Aftermath

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DuPont entered the office building and presented his identification to the security guard, "Has the Director arrived yet?"

"No Sir, he's on his way. Sorry about your guys."

DuPont nodded, "Thanks, Marv. Tough blow losing five guys."

"Five? I heard four, Murdock's in a coma, but the docs say he's gonna live."

"No shit?" DuPont shook his head.

"That's what I just heard."

"Finally, a bit of good news. When the Director arrives, let him know I'll be waiting in his office."

"Will do, Sir."

Morgan and Johansen turned the corner, Johansen muttered under his breath, "Shit."

About a hundred meters down the street was a checkpoint, men, and probably one or two women, were in position around it. With the tactical gear everyone was wearing, including darkened face shields and body armor, it was hard to tell gender from a distance. Some of the shorter ones had to be women, Morgan figured.

Morgan wished he'd left the rifle behind, but broken down it fit nicely into a small backpack, which he was wearing. And he really liked this rifle, he'd spent a lot of time customizing it to his own specs. That wouldn't be a problem if it was during the day and no one looked inside it. Checkpoints always searched people passing through, unless you had a badge. Good thing he and Johansen both had those, real ones, which they pulled out of their jackets as they approached the checkpoint.

"Hold it right there gentlemen," a voice spoke from the shadows.

At the same time three people stepped in front of the two men in civilian clothes, one had a military-style automatic weapon, another had a riot gun, the third man, holding a flashlight was armed but his pistol was holstered. That man spoke.

"IDs boys, and keep your hands where I can see them. Those badges you're sporting aren't gonna be enough tonight."

Morgan and Johansen pulled their credentials out and handed them over.

"Staties, huh? What are you up to this late at night and in this neighborhood?"

"The first part of that is classified, the second part, well, you do see a lot of crime in neighborhoods like this." Johansen swept his arm around, the neighborhood was mostly run down warehouses and abandoned small manufacturing businesses.

Nodding at Morgan, the man asked, "What's in the bag?"

"Tools."

"Let's have a look shall ..."

"What's the problem here, McGregor? Badges and identification not good enough for you?"

Morgan recognized the voice as the one which he'd heard coming from the shadows, he guessed the guy was the commander of this post.

"Just being thorough, Sir."

The man in charge, his face shield was up, looked at Morgan and Johansen, "Carry on, gentlemen. We're kinda hyped up, major shooting a few blocks over, couple of hours ago. We lost guys."

Johansen, his face revealing nothing, said, "Sorry to hear that."

Looking at Morgan, Johansen asked, "Think it's related to our thing?"

Morgan nodded, "Might be, boss. Something to look into at any rate."

The guy in charge looked at the two men carefully, a thought had struck him, "You guys on foot? Seems odd."

Johansen answered, "Yup, our vehicle is down this street another block, parked in an alley, you might have seen it. A white van, pretty nondescript-looking."

The man shrugged, "Didn't notice it, lot of beat up vehicles in this neighborhood. You best get going, might want to avoid this neighborhood for the next few days, Gonna be a heavy police presence."

Johansen nodded, "I'll bet. Thanks." Turning to the other people standing around he said, "Y'all stay frosty. Good luck catching your perps."

The Director walked into his office and stopped short, there was a man sitting behind his desk. "Are you DuPont?"

"I am, sorry about this, you have a nice view." DuPont got up from the chair and moved around the desk, hand outstretched.

The Director took DuPont's hand and shook it, "Rough night, eh Captain?"

"Very."

"Any thoughts on who did this? Terrorists?"

"It's political, but it's internal, not foreign."

"Really? Any evidence to support this theory, Captain?"

"No Sir, it's a hunch at this point. But we usually get a lot of chatter on certain channels when the crazies are plotting something, those channels have been quiet as of late."

"Hmmm." The Director sat in his chair and turned to look out over the city. The view from his office was nice, very nice.

He turned back around, "Need anything from us?"

"Surveillance, we need a lot of eyes in the sky and on the streets. You guys have the means to tap into the city's CCTV network, right?" DuPont explained.

"Not without a warrant."

DuPont gestured at the telephone on the Director's desk, "May I?"

After getting a nod, DuPont picked up the phone and punched in a number, when it was picked up he spoke a short series of letters and numbers, then hung up.

"You'll have your warrant by daybreak, Sir."

Morgan drove the van downtown, to the business district, where they'd parked a second vehicle. Entering a parking garage, the van made it's way up to the fifth level, where it turned in. Morgan parked in the first available space.

The two men dismounted and headed for the stairs, where they went down to the second level and retrieved their regular vehicle. Putting the backpack in the trunk, Morgan got into the driver's seat and looked over at Johansen.

"Where are we going?"

Johansen thought for a moment, then said, "Safe house in sector five should be good. The others won't be joining us for a few days and we need to figure out our next move."

Climbing into the vehicle, the two men left the garage and headed out of the city. Fifty miles later they stopped at a diner, both men were hungry.