“Glad you brought that up. Lieutenant Sparks has spoken with the HPF Commissioner and they’ll be granting us temporary access to the files. It’ll take a few days while they gripe about it, but we should have it soon. I’ll have Intel notify Cael and Rosa as soon as we know something.”
A strange low alarm resonated through the room, giving Dex a start. “What is that?”
“Shit.” Sloane was immediately on his feet along with the rest of the team. A wide red bar with flashing white letters scrolled across all the screens: Alert! DB Hector Ortiz HHMA. Requesting OS: Unit Alpha—Destructive Delta: DDME, DDRA, DDDA.
Dex read through all the abbreviations, recalling them from his training mat
erial, the first half of which he was familiar with since the HPF used the same codes. Dead body, Hector Ortiz, Human, Hispanic, Male, Adult. The rest were THIRDS specific codes, the “DD” in front pertained to his team: Destructive Delta, the ME: Medical Examiners, the RA: Recon Agents, and the DA: Defense Agents. Fuck, another homicide. Looks like they were being called in to backup Recon, which meant this was a bad one.
“Okay, team, let’s roll out. Everyone knows what to do. Letty, give Dex a brief rundown of his gear downstairs. Aside from the modified tranq guns, it won’t be anything he hasn’t handled before. Dex, you stick close to your partner, got it?”
“Yes, sir.” Dex gave a curt nod, falling into line behind Sloane as the team left the briefing room in a neat little row like a military drill. The few agents who were around the department stayed out of their way, and ahead of them a receptionist waited by the glass doors. When the team neared, the receptionist accessed the panel, the doors swishing open. They soon reached the elevators and Tony pressed his palm to the screen. In no time, they were all heading to the sub-basement where the armory and garage were located.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, everyone headed out. The armory was as extensive as he’d expected with wall-to-wall secured metal cages and lockers. Letty quickly showed him to one wall of cages, the sign fixed above it read: Destructive Delta. She stopped beside Sloane who already had his locker open and was slipping into his tactical vest.
“This one’s yours. A lot of this is standard issue with a few new toys.”
Dex put his hand to the screen situated where a lock would normally be and the cage went click. She pointed down at the large shield carefully propped up to one side.
“That’s your level IIIA ballistic shield with high-intensity dual lighting system including strobe capability.” She grabbed a vest and held it up to him. “Your level IIIA tac vest with side protection, front opening system for easy on/off, front pocket with pull-down groin protection—”
Dex opened his mouth and Letty cut him off. “If you make any dick jokes I will blow yours off.”
“Got it.”
“It’s also got a retractable ballistic nape, ballistic throat and shoulder protection with integrated collar system. This sucker is heavy as balls before you add all your shit to it, so have fun with that.” She shoved it at Dex and pointed to one of the shelves. “Those are your level IV armored plates, and that there is your ballistic helmet with retractable visor.”
Dex nodded as he strapped himself into his vest, leaving the throat and nape protection unfastened for the time being, and Letty started quickly handing him attachments.
“Gloves are flame resistant, cut resistant, and thermal resistant, with removable molded knuckle protection. Taser, which I will use on you if you break any of this shit. Zip ties.” She kept handing him things and he tried his best to keep up, finding pockets, hooks, and places for everything. As soon as each piece was tucked somewhere, she shoved a black backpack at him. Unfastening the Velcro flap at the front, she swept her hand across the various tools a la Vanna White.
“Hooligan Kit includes bolt cutters, Thundermaul and breacher. Det cord for blowing shit up, sledgehammer, ax, crowbar. In the BearCat, we’ve got a battering ram for breaching—performed by the rookie, i.e. you. Chains and hooks for burglar bars.” She then unfastened the straps at the top and opened it for him. “Inside you have your nonlethals—flashbangs, smoke bombs, pepper spray canisters, stinger grenades, and tear gas. In the BearCat you’ll find beanbag rounds shotguns and 40mm grenade launchers.” With an evil grin, she handed him the backpack and he slipped into it, attaching the straps in their appropriate places. Then he noticed the straps with clips on his shoulders.
“Crap.” He’d been so busy working out where all his accessories went, he forgot all about the key pieces of his equipment. The guns.
“Okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we get to the hardcore stuff.” She swatted the side of his thigh and he gave a jump, his eyes widening at her evil grin. “You’ve already got your Glock 17. Now behind me is your Remington 870 12 gauge, your double-aught buck with steel bearings, MP5 submachine gun, the AR15—your primary entry weapon, and this baby here….” She grabbed one of the rifles and handed it to him. “It looks like your AR15, but it’s actually your new best friend—a modified tranq gun. The tranqs in this use a combination of ketamine and xylazine. The BearCat is equipped with M99 and M5050 tranquilizers, but only Rosa handles that shit. She’ll be giving you a step-by-step on how to use it properly without killing yourself dead.”
Sounded like something he would say. He liked her already. Dex clipped the tranq rifle to his vest straps. “You scare me.”
“Good.” She gave him a smack on his ass as she walked off. Letty was small, barely reaching his shoulders, but he had no doubts she could kick some serious ass. She’d have to, being in Unit Alpha. It couldn’t be easy for her and Rosa with all the testosterone flying around, a hefty portion of it coming from Ash alone. Yet she had a sweet smile and very soft features. If Dex had seen her walking down the street in civilian attire, he never would have guessed she packed enough heat to take on a small army.
By the time Dex was finished strapping everything into place, he felt winded. He’d completed the THIRDS training while wearing the same equipment, but a good deal of what got him through it was knowing that once he got to the other side, he wouldn’t have to worry about it again. But this was it. Every time that screen flashed, he’d be going out to face Therians in their most dangerous form. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his helmet and nearly jumped out of his skin when he received a firm pat on the shoulder.
“No time for daydreams, Rookie. Move your ass.” Sloane gave him a gentle shove forward and Dex bit his tongue. Now would not be a good time to tell his partner to go screw himself. He slammed the cage door shut, the lock clicking into place. Sloane brushed past him and Dex hastily put his helmet on—visor up—and fastened the chinstrap before putting on his gloves. He held onto his rifle and followed Sloane along with the rest of the team out of the armory.
The THIRDS tactical vehicles were parked in the HQ garage attached to the rear of the building and accessed through a short tunnel. There was no time for Dex to browse the pretty black service cars, one of which he would be riding in with Sloane when they weren’t in the BearCat. The team didn’t stop until it reached a massive armored truck, and Dex couldn’t help but gaze at it in awe.
It was shiny and black with large white letters on the sides displaying THIRDS and below in smaller letters NYC Unit Alpha. It was much longer in length than the typical ballistic vehicle, and on the outside, it was equipped with the works. It had blue lights on the roof and on the winch at the front. On the side, two narrow ballistic glass panels up high, three gun ports beneath the panels and an additional gun port on the passenger side door. The roof contained a rotating hatch, a CS gas deployment nozzle, and a Common Remotely Operated Weapons Station program with a mounted M240 machine gun that Dex hoped they didn’t need to use.
Hobbs ran around to the driver’s side while Calvin climbed into the passenger side. The rest of the team stood to one side behind the vehicle as Calvin opened the back doors. Dex followed the rest of his team inside, taking in everything around him.
It was unlike any armored vehicle Dex had ever seen. Along one side were cages filled with an armory of weapons, locked cabinets and drawers. Across from the cages was a long black bench with straps and beside it, a small wall of surveillance equipment, including a sleek console, chair, several touchscreens, slim computer keyboard, and plenty of glowing, flashing buttons he would be sure to stay away from. Toward the front of the truck was a medical station that resembled the inside of an ambulance, including a defibrillator, syringe driver, suction unit, ventilator, immobilization equipment, and a stretcher. There were refrigerated units, more locked cabinets, and a small restroom. Toward the rear of the truck, there was a wide-open rectangular space, and Dex note
d the grooves and panels tucked into the floor. Those panels came up if they had a Therian who refused to shift back to his or her Human form. The idea disturbed him. How did his Therian teammates feel about sticking their own kind in a big iron cage?
Above the cage, stretching across the width of the truck, was another groove with a looped strap sticking out of each end. It appeared to be some kind of pull down screen, and Dex realized it was for privacy. It had completely slipped his
mind that his teammates would most likely shift inside the truck and seeing as how they had to get naked to do it, it made sense there would be some designated space for them to do it in.