We walked inside – and a cop at the front desk called us over.  “You the four we got from the MRT today?  The newbies?”

 

                “Yes, sir.”  I replied.  “Guardian, Sabertooth, Impulse and Lady Arcane.”  I said, indicating myself, Mike, Cliff and Krissie.

 

                “Well then… Go on in.” He replied, giving us a slip of paper with the number of a briefing room on it. “The others will be there soon.”

 

                A few moments later we found the briefing room and settled down to wait.  The mood from the other police officers in the room was decidedly unhappy and grim.  A few minutes later, an overweight officer in a blue uniform, with sergeant’s stripes came up to a podium and called the briefing to order.

 

                “Hello everyone.  Today’s briefing is pretty simple.” He began, clicking a button and flashing an image of Trash Panda and Rhino onto the projector beside him.  “These criminals – Trash Panda and Rhino - are still at large, after putting four of our men in the hospital and one of them in the morgue.  Our ONLY job is to hunt these a-holes down and bring them to justice, until further notice… Is that understood?”

 

                There were a chorus of “Yes, Sirs!” and the mood darkened again, considerably.  The police were obviously angry at the damage inflicted upon them, and some even looked eager for blood.

 

                “The suspects were last seen in the area of Eglinton East and Dorset Park in Scarborough.  If you find them, call for backup.  Today we have four of the new MRT members with us – we may need them, so don’t be afraid to call for them.” 

 

                A bunch of heads turned to see us – and many looked pleased to see us, but some – a larger than expected number – looked annoyed or even outright pissed off to see us. 

 

                The sergeant took control of the briefing again, and got everyone’s attention.  “Listen up!  I know some of you aren’t too keen on the newbies.  Swallow that down, and let’s get these cop-killing murderers off the streets.  Some of you already know Guardian, and Sabertooth.  Who are your other friends, folks?”

 

                I motioned for Kim and Cliff to stand up.  “This is Lady Arcane, and this big guy is Impulse.  I promise you, they’re both badass when it counts.”

 

                Everyone nodded, but at least three people snorted, muttering “as if!”  Still, it looked like Lady Arcane and Impulse didn’t let it get them down.

 

                “These are our MRT guys for the day – if you see Trash Panda and Rhino, don’t be afraid to call for their backup.  We don’t want any more funerals, people.  Speaking of which, the funeral for Officer McGilvray will be Friday.  Full dress uniform.  Attendance is mandatory.  That’s all folks.  Stay safe out there.  Dismissed.”

 

Four officers approached us – three men, and one woman.  They looked middle aged – somewhere in that nebulous area between their early thirties and late forties – and you could tell they had a lot of experience and street smarts.  I felt relieved to see that, actually – it meant we would learn from the old timers who knew what’s what, and not get stuck with rookies who didn’t know what to teach us.

 

“Hey, folks.  I’m Harmon Davis, and this is Weston Brooke, Claude Fortier, and Simone Declan.  We’re your partners today, and we’ll be showing you the ropes.  We’ve got our partners getting the vehicles brought around, so if you could form up on us, we’ll take you to the garage, so load up and move out.”

 

We gathered what few things we had with us, and followed Officer Davis and the others.  A short walk took us to the garage of the precinct, where another four officers were waiting by a number of Metro Toronto Police cars – white cars marked with a red and white flaring stripe. I snorted a moment as I realized Canadian police cars were decorated in red, white and blue.  So sue me!  I thought it was amusing.

 

“Guardian, you’re with me.”  Officer Davis called out.  “Sabertooth, you’re with Brooke.  Lady Arcane with Fortier, and Impulse with Declan.”

 

We nodded, and headed to our respective cars.  “Good luck!” I wished the others, who nodded in reply – although Krissie gave me a “Good luck to you too!”   I got in the back of the police car, as Davis and his partner got buckled up. 

 

 “Guardian, this is my partner, Officer Kyle Hoult.”  Davis remarked.

 

“Hey.  Nice to meet you, Kyle.” 

 

“Call me Hoult.”

 

“You got it, Hoult.”  I replied.

 

“So are you people on the MRT as hot shit as everyone upstairs says you are?”  He asked.

 

“Um…  I don’t know if we’re hot shit.  We have superpowers and can stand up to people like Trash Panda and Rhino, and do a bunch of amazing things – but most of us don’t know anything about what it takes to be a police officer.  I’m here to learn, not to act like an asshole.”

 

“Huh…  Maybe we’ll be able to make you into something like a cop.  Eventually.”  Hoult replied.

 

“At least the kid knows enough to know she doesn’t know anything.  I was worried you were going to try and tell us how to do our jobs, Guardian.”  Davis pulled out of the garage an onto the streets of Toronto.  Traffic was busy – as usual – and we started cruising towards Dorset Park.

 

“The first rule of being a cop,”  Hoult replied, “…is if in doubt, do nothing.  If you don’t know what to do, do nothing.  It at least keeps you from making a bad situation worse.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Second, the O.P.P. and the Mounties – they’re pretty boys who don’t do much.  The cops who are actually on the street, like us, are in with the ruff and scruff.  The wife beaters, the mobs, the gangs, and worse.  Sex, Money and Violence is the cause of everything, and it makes ordinary people into mindless savages.”

 

“Is it really that bad?”  I asked, not knowing.

 

“Yes.  In some cases, it’s worse.  The worst are domestic disputes.  We joke about it, but sometimes the only way to solve a domestic dispute is to shoot them both.  Domestic calls are the most deadly and violent.  Nobody knows how to push buttons like family.  Watch what we do, and don’t be stupid.”

 

I realized Hoult was serious, and I was in for a bit of a rude awakening today.  It made Toronto sound like a cesspit of violence and murder – was it really this bad, or did most people just never see it?  I started to wonder.

 

“Hey Guardian?”  Davis asked, interrupting my reverie.  “What kind of powers do you have?  Is it true you’re basically Superman – I mean Supergirl?”

 

“As far as I can tell, yeah.  Super strength, speed, toughness, and telescopic senses, heat vision and flight.  All that stuff.”

 

“You bulletproof?”  Hoult asked.

 

“As far as I know, yeah.”

 

“That’s good.  At least we won’t have to worry about scraping you up if you get hit in a fight.” 

 

I didn’t know if I should be insulted or pleased that Hoult sounded sort of relieved.

 

We drove in silence for a few minutes, and then Davis changed the topic once more…  He started telling me which neighborhood we were driving through – and which gang ruled the area, which mobs they owed allegiance to, who was a good contact and source of information and so on.  Each time we drove through a new area, new information was brought forth – and soon Hoult joined in with what he knew as well.  By the time we reached Dorset Park, my head was swimming with information.

 

What followed next, seemed to me, like a montage of ever police show I’d ever seen on television.  We would go from place to place, to find contacts – and then Davis and Hoult would go have a chat with the contact – and try to find out if anyone knew anything about our targets.  Some of them required a little pressure to talk – in fact some of the tactics the two officers used made me a little uncomfortable, but I cut them some slack in my mind because we were going after two cop-killers.   You know that legend about the thin blue line, and how cops protect each other against anyone who isn’t a cop?  Yeah – that isn’t a myth. 

 

This went on for most of the morning, leading us on goose chase to goose chase, from Dorset park to Bendale to Morningside until around 11:30 – when one of Hoult’s contacts had some information that seemed legit.  Apparently, he had heard a rumor that our perps were holed up in a residence near Conlins Road and Chartway Blvd. 

 

“We should check it out, then radio for backup.”  Hoult said.

 

“Yeah.  Guardian, if we drive say within a block of the area, would you be able to see or hear them?”  Davis asked.  “You know, to confirm they’re in the area or not?”

 

“Yeah, totally.  I’ve met them before.  If they’re anywhere in the area, I’ll see them.”  I would too, I thought.  It might have been faster if I’d been flying around with my X-Ray Vision.  We just have capabilities the police have no idea how to utilize.  “You know, guys.  If you want, I can fly over there, scan the area, and report back.”

 

The two police officers looked uneasy, but finally Davis nodded.  “Go to it – just do not engage.  Come back and tell us, and we’ll call in backup.”

 

“You got it.”

 

We pulled over, and I got out of the car.  “Be back in ten.”  I said, and lifted off – much to the amazement of some of the nearby people on the street. 

 

“Is this a good idea?”  Davis asked.

 

“No, not really.”  Hoult looked unsure himself.  “We shouldn’t let a rookie in the line of fire, even if she is bulletproof.”

 

“It’ll work.”  Davis replied, almost as if trying to convince himself.

 

“Yeah.  What could go wrong?”

 

“Hoult?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You’re an asshole sometimes.” Davis joked.

 

*              *              *

 

 

 I flew up and away from our police cruiser and towards Highland Creek,  It felt good to be out of the police car and back in the air!  I got to a decent altitude (maybe a thousand feet) and started scanning the area.  It didn’t take long… I found them in a civilian home on Chartway Blvd.  Rhino was sitting in a destroyed couch in the basement, watching a flatscreen TV, and Trash Panda – or Rocket Racoon – or whatever he wanted to be called, was sitting at a table with a woman in her forties.  Trash Panda had some bandages on his leg and arm that had obviously seeped some blood, but otherwise looked fine.  The woman, I guessed, was either a friend or a relative of his.  She looked scared, a bit, of the anthropomorphic raccoon in front of her.

 

I focused my hearing, and hovered directly above them, dropping a bit in altitude to hear a bit better. 

 

“Jimmy, you need to turn yourself in.  You hurt those policemen!”  The woman said.

 

“It’s Rocket, ma, and I can’t!  I think I really hurt one of them – the cops will kill me, not take me in.  Besides, those assholes had it coming, hassling me and Rhino all the time.  Now look who’s being the big man?”

 

“But you’re hurting people, Jimmy!”

 

“Ma, for the last time, it’s Rocket.  And so what if I hurt some people?  No one ever gave a shit when they hurt me before the Emergence!  No one ever stopped assholes from beating the shit outta me!  Now it’s their turn!”

 

I’d seen enough – Rocket / Trash Panda and Rhino were there.  There was a potential hostage.  I returned to the cruiser.

 

“712 Chartway Blvd, go!”  I said, climbing into the car.  “Both perps are there, along with one of their parents – a potential hostage.  Trash Panda looks wounded, and it sounds like they were arguing… We need to go.”

 

“On it.”  Davis gunned the engine, and we were off, while Hoult called it in.  Only one MRT unit was close enough to respond – Lady Arcane’s ride – and several other units were on alert and on their way. SWAT was called too. 

 

We pulled up several minutes later, about a block away from the house, and I could still hear Rocket / Trash Panda arguing with his mom.  “They’re still there.”

 

“Good – now wait for backup.”  Davis replied, checking his gear and getting ready for whatever would come.

 

                Meanwhile, I was frustrated and felt hamstrung.  I could have found them faster, with less effort.  And knowing the cops they were going to wait for SWAT, have them storm the place, get some of their men injured – and THEN maybe allow us to stop these guys.  I started to realize then, that embedding superhumans like the MRT with the police wouldn’t work.  It could never work.  The way we are best at operating would get them killed – and they way they operate would hamstring us to the point of why bother?  I wondered if the others were coming to similar conclusions, or if it was just me.

 

                We continued to wait.  Wait for the inevitable confrontation that was to come.  I didn’t think Rhino and Trash Panda or Rocket or Jimmy were going to come quietly.  This was going to get damn messy, damn quick.  I don’t think Davis or Hoult had ever seen or been near a super-brawl.  Oh crap. 

 

                Just then, three more police cruisers showed up, without sirens or lights – including Lady Arcane’s cruiser.  This was it… Showtime!