WDOG: Chapter FIVE (Patreon)

[A.N.: This took much longer than I expected, sorry.]

-No More Superiority-

A minute later.

Chris watched the news broadcast on Roadman’s console, his brows furrowed in a frown.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We are here at the scene of an unprecedented and devastating attack on the Liberty Tower. I'm Nancy Anderson, and joining me is our field correspondent, John Roberts. John, can you give us an update on what we know so far?”

The feed shifted to reveal a field correspondent amidst the wreckage of a toppled. All that stood between the journalist and the burning swathe of destruction behind him were two Special Police Utility Robots and a line of forensic tape. 

“Nancy, it's a chaotic and tragic scene here, the correspondent said, raising his voice over the noise of hovering helicopters and blaring sirens. “Just hours ago, a group claiming to be members of the NMS movement launched a coordinated attack on the Liberty Tower. Explosions and confrontations with law enforcement have left the monument and the area surrounding it in disarray. As you can see behind me, emergency personnel are working tirelessly to treat the injured and secure the area.”

“John, have there been any reports of casualties?”

 “Yes, Nancy. Unfortunately, there have been numerous casualties reported, both among the security personnel on-site and civilians in the vicinity. It's a grim and tragic situation, and our thoughts go out to all those affected by this heinous act. Authorities are urging residents in the immediate area to stay indoors and away from windows. A statewide alert has been issued, advising everyone to remain vigilant and report any suspicious activity. Public transportation has been temporarily halted, and security has been heightened at key locations throughout the district.”

“Thank you, John, for your on-the-ground reporting. This is indeed a tragic situation. We will continue to provide updates as more information becomes available. Our thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by this horrifying attack. Please stay safe, everyone—”

Chris turned off the broadcast. “Fucking commies.” 

Sighing, he turned to Andrew beside who stared at him strangely. 

“Well, that’s awkward.”

“...What’s going to happen now, sir?” Andrew asked hesitantly.

Chris frowned, turning his attention to the warning notice from the precinct that popped up on Roadman’s console. ”The district affected would remain on lockdown for a few more days while NDI, PASIT and the precinct concerned organise a manhunt for all the perpetrators involved,” he said. “After that, I am not too sure what happens.”

“Will they be caught?”

“All of them? Hopefully, but I wouldn’t bet on it. The fact that they were able to pull this off in the first place means they have some really powerful paranormals on their side. There will always be one particularly troublesome one that always manages to escape.”

The trainee fell silent for a long moment before speaking again. “...Doesn’t the NMSM hate paranormals? Why then are the supes working with them?”

Chris shrugged in response. “They could be mercenaries. Or just deluded fools believing they are fighting for some greater cause; not everyone is capable of critical thinking. Either way, stay sharp. Intel regarding the protest in front of Crestview has been updated and use of lethal force is now permitted should the group posture be deemed threatening. Get your gun out. And, please, remember to switch the safety off this time around. I can’t have you fumbling on me again.”

The boy at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “Understood sir.” 

Roadman pulled up at the end of Main Street, some distance away from the protesters. The tainted air nipped at Chris’ sinuses as he stepped out of the car’s airtight cabin. Palming his pistol, he walked toward the chanting mas. Andrew, trailed one step behind him, his posture rigid with anticipation. Over the few minutes it took to get here, the protest had swelled in size. And with the now breaking news tension hung thick in the air as bystanders eyed the group in hostility.

"We need to disband this," Chris said to Andrew, his voice barely audible over the clamour. “Now.”

The junior officer nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd nervously. "How do we approach, sir?"

Andrew glanced around, assessing the situation. Signs waved high above the heads of the demonstrators, slogans painted boldly across them. “Just stand behind me and look menacing,” Chris retorted before turning his attention back to the crowd.

"Attention, attention!” Chris raised his voice, calling out over the din. “This gathering has been deemed a risk to public safety. You are required to disperse immediately."

In response, some protesters turned to look at him, their expressions defiant. Others continued their chants, blatantly ignoring the order.

"This is your final warning!” Chris warned. “Disperse now or face the consequences!"

For a moment, the crowd seemed to waver, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. But then, from the midst of the protesters, a man surged forward, his fist raised in defiance.

"We have the right to protest!" he shouted, his face contorted with anger. “We shall not be silenced!”

The crowd roared in agreement.

Chris met the fellow’s gaze evenly. "And we have a duty to maintain public safety,” he said evenly. “Now, disperse peacefully, or we will be forced to take action."

For a moment, the standoff hung in the air.

Chris unclasped his pistol, holding it at ease in front of him. The crowd recoiled in fear.

“You wouldn’t dare!” the fellow Chris was starting to suspect was the ringleader spat. 

“Oh, but I would, “ Chris deadpanned. “We have a permit to use lethal force if deemed necessary to disperse or neutralize elements of this protest which has been determined to be an imminent threat to life, property, and public order.”

“What do you mean “threat to life and public order”?” the fellow protested. “We’ve been peaceful!” 

Chris arched a brow. “Peaceful?” he chuckled. “Look up Liberty Tower.”

“I—”

“Just look it up.”

Hesitantly, the fellow retrieved his phone, a few others in the crowd following suit.

“Do you still think I won’t gun you down?” Chris asked. The ringleader paled and behind him, his fellow protesters slowly began to back away, their voices dwindling to murmurs.

As Chris watched the group slink away, Andrew let out a breath he had been holding, his shoulders sagging with relief. "Were you going to do it, sir?"

“Nah,” Chris smiled. “I was just bluffing. They might be stupid but that doesn’t mean they deserve to die. Still, it worked, didn’t it?”

“...Yes. Yes, sir, it did.”

…

Later that day.

“What are you doing here?” Chris demanded. He was standing in front of his apartment groceries in hand and opposite him was someone he most definitely did not want to see.

“We have to talk, Chris,” Amelia, his soon-ex-wife replied, obstructing the door to his apartment.