Moonrise CH15 – Takeover

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[1065 words – Prompts: Terribleminds, #3WW, Inspiration Monday, Sunday Scribblings 2 & The Writing Reader]

As Felix backed out of the scene, Massey heard his name being called. He scanned the crowd to find Andy pushing through the journalists, waving his hand at him. Massey cursed under his breath but gestured to the officers to let him under the line.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car and keep an eye on Joaquin.”

“Joaquin’s a big boy he can take care of himself. Besides, I have this.” Andy waved the press pass at his face.

“You do know I can bust you in for impersonating a reporter, right Mr. Kitz?”

Andy smiled at him. “But you won’t, Detective because you need me more than you want to admit. I know you didn’t drag me along all the way here just to sit in a car.”

Massey put his hands akimbo. “How’s that then?”

Andy took a few photos, the eloquent machinations of his camera adding nothing to the scene. He turned to face Massey again. With a nebulous wave of his hand, Andy said, “This is something you don’t see every day. I’m willing to bet that these people will be the first of many innocent casualties. We’re witnessing the uprising of something scarier than a mere civil war Detective, and I have the means to help fight it.”

Massey nodded for him to continue.

“I think you forget about my line of work, Detective. My tracking system is very efficient. Anything out of the ordinary that goes out in this city, any possible supers sighting real or fake, I have photographed, recorded and documented. My network is small, but it’s resourceful and capable of tracking supers. If you were to give me Miles Jensen’s file I might be able to scavenge the SuperHub and find out more about him.”

“Can you tell through your ‘SuperHub’ whether Miles was capable of killing these people?” Massey asked, a small hope rising in his voice.

“There’s a good chance, yes. We’ve written an algorithm that can predict the growth of the supers’ power or the opposite: its decline based on their demonstrations throughout the city. If there’s anything on Miles Jensen in there, it’ll help determine whether he did this or he’s innocent.”

Massey counted the possible entry points to the park. There were too many alleys, too many hidden spots. At this hour in the day it was practically empty save for the poor mothers and their children and the occasional joggers. It would be nearly impossible to find Miles on the tapes. It was possible more witnesses were going to come forth, but that could take days.

“I’ll get you the profile and bring it to your place later today.”

“Detective Massey! Detective Massey!” Frank looked up to see Officer Patterson out of breath rushing to keep up with two suited men leading a small envoy of SWAT officers. They were given space and allowed through the yellow tape and the barricades.

“You better find something else to do,” Massey whispered to Andy.

“I’ll be waiting at my place,” Andy whispered back and swiftly snuck back into the crowd, disappearing like the blue of the ocean under an oily slick.

The party approached Massey. Officer Patterson stood next to him trying to explain, but the shorter of the two men interrupted her and offered his hand which Massey shook reluctantly with a raised eyebrow.

“Special Agent Charles Batiste, FBI. This is my partner Special Agent Ozlovsky.”

“Detective Frank Massey, Seattle Police Department.”

“We know,” Batiste smiled. “The Bureau has taken an interest in the Miles Jensen case and would like to kindly ask you to depart the premises and instruct your officers to hand over any current evidence and documentation regarding the case that are in your possession.” He paused. “Including Mister Jensen.”

Massey snorted at them. “Like hell, I will. This is my case.”

The SWAT members spread out encircling the middle of the crime scene and instructing people to back out further and leave the premises. Their black reflective visors agitated him. This was not any ordinary strike team; they were suited to tackle terrorists, not unarmed men. Massey grabbed for his holster but the taller man, Ozlovsky tutted.

“There’s no need for that detective. Technically this is East Precinct’s area, so you have no jurisdiction here. Besides, they already gave the authority over to us.”

“Bullshit. The city council assigned West Precinct to these matters. And what the hell do you think this is?” Massey said waving a hand at the SWAT team.

“A simple matter of precaution I can assure you. Major Globe worries about the citizen’s safety. This savage attack has proven his point and furthered the city council’s decision that the Seattle PD can’t be expected to handle such people with superhuman abilities on their own.”

Massey’s composure faltered and he took a step further pointing his finger at Batiste’s chest. “Listen, Agent, you can’t be seriously expecting me and my precinct to back off so easily. Doctor Globe can parade all he wants that the city is in peril but the way I see it we have it under control. These extreme measures will only do harm to people. It’ll cause a panic.”

Batiste gently pushed away Massey’s hand and looked up the taller man straight in the eyes still sporting a greasy smile. “You needn’t concern yourself with the major’s motivations. It’s all for the greater good of the city, and that is all you should know. I’m sure that you would be more than happy to go back to petty crime solving and what not. I hear there is a lot of gang trouble stirring the Downtown Business District. Do you think the West Precinct can handle that?”

Batiste and Ozlovsky left Massey’s jaw tight and fists clenched. He understood he had lost this fight by the SWAT officer’s nod toward his M4 carbine. It was time to start walking.

As Massey made his way toward his car he pulled Betty aside.

“Officer Patterson, I need you to take the Miles Jensen file with you and the tapes from the CCTV before they’re delivered to the precinct.”

Betty looked puzzled. “But the FBI…”

“Just do it, alright Betty? Bring them back to my place. You know the address, right?”

Betty nodded and sprinted toward her vehicle. Massey smiled at his minor act of defiance. Before too long, that defiance would be overt.

Next: Frustrating Situations

About Mark Gardner

Mark Gardner lives in northern Arizona with his wife, three children and a pair of spoiled dogs. Mark holds a degrees in Computer Systems and Applications and Applied Human Behavior. View all posts by Mark Gardner

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