Battle in the Streets

Chapter 2

The two officers stepped forward into the dim warehouse with their firearms drawn. The old, musty building deteriorated as the city had. A couple broken windows let a slight breeze whistle through the warehouse. The two old forklifts were parked along the wall, had rusted out holes, and looked as if they would never start up again.

Brian scanned the seemingly lifeless warehouse with his gun. He didn't know what it was, but something about this was hinky. Most of the time during these situations, Brian would probably assume the alarm had misfunctioned again. Even though the last couple one hundred silent alarm break-in calls were malfunctions, anything could happen. Though this time he figured it was merely his uneasiness after hearing about the recent ambushes, he still remained cautious.

His heart pounded. It seemed like such a simple call-- breaking and entering a warehouse. It could be a teenage dare or an actual theft without any weapons involved. Even so, an image flashed his mind. A subject with a gun hiding amongst the boxes or crates, waiting for a responding police officer to ambush.

Andrews continued silently, watching where he stepped. He glanced over and around the crates. If he could see the intruder before he noticed him, that would be an advantage.

Footsteps echoed throughout the large warehouse. Brian stopped, his eyes widening. Those footsteps weren't his.

Brian swallowed the lump in his throat. He drew back when a light shone from around the corner of a shelf, revealing two figures. Brian could barely make out their echoing whispers.

Andrews glanced at Officer Daniels behind him, who pointed around the shelf. Brian nodded to confirm his plan. While he edged away from Brian, moving to a different location in the warehouse, Officer Andrews focused his attention back on the two voices.

"Don't you want to join? All you gotta do is swipe one of these big piles of metal and turn it in for scrap. What's the problem?" one said.

Then Brian heard another voice, this one sounding more worried, "I don't know. I've got this weird feeling... like someone's watching us."

Brian smirked. Not just one. Two are.

"You'll always get that feeling, but no one's here. Get used to it. Do it and get out of here."

The intruders stepped in a spotlight of the sun, streaming through the windows, which revealed their descriptions. Both were African American, wearing holey shirts and jeans. The younger had no visible tattoos, but the older had a few tattoos on his face and his arms were totally covered in them, a few he recognized as gang tattoos.

The metal pieces clanked together as they dropped each armful into the back of the truck. Andrews peeked through the spaces of the shelves, just enough to watch their feet. He thought, Poor kids. Most likely gang involved. They don't realize what kind of life they're getting themselves into.

When they approached him, Andrews backed up, causing his head to bump a cardboard box.

"Wait, who's there?" the older teen said, stopping and slowly taking steps backward.

Andrews and Daniels emerged from the shelf of boxes and yelled, "Police! Freeze!"

"Split!" Both raced to the truck, the older getting a slight head start.

Andrews grabbed the arm of the younger boy who was attempting to enter the truck, as the other sped away. He was able to glance at the license plate before a cloud of dust covered his view of it. It was easy to mix up the letters and numbers, so Brian whispered the combination as he handcuffed the teenager, "King. X-ray. David. 947. King. X-ray. David. 947."