the guy in charge fell down to the ground, tackled by a guy in full armor. 

"Don't shoot!" He yelled, struggling. 

He punched and kicked but it didn't do much. The agent slowly dropped down his knife, pushing for the bandido's sternum.

"Shouldn't we do something?" I asked, as we kept moving but slower.

"Don't worry."

I looked back again and saw the trench-coat wearing guy roll over, making the man drop his knife, a sharp gesture of the wrist later, he produced a small handgun from the sleeve of his coat. He pulled the trigger and a half-dozen bullet latter, the guy was down on the floor.

He limped toward us and I saw he was grinning. "Thanks you Damocles for the ambusher." He said between two heavy breaths. 

"Is your place close, kid?" 

"Two street corner." I said, hearing the sound of sirens coming closer very quickly.

"Let's get moving then..."

The End

21 comments about this story Feed