Angelos Odyssey

by J. B. M. Patrick

  He stood up but abruptly ceased speaking to glare at the two of us, as if his gaze carried the weight of some hidden punishment…

  I swear that brother’s on drugs sometimes.

  Sergeant Odwal kept pressing for specifics; he was good at what he did. “I mean should we get him for something small and bring him in to expose a larger op, or—”

  “Frankly, I really don't give a damn, Odwal. Whatever you do, we need a confirmed murderer and substantial evidence to support the confirmation—something good, Sergeant; don't fuck it up. And if you fail on this simple task…” The Lieutenant gave the two of us a significant look. “Sergeant Odwal will be demoted to Corporal upon the next review cycle, and you, Corporal, will probably be sent to another Division along with a review from me that should all but end your career in the Bureau. Do you understand the conditions put out to you?”

  “Got it, Sir.” Sergeant Odwal was quick to reply.

  “Seems easy enough.” Needless to say, I was put off by Shraeu's approach… at least we had real work to do, though.

  Lieutenant Shraeu looked over at me again and issued an intense, almost childish glare. “From here on out, you'll take all directions from Sergeant Odwal. Just let me hear about you talking back, disrespecting rank, or disobeying the slightest command and I will fuck up your whole world, Corporal. Don't try my patience on this; I can't make that clear enough. I've heard that you can be a handful when it comes to authority, and although I respect and allow room for… ‘creative thinking,’ I'm not gonna allow you to fuck over any of my people—you got that, Corporal?”

  “Yes, Sir. There won't be any problems.” I said confidently and without skipping a beat. He's not a very intimidating guy, but everyone in the office has this like… stupid reverence for him. Dawn Bureau brainwashing, I guess.

  “Good.” Shraeu finally appeared content. “Now both of you get there; time's already running out.”

  “No problem, Sir!”

  There were problems…

  -

  I reclined slightly in the passenger seat with Sergeant Odwal to my left while in a police cruiser disguised as a regular vehicle, albeit a somewhat beat up one for appearance sake. After all, what gang lord would suspect a trashy ride. Every Sergeant in the Bureau was assigned their own, unautomated personal cruiser, and anyone possessing a lower rank was forced to sit shotgun for every case unless the Sergeant had a different preference.

  Sunset approached when we parked a few meters down from the entrance to a small club in Zone F, a Zone commonly used to access the Lower-City Quadrants. Much to my chagrin, we’d been watching the soap opera of Kip unfold for the past three weeks without anything to show for it. Normally we'd have a certain set of hours where we worked, which was times when we knew we could track him consistently. After I'd bitched at Odwal over and over again, he finally agreed to put us in for overtime in order for us to spend a total of five days constantly following the gang member's movements…

  This turned out to be the biggest pain in the ass for the two of us.

  For us, that meant no showers, wearing the same clothes unless we'd brought spares, and sneaking around to try to use the bathroom in the city. As far as food, we'd stocked up on rations that we thought would hold us over for the entire five days—but Sergeant Odwal's fat-ass had already blown through most of it.

  Furthermore, it didn't help that he'd started to smell like trash before we'd even reached the end of the first night. I literally lived in a cruiser and slept in some of the hottest temperatures I'd ever experienced… and we could only use the vehicle's air conditioning between certain times to avoid drawing any suspicion, as it only worked when the cruiser was active. I think the most idiotic thing the department had done was give us these “tactical” rides that didn't even have tinted windows—so not only did we have to stalk the same person for four days, but we had to keep finding ways to make it look like we weren't stalking him!

  Tracking was especially agonizing when Kip suddenly began going through what seemed like twenty prostitutes a day—I mean that boy was some other kind of nasty criminal, but thankfully we'd made a breakthrough on the third day of surveillance. Kip had finally slipped up after all this time, and I was going to take him down myself…

  -

  I peeked over at Sergeant Odwal, who'd buried his face into a bag of chips.

  “So, what do you do when you're not on the job?” I asked him. “Hit up dinky ass clubs like this?”

  He sneered and looked agitated at the notion that I'd even tried to make conversation. Like I was in the wrong for wanting to make the best out of a bad situation. “No. That shit's not for me.” He scowled.

  “What is for you then?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” He kept looking forward at the club smugly.

  I shook my head but kept trying to relate to him; we had to have something in common. “It's been hot as hell all day; tch, I can't wait until I can get a shower in—gotta be sinful to be this dirty.”

  “It's part of the job,” he shrugged, “if you can't deal with it, go somewhere else.” Odwal uttered a condescending laugh. “You think this is hard? I was just a fucking grunt in the military and used to spend months in much worse shit than this here, miss. There weren't no damn showers or down time or whatever you've grown up with on the fancy side of the Citadel.”

  “So you think I'm a softy, huh?” I folded my arms and smiled at him. I wouldn't let him get to me.

  “Lady, I'm saying you should stop bitching!” He groaned. “You're police, so act like it; this job isn't for some princess. This stuff is the shit—I don't care if you used to be a regular on the streets. It's this right here,” he attempted to come off authoritatively but just looked awkward as he pointed down, “this is where every you do has gotta count!”

  “So, I'm a princess?”

  Odwal responded by grunting and slouching back in his seat; I didn't have time for his bullshit after I'd been through the same hell for the past few days. I wasn't going to let his ass off that easily.

  “Excuse me, I'm talking to you.” I said, demanding some kind of acknowledgment.

  “Is that how they taught you to address Sergeants, sister? Keep goin' and I'm writing you up after this operation.” He winked at me.

  I'm not normally a violent one, but I wanted to punch his ass out in that moment for being so disrespectful.

  “Boy, I'm pretty sure you don't even know how to spell 'Sergeant!'”

  He finally turned to me and stared hard. It was almost as if he smelled worse the angrier this guy got.

  “You wanna be disrespectful now 'cuz your panties are all in a bunch.” He seemed to relax for a moment as he sighed, exasperated. “Get over it, lady; I'm not your friend, and it's not really like they’re gonna keep you in homicide anyways. This work's too heavy for some like…”

  “Like who?”

  “You.”

  “Wait. What?”

  The smile he gave me nearly sent me over the edge. “You ain't cut for the work.” He looked away and said, “I can just see it. I was hopin' the Lieutenant would put me with one of the guys who's been in the field before, especially for something like this…”

  “You mean you was hoping he'd put you with a dude, right?”

  That annoying smile wouldn't disappear off his face. I was halfway tempted to slap the hell out of him at this point.

  -

  Janelle

  -

  Tavon started laughing.

  Aaliyah looked at him hard before speaking: “What? What is it, dumbass?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, “it's just that this guy sounds like a total dick. I'm glad I don't have to deal with people like that…”

  Aaliyah stared down into her cup and sighed. “Yeah. That's what I thought… at first. I was convinced that I was going to end up hating him, but sometimes people surprise you, you know? This city gives everybody their own problems.

  -

  Aaliyah


  -

  An hour passed, and the two of us hadn't spoken to each other since he'd made it clear, in his own way, how he felt about women in general. I watched him take out an older model of what looked like a cell phone attached to his hand by a flexible band and watched as its home screen flashed to a picture of him posing with another man.

  It was then that I realized something… Odwal didn't necessarily prefer females.

  I chuckled. “You're gay! That's what it is!”

  That was the first time I'd ever seen Sergeant Odwal blush, and it was the most human thing I'd ever seen him do. He quickly put his phone away and replied curtly, “That's none of your fucking business.”

  “It's not like I care,” I shrugged, “I've worked with a lot of good people like that… You guys make a cute couple.”

  I'm getting too old to stay petty in a bad situation.

  He didn't say anything. I looked at his left hand and noticed a black, rubber band on his ring finger. “You two just get married? I'm guessing you’re the 'guy?'”

  “Engaged.”

  “What?!” I think I was more shocked that he'd actually taken one of my questions seriously.

  “I said, 'engaged!' We decided to wear our bands anyways because we wanted people to know how committed we are…” He waved me off with his hand nonchalantly. “Loyalty's important to him, I guess…”

  “I see.” I waited a moment before asking my next question. “So, does that mean you aren't religious or…”

  “We go to church.”

  “How does your fam—”

  “Why do you ask so many fuckin' questions, lady?” Odwal looked at me like I’d just slept with his lover. “I'm not the fuckin' suspect.”

  “I'm just making small talk, damn. I've never really believed in marriage, because, from my experience, most men ain't really shit at the end of the day. But seeing someone like you being so… faithful is a little moving honestly.”

  I smiled at him.

  The Sergeant turned his gaze back to the club building, which had been shaped and sculpted to represent an artfully-decorated maze complete with four stories—four different levels for four different types of paying guests. It seemed as though he was trying to focus on something that wasn't there. He was concentrating too much…

  “Your last marriage… was it a dude, too?”

  A long period of time passed, and then he finally answered me. “Yeah. The bastard cheated on me with a fucking woman.”

  And then it all made sense, and I had to fight back the laughter rising up within me. I patted him on the back—which caused his shoulders to tense—and said: “What a bitch. My dad, gods help his soul, used to run around on my mom and never stuck around to live up to his own role. It was hard on my mom, because it was just her and us after she'd worked up the strength to throw the deadbeat out on his ass…” I continued, “He tried to use us to get to her; he said, 'Tell mommy to let daddy back in the house. Tell mommy that daddy loves his family.' Tch, I thought my mother was about to start whipping him with a frying pan right there on the spot!”

  Finally. Finally. Finally. The bastard laughed, and my mood changed for the better.

  Sometimes it just takes a whole lot of force to crack someone's shell—you know that—and Sergeant Odwal had a bigger heart than the two of us… only he smelled a lot worse. I think a god must have heard my prayers from the previous two nights, because we were about to catch a break…

  Kip suddenly came running out the club and down the road from us a little ways to get in the passenger side of a cruiser that had just rolled up! First of all, the vehicle's autopilot system had been turned off—which was already illegal and sent up red flags—and the driver was visibly shaking, either coming down from something or… on the run?

  The Sergeant and I retrieved binoculars and searched through them to see a bearded man partially disfigured with a scar running deeply across his left eye and who appeared to be overly nervous. As Kip tried to calm the bearded stranger down, we watched as the man lifted up a knife still freshly coated with red.

  “Holy shit!” Odwal exclaimed.

  Upon seeing the bloodied knife, Kip's eyes grew wide and he quickly grabbed a cloth that he used to wipe down the weapon before crouching down to hide it somewhere in the interior. The newcomer then had what seemed to be a frantic conversation with Kip, but Kip was aggressively trying shut him up and appeared to instruct him to start driving away from the scene. Sergeant Odwal and I made eye contact, grinning. This was our ticket to peace of mind; something so carelessly placed right before us…

  “We got 'em.” I said smugly.

  “Hell yeah.” Odwal started the engine. “Call it up on the radio; I'll put on the siren to let those fuckers know they're done for! Let's get them exposed in the public eye.” He did that wink thing again, something I'd grown to despise, but it was somewhat appropriate for this scenario.

  We peeled out of the parking space just as the cruiser began to turn around to leave, and the vehicle siren began echoing loudly throughout the area. Just as I used my call sign to let a dispatcher know where to redirect me over the radio, Kip and his accomplice came to a loud, screeching halt!

  So easy… I thought.

  That's when the first bullet rang out.

  Before I'd even had time to turn around, a large piece of shrapnel pierced the stereo system of the police cruiser followed by a flurry of metal that rained down on our vehicle!

  The two of us ducked the best we could in order to avoid getting hit, and Sergeant Odwal shouted fiercely: “Get out!”

  He rapidly parked us sideways and pushed me with great force out the passenger door before shutting off the vehicle’s engine!

  I hit the ground in a roll and recovered to see another cruiser that had pulled up behind us…

  “Hurry!” The Sergeant ordered. “And call it up on the portable!”

  While we'd been busy stalking Kip, his crew had been just as preoccupied with stalking us. They'd been at a standstill, waiting for us to make the first move before they struck. Before I'd even drawn my own pistol, Odwal had gotten into cover behind one of the doors of the cruiser near me into a kneel and wielded an assault rifle he'd retrieved from the backseat—all in a matter of seconds; he'd been well-trained.

  The two shooters who’d just pulled up remained in their cruiser as they fired desperately in our direction with their own handguns. Taking advantage of their lack of accuracy, Sergeant Odwal delivered a barrage of fire which promptly sprayed across the front of the cruiser—and, simultaneously, he yelled to me: “Cover the fucking rear!”

  Despite the fact that I was trembling uncontrollably, nearly paralyzed by the rapid change of events, I put myself together and pivoted to rest my back against his while peering to see Kip and his accomplice taking cover behind their vehicle.

  They could now confidently deliver their own suppressive fire… which could prove to be the end of our duo.

  Seeing the only available opening when the bearded man took a knee to reload, I sprang up resiliently and fired at Kip once, twice, and pierced the joint of his elbow with my third attempt, all but blasting open the surrounding structures!

  From behind, Sergeant Odwal quickly dispatched an enemy driver after shooting several rounds into his head; blood splashed across and covered their front windshield in a thick film. The second shooter who'd arrived left the cruiser and inadvertently revealed that he'd taken two hits—one to the shoulder and one to the abdomen. He attempted to lunge but could only limp forward as he raised his weapon.

  Odwal was quick to react and fired another round that found its home in the man's larynx. The shooter instantly collapsed to the ground, which left the two of us free to completely focus on Kip and his companion and two other men who'd suddenly emerged from the club along with a series of screaming civilians. The newcomers sprinted to take cover behind construction near the scene.

  “Hold up!” Sergeant Odwal ordered. “Don't shoot until you know ca
n get a clear shot! All right?!”

  The both of us crouched down in response to Kip and the bearded man returning fire, and I cringed when I heard the screams of a woman who'd caught a stray bullet to the chest.

  She, along with many others, lost their lives in that struggle.

  When I'd returned to stand, I struggled to gain adequate focus and found myself capable enough to fire a bullet into Kip's collarbone—incapacitating him for the remainder of the fight. Odwal followed my strong lead by delivering a shot that buried itself into the bearded accomplice's right side and sent the man who'd brought the suspicious knife to the ground.

  “He's down! It's a clean shot.” Sergeant Odwal stood completely erect and expressed a genuine smile of relief…

  A bullet burst through his skull.

  Odwal fell forward as his punctured head slammed onto the hood of the cruiser. His body slid off the vehicle onto the concrete. Odwal’s body continued to twitch for several seconds after catching the round, and I watched whatever was left of the Sergeant rapidly fade from his eyes as a rivulet of crimson flowed from the entry wound.

  My friend. I froze in place and felt a cold sweat overcome my body.

  I couldn't move. Terror overtook my form, and I wasn't able to react in time as another round coursed straight into the center of my firing hand! My bloodied weapon dropped onto the cruiser, emitting a loud clank.

  I heard a subsequent blast while in shock and felt an intense burning sensation that caused me to look over at my right arm… which was now decorated with a massive gash; one streaming scarlet atop my bicep. I wasn't able to feel it all at once, but as I slowly realized what had happened some of the pain took charge; I fell to my knees while tucking my broken hand tightly under my left arm. I remember it pulsating, and naturally I cried enduring unbearable agony.

  Pain I'd never experienced before… and in such an amount both mentally and physically.