BULLET-CITY

Nitro-Part 1

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"When executing any hostage rescue, planning is crucial. People need to be where they are supposed to be and do what they are supposed to do. That said, there is nothing worse than a rogue agent. When one link of the chain breaks, the rest is soon to follow — people forget what they needed to do, become confused, and make rash decisions. Aside from running solely on luck, the mission inevitably goes two ways: down in flames, or blown sky high."

#

          Sirens pierced the air as a group of ten squad cars pulled up to the Bank of the Bay: Credit Union. The afternoon sun glared off the officers' sunglasses as they emptied out of their vehicles and aimed their guns toward the building.
A woman with short blonde hair pulled up to the scene. Her driver, a short, stout man with a thinning comb-over, swiftly opened the door. The tall woman slid out of the seat fixing her grey skirt suit as she stood.
          The man followed her as she immediately walked beside an officer holding a phone in one hand and a microphone in the other.
          "Lieutenant Dans, what's the situation?" said the tall woman, taking off her sunglasses.
          "They want one million dollars in cash and a personal jet plane, Chief," replied the lieutenant.
          "How many hostages?"
          "Fifty-two that we know of. Apparently the nutcase inside has the place rigged with C-4 connected to laser trip wires. We can't even get close to the building without setting them off."
          The chief looked up toward the building and let out a sigh. Her driver came up beside her, proffering a cell phone.
          "I don't have time for that right now, Diego. Take a message."
          Diego hesitated for a moment, "That's just it, Chief. It's Vince Kato. He's calling from inside the building. I think Frank is with him too."
          The chief's jaw tightened, and she grabbed the phone from Diego's hand.
          "Detective Kato! What do you think you're doing?!"
          "(...)"
          "What?! Wait. Slow down!"
          Silence.
          "Detective Kato, are you still there?"

#

          Detective Vince Kato's well-worn white Reebox high-top sneakers padded against the cement fire escape stairs as he made his way to the crime scene above. He slid his M1911A pistol and his tactical knife from their holsters on the back of his blue jeans and glanced at his 1980s square digital watch.
          "Hey Franklin, you comin' or what?" Vince turned behind him to spot his partner.
          "Remind me not to wear my good brown leather jacket next time you want to crash Diego's party off duty," complained an out-of-breath Frank Norvak.
          Vince untwisted one of his crooked suspenders, "dress for success is what I always say. On a lighter note, only one more flight, buddy, and then—"
          "And then what?" replied Frank, rather annoyed. Vince smirked. "Then we crawl."
          "Oh no, not the air ducts again. The last time we did that, I had allergies for a week. It was the worst."
          "Aw, man, do it for the poor people inside. Plus, if the person behind this is who I think it is, then he's
too dumb to seal off the vents."

#

   .
          Vince slowly broke the seals off the vent opening and did a reverse pull-up, letting himself slowly down to the ground. He pulled his gun from his waistband holster and crouched down. Frank followed suit and went to move a little away from Vince, but Vince signaled him to stop. He pointed to the ground, where a small tan device lay semi- camouflaged.
          A small red light flickered on and off like the LED on a sleeping computer. Frank's mouth opened wide. He knew exactly what it was and he had almost fallen for it. Frank looked around only to notice several other strategically placed devices around the room. It was a trigger, a beam to detect intruders. However, once broken, this beam would most likely blow the place sky high. A nearby granite hallway opened up into a spacious room with an open window at the end. A large golden chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling bearing thousands of crystal shards. Red plush carpets covered the ground smoothing flawlessly up to white granite walls.
          This was not a place for just anyone. Clearly, this was a bank for high-class people.
          Footsteps echoing down the hallway broke Vinces' thoughts. He crouched low and put his back up against the wall. The footsteps' owner came into view. It was one of the self-serving lackeys. The man was holding a submachine gun and talking softly himself.
          Vince looked over at Frank, who was also crouched against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Vince gave him a signal with his eyes: drop him.
          Frank shook his head. Wrong position. Vince readied his knife and crept toward the man until he was about a foot away from his calves. Vince rose up and with one quick motion he covered the lackeys' mouth, kicked out his feet from under him and hovered the knife just over his adam's apple.
          "I'm not gonna hurt you unless you try something stupid," Vince whispered. "I need you to tell me how many sensors your idiot boss planted this time and where they are."
          Vince slowly let his hand off the man's mouth.
          "Four," the lackey managed to squeak out. "Two in this room and two in the room with the prisoners." Vince moved his knife closer to the man's skin. "And?"
          "Okay, okay. There's one more on each end of the hallway and two blocking the window exits in the main room."
          "How many prisoners?"
          "S-six, the boss wanted the police to think there were more so we could up the ransom." Vince looked at Frank and winked.
          "Looks like you need to pay up, buddy. I told you there were less than ten prisoners."
          Frank rolled his eyes. Vince turned back to the guard. "How do I deactivate them?"
          "You can't. The boss has to disable them himself." The thug's speech was beginning to slur from the tight grip Vince had on his throat.
          Vince thought for a moment. "Okay, time for a nap." With that, Vince squeezed the man's neck, cutting off blood flow until the thug went limp. Frank ran over and helped Vince drag the man out of sight.
          "So what do we do now? We can't get through." Frank furrowed his eyebrows toward Vince.