Unification: II

by Mr Badger

The World of Gunther: dark, gritty and you always seem to get the metaphysical wet spot.

Gunther looked toward the farm house with a pair of binoculars that were so powerful you'd suspect their father was the Hubble telescope and the mother was Handel's Auspex. With the amount of time that particular Auspex spends gathering gossip it just has to be a Discipline in the form of an old woman with a loose jaw.
It made a change to be operating in daylight so the generally nocturnal Gunther was wearing dark glasses as part of the outfit. The rest of the SMOP team waited nearby to leap into action like only the terminally scared can do, brown trousers were the fashion of the day and no mistake. The Supernatural Division of the Force (not the Dark Side, more of the coffee stained and wrinkled side if anything) had been working on this case for months now. Finally an informant had come through with the goods. The location of the main base for this Cult had been revealed and so the SMOP team had been reformed. There were a number of new faces amongst the team, replacements for those who just happened to Random Stop the car driven by a Black Fury Garou which was going through a form of Road Rage only the terminally Premenstrual with big rippy claws could pull off successfully in this day and age. Not as much fallen in the line of duty as added to the local scenery those officers had their names added to the wall of Honour at the station. The replacements could be spotted by the causal observer by their carefree manner and over eager backslapping. Once they'd been bloodied, more likely by their slow to dodge team members, they'd lose that sort of behaviour. There's only room for the serious or the dead in this sort of game.

Gunther watched as a lone guard circled the farm house's perimeter once more. It's a naturally human reaction to fall into a pattern of behaviour. These guards had done just that and were patrolling the area in regular sweeps. Gunther smiled and waved his team forward. They'd be complacent in daylight, suspecting a classic dawn or dusk raid as portrayed in the press. Those were the best times to attack, as stated in The Book, as human reactions were at their slowest and least able to respond to change. Also the team's golden SMOP letters on the back of their jackets would be silhouetted and thus very appealing to the fashion conscious eye with that sort of back lighting.

Putting on a large brown raincoat and picking up a suit case Gunther and an identically clad officer walked boldly down the foot path toward the farm house. Just behind the hill the rest of the SMOP team waited for the signal. The guard noticed their approach within moments and stopped them beside a rickety gate.
"Sorry, this is private property, you'll have to leave immediately!" Shouted the guard overly loudly. Gunther nodded to himself as he noticed the guard was wearing a large pair of ear muffs instead of a radio head piece.

"Excuse me sir, we represent the Books of the 'You Can't Hear Me Can You?' World Encyclopedia company and we'd like to show you a free demonstration of what we offer," replied Gunther with a smile.

"What? Speak up!" Shouted the guard as he stared at Gunther. Behind the man now, the other officer withdrew a large club and smacked the guard on the back of the head without an 'excuse me Meister!' to be heard [Author note: Black Adder joke.] Folding like a cheap road map would never dream of doing with out a struggle and a university degree in Origami the guard collapsed to the ground.
Throwing away the raincoats and withdrawing their weapons from the suitcase Gunther and the other officer quickly ran toward the closest barn's wall. Just as they came to a halt against the wall another guard staggered around the corner. With a blindfold across her eyes the guard carefully moved around the obstacles on the ground toward where her partner was moaning quietly in a dribbling heap. Blinded as she was by the blindfold (as they are famous for doing really if you think about it) the guard missed noticing Gunther and the other SMOP team member. Waiting for the guard to move far enough away for them to act Gunther took the moment to consider what he was up against.

There had been reports of a Fae Cult working the area for some time now. For a while there had been no real evidence to support such a claim then the abductions began. Children began to disappear as well as artists. The State didn't really miss the latter but the former were a great concern to society. With public pressure increasing the Supernatural Division began to see a sinister connection developing. The children that were reported missing were those considered by parents and teachers to be the sort to be lost in imagination, to tell stories of great cloud castles and lost treasure; to dream of being princes and princesses and to be loaners amongst their peers. It was that connection and the odd artist abduction that led the Supernatural Division toward a Fae connection. Creativity draws and sustains the Fae. Without it they fade and wither like plants in eternal darkness. Most Fae only take what is given freely but some of their Darker members have been known to steal from Mortals, to rape and pillage the creativity from people till there was nothing left. Shattered husks are all that remain after such an experience, something that would not be allowed to happen to these children. The artists, well, we'll see what happens.

After dredging the lower levels of the City, after offering rewards for those who would talk there had come word of a Fae Cult. A Cult of the Dark Fae operating from an out of town location. This was where Gunther and his SMOP team had been gathered against. Now that they had infiltrated the area Gunther was certain the informant had been entirely too right in his knowledge. Watching the man on the ground wearing ear muffs and the woman approaching him with the blindfold Gunther shook his head slowly. As if on cue the final guard in the triad approached. Wearing a gag the guard swept around the corner towards Gunther, summoned by a radio call from one guard or the other. There was a hiss of misplaced air as the guard was struck by a high speed projectile. Falling to the ground the man in the gag clutched at the tranquilliser dart in his neck before falling motionless. Not far away the woman in the blindfold fall as well, the dart slipping between her fingers with the drug already working inside her system. Walking quickly to the still bodies Gunther rolled over the guards and stopped dead still as each was revealed to possess a long brown hairy tail.

"Pooka," muttered the other Officer. "Unseelie?"

Gunther nodded and pointed to the other two guards. "Unhearlie and Unspeakie as well, we've got an Evil Fae Monkey Cult on our hands."
Gunther waved forward the rest of the waiting SMOP team and kicked open the door to the farm house. Inside were a large number of Fae all standing around picking imaginary lice off each other. (Fae Pooka are remarkably well groomed after all.) With that action rapidly getting the Cult members attention Gunther and the officer rolled out of the firing line and retreated back past the barn. Racing out of the farm house with an 'Oook!' or two the Fae Cult members stormed out after the SMOP team.
Reaching for his radio Gunther bought this conflict to an end. Calling for an air strike Gunther and the other officer rolled away just in time as the air craft roared overhead. Glistening objects fell from the skies on top of the Fae and stopped them in their tracks. With a sharp crack the Fruit Air Explosives opened and revealed a shower of bananas. Confused by the banquet the Fae stumbled around till they were rounded up by the waiting SMOP team members.
Happy to have finished the confrontation without fatality Gunther was interrupted by a call from the Force Coordinator. With a curse Gunther acknowledged the call and gathered his SMOP team back into their transports. Word was on the street, there was going to be a Gang clash that night. That was unless Gunther got there first.

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Gunther checked his watch, just minutes till sundown. If the briefing had been correct the two war parties wouldn't be too far away. Checking the preparations Gunther reviewed his notes. With the Sabbat being entered upon the Stock Exchange as a viable investment opportunity the Leaders of the Sect had been quick to catch on to the success word of the 80's - Franchise! The Executive Board of the Sabbat offered Franchises in a number of Clans to those they thought would best serve their plans to destabilise society. Finding many willing parties the Sabbat inducted many into their coffers. As with all ventures (and Ventrues as it happens) unforseen stiff competition developed between Franchises located, geographically, too close together. This was one such occasion about to unfold in the City streets. Two rival Gangs in a sprawl environment had both been granted similar claim to a Sabbat Clan. Ruthless enemies the two Gangs had hardly paused for the breath they no-longer needed before swearing a feud against one and other. The prize, the Mortals of the neighbourhood. From radically different cultural backgrounds the two Gangs were united by a common bond, the bond of Blood. With the same Sires but unresolvable differences the Gangs fought. Word on the street was the final play was to come tonight.

The first sign of trouble came when a leather clad figure rode up slowly on a motor bike. Wearing dark sun glasses at night [cliche!] and with no misty portrayal of breath Gunther needed no further proof that this was an advance guard for one of the Gangs. Dark skin glistened in the street light as the deep booming of rhythmic music filled the air. The rider swung herself off of the bike and stood with arms crossed facing the far end of the street. From behind the rider came the noise of similar music and the arrival of a bizarre band. Each was wearing leather and a number wore hats so bizarre in design you'd suspect you were having an acid flashback of a Dr Seuss book. Rap music filled the air from a number of oversize speakers as the Gang formed up in the middle of the street. Across their jackets could be seen the legend "LasomBro's!" in blood red hand drawn ink. Before The SMOP team could act came a jingle of metal from the other end of the street, the rival Gang were arriving.

Dressed in cloaks of brightly coloured blanket material they arrived. Hundreds of individuals seemed to disembark off a single bus as music of steel guitars and slow dancing responded to the harsh voiced lyrics of the previous arrivals. The sound of 'chink, chink, chink" of metal was heard as the rival Gang's leaders walked toward their leather clad opponents. The shine of gun metal could be seen as street light glanced off firearms. The smell of roasted beans over powered the stench of rotting rubbish in the street and a sickly taint of alcohol pooled in the noses of those who breathed for more than convenience. The rival Gang wore hats as wide as their opponents were tall. Round rather than stack shaped the head gear spoke of shielding the eyes from a sun soon to be forgotten by the wearers. They walked with lazy movements, as if the air itself resisted their passage. Eventually the two Gangs stood side by side. With a spit of tobacco the leaders of the Lasombreros greeted their foes.

As if to insult their opponents the Lasombreros drank from porcelain jugs of the vile Spirit they were famed for. Their skins were bleached white as a blood drained corpse in the sun due to the damaging effects of their Holy Tequila. The sweet stench of the alcohol carried in the air and many of the SMOP team had to concentrate to settle their stomachs from the inflicted rebellion.
Before either side could speak Gunther gave the word for action. Teams of SMOP armour clad figures raced forwards with glass shields in front of them. From all four sides surrounding the feuding Gangs the glass barriers slammed shut, sealing the Vampires within. Spot lights blazed into action throughout the entire length of the street, banishing any shadow that may have dwelt there. Enraged fists bounced off the armoured glass as the trapped Vampires screamed in fury at their betrayal. Some of the weaker willed Gang members tore into one another in Frenzy until they fell in puddles of gore at the feat of their peers. Sharpshooters fired bolts from precision crossbows into the crowd till the last trouble maker was subdued.
Silence filled the area as the leaders of the two Gangs stared in fury at those who interrupted them. Armed officers entered the containment area through electronic doors built into the enclosure. Seeing an escape route a number of the more ignorant Gang members charged toward the openings. They were either cut down by the officers or slammed into the now closed glass doors, their Clan weakness causing the electronic doors to ignore their presence and refuse them exit.
Gunther smiled as he left the Gang members to stew their fate in fury. Leaving the area for the professional negotiators Gunther walked to his car for the drive home. It had been a long yet easy day. No innocents had been harmed by his actions yet a number of them had been saved from further harm. It was a thankless job being a member of the Supernatural Division but at least the pay was good, while it lasted. 

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Real Unlife Police Stories III

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