Breana is crawling on her belly, she does that a lot for some reasson. She is inside the house now and she keys her mic twice to let her team know she is in positions.
She is in the kitchen. Breanna can tell from all of the stainless steal and dirty dishes in the sink.
In front of her, on the other side of the kitchen island stands a tall dishevelled man. He is ranting and raving; yelling at the top of his lungs about how he was going to kill all his enemies, and other lunatic rantings.
The man is tall, well over six feet. He is also strong, with a stocky build. His hair is long and matted, clinging to his face through the natural adhesiveness of sweat. The man has clearly not shaved in days, and from the smell, showered either.
Patiently Breanna lays there on the cold linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor awaiting the go signal from her Sergeant. It will come she tells herself as she levels the tridium site of her P-90 at the crazy man's head.
She has to wait for the breach team to enter. Her job was forward recon. She is the first one in to ever dangerous situation in Freedom City, and she is porepared to take action.
To this point she has never had to unload her weapon, but that will not be a state she will be in for long.
Softly over her earpiece receiver unit she hears her sergeants gruff voice anounce the go signal. Moments later she hears loud voices screaming at the front of the house. Her breach team has busted down the door, and the shotgunners are busting through.
Breana's brain began to move at lightening speed. She has almost zero time to make a decision about what to do about her psycho target. He is turning towards the front door. Still not a threat. He is raising his weapon, a very very large pistol. Still not a threat. He is pointing towards her teamates.
Breana exhales and slowly depresses the trigger. Three rounds burst forth from her assualt rifle. All three find a home inside the skull of her target. With a loud crash, he plummets to the earth, slack and without life.
In a loud voice Breana reports the situation to her team. "Clear!"
The next few minutes of her life are lived in almost a bodiless haze. She safes her ewapon and stands to her full 5'6" height. Between her and the sack of dead organs and unflowing blood rests the island of safety and detachment. It provides her no real clear view of the consequences of her decision.
She can hear the shouts of her teammates as they clear the rest of the house. She also hears the shocking call from another room. This one is a call for support and witnesses.
Breana is still in a sort of shock as she rounds the island to see her handy work. There on his back lies a former man. Before she can comprehend what it is she has done here, her boss Sergeant Porcetti is at her side, turning her away.
"You need to see what he did." Always knowing what his team needs, Porcetti realises that this youngster must learn what she did in terms of justice, not in terms of manliness.
Porcetti takes her arm gently but firmly, and guides her down the hall to a small bedroom.
The scene there is chaotic to say the least. The room was most likely originally painted in a soft blue, but that is hard to discern at this moment due to all the red smears and splashes all of everything.
In the center of the room there are three bodies. Two very small and a the thirdstretched out acroos the others in a fruitless attempt at motherly protection.
Once he sees understanding croos Breana's face, the sergeant returns her to the kitchen. He begins placating any guilt she might have with tough guy platitudes. She is a hero. The saviour of her team.
From the front door they both hear O'day. "Shit, SID is here. How the hell did thye get here so damn fast."
SID is the special Investigations arm of the Freedom City Police force, they are the ones who investigate police shootings.
No comments:
Post a Comment