The Richardson Rikers

[Richardson Police Precinct | 0830 Central Time, Day 2]

Two men are in an interrogation room.

The third watches from behind a two-way glass screen.

The third being Detective Isaacs, the two being Mendez and Detective McConley.

McConley asked Mendez a plethora of questions, all of which relate to his recent skirmishes with BP over since yesterday: the convenience store, the cafe (twice), the Duke & Hopkins shell company, Sui's apartment, and most recently, the skin shipment interception.

Of course, Mendez complied to each and every one of McConley questions, not withholding any information from the police officer, not even the fact that he used to be a high-ranking member of BP himself.

"You used to be one of them? What made you quit?"

"Short version of the story is that they fired me."

"And the long version?"

"Slightly longer version of the story is that they fired a gun at me head."

"Oh," retracted McConley, who had just noticed the round entry wound on Mendez' forehead. "I assume they're here to finish the job? Again, I mean?"

"I mean, who likes a loose end? They've tried to take me out before, they kind of succeeded but turns out they weren't as successful as they thought. Of course they'd want to take me out for good."

"Either way, your knowledge of these BP guys will be valuable to the PD."

"What, something going on between you and--"

Mendez was interrupted by gunfire outside the chamber. He was about to stand up when Isaacs barged through the door, pistol in hand.

"We got shooters in the first and second floor!"

"Here we go again," reacted Mendez nonchalantly.

"Stay here and watch over him, I'll try and help the guys out," instructed McConley to Isaacs, to which Isaacs nodded.

With McConley gone, Mendez was left in the interrogation chamber with Isaacs watching over him.

The gunshots outside of the chamber was becoming louder every passing second. Lots of noises outside, but Mendez knows one thing for sure: the BP assailants are coming for him, and they were gunning down the police officers defending the station--or to be precise, defending him.

Mendez has to do something--to which he already knew what that 'something' is. He is going to need a gun though since La Mutilar was confiscated when he arrived at the station.

"Yo Isaacs, mind letting me out there?"

"Nuh-uh, you stay put," said Isaacs as he slightly opened the door to take a peek. "I know what you're capable of and all that, but it's too risky--"

Isaac didn't finish his sentence.

A stray bullet just hit him on his right shoulder!

Mendez quickly shut the door as he leaned Isaacs against the chamber's wall.

"Now you stay put," instructed Mendez as he reached for Isaac's gun--a Beretta 92FS, SLPD's standard-issue handgun. "Remind me to return your gun, alright?"

And with those parting words, Mendez stepped outside the interrogation chamber to deal with the BP threat.

Right as he got outside, a BP merc was standing right in front of him, gun in hand!

With lightning-quick reflexes, Mendez parried away the gun on his hand and fired his own at the merc's torso!

BANG! BANG!

But the merc didn't go down immediately--he was wearing bulletproof body armor!

And so Mendez aimed a bit higher-- at the merc's forehead!

BANG!

And as the merc in front of him collapsed, Mendez saw a BP merc firing at the cops from behind a row of desks, unaware of his presence.

Mendez took aim again.

BANG!

Following the takedown, Mendez assessed the situation.

Beyond where Mendez stood were another row of desks, which served as good cover for Mendez from incoming bullets that might be directed at him. However, beyond these rows of desks was a stairwell that led to the ground floor, which Mendez presumed was where the BP mercs were coming from. The stairwell is the only way to access the first floor from the ground floor and vice versa, and since the interrogation chamber is located at the far end of the first floor opposite the stairwell, the cops defending the chamber had effectively backed themselves into a corner. If BP kept on pushing against the cops' barricade, sooner or later they will be overrun.

Mendez thought to himself. Unless there's a way to--

Hold that thought. Something had just landed near him. Something small and metallic.

Like a hand grenade.

Mendez looked around, and there it was. A hand grenade had just landed near the dead BP merc he shot earlier.

"Hoooo boy," exclaimed Mendez as he scampered for the nearest refuge--the window on the wall next to the desk row.

Mendez didn't care if it's a second-story window, or if there might be nothing to cushion his fall from the building. All he cared about was to get away from the grenade blast.

Mendez put his arms forward and jumped through the window.

The window exploded from his weight, and as if on cue, at the same second, the grenade exploded.

BOOM!

Mendez barely escaped the blast as he leaped out of the building!

And as it turned out, he landed at the trunk of a parked police cruiser that cushioned his fall!

"Dumber ways to die I guess," said Mendez reeling from the pain of the impact as small debris, dust, and glass shards sprinkled down on him.

Gathering himself, Mendez noticed that his fall had damaged the cruiser's trunk, causing it to partially open and reveal to him a fine piece of equipment to assist him: a Remington 870 police magnum shotgun.

Going back inside the police station through the first-story window, Mendez noticed a BP merc standing guard with his back turned against the window.

Too easy, thought Mendez as he strangled the merc from behind with the shotgun, knocking him out cold.

But then to his left, another BP merc ready to fire at him!

Mendez held the choked-out merc upwards with the shotgun, using him as a human shield as the other mercenary opened fire!

Noticing a desk behind him, Mendez lifted his shotgun, leaped backward, and rolled over the desk to find cover!

While still crouching, Mendez then circled around the desk and fired at the advancing BP merc firing at him earlier.

BANG!

Following the shot, Mendez ejected the shell. And with that, the cubicle is clear. Onto the next one.

The next cubicle was when Mendez saw yet another BP merc aiming a gun at him.

Only this time, the merc was holding one of the police officers as a human shield.

Mendez' mind raced. No hostage negotiations with this one.

Looking slightly upward, Mendez spotted a low-hanging fluorescent light over the merc's head. A well-placed shot at the wires attaching the light to the ceiling should sever its connection and cause it to fall on the merc's head.

With that in mind, Mendez flicked his aim upwards and pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Sparks flew out from the wiring as the light gave in to gravity and plummeted at the merc's head--

--but before the light could effectively stun the merc, he fired his gun at Mendez!

Mendez didn't see the aftermath of the light crashing down as he stumbled to his right following the impact of the bullet against his rainjacket, causing him to drop the shotgun.

He did however, manage to pull out his holstered pistol as he got back up...

...and after seeing the officer free of the distorted merc's clutch...

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

...riddled the merc with bullets!

Mendez pulled the police officer from the ground. She was unharmed.

"That's a bit embarrassing. You alright?" Mendez asked the female officer.

She nodded. "How'd you get here? Thought you're upstairs with Detective McConley?"

"That big boom just now? That had something to do with it," said Mendez as he scooped La Mutilar from a desk next to him. How convenient. "You seen any more of these guys, officer...?"

"Bishop, Leigh Bishop," answered the policewoman as she picked up her firearm from the floor--another Beretta 92FS. "Most of the gunmen have moved upstairs."

"Right then Leigh," said Mendez as he checked the bullets in La Mutilar. Three bullets left. That will do. "I'm going upstairs. Thanks for the heads up."

***

First there was Mendez, then there was none.

All thanks to that grenade explosion. After the dust settled, Mendez was nowhere to be seen.

No time to think about all that, thought McConley.

More importantly, why does it seem like we're all alone here?

McConley grabbed a dispatch transceiver from a wounded officer near him. "All units, this is Detective McConley, code 45 in progress, I repeat, code 45 in Richardson! Officer requesting backup!"

"10-4 detective, we've got five units coming your way, ETA 5 minutes, over."

"Bullshit! Nothing lasts five minutes--"

--a bullet ricocheted against the wooden desk in front of McConley just milimeters off his face!

With his call for backup interrupted, McConley took a peek around the desk.

At least nine of those BP mercernaries were on the second floor.

On the other side of the floor were him, Isaacs and another officer totalling three cops. They were definitely outnumbered.

McConley pulled out the magazine from his issued firearm. Five rounds left.

Apparently outgunned too.

If he can makes those shots count maybe he might--

BOOM!

Another explosion rocked the entire floor, throwing four of the mercenaries across the room. Something must have blown up on their side.

McConley spotted one gunman breaking from his ranks to check on the stairwell.

BANG!

The gunman collapsed, bullet spouting from his head. He had been shot.

Someone was definitely downstairs. Could it be...?

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

A hailstorm of bullets rained on McConley's desk, barely missing him and forcing him to retract his head!

Shifting his weight and going into prone position, McConley took aim at the mercenaries' legs visible from under the desks.

He had a clear shot, and fired once.

The bogey fell to the floor face first, presenting another opportunity to McConley.

He fired yet again. Enemy down.

But not a second after that, McConley heard heavy steps coming above him.

When he looked up, one of the mercenaries had climbed the desk he was using as cover, his submachine gun trained at his face!

BANG!

It wasn't McConley. But it wasn't the mercenary either.

Instead, McConley saw the desk-climber mercenary going limp before collapsing to the floor with a loud thud, a gnarly bullet exit wound visible in his temple.

McConley looked to his left. Mendez!

Not a milisecond after, Mendez stumbled. A bullet struck him from his left side!

Shifting his view to his right, McConley spotted a gunman aiming at Mendez' direction!

McConley drew his firearm.

He fired three times, then--click!

McConley's pistol went dry.

Not that it's a problem, since the mercenary lied dead on the precinct's floor.

Silence. No more gunshots, no more explosions, no more chaotic altercations.

***

Mendez let out an amused whistle as he approached McConley. "I owe you one."

"I'm gonna have to charge you for stealing my line there," said McConley as he dusted himself off. "If it wasn't for you, things would've ended badly."

"Before we were so rudely interrupted, you were saying something about me being useful to the PD regarding these BP cronies...?"

McConley let out a sigh. It's going to be a long explanation. "Eighteen people missing the past three weeks. Men. Women. Children. Snatched straight off the streets. All apparently done by a number of street-level gangs, but people don't just go missing at once. Not within a ridiculously short time frame."

"You think that it's too coordinated. That a singular entity is pulling the strings--and by that I mean, ALL the strings."

McConley nodded. "We've been conducting raids on various places of interest like no-tell motels, dilapidated housings and known gang hideouts, but every time we go there..."

"...them places are always abandoned. Can't find anything, like they know you're coming."

Another concerned nod from McConley.

"You still have any addresses on your checklist?"

McConley told him an address of interest.

"Right. Leave it to me, I'll take care of it."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," said McConley. "This here's a police operation. Can't have people running around with our intel busting doors and heads."

Mendez straightened his posture. "I hope you know this already, but I think there's a mole in the police force. Whenever you guys wanna go on a raid, this dude told the bad guys that--you know how it works. Me? I'm not with the cops, these guys won't see me coming, not because their mole told them at least."

McConley went silent. He thought Mendez' proposition hard.

"And I also saved your ass, so I think it's the least you can do."

McConley snapped out of his deep thoughts. "So that's what it's all about, huh?"

"What, you don't appreciate living another day?" rebuked Mendez. "Don't worry, I'll tell you all you need to know."

Another three seconds of consideration, and McConley finally nodded. "All I need to know about these BP people?"

Mendez nodded. "All you need to know." And with that nod from McConley, Mendez started to walk to the nearest exit.

"And what if the place is empty when you get there?" asked McConley as Mendez turned his back on him.

"Way I see it," replied Mendez as he turned around. "That means you're THAT mole in the PD. Easy as."