The dark figure furthest on their left tore off his mask, revealing his face. It was a man. And as he settled at one spot and positioned his gun, the policemen recognised him. 

“The Hawk!” Taylor cried out, breaking his calm demeanour.

“Shit!” Devon rushed away from the window after observing the rifle. Putting his back against a pillar. The other four leapt behind various articles of furniture.

Steadying himself, Taylor stared straight at the gunmen. They really came all the way. Let them bring it on, then. Let them try.

“Hurry, man! Duck!” Devon cried. 

Taylor raised his eyebrows at him. What harm could they possibly deal to him? It was only Devon’s life he was worried about. And the rest of them.

The other two drew their weapons, pointing them at the window from where they were.

Trying his best to be calm, Taylor retrieved both his Glock pistol and Devon’s from their desks. He threw his partner’s one over to him. Devon caught it and quickly cocked it. 

Taylor strolled closer to the window, raising the pistol into the air. He cocked it and sneered at the adversaries opposite them. Devon leapt to the partition nearby, where his body would be shielded from a direct line of fire. He inched towards the window steadily. 

Both parties stayed still for several breaths.

“Tell the boss. We’re going to need some help,” Taylor commanded. Devon retreated from the windows and dashed down the corridor.

“Damn it. Why at our shift specifically?” Taylor muttered. “Why at this specific window?!”

The two figures made a sudden movement, raising their weapons. Taylor glared at them and readied himself to fire. The four did the same.

“Hold your fire,” Taylor instructed. “We don’t want to be the aggressors. Not yet.”

However, three of the assassins grew agitated and ran into the distance. Soon, the remaining one, the Hawk, also ducked behind the parapet and vanished from view. 

“They spotted us?” Devon exclaimed as he ran back, with his pistol still in hand.

“They left the rifle behind!” Taylor pointed at the parapet. “Don’t go beyond where I'm standing. They may still be intending to attack!”

A man rose up from behind the parapet. He quickly grabbed onto the rifle. They recognised him as well.

“That’s the guy we saved! Zachary something!” Jefferson exclaimed. “Screw him!”

“God damn him,” Williamson spat. “Does he not have any idea about repaying favours?”

“Do you know what you owe us, you filthy disloyal piece of shit? We got you out of jail and this is what we get?” Jefferson yelled.

“Hey, not so loud. The boss is coming,” Devon said. Taylor scoffed at this suggestion. It was a valid concern, but was he really afraid of the consequences of divulging their boss their secret agreement with a crooked politician? 

That man on the roof now clipped the rifle under his arm. As soon as Taylor turned his attention back to him, it was too late. He disappeared quickly on foot into the darkness of the night.

“God damn it. We lost them.” Taylor banged his desk. Devon recovered and gulped down his forgotten coffee. 

“So what Vance sent is true,” Jefferson said.

“But its not yet midnight.” Williamson stroked his chin. 

“Will they strike again?” Jefferson considered. “Was this simply a survey?”

“Did they miss their chance because we moved?” Williamson suggested.

“It’s possible that this isn’t the attack we’re waiting for. We have to crush them quickly,” Taylor said with finality, sighing sharply. “Before they make another move.”

Footsteps. “That was close. Too close,” the steady voice of their boss, the Assistant Superintendent of Police, Dave Barrett, came from behind them. He was a large, stout man with a pronounced nose bridge and a bushy moustache, granting him an instant air of dominance. 

“Team AB, mobilise immediately. Split into your sub-teams. Alpha will search the area for any remaining members of 1564. Beta will launch a raid on their base directly. Thereafter, Alpha will join as reinforcements.”

“The rest of Alpha is already downstairs,” Devon said. “I’ll join them.”

“Good,” Barret said. “We are going in to neutralise those bastards.”

*

“Hurry,” Cathartes urged, as Haliaeetus, Ectopistes and Zenaida scrambled with him down from the top of the old factory. 

He was optimistic that that had been enough to provoke the police. From their frantic actions in the headquarters, they were absolutely flabbergasted. A band of men, including the ace sniper and the leader of the mob visiting their personal place? This affront was way too bold. They had to take action. If not in fear, then in the name of pride. 

They scuttled down the dusty concrete stairs under the glaring white and orange lights of the dilapidated building, clutching the handrails firmly as they flung themselves down several flights of steps at once. 

At last, they landed on the street and made their way towards their vehicles. Ectopistes and Zenaida leapt into the Black Balsam SUV, which they had driven to the site. Cathartes and Haliaeetus entered the Black Balsam car. They had taken two vehicles just in case the police took action a little too swiftly and they had to escape in chaos.

“Oh dear,” Cathartes put his head in his hands as soon as he sat down, tapping the mask earphone on. “Chaos incoming at twelve o’ clock!” he shouted so those in the SUV could hear him.

A short distance before their vehicles, a flurry of red and blue lights cut through the mist of the night, piercing their eyes. There were two officers seated in the car. Cathartes recognised them from the photos. Inspector Sanders and Sergeant Smith. Somehow, the police already had a car ready. How did they have men prepared to roll that quickly? Before he had time to think, the patrol car sped towards the factory.

Cathartes stepped on the gas pedal and saw Ectopistes speed off as well. They fled the factory compound in a flash. But as he turned back, he saw that the patrol car was nevertheless hot on their heels. Trees and buildings and traffic lights screaming red, green and amber flashed past them in a maddened daze, blazing their trail with lights and reflections. After going down several blocks, their pursuers were still after them.

There was a fork in the road ahead.

“Let’s split up!” Cathartes shouted through the earphones.

“Alright, we’ll take the right turn,” Ectopistes responded. “We’ll slow down to tempt them and then draw them away!”

“No, wait!” Haliaeetus said.

“We can’t wait! They’re coming right now!” Zenaida rebuffed.

Haliaeetus protested, “But we can’t just throw you down—”

“It’s alright,” Ectopistes said dryly. “There’s no guarantee they won’t continue chasing you instead.” 

“Alright,” Cathartes agreed. “The point is, they only have one car, they can’t chase both pairs of us. This is just to mess with them. Very well, let’s split up.” 

Cathartes took the left turn, and the car parted ways with the SUV.

“Watch out! Coming right at you!” Cathartes yelled.

The patrol car went after the SUV.

“Don’t worry, they won’t catch us. They won’t even catch up with us,” Zenaida added.

The line was cut as the SUV sped off suddenly. The police, as if taken by a knee-jerk reaction, revved up their engines and shuttled after them. Cathartes continued down the street, as the SUV faded into the distance.