Posted Aug. 5, 2019, 6:53 p.m. by Ensign Samantha Keene (Engineering Officer (Supplies and Procurement Officer)) (Ffion Grace)
Posted by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Tactical Officer) in Nash and Keene: Bay City PD Ep1
Posted by Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in Nash and Keene: Bay City PD Ep1
Posted by Ensign Samantha Keene (Engineering Officer (Supplies and Procurement Officer)) in Nash and Keene: Bay City PD Ep1
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The warehouse was cold as Nash moved quietly between piles of crates stacked to form aisles with narrow walkways. Outside in the dark of the night a thick fog mostly obscured the docks from view, and muffled the sound of the water lapping against the cement. It didn’t muffle the sound of men’s voices from near the main entrance to the warehouse, nor dim the bright light inside pointed at the loading platform running up the ship docked next to the warehouse.Dressed against the cold with his long dark leather jacket buttoned up high covering his suit and tie, the high neck of the coat covering the back of his neck, Nash slowly made his way closer to the front of the stacked crates where he could get a good view of the men loading the ship from the trucks parked just inside the door. Coming closer to the end of the line of boxes he took the stub of the cigar out of his mouth and put it out against the wood. Bright though the light was ahead, it was dark where he was and the glow of the cigar could give him away.
Opening his coat he slipped his hand inside, placing the cigar stub safely in his inside pocket and then sliding his hand further, to his armpit where his fingers closed around the reassuring wooden grip of his favourite friend, an old Webley .455 revolver that looked like it had seen better days, but never let him down when he needed it. Pulling the gun from his coat he looked down at the weapon nestled comfortably in his gloved hand and felt the weight of it. He inched around the last box and saw what he was expecting, a dozen men of Maloneys gang loading crates onto the ship with a forklift, and Maloney himself in his white suit standing on the railing above the main doors, next to the entrance to his office. His eyes followed the men and the warehouse left and right as far as he could make out and he inched back behind the boxes and waited.
“Where the hell is Keene?” He muttered. They had split up at the back entrance to find their way forward and cover both of the available entrances. Since then, he hadn’t seen or heard from his ‘partner’ and that worried him more than he cared to admit.
Detective Ethan Nash, Bay City PD
Keene moved stealthy along the boxed filled alleyway, the metallic glint of her Colt .45 seeming huge in her petite hand as she trained it into every shadow. She slinked through the low lying fog, until she found what she had been looking for since she and Nash had spilt up
Tucking her gun into the waistband in the small of her back, she grasped the slick metal of the drain pipe and started to climb. Hand over hand she shimmied up the pipe until…
CRACK! BANG!
She froze, her heart racing, had she been spotted? Cautiously she raised her head to glance around. The good news was that no-one seemed to be shooting at her. The bad news was that the loud metallic noise had been one of the rusty bolts holding the drain pipe to the wall giving up the ghost, leaving the pipe canted over at a strange angle, the remaining bolts creaking ominously as she hung above the mist shrouded alley way several stories below.
Taking stock of her predicament, Keene noticed a small bricked up window to her right, the ledge still protruding. She reached out with the toe of her right boot, inching it painfully slowly across the brickwork.
CREEEEEAAAAAKKKK!
She froze again, the pipe now swaying further as she moved her weight to the right, the bolts shedding decades of rust. Gathering herself, she made a desperate leap for the ledge, fingers scrabbling on the bricks as she started to slide before desperately clinging to the concrete sill as she fell past.
She hung their momentarily, legs dangling above the abyss, she paused to consider whether this really had been such a good idea after all. She began to swing herself, pendulum style, gradually picking up momentum, until she was able to hook her knee up on to the ledge and haul herself on to its narrow comfort. She could see the outline of the roof guttering just above and with a tendon jangling leap was able to catch hold of the rim with her fingertips and pull herself up, finding a small pipe protruding from the roof to use as a handy handhold, she eventually lay on her back on the roof, gasping with the effort.
Dusting herself down and drawing her gun, she moved off again, stepping sure footedly along the ridge off the roof tiles until she found what she was up her for. Using her hand she swept several years’ worth of dirt and dead flies away from the skylight until she could see clearly inside. Spotting no movement she carefully slipped off her black leather biker jacket and wrapped it around her fist before punching out the small pane of glass nearest to the lock handle. She reached carefully inside and flipped the catch, opening the window just wide enough for her to slip through and into the building.
She landed catlike atop one of the large stacks of crates that formed natural walkways within the warehouse. Making her way towards the light and activity she could see by the main loading dock. Making her way towards the light and activity she could see by the main loading dock, she moved along the row, jumping lightly from stack to stack.
Detective Sam Keene, Bay City PD
OCC: I want more. :) Erase this when you start to post but post. It’s a great story guys. ~ Kate
The loud cracking noise hadn’t exactly been unnoticed by the people inside the warehouse, and Nash watched helplessly as two of Maloney’s men broke off from the group and headed in his direction, which happened to be in between the group and the noise from outside. “Oh Wonderful,” he muttered under his breath, “goons.” Nash sighed and stepped back further into the darkness of the crates and waited.
It took only a minute for the men to walk past him but one paused, sniffing the air around him and smelling something that shouldn’t have been there. Nash furrowed his eyebrows as he wondered what the man could be doing, and then swore to himself as he watched the second one walk to where he had put out the cigar against the wood and keep sniffing while the first walked.
He stepped forward quickly, and thumped the man on the back of the head with the butt of his Webley, then swung around to face the first man who was now a distance away but had spun and the sound of his comrade slumping to the floor with a grunt. Instead of his friend, he faced a large, solid and grumpy looking man with a long leather jacket, patched in too many places and gloves. The high neck of his jacket almost met the brim of his Fedora that was pulled down low over his brow, so that his cold and hard eyes stare straight into the man with little room to move. The thug saw instantly that the man in the jacket and hat had an old, worn revolver pointing straight at him while his own weapon, a clean lined automatic pistol, was still pointing in completely the wrong direction.
“In situations like this,” Nash said in his gruff, stoney tone to the henchman, “you have one question to ask yourself. Do you call out for help, or do you put your weapon down and surrender quietly? Do you feel lucky, punk? Well, do you?”
Detective Ethan Nash, Bay City PD
A dark silhouette dropped silently behind the goon. There was brief flash of gunmetal and the figure dropped to the floor like a tree felled by an over enthusiastic lumberjack.
“Sorry Old Man, but that guy kinda looked like the indecisive type and we ain’t got all night, so quit playing with the small fry and let’s go reel us in the real catch of the day eh?”
The shadowy figure stepped into the moonlight, revealing Nash’s partner, Detective Sam Keene, dressed in her favoured denim jeans and leather biker jacket that looked even worse for wear than usual, the cold grey metal of her colt .45 held low but ready.
Sam leaned in conspiratorially “And quit with the corny movie quotes will ya Nash? I’m trying to stay in character here and it’s pretty difficult if ya’ll give me the giggles every time ya’ll open ya mouth.” She whispered.
Detective Sam Keene - Bay City PD
© 1991-2024 STF. Terms of Service
Version 1.15.11
RSS Feed