WDOG - Chapter NINE: Fallout (Patreon)

Fallout

The city lights flickered through the rain-soaked streets of District 11, casting an eerie glow on the shattered remnants of what had once been the front door of a skyscraping upscale apartment complex. A holographic projection of Chief Mark Anderson stood amidst the chaos, his face a grim mask. Officers and emergency personnel swarmed the scene, their movements a blur of urgency as they cordoned off the area and gathered evidence.

Anderson’s commlink buzzed incessantly with updates and demands from the district committee, Corpo stakeholders, PASIT, and even his own subordinates, but he ignored it for now. His attention was focused on the armoured transport unit parked nearby, where Christopher Newman, one of his most trusted subordinates, sat in preparation for transport to the precinct’s high-level containment facility. The corporal’s depowering had left him slumped and exhausted, his once-focused eyes now dull with resignation.

“Chief, we’ve got everything under control here,” one Sergeant Ramirez reported, his voice steady despite the tension crackling around them. “Forensics is sweeping the scene, and medical is attending to the injured. We’re ready to move Newman.”

Anderson nodded, his expression calm even as his mind raced through the implications of today’s events. Chris had gone on a rampage and the fallout was staggering. Millions of credit in property damage, several dead, and an assault on a government agent—a publically-loved PASIT heroine, no less. Yet, through it all, Anderson couldn’t ignore the emotions that had defined Chris’s actions, however misguided they had been. Even he was enraged when news of Evelyn’s kidnapping reached him.

“Good work, Ramirez,” Anderson said, his voice echoing from the drone projector’s speaker. “Make sure the media is kept at bay. We don’t need this getting any more out of hand than it already is.” The chief’s voice was calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil around him. “Get the team ready for debriefing once this is over.”

As Ramirez moved to relay the orders, Anderson’s hovering projector moved towards the transport unit. The human guards stiffened when Chris raised his head to face the projector drone, their hands hovering near their weapons, but a sharp look from Anderson had them relaxing.

The chief looked down at his subordinate, his eyes reflecting a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. 

“Chief, I—”

“Save it, Chris,” Anderson interrupted, his tone stern but not unkind. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I need you to understand the gravity of what you’ve done. You’ve put us all in a tight spot.”

Newman nodded, his jaw clenched. “I know. I’m sorry, boss. I just... I couldn’t let it slide; you know how these Corpos get when they think they can get away with bullshit like this.”

Anderson sighed, running a hand through his greying hair. “I get it, Chris. But actions have consequences. A lot of the shit you just stirred up is going to come down hard, and we need to be prepared. More than a few people will want to make an example out of you. I won’t let that happen. But you need to trust me, Chris. Do exactly as I say, and we might just get through this. Understand?”

“...Yes, sir.”

Anderson nodded, satisfied for now. His projection hovered away from the transport, signalling the guards to secure Chris for transfer. As the vehicle pulled away, Anderson allowed himself a moment to breathe. It was annoying, but the real troubles were only just coalescing, and he had to be ready. 

With a final glance at the wrecked building behind him, Anderson straightened his collar as he dismissed the hologram. There was no time to waste. The wheels were already turning, and he needed to stay one step ahead if he was going to get the foolish boy out of the mess he was in.

…

The next morning, the sky was a steel-grey canvas, promising more rain as Anderson strode into the precinct. His footsteps echoed down the hall. He had spent most of yesterday strategizing and unearthing old plans. Hopefully, they would suffice. 

As Anderson entered his office, his commlink buzzed. He recognized the number and sighed before accepting the call. Detective Martinez’s voice oozed with a smugness that set the chief’s teeth on edge.

“Chief Anderson, I heard about your little incident last night. Quite the mess your corporal made,” Martinez drawled, the satisfaction in his voice barely concealed under a thin veneer of politeness. “I trust you’ll be transferring Newman to our custody promptly.”

Anderson’s frown deepened but kept his tone measured. “Good morning to you too, Martinez. I’m handling the situation. Newman’s actions were extreme, but given the circumstances, we have to consider all factors before making any hasty decisions.”

“Hasty?” Martinez intoned. “The man’s a danger to society, and you know it, sir. PASIT is equipped to deal with paranormals like him. He belongs in our facility, where he can be put to use and not cause any more trouble for us.”

“Christopher Newman is one of my best officers. He’s had a clean record until now, and his actions were driven by the kidnapping of his sister. We’re not talking about a habitual offender. He deserves a fair assessment.”

“Fair assessment, sir?” Martinez said, his voice nearly hardening. “The law is clear. Unregistered paranormals are our jurisdiction. Please remember that if you refuse to comply, you’ll be obstructing justice … Sir.”

Anderson’s eyes narrowed. “I’m aware of the law, Martinez. But I also know the law allows for certain discretions. Chris will be punished, but we’ll handle it internally. He’s already under secure containment.”

There was a pause, and Anderson could almost hear the gears turning in Martinez’s mind. “You’re making a mistake, Chief.”

Anderson cut the call and lowered the commlink, his expression annoyed. 

“Fucking pest,” he murmured beneath his breath.

…

The boardroom in District 11’s precinct was a manifestation of corporate efficiency: minimalist design, polished surfaces, and a sweeping view of the district’s skyline. Around the table sat holograms of the district’s most powerful figures: CEOs, district committee members, and corporate stakeholders. Chief Mark Anderson sat at the head, expressionless.

“Thank you all for gathering on such short notice,” he began. “We have a pressing issue that requires immediate action. The recent incident involving Corporal Christopher Newman has highlighted significant flaws in our current system regarding paranormals.”

Linda Vasquez, CEO of OmniTech, one of the precinct's leading suppliers of cyberware and advanced weaponry, leaned forward. “We’re aware of the damage caused, Chief. What’s your plan to mitigate the fallout and prevent future incidents?”

Anderson activated the holo-display in the centre of the table, revealing detailed charts and projections. “Chris Newman is a powerful asset whose potential can be exploited. By integrating paranormals like him into the force, we can directly control and utilize their abilities to enhance our security posture.”

David Chen, a seasoned councilman, raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly does this benefit us more than just letting PASIT have him?”

Anderson pointed to the display. “First, increased operational efficiency. Paranormals offer capabilities far beyond those of regular officers—and in cases like Newman’s— even cyber-enhanced ones. This means faster response times to paranormal incidents, more effective force projection, and greater overall security. Abilities like Chris’s, if properly harnessed, could prevent incidents like last night’s from escalating; It took PASIT thirty-five minutes to get boots on the ground. By the time they had arrived, Newman was already in secure containment some hundred meters beneath the earth. Had he been less inclined to surrender, I am sure you can imagine what would have happened.”

“The plan is to expand our internal affairs division to include paranormal specialists,” Anderson continued, preempting questions on oversight. “Regular evaluations, stringent control measures, and a transparent reporting system will ensure accountability. Moreover, having paranormals under our jurisdiction reduces the risk of unsanctioned actions by powered operatives.”

“What assurances do we have that this won’t create more liabilities?” Anderson turned to face the speaker, recognising her as one Elena Torres, a prominent member of the district committee. The same district committee that had been trying to secretly defund his units for the past few months. Elena was an ally, however, so Anderson was not particularly worried about her line of inquiry. 

“I doubt it would be any more than we already face with PASIT’s powered operatives,” he answered. “Direct oversight on our end is projected to actually mitigate these risks more effectively than letting an external agency like PASIT handle it.”

Anderson paused, letting his gaze pan across the assembled faces. “This isn’t just about one incident or one officer,” he said. “It’s about establishing a new precedent for managing paranormals. By doing so, we more effectively ensure that your investments in District 11 remain secure and prosperous.”

Linda Vasquez exchanged a look with another CEO, then nodded. “ This plan has merit; You have my support.”

Anderson allowed his gaze to flicker across the assembled individual, watching as the dominoes slowly began falling in place. Hopefully, it would be enough.