12 Bad Company

At about noon I pulled into the parking lot behind a warehouse across from Ace's. Over the past several weeks I had scoped out a number of different vantage points to watch the gang's comings and goings without drawing attention to myself. I parked and pulled out my binoculars, settling in for the long wait. 

I had no way of knowing when Zacharia would show, but I had the gang's normal trends pretty well figured out. Every night Acolytes would show up, and in large numbers. Normally they started arriving sometime after five, though high-ranking members would sometimes frequent the bar earlier in the day. Zacharia was the Sergeant-at-arms, and there was a chance he would need to tend to business before the rest of the crew showed up to the party, so getting my eyes on the place as early as possible was the safest bet. 

Over the next several hours I monitored the bar, working through a bag of spicy nacho chips and listening to random podcasts to kill the time. I was halfway through the bag when I caught sight of the first few bikes pulling into the gravel lot. My hunch paid off, As the three Harleys pulled in, I could make out Zacharia in the lead. Jackpot.

Dusting nacho dust off my fingers, I sent Daniel the update. I pulled out my binoculars and tried to get a look at the three men. I didn't recognize the other two, but one of them, a bald guy covered in tattoos, caught my eye.

I couldn't figure out why, but something about him set me on edge and made my stomach squirm. A familiar sense of unease, I couldn't place, rolled over me making my skin crawl. I shook it off and returned to my binoculars in time to see the entourage walk into the bar. All I could do now was keep tabs on the door until the cavalry showed up. 

It was another half hour before I picked up the squad car pulling into the parking lot behind me. Daniel pulled up along my passenger side and I rolled down my window. 

"A few more showed up," I told him, "I counted six go inside the bar. When the other units get here, we can take him without much fuss." I looked over but paused when I saw the look on Daniel's face. "You ok?"

"Yeah. About all that... There aren't going to be any more units," he said. 

"What?" I exclaimed, "They sent you alone to take a fugitive from a biker bar?"

Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Well no... we're under orders to stay away from the Acolytes. No one else would come with me."

I shook my head in shock, "You're kidding. Then why the hell are you here?"

Daniel frowned, "I wasn't about to let you do something stupid on your own!"

I rubbed my face, feeling frustrated. The two of us against six bikers? It was way too risky, I didn't like it. 

"Get out of here Daniel." I said, "If you're under orders to stay away, then stay away. I'm not letting you get in trouble over my bullshit."

Daniel's face turned sour, "Fuck you, John. This isn't just about you. Do you know what that Zacharia guy did? I talked to the arresting officers. He beat down a woman at a gas station and dragged her into a bathroom where they found her battered and bloody. She would only say he did it to steal her smokes. They think he did worse to her, but for some reason, she won't talk. The guy is a monster. A violent fugitive who I intend to bring in, end of story."

Daniel's jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed, I could see his determination setting in. There was no way I was going to talk him out of it now. 

"Shit, this is such a bad idea." I said, "Ok, if we are going to do this, we do it now. The longer we wait the more of their crew will show up."

Daniel nodded, "yeah. Did you say six? We can handle six." Daniel looked over to the bar, preparing himself for what we were about to do. "So much for not kicking down the club doors hu?" He chuckled.

I let out a breath through pursed lips, "Let's go." 

We drove across the Street and parked in the gravel lot next to the bikes. I climbed out of my car and fell in step alongside Daniel as he approached the door.

"I've got the badge, so you let me do the talking," he said.

I scowled at him but didn't argue. Daniel opened the door and we walked in.

It was a dimly lit, dismal-looking place, only the faintest rays of sunlight creeping in through blacked-out windows. That creepy skull logo with the swirling eye pyramid hung draped on a banner along the back of the bar. Rock music floated through the room mixing with the stale smoke hanging above pool tables and rickety chairs in low clouds.

The first thing that registered as soon as we entered the bar was just how badly I had messed up. There weren't six men inside... No less than a dozen bikers sat at tables or along the bar, drinking and smoking. When we entered the room, their rough laughter and chatter ceased as all eyes turned towards us. 

Under their collective gaze, I felt a chill roll over me as the talisman's influence took hold. Within the Aether, the room was splattered with translucent gore, ghostly blood smearing across every surface. The entire place was crawling with sickly black and grey worm-like Negasites, each with wide round mouths filled with blood-stained razor-sharp teeth. The worms collected around the boots of the men, licking the Aetheric blood from their feet. Stranger still, a whole hoard of the worms had climbed up on the wall and clustered around the gang's banner, encircling the pyramid. the worms were lapping up the remnants of the pain and misery these men caused. I felt sick. 

I took in the room and found Zacharia sitting with his two companions, including the bald tattooed biker, at the end of the bar furthest from us. Seeing the tattooed man again, I felt that unexplainably specific unease towards him intensify.

Zacharia took a drag from his cigarette as he turned around, looking us up and down. "Are you a lost officer?" he asked Daniel.

Daniel was no rookie, he knew how to maintain composure. His expression didn't show an ounce of concern as he looked lazily about the room. To anyone else, he would have appeared bored, but I picked up the subtleties. His forearm rested on his gun, the retention hood already dropped. His eyes swept over the hands of the men in the room without betraying fear.

"No, I know exactly where I am thanks," he replied "I was hoping to have a quick word Mr. Stonewall?" 

Seats shifted as the bikers rotated to face Daniel directly without getting up. The room filled with silent tension, and someone cut the music.

Zacharia looked past Daniel to me, "Who's the ride-along?" Zacharia asked as he took a swig of beer. I stayed back, leaning against the wall near the door, maintaining the same practiced nonchalance as Daniel.

"I'm a civil rights auditor," I said before Daniel could speak. "Trying to keep these dirty cops in line, you know?" I smirked. The bikers laughed again. Daniel looked back and stared daggers at me.

"Well mister officer and civil-rights-man," Zacharia said, putting his cigarette out on the counter, "say your piece."

Daniel scanned the room again, "I was hoping we could talk in private, Mr. Stonewall," he said.

A smile mischievous smile crept across Zacahria's lips, "Oh don't worry, it's very private in here," he said. 

I heard a click from behind me outside the door. I reached over and gave it a push, but someone had locked it from the outside. Shit.

 (Music recommendation: "Gunfight" by Sick Puppies)

Chairs scraped across the floor as the entire gang got to their feet. I saw metal knuckles and blackjacks slipping out of pockets and heard the sound of switchblades flicking open. In the Aether, the worms began to writhe in nauseating excitement, expecting a feast of agony.

Daniel dropped back a step and drew his weapon. "Everybody sit back down," he ordered before clipping his radio "This is Charles-one-seven, requesting code three cover for multiple armed assailants," he barked into the radio. 

Several of the thugs laughed darkly. "I think you missed the memo officer," Zacharia said as he walked towards Daniel. "You aren't supposed to be here..." The gang spread out and moved around encircling us.

Daniel and I re-positioned, standing back to back. His gun was drawn, but I knew even if he took a shot at one of them, they would be on us before he could take out a second. I reached for Daniel's belt and yanked off his collapsible baton, opening it with a flick of my wrist. It looked bleak, there was no denying it. And of course, that was when the dumbest of dumb ideas hit me. 

I spoke in a low voice to Daniel at my back, "Remember that apartment complex riot a few years back?" I asked.

I heard Daniel groan, "are you freaking serious?" he hissed.

"Yup," I said. I reached behind my back, feeling for Daniel's belt again, this time pulling off his can of pepper spray, keeping it concealed behind me. 

"Last chance boys," I said. "We just need to step outside with Zacharia here. No one needs to get hurt."

The group howled with laughter. Zacharia looked over at the tattooed bald man standing next to him, "What do you think Jeb? Does someone need to get hurt here?" he asked.

The tattooed man, Jeb, leered at me, "Oh yeah."

Despite the severity of our predicament, I felt singularly repulsed by Jeb's face, as though he reminded me of something unpleasant from my past, thoug I couldn't say why.

 In the tense stand-off, I met his eyes, only a brief moment, but that was all it took... A wave of nausea rolled over me, making my knees buckle. I fought against it trying to stay on my feet. But the pain intensified and rolled up my chest and into my head.

"Oh no..." In a flash, I was gone.

I was a girl, injured and naked, strapped to an old dirty mattress. Men were everywhere. Jeb stood shirtless above me, his sweaty face lit with evil glee. I screamed as man after man fell on me. Jeb stood there, laughing and taking pictures as it happened. They violated me, beat me, cut me... 

The vision changed. It was a different time. I was a different girl, screaming, pleading.

It changed again. A third girl this time. 

Over and over, countless women cry for help.

The vision rolled over me like a tidal wave before I came crashing back into myself. It must have lasted a fraction of a second, though it felt like a lifetime.

Struggling to regain my composure, I looked back at Jeb, having seen the true depths of his depravity. Oh god. all those women, all that pain. And he liked it. No... he craved it. Yearned for their screams I felt cold fury rising in my chest.

"Fine" I said through gritted teeth, "then someones getting hurt." 

"PULL!" Daniel shouted.

I turned and threw the can of teargas above us. Daniel raised his gun.

Bang!

With a single shot, the canister burst releasing a cloud of noxious gas overhead. The bikers ducked in surprise. Several were too slow and took faces full of pepper, and still others were hit by shrapnel from the canister. In the chaos, we broke out of the circle and split up. The fight was on.

Time to put in work. 

I dove behind the nearest man, swept his legs out from under him, and followed him to the floor landing two quick blows to his face and knocking him unconscious.

I was back on my feet as a whale of a man charged me from across the room. Side-stepping him, I took out his knees with Daniel's baton. He screamed as his legs buckled until I silenced him with a roundhouse kick to the head.

Several rounds cracked off and I barely registered bodies dropping in the area I knew Daniel was fighting, but I was too preoccupied to look closer. 

The gang was already starting to recover from our diversion, as two of them triangulated on me at once. I put a table between us, forcing them to split up and come around.

One of them closed the distance and landed a hook to my side, his brass knuckles knocking the wind out of me. Gasping for air, I moved just in time to avoid a body slam from the other guy. I spun around and cracked him in the face with my stick, but Knuckles had stepped up again and laid into me from behind. I fell over the table, trying to catch my breath, my back searing in pain. The two goons grabbed me and pinned me down to the table, knocking the baton from my hands.

As they pressed my head against the surface, I looked up and saw two others holding Daniel between them. He struggled to break free as Jeb ran up slammed a bowie knife into his stomach. Daniel's eyes widened in shock and fear. They let him go, and he slumpped to the floor. 

"NO!"

Not again. Not another partner. I thought of Daniel's wife, of his kids...

I shouted like a wild beast in a frenzy, screaming incoherently as another of the bikers stalked towards me holding up a switchblade. My eyes were fixed on Daniel's body, discarded on the floor while the two holding me, picked me up, one of them grabbing my hair and holding my head in place as I thrashed about. The knife-wielding biker cackled as he grabbed my chin.

"How about we take off them lips boy," he said. 

I screamed defiantly, straining against the men as they leaned closer,

bracing myself for what was about to happen.

BOOM!

A shotgun blast rang out, and the man with the knife flew backward. The other two flinched and their grips slackened. I pulled away, pivoted, decked one across the side of the head, then threw an uppercut and knocked the teeth out of the other. I backed away from my attackers and looked wildly about for the shooter. 

There, standing in the entrance where doors had been kicked off their hinges, were two trenchcoated, armed men whom I knew very well. My former superior, Lieutenant Finnick armed with a 12 gauge shotgun, his usual cigarette between his lips, and Sergeant Bullings wielding an M4 rifle, both stood with weapons raised, watching the remaining bikers scramble to the furthest wall from them.

"Howdy boys," Finnick said casually to the crowd. "Sorry to interrupt your soiree here. I just need to collect a few folk and I'll be on my way." 

I heard Daniel cough, "Lieutenant Finnick," he wheezed from the floor.

My heart nearly stopped. He was alive. I ran across the room, grabbed the back of his uniform, and body-dragged him across the floor until we were level with Finnick. Daniel pushed himself up to sit, holding his stomach and taking ragged breaths. 

"Officer Acker," Finnick said, nodding his head at Daniel without taking his eyes off the gang, "kindly tell me why you're here."

Daniel raised a shaky hand and pointed at Zacharia, standing huddled with his remaining men, "warrant arrest sir," he said. 

Finnick didn't hesitate. He just leveled his shotgun towards Zacharia. "Well that's dandy," Finnich said, smirking through his cigarette smoke. "You heard the Officer," he said to Zacharia, "you're under arrest boy. Let's go." 

One of the bikers stepped in front of Zacharia, "like hell he is-"

 Boom! The Shotgun rang out, and another biker fell.

Zacharia and the rest watched their companion fall, then lifted wary eyes back to Finnick.

"Sorry?" Finnick said to the fallen man, "Didn't catch that?" his gaze crept back up at Zacharia and he glared. 

"I don't like repeating myself, son..." He racked the shotgun again. 

Slowly the gang of men all raised their hands and Zacharia stepped forward. Sergeant Bullings escorted him out at gunpoint. I got under Daniel's arm and lifted him up, following Bullings out. Finnick walked backward out of the bar covering our exit.

"Appreciate the cooperation," he said to the remaining bikers as we walked out the door.

Once outside, I carried Daniel to my car and leaned him against the hood. Hurriedly I yanked off his shirt to check his injuries. Pulling the uniform away, I found his bulletproof vest, slashed open revealing a hard trauma plate underneath. I pulled his vest off and swept over his torso looking for blood. There was nothing, the knife didn't go through the plate, he was ok.

Relief swept over me, and all the adrenaline that had been pumping through my veins drained away leaving me exhausted. I slumped up against the car next to Daniel and felt a manic giggle slip out.

Looking at him more closely I saw he had taken a hard hit to the head and a large lump was forming above his eye, accounting for his disorientation. He got his bell rung good, but he was going to live.

There was an old Crown Vic parked next to us and Bullings was loading Zacharia in the backseat.'

Finnick met us at my car and grabbed Daniel's shoulders, "you alright Acker?"

Daniel nodded, "I'll be fine sir," he said.

Finnick turned to me, "Take him somewhere safe Morgan, and text me when you get there. Bullings and I will book dipshit here." He reached into Daniel's pockets and pulled out his car keys, "I'll take the patrol car. Get going." 

"Sir," I stopped him, "where the hell is everyone? Daniel called for code three cover!"

Finnicks eyes hardened, "No one else is coming John... Go. Now. We'll talk later."

With that, he walked around to Daniel's patrol car and got in. He and Bullings pulled out of the parking lot and departed without another word.

Daniel and I climbed into my car as quickly as we could. He laid the seat back, rubbing the lump on his head as I pulled out of the lot and drove towards the freeway. 

My head was spinning... First I hear children are disappearing all over town. And now Bikers' are running rampant, and cops are hanging their own out to dry? What the hell was wrong with my city?