5th Column Comics: Peacekeeper #17
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Just Off the Iron Circle, Indigo City
Anger, confusion and disappointment don’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling right about now. And nothing eats anger like throwing a punch at one of Indigo Cities numerous low-lifes, and Jacques Laurent AKA the Sabrage, a particularly malicious carrier with the ability to transmutate red blood cells into champagne, is about as low as it gets. After escaping thanks to the mechanisations of the gang boss Lex Hard, Laurent has been turning the city’s homeless population into high quality wine.
“Ah mon petit Gariden de le Paix,” Laurent coos, as he moves the sabre he’s armed with into a defensive position. “I was hoping to fight zee Wind Duster, but I guess I can use a warm-up.”
“Drop the accent Laurent, your file says you were born in Pittsburgh!” I hiss, as I drop under his guard, and slam the boss of his sword into his face. Shaking his head, drops of champagne dripping off his nose, Laurent reaches out only for me to slam one of my tonfa down onto his hand, the bones cracking, as I bring the second tonfa to bear, and slam it into his face over and over again until he collapsed under the ferocity of my blows.
“Please I surrender.” Laurent moans, as I push him backwards so hard, he hits the wall behind him with a crack.
“Good, stay here until the ICPD turns up or you’ll see my mean side.” I tell him, my anger subsiding for about half a minute before it comes back with a vengeance. Turning the corner I hear sirens sounding, and an ICPP cruiser streaks down the road, zooming past Laurent towards the warehouse district. I take three seconds to decide that I can’t be bothered, walking back towards where I store my equipment, only for a second ICPD cruiser comes barrelling towards me, before pulling up next to me.
“Miss Williams.” The familiar form of Detective Carmichael states, as he gets out of the cruiser, before slugging me in the face. “Do you know what you’ve done?” He asks, as my mind starts panicking about the potential crimes that I’ve committed throughout my adult life. “What you said to Torres, it only caused her to aid SWAT in investigating ‘the Suicide Warehouse’. She went in two hours ago and hasn’t come out yet.” He adds, as one kind of tenseness is replaced by complete panic. The Suicide Warehouse was owned by Mattock Military Solutions, although there is no garrison, not after they went inside the warehouse and vanished.
“She went inside?” I ask, nervousness sounding in my voice, as another police car passes us. “Because of me?”
“You didn’t help.” Carmichael replies, as he walks towards the car. “She has been lobbying for days to get you sanctioned by the police commissioner. He’s told her that continued association with you would cost her, her career.”
“I wish she’d told me.” I sigh, as Carmichael gets back into his cruiser. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Apart from preen for the cameras and gripe about the Response, absolutely nothing!” Carmichael spits, as the car engine sounds, before being joined by the siren. “You are nothing but a glory seeker, you don’t really care about this city!” He adds, his words sounding over the excess noise as he drives away. And while I tell myself he’s wrong, that I do care, the truth is that he is right. This city could be on fire and I wouldn’t care, or at least that’s how I used to feel. Something about this masquerade, and most importantly Torres is changing how I think, changing how I feel.
“I’m sorry Detective, but I’m about to show you wrong.” I whisper, before I head to the sealed unit where I keep the high end armour and equipment I’ve brought over the Phoenician Exchange. “I’m going to show everyone.”
**
Aokigahara Import Warehouse (AKA the Suicide Warehouse), Indigo City
It take fifty minutes to reload, redress and rearm at the storage space I rent, and then get back to the Suicide Warehouse. As suspected the police have been joined by the media circus, although the CBTF has wisely decided to stay out of it, despite how this building has strong ties to one particular Carrier, a one Oriana Nolan, the daughter of Liam Nolan, a former technician at Crotale Drive Systems, just one of the many companies which make up the Scahill Technologies alliance. Upon discovering his daughter was a Carrier, Nolan locked her in the warehouse to prevent Scahill and Xiphos getting their hands on her. In the end his fate was settled by me, albeit in my masquerade as Elouise Clayton, although his use as a novelty shot-glass holder continued after his unfortunate accident.
“I told you to stay away!!” Carmichael roars, as he walks over, his eyes surveying the hardened transparent riot face-plate connected to my helmet, and a set of tubes running down from a hardened canister across my armoured back and legs, and down to my boots.
“I’m not sanctioned by you, plus I won’t let you waste more lives by throwing officers into that building.” I answer calmly, despite the liquid rage bubbling below the surface. “I hooked a UV dye system to my boots, if nothing else it should help your men follow a trail to wherever SWAT and Torres ended up, assuming that I can find them.”
“This is just an attempt to grab face-time with the media!” Carmichael snaps, as several camera men and reporters come rushing over.
“It’s not, and if you want to stop me, shoot me, but just remember that I wear ballistic armour so you’ll waste a lot of bullets trying to stop me.” I reply casually, before walking over to the warehouse door, which has been left ajar, revealing a completely empty space inside.
“I’m not going to stop you. Not if you’re intent on throwing yourself into oblivion, but you’d better come out with Torres and the others, or else as soon as you do, I’m arresting you for obstruction.” Carmichael states, as he walks up beside me, and peers into what is essentially a normal warehouse space. “Good luck though, you’ll need it if you ever plan to come out of here alive.” He adds, as I step over the threshold, and take three steps towards the middle of the room, before tripping up a stone rise onto a ledge overlooking a sea of twisted almost skeletal cherry and maple trees, all running along a mountain stream, no sign of the warehouse around me at all.
“Okay so I’m not in Indigo anymore.” I whisper, before looking down at the path leading towards the river. “But that doesn't matter Torres, I'm coming for you.”
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