“Hey, guys. What’s taking you so long? It’s hot in here.”

Beanie Brain adjusted the microphone on his LED headphones as he chewed on some gum. He curled up in the back of a van, gaming laptop open across his lap as he had a USB connected fan blowing ‘cool air’ into his face. The laptop screen was divided into two sides – the right side had a series of cameras that either looped some pre-recorded clips or showed the action going on inside the convention center. To the left was a MOBA game he kept glancing at, his fingers tapping at the keyboard to control his avatar down mid-lane.

[Relaaax.] Silver Tooth’s voice came on the headphones. Beanie Brain frowned and eyed one of the cameras, seeing the mercenary wave back. [Have confidence in yourself. Your little magic show is buying us a lot of time. So sit back, relax, and put on some music Bernie.]

“Beanie Brain, you dipsh––”

[Oh-hooo! You kiss your mama with that mouth?] Silver Tooth shook his head with a laugh – only to be slammed to the wall by Big Smoke.

Beanie Brain tensed up at the camera window, seeing his father seething as he said to his captive. [One, don’t talk about my wife. Two, you ever talk to my son like that again, I’ll make you eat your intestines like the breakfast special!]

Scorpion raced over, gripping onto his father. [Dad! Knock it off, he’s on our side!]

Big Smoke seethed, before letting Silver Tooth go. The latter adjusted his shirt, held up his gun...and holster it. Silver Tooth clapped his free hands together, a nod of apology. [Fair enough.] Big Smoke left him, Scorpion patting Silver Tooth on the arm as a sorry with the latter waving a calm and understand hand in response.

Beanie Brain relaxed and ended up rolling his eyes. He groaned, however, when his game screen read TEAM DEFEATED. “What the f–– You guys suck!...Huh?” Beanie Brain leaned closer to his screen “Oh sh––” Then the teen closed the game program so he could expand on some cameras on his screen. “Hey guys! Guys!”

[We’re almost done, Benjamin!] Big Smoke muttered back in his Blue Tooth. [Dad’s working. Stay off the line unless it’s important!]

“Uh, duuh! This IS important! The fuzz are here and––” All the cameras on his screen went static. He tried to type several commands, but the screen displayed ‘No Connection Available’. “Sh––They cut my feed. I can’t see anything. Get out, get out!”

[Huh. Didn’t expect them to get here so soon.] Silver Tooth hummed back on the radio. Beanie Brain could hear people scrambling around, shoving trays and metallic objects into bags as they zipped up. Silver Tooth then continued. [Lucky for us we have a Plan B, C, D, E, F, and G. So you sit tight right there son, we’ll be right out in three shakes of a lamb’s––Hey, Goldberg! You got any swinging paint cans!?]

.....

.....

Ding

Captain Ford walked out of the elevator and into the convention halls. As he adjusted his vest and checked the magazine in his gun, Sergeant King and Constable J.J. did the same and marched right after him. Along with several other officers in uniform and body armor.

As he entered the gathering space right outside of the target convention room, a flurry of SWAT troopers came around another corner from the stairwells. Two teams of 10 armed with M4 assault rifles with hybrid scopes and handles, flash bangs, Remington shotguns, and tactical shields.

“20-Echo, Sir.” One of the SWAT troopers called over to Captain Ford with a gesture. “Seven employee bodies in the back stairs, two under a table.”

“Then this is the right place.” Ford muttered as he turned to everyone. “The lieutenant is on the way with reinforcements, but the parade is murder right now. SWAT Team Echo, you take the lead. My team will support you. Breach when ready. We’re not gonna let these bastards walk out of here.”

“Roger.” The SWAT leader then waved his hand in methodical signals, his team taking positions. They all stacked up against the walls on both sides of the convention door. Several others knelt in front of it, placing breach charges. Once the door-kickers were set, they tucked to the side to get ready.

Captain Ford sucked in a deep breath and took cover behind some couches in the gathering space. Sergeant King, Constable J.J., and the other officers in uniform all took their positions pistols drawn. They flexed their fingers on the handles, aiming down the iron sights. Finger on the trigger.

Once everyone was ready, SWAT hit the trigger and blew the doors with a––

BOOM!
KA-BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!?!?!?!?!?

Just as SWAT blew in the conference door – the wall next to them exploded at the same time.

A concussive force drowned one team of SWAT troopers, burying them in flames, smoke, plaster, and debris. Many of their bodies were torn up into pieces no man or woman should ever see. Any others lucky enough to survive were throw onto their backs rolling in pain, some with an arm or leg missing.

“OH SH––!” Captain Ford’s face twisted, the shockwave of C4 blasting his lips and eyes like a wind tunnel. The energy of the blast swept all the couches, furniture, any cover that wasn’t bolted down in a mighty tsunami. It kicked into Ford and his team, sending them all flailing. Tall windows behind them shattered from the pressure, raining shards. Several screams flew out the window, fading down to the streets and stopped with a distant thump.

“Ggg!” Sergeant King was the first to wake up. His body covered in black soot, wooden shrapnel cutting into his hands. He pushed himself up, clenching his teeth. King noticed J.J.’s body slumped to the side, buried under some couches. He dragged his body over to toss them aside, patting her cheeks. “J.J.! Come on! Stay with me!”

“AGH!” J.J. coughed with a gasp, clutching her stomach. “Wh-what happened?”

“I-I don’t know––” Before King could finish, the sound of machine guns ripped through the smoke filled air and he ducked.

The hole in the wall light up, dots of red flashes blinking all over. One, two, three muzzles flares were barking in the thick smoke through the torn wall. Another three started firing through the doors SWAT breached through.

Pincer attack!?

They fired on anything that so much as crawled. Crippled officers, dazed troopers, even policemen who recovered in time to stand up only to fall back over. Although it didn’t take long for the officers to return fire in the melancholy, the bandits had too much of a head start.

Bang! Bang!

Sergeant King turned to the side at the sound of a pistol firing. He saw Captain Ford, covered head to waist in blood. With a dizzy face he tried to fire back a few rounds, but after his fifth shot he flopped over in a fainting heap. At the same time several wounded SWAT officers tried to roll out of the way, either getting sliced up by enemy gun fire or injured.

“J.J.!” King picked up an SWAT M4 rifle and tossed it to the constable. “Short controlled burst, follow my lead!”

“...SIR, YES SIR!”

“RALLY! RALLY!” Sergeant King called out to the survivors and ran over to pull out a tactical shield that was stabbed into a wall. He braced it against his bleeding arm, pulling the straps with a suppressed groan, and pushed up ahead!

The six bandits continued to open fired in front of them, cutting through the acrid smoke. King held onto the shield, blocking any bullets from hitting him and his partner. J.J. followed King in a crouch, both hands on her rifle, squeezing several rounds. The recoil of the gun smacked into her shoulder, her entire body shaking and throwing off her aim. She endured, gritting her teeth.

As they provided cover and supporting fire, SWAT troopers and officers who could still move helped to drag their wounded comrades out of the line of fire. As many as they could muster. Bit by bit, King and J.J. shielded them, making their way closer towards Captain Ford’s body.

King winced. The screen on his shield began to crack. Fissures started to form, growing with every hit from assault rifle fire. The sergeant fought back his urge to gulp and he gripped the handle with both hands to keep it steady. Just a bit more! Come on! YES!

“Cap! Caaap!” J.J. slung her rifle to the side and knelt next to Captain Ford. She picked him up, but his head slumped back as his eyes flickered in and out of consciousness. Her head flinched as several shots made holes in the columns and glass around her and she fired back. Click. Click. Click. “Sarge! I’m out!”

“Grab the captain!” King pulled out his pistol and fired while holding the shield. J.J. tossed her empty rifle to the side and slung Captain Ford over her shoulder in a fireman carry. With a groan, she ran him over to the safe zone while King followed with his shield.

Crack. Crack. CRASH!

Just as King’s shield shattered – a wall of shields covered him!

The surviving SWAT officers regained their momentum and pushed in formation. Torn up and bleeding, they pushed back, firing their rifles in between the gaps of their own tactic shields. Several rounds hit the bandits square in the chest, but not a single drop of blood fell out. Instead, holes ripped open and torn Kevlar filled the air like a splash of cotton. That was until one or two shots took a shoulder and a leg, making one fall over in agony.

Seeing the tide changing, the bandits grabbed their injured companion and started to dip back into the shadows. For safe measures, several of them tossed smoke grenades, filling up everyone’s vision.

As the SWAT team try to push on, three more grenades rolled out. The fragmentation kind.

RETREAT! RETREAT!

Everyone leapt back in time for a series of chain explosions in their faces. The force of their detonation cut a hole in the floor and caved in, forcing several men slipping through and falling down with violent smacks and bone breaking thuds.

Sergeant King gripped onto his captain and constable, looking up through his broken shield.

By the time the chaos cleared, the bandits were long gone.