Rays of the early morning sun broke through the wooden blinds. Steve groaned as he stretched in bed, careful not to knock an empty glass off the drawers beside him. It was days like this he loved working the afternoon shift at the station. No alarm to wake him up. It allowed time for a shower and a good, cooked breakfast before he even thought about leaving the apartment. Quietly, he rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom, passing his detective’s badge and gun on the dresser, as he ran a hand over his stubble.
A moment later, hot water washed over Steve’s body as the shower kicked in. The apartment was modest, compared to some properties in the city, but the shower was a recent addition, thanks to a bonus he had earned. It was one of the most expensive things Steve had ever purchased, and probably raised the apartment’s market value, but it sure as hell had been worth it.
As Steve turned in the shower, washing the last of the gel from his hair, he saw Debra standing in the doorway, watching him.
“You should have woken me,” she purred, running her eyes up and down his body.
Steve offered a mild shrug. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Debra smiled and pulled her panties down, kicking them off when they reached her ankles. She pulled off her T-shirt, revealing the rest of her body. Steve grinned, gazing at her breasts, modest but amazing, as she pulled the band from her short brown hair and shook her head.
“Always considerate,” Debra purred once more, before getting into the shower.
They sat at the little table in the kitchen, eating a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Debra had prepared fresh green tea with lemon and the smell was wonderful. Steve guessed it was a thank you for the sex earlier, even though he had done his best not to wake her.
“I always love this stuff,” Steve said before drinking.
Debra nodded in approval. “It’s better than coffee, first thing in the morning. Then again, you work with a bunch of caffeine addicts, so I have to counter it.”
Steve laughed. “I’m pretty sure you do, as well?”
Debra put her cup on the table. “Touché.”
Steve observed the uniform of the supermarket that she wore. Unlike him, Debra had to start in an hour, due to staff shortages. A guy she was in charge of had called in sick the day before. But he had then posted a picture of himself and his girlfriend on social media that night, on vacation.
He did not realise people knew about it, but he was in for one hell of a rude awakening.
Fearing that he had forgotten to wash his own clothing, Steve searched the kitchen for it.
“Behind you,” Debra said.
Steve glanced over his shoulder. His grey trousers, white shirt, tie, and jacket were on a hanger that dangled from the door handle.
He sighed in relief. “You’re a star.”
Debra smiled. “I know.”
“Have you spoken to your manager yet?” Steve asked before sipping his tea.
Debra picked up the local paper and shook her head. “No. Not yet.”
“Babe, you should go for that promotion. You do more hours than anyone there.”
“Yeah, I know, but if these shortages persist, then it isn’t going to happen. They need people on the checkouts and filling the shelves before promoting anyone.”
Steve sighed. “Aren’t most of those things self-service now?”
“Yeah, but have you seen some of the people I have to deal with? My favourites are the idiots that go to a card-only checkout, and try to pay with cash.”
Steve frowned. “Aren’t there signs?”
Debra nodded with her lips pursed. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean people read them.”
Steve shook his head. Despite technology developing at a snail’s pace over the years, human intelligence had remained stagnant.
Debra held the paper out for him to see the front page. “But, then again, you have bigger problems than me.”
Steve stared at the headline and accompanying photo. “Yeah, and it ain’t going to go away anytime soon.”
“Two cops arrested in the same year for rape, one in this city, and one who committed it while on active duty. This shit is unreal,” Debra said while reading the paper.
“Yeah.”
She lowered the paper upon noticing his brief response. “Are you getting shit for this?”
“All cops are at the moment. I’ve had stuff said to me on the street, so have the other guys, and we’ve had reporters trying to get a quote from us and ask for interviews. It’s gotten tiresome,” Steve grumbled.
“I don’t get how this could happen. Didn’t the police go on a massive recruitment drive?”
Steve put down his cup and pinched the top of his nose. “Yeah, but most of them were diversity hires, and the background checks were rushed. Now shit’s hit the fan. The folks who did the checks and the interviews have just vanished.”
Debra shook her head. “That’s terrible.”
Steve offered a shrug. “Yeah. There was even the cop who shot that tourist after being on the job only ten months. Another diversity hire. The woman’s family got a lot of money in the settlement, besides the funeral costs.”
Debra stared at the paper. “Jesus. I thought these kinds of employment drives were supposed to be good for everyone. What am I missing here?”
A chuckle escaped Steve as he picked up his cup. “It’s a noble, but misguided, mission. Getting in people from different backgrounds is fine and looks great on a report and a front page. But if they’re not competent, or remotely qualified, it’s a mess someone else has to clean up.”
“And what about this?”
Steve followed Debra’s pointed finger to the corruption story on the next page.
“Yeah.”
Debra frowned. “That’s it?”
“I’m busy with it today, I think.”
“Oh, come on! Spill the beans!” Debra moaned.
“You know I can’t talk about it. I don’t need it being gossip fuel for your place,” Steve reminded her.
Debra turned the page in annoyance. “Boo!”
Steve shrugged unsympathetically. “Sorry. Them’s the rules.”
“Detective?”
“No comment.”
“Just one question?”
“No comment.”
“Care to give a statement about the growing corruption within the police?”
“No comment.”
Steve repeated his answers to several more reporters as he made his way to the precinct. It was days like this he knew he wasn’t paid enough.
Al Hope was waiting for Steve inside the precinct entrance. He wore a creased suit with a badly knotted tie and his shoes needed polishing. Al’s thinning brown hair looked like he had combed it with clawed fingers before leaving his home. Steve shook his partner’s hand and stood next to him as he gazed out of the window.
“Not a nice greeting,” Steve said, folding his arms.
Al pointed to the right of the precinct steps. “Neither was that.”
Steve followed his gaze to the growing crowd of protesters. Some of them were chanting, punching into the air, while others held up sheets of painted cardboard. Each one displayed a different message, ranging from Jail Rapist Cops, Lock up Killer Cops, and other colourful examples.
“Jeez,” Steve said, running a thumb over a scar on his palm.
A mugger had gifted it to him during an arrest a few years back. Despite surgery and stitches, the scar remained as if taunting him.
Al nodded. “They caught another one this morning. Crane, a uniform on street patrol. Raped a woman and then threw her onto the rocks by the sea. Only she survived and crawled to safety with broken legs. Took her most of the night.”
Steve pressed a hand to his face. “Oh, my god.”
“Yeah. Reported it when the ambulance crew found her and then alerted the press. She wouldn’t go to us for fear of the guy trying again.”
Steve rubbed his forehead. “Where’s Crane now?”
“In a cell, on suicide watch. Tried to eat his gun when they came for him. His trial is going to be a circus, that’s for sure,” Al said before turning from the window.
The two of them walked towards their office at the end of the corridor. “What are we doing today?” Steve asked.
“We’ve got to meet Captain Bumstead in his office once everyone else has their cases for the day. He wouldn’t elaborate why,” Al said as they reached their tiny office.
They sat either side of a large desk they shared and went through the mundane task of answering emails. Steve tapped his computer screen in annoyance whenever the antique unit froze.
“That won’t help,” Al reminded him without looking up.
Steve growled in frustration. “Years of exploration to other planets. Technological innovations. But, we still can’t build computers without operating issues!”
Al laughed. “Hey, some planets don’t even have current-model cell phones.”
Steve looked over his screen. “You can’t be serious!”
“Nope. Some governments see them as a blight on civilisation. The best ones you can get in the farthest corners of the galaxy are the most basic, and even they cost a pretty penny. Importing up-to-date models is expensive.”
Steve laughed as his computer resumed working. “Not a bad idea. At least kids on those planets don’t walk around like damn zombies.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“At least.”
“Shit, I’d probably live somewhere like that, no trouble,” Steve mused.
“I don’t think Debbie would, though,” Al pointed out.
Steve shook his head. “We just share an apartment and fuck occasionally. It’s nothing more than that.”
“I need to find a woman like that,” Al said with a chuckle.
Steve grinned as he opened another email. “A few beers and the right bar? You’ll be fine.”
A knock at the door drew their attention. Captain Bumstead stood in the doorway, wearing black trousers and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His usual comb-over was messy this morning, and Steve had to suppress a smile upon noticing it.
“You boys ready?” the older man asked.
“Yes, Captain,” both men said at the same time.
“Good. With me.”
They got up and followed Bumstead out of the office. He walked to a smaller meeting room and ushered them in. Once inside, Bumstead shut the door behind them and locked it. Ash Sutherland, another detective they were friends with, waited in the room. He wore a lighter grey suit that, while cleanly pressed, sported a coffee stain on one sleeve.
“You know, a good stain remover will get rid of that,” Al said as they shook hands.
Ash nodded as he shook hands with Steve. “That’s what she keeps telling me.”
Unlike the others, Ash had made the effort with his hair. Dyed blonde to hide his greys, it was neatly trimmed into small curtains. He was practically the only man Steve knew with such a haircut.
“So, what’s going on, Cap?” Al asked, turning to Bumstead.
The captain stepped closer to the men and spoke in a low voice. “We’re to escort Brian Mallard to his court appearance tomorrow morning.”
The three detectives exchanged surprised looks with each other. “Isn’t that supposed to happen next week?” Steve asked.
Bumstead folded his arms. “It was, but several credible threats have been made against his life. They decided to move the time frame up.”
Al scratched his head as he let out a deep breath. “Shit. So, what’s the play?”
“We stay here tonight, move him early in the morning, and sleep it off in the court building. Phone home and let your spouses know, without giving any details,” Bumstead explained.
“What are we carrying?” Ash asked.
“Standard issue guns, nothing more.”
Bumstead’s words were greeted with a chilly silence.
“Captain? We’re supposed to have vests at the very least,” Steve reminded him.
Bumstead shook his head. “We can’t attract attention to what’s going on. Mallard’s testimony will bring down some very powerful players. If they even get a whiff of us moving him, we’re in trouble.”
“What about Mallard, though? Has he got a vest on?” Ash asked.
“Yeah, he’s been living in it for the last week. I wouldn’t allow him to even shower unless there were three trusted uniforms watching him,” Bumstead said.
“Shit. This is going to be one hell of a day,” Al said, pacing about the room.
Bumstead leaned against the wall. “Do what you need to in the meantime. Play cards, answer emails, even man the phones if you want. If anyone asks, say you’re helping with staff shortages. It’s not like that’s a lie.”
“Can we get pizza later? Debra moans whenever I have one, because of how unhealthy they are,” Steve asked.
Bumstead bowed his head as he laughed. “Sure. Just don’t you dare order one with pineapple on it. That’s an arrestable offence in my book.”
“You mean, I get the place all to myself tonight? That’s a shame,” Debra teased.
Steve rolled his eyes as he held the phone to his ear. “Yeah, you sound really upset about that.”
Debra giggled. “Just make sure you bring some takeout back for me.”
Steve regarded the slice of meat feast pizza in his hand. “We’re not getting pizza. Probably noodles or something like that.”
Debra was unconvinced, and she did not hide it. “Of course you will.”
The conversation finished, and Steve hung up the phone. He turned his attention to Ash as he typed at a computer with an impressive speed.
“What are you doing?”
Ash kept typing as he answered. “Just writing a report on why the hell you haven’t made it official with that girl yet.”
Steve shook his head at the remark. “Because it’s a casual thing and will most likely stay that way.”
“You’re wasting your time, Ash. I’ve been through this with him already,” Al said from across the room.
“Okay, so what’s stopping you from making it serious with her? Jeez, you already sound like you’ve been an actual item for years,” Ash continued.
“Because it works just fine the way it is. There’re no strings attached, no commitments. We just fuck when we want to, or need to, depending on how our days have been,” Steve explained.
“It almost sounds great, but the personal connection isn’t there, is it?” Al asked.
Steve offered a meek shrug. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m telling you, you got to make it official with that girl. Doing this job while being on the market sucks. It’s even worse going home to an empty place,” Ash said.
“You got any plans after this whole case is closed?” Al asked.
“I’ve asked for time off. I want to go on vacation somewhere, preferably a place that has a beach,” Steve replied.
Al snapped his fingers. “That’s it! You need to take her with you!”
“Dude, she works in a supermarket, remember? Her bosses are pricks for allowing time off,” Steve reminded him.
“Well, find a way to go somewhere and bring her with you! I’m in total agreement with Ash on this one. You need to make it official with her! I think you’re wasting a golden opportunity here!”
Ash sat with his arms folded and a smile beaming across his face. Steve glanced at them, one after the other, and bowed his head.
“But what if she says no? What if the whole thing is ruined because I cross that little, invisible line?” he asked.
“Dude, you won’t know until you try,” Al said.
Steve threw up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll do it. Once the case is closed, I’ll make the arrangements.”
Ash and Al cheered together. Steve waved them down as he took another slice of pizza from the box.
“I can’t believe the stuff you guys have talked me into over the years. You’re like a bad influence on me,” he grumbled between chews.
“Hey, we’re like a pair of Jiminy Crickets. We’re here to help,” Ash joked.
Al chuckled as he reached for another slice of pizza. “Look at the best thing we ever did for you. We stopped you from eating pineapple on pizza, one of the worst sins out there.”
Steve finished the slice with a laugh. “Yeah. I’ll concede that one.”
“These stairs will kill me before anything else!” Al groaned as they headed for the holding cells.
“Speak for yourself. I keep skipping the gym and now, I’m paying for it,” Ash complained.
Steve chuckled behind them, thankful he had spent extra time on the cross-trainer that week. “You boys need a better diet, too.”
“Bite me,” Al grumbled.
Ash left the staircase a level early and headed for their car in the garage. Steve and Al reached the bottom of the stairs and walked along the corridor of cells. Because of the early hour, all the lights were dimmed to allow any prisoners a reasonable sleep.
“Where is Mallard?” Steve asked.
Al snapped his fingers to the cell at the end as they walked.
The two detectives stopped in front of the cell and observed the sleeping Mallard. He slept in a ball, his brown hair an uncombed mess. His shoes, glasses, and an empty cup were on the floor under the bunk.
“He’s actually sleeping in a bulletproof vest,” Al noticed.
Steve huffed in amusement. “And yet, we couldn’t get any.”
Al shook his head and knocked on one of the bars. Mallard jolted awake and regarded them cautiously.
“You’re the detectives?” he asked, a little groggy.
“No, we’re beauticians,” Steve replied.
Mallard shot him a glance as he rose from his slumber. “There’s supposed to be three of you?”
Al jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “The other guy’s getting the car.”
“Is there any chance of a coffee? This thing was hell to sleep on,” Mallard asked, rubbing his neck.
The detectives shot each other a look. “Yeah. There’s a doughnut in it, too, if you move it,” Steve said.
Mallard shot him another look as he reached for his shoes. He put his glasses on last and stood, brushing blanket fibres from his shirt. Al opened the door and ushered him out.
“Alright, detectives. What’s the plan?”
“We’ll move you to the car in the underground garage, where our colleague is waiting. Stay in between us at all times. We will then drive to the court and proceed inside, via the rear entrance. Again, stay between us.”
Mallard nodded at Steve’s instructions but then pointed to his chest. “Why haven’t either of you got vests on?”
Steve and Al shot each other another look. “Let’s just go,” Al said.
The walk to the garage was slow as Mallard woke himself up. There were no coffee machines along the way, so he would have to wait for the courthouse before being refuelled. Thankfully, he was quiet for most of the time, only speaking as they approached the garage entrance.
“It’s cold down here,” he grumbled.
Steve nodded with little interest. “Yup.”
“Wow. I see you’re the sympathetic type.”
“It’s our job to keep you alive. We’re doing that,” Al reminded him.
Mallard sighed. “True, I guess.”
Steve rolled his eyes as they approached the door to the underground garage. He wasn’t a praying man, but he hoped to any god listening that Mallard would not talk in the car, but he knew that was forlorn.
“Hold,” he instructed.
Mallard and Al stopped behind him. “Uh, why?” the witness asked.
Steve pressed his teeth together. “I have to make sure the way is safe.”
“But we’re in a police station?”
Steve’s patience wore thin, and he glared over his shoulder at the man. “We take nothing for granted here.”
Mallard absorbed the stare and wisely remained silent.
Steve put a hand on his gun, holstered inside his jacket, and opened the door. The creaks and groans of the hinges echoed across the garage, only populated with four cars, including theirs. Steve took two steps in, looking around before making eye contact with Ash as he sat waiting in the car.
“Well?” Mallard asked nervously.
Ash gave Steve a thumbs-up from the driver’s seat. Steve nodded quickly and withdrew his hand from the gun. He turned to Mallard and Al, giving them a nod. Mallard let out a dramatic sigh.
They crossed the distance to the parked car quickly. Al got in the passenger seat as Steve and Mallard got in the back. They shut their doors in unison, sending a huge echo through the garage. Mallard was shaken by the noise and tried shrinking into his seat.
Ash noticed him in the rear mirror as he started the engine. “We’re fine, buddy. Just relax.”
“Yeah,” Mallard replied, buckling his seatbelt.
Steve shook his head as he slid the belt across his body and clicked it into place.
Ash kept the car at a steady speed as it approached the shutter blocking the exit. The motion sensor above it detected them and activated the roller, drawing the shutter open. Early morning light spilled into the garage and Steve yawned involuntarily, realising he was more tired than he thought.
“Looks like you could do with a coffee as well,” Mallard said.
Steve ignored him as he rubbed his eyes. Once the shutter finished opening, Ash drove the car out of the garage and onto the main road. They joined the sparse traffic and headed for the courthouse as a tall building hid the sun from them.
“Anything?” Steve asked, before yawning again.
Al looked around them. “Nothing.”
“Good.”
They drove for a while in silence. Mallard stared out of the window as he, too, yawned. It annoyed Steve, given how he had slept more than them. As he stretched, Steve noticed Ash looking at him in the rear mirror.
“What’s up, Ash?”
“Guys, I’m really sorry.”
“For what?” Steve asked.
“We’re not going to the courthouse.”
Mallard turned from the window. Al regarded Ash with a frown. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Ash swallowed hard before answering. “Please, try to understand.”
“Understand what?” Steve asked, sitting up.
“I was in terrible debt, and they offered me a lot of money. I couldn’t turn it down.”
Mallard was sweating as he listened.
“Oh, God, Ash. Please don’t tell me you sold us out,” Al pleaded, reaching for his gun.
“Please, don’t. I’m sitting on a pressure sensor. If I’m moved, it will trigger the bomb.”
Steve froze, his hand mid-reach for his gun. “What the hell have you done?”
“They’re not interested in us, just Mallard. Let them take him. We’ll get paid, and it’ll be all over.”
“Oh, God!” Mallard whispered.
Silence engulfed the car as eyes darted from one man to another. Mallard was rigid in his seat, sweating as he waited nervously for something to happen.
Then the three detectives burst out laughing.
“You prick, Ash! You were more convincing than I expected!” Al said in between laughs.
“Fuck! I almost believed you! Did you rehearse that before we arrived?” Steve asked as he finished laughing.
“Yeah, man! I couldn’t do it with a straight face at first!” Ash replied, wiping tears from his eyes.
Mallard looked at each of them in disbelief. “You… you mother fuckers! That was not fucking funny!”
“Yeah, it was! You should have seen the look on your face!” Al said, turning in his seat.
Mallard was enraged as the men fought off more laughter. “I’m going to report you to your fucking captain for this!”
Steve playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, it’s early morning cop humour.”
Al sighed as he looked out of his window. “Yeah, man, just chill-”
The passenger side of the car exploded as it was launched through the air. It hit the ground and rolled, smashing through a wooden fence on the back of a large department store. Mallard was screaming as the windows shattered, spreading shards of glass around the men.
“Shit!” Steve shouted as a small shard cut his cheek.
The car came to a stop upside down. Steve drew his gun and hit the button on his seatbelt. He fell to the roof and scrambled to his knees, crawling into the front to check on the others. Al was dead. Blood trailed from his mouth and dripped onto the dented roof. Ash groaned as he touched pieces of glass embedded in his forehead and cheek.
“Oh, no!” Mallard croaked.
Steve looked at the witness as he stared out of his broken window. A man was slowly approaching them from the other side of the road. He was dressed in black from head to toe, besides a split in the mask for his eyes. He opened the grenade launcher in his hand and ejected the empty shell. It clanged on the road and bounced out of sight as he produced a new one from his belt.
“Come on! We need to move!” Steve shouted.
Mallard undid the belt and dropped from his seat. Crawling, he followed Steve out of the other window. Steve reached through to free Ash, but his partner stopped him as he shook his head.
“Don’t. Just… go.”
Steve nodded and then got to his feet. He pulled Mallard up, and they ran for the back gate of the store’s rear. Steve kicked it open and shoved Mallard through, just as another grenade whistled through the air. The car exploded behind them, sending a plume of smoke and flame into the air. Steve mashed his teeth together as he ran, pulling Mallard along by his bulletproof vest.
“He’s going to kill us!” Mallard shrieked.
“Just shut up and run!” Steve barked at him.
Ahead was a fire exit to another department store. Steve knew they had to get in there, find cover, and call for backup. Whoever that guy was, a handgun was no match for his firepower.
Another grenade whistled through the air. It exploded in front of them, sending both men sprawling. Steve lay dazed as he fought to regain his senses. Mallard was crying, wherever he was. Steve searched for his gun, his head ringing like it had been hit with a sledgehammer.
Footsteps approached as he tried to focus. A gun was cocked.
“No! No!” Mallard whimpered.
Bang!
A shell casing bounced and rattled across the concrete. Steve slumped where he lay. He knew what was coming.
A cold chill ran over his body.
The assassin stood over Steve, his gun aimed at his head.
He did not speak. He knew there was no point.
The assassin’s eyes were cold and emotionless as he squeezed the trigger.
The last thing Steve saw was a blinding light as it consumed him, speeding towards a welcoming darkness.