Novel Bin Book 2: First Night (2)
Book 2: First Night (2)
Even as they finished rounding up all the suspects, there was no end to the tumult the police had left in their wake.
As the day finally came to an end, the lights of the surrounding patrol cars lit up the warehouse. Within, flurried exchanges via radio were being carried out. Casualties had been kept to a minimum; the members of the investigation had only received light wounds. Really, the one who faced the greatest danger was none other than the backup on surveillance standing by Matoba himself. The Russians they had injured were already on their way to the hospital.
Matoba! Exedilika! Over here!
Ordering the withdrawal of all troops through the comms, Inspector Bill Zimmer yelled at the two the moment he wrapped up his business.
Zimmer was the replacement for the late Jack Roth, employed as the new chief of the Special Vice Squad.
A black man in his fifties, with an ill-tempered expression eternally plastered on his face, he sported a bushy mustache oddly resembling a hairy caterpillar. Formerly a veteran detective of the Los Angeles Police Department, he had been working as the chief of Homicide at the 12th Precinct until just the other day. The 12th Precinct oversaw jurisdiction over a section of the city home to those of low-income backgrounds. Even within the city, it would not be uncommon to see one or two fights break out in their district. Hence, they were considered a particularly busy station. Having arrived from the frontlines, Zimmers command of the crime scene was compared to the reincarnation of Buddha himself. In military terms, he would be considered a mustang.1
Matoba and Tilarna had been loafing around in one corner of the warehouse, yet Zimmers shouts left them no choice but to reluctantly stand up.
Dont you dawdle. FUCKING COME HERE!!!
Zimmer curved his thick lips into a pout, pointing furiously at his own feet. It was a gesture most reminiscent of a coach scolding his baseball team on their losing streak, chewing out the outfielder for committing a grievous error during the match.
You the one responsible for chopping that Russians arm off, Matoba?
Zimmer said.
It wasnt me, sir. Tilarnas the one who
SHUDDUP! I dont give a fuck who did it. You guys are partners. If that alien over there rapes a hundred-year-old granny, itd be the same as if you did it. Theyll call you a pervert for the rest of your life. But Im a fair man. If you were to leak your shit out of the toilet, Ill ask Ms. Alien to lick it off the floor. Understand? Then, dont you dare talk back.
Fucking geezer, what a pain in the ass. Matoba could only hang his head in resignation. On the other hand, Tilarna looked as though she had not understood a single word, quietly listening with a blank expression on her face.
And? One of you care to explain why the hell you split up? If you two had acted together, that thing wouldnt have fucking happened in the first place!
West of the warehouse was looking a little fishy. I let Tilarna take watch over the area.
Why didnt you report this?
If I did, you wouldve objectedsir.Read latest 𝒏ov𝒆ls at n𝒐velbi𝒏(.)com
Course I would! Letting that alien loose with no knowledge on arrest protocol whatsoever was an absurd proposition to begin with. Im fucking sure I told you to keep your eye on her, didnt I!? For you to do as you please, pretending to be heroes, sending the suspects arms and legs flying off into the air Bet his fucking lawyers are laughing their asses off right about now!
I did not sever his legs.
This was the first time Tilarna opened her mouth.
And Inspector. Do not call me alien. That is a term of bigotry.
Saying that, Zimmer stared at her, eyes wide open, peering into Tilarnas sulky face.
Oh, is that so, young lady? Ill be REAL careful from now on.
Well, as long as his heads still stuck to his body, Im leaving his discharge to you bozos. And no screw-ups this time. Yknow Gardner from the prosecutors office? Bring him up to speed. He has till 9 a.m. tomorrow to hand in his report. If hes late by even a minute, Ill have his head on a chopping block!
Roger that.
Alien, that goes for you too. Ask Matoba for the format.
Do
Faster than Tilarna could object, Zimmer left to prepare the withdrawal, heading towards a patrol car back to HQ.
Good grief gung-ho asshole.
As Matoba muttered to himself, Tilarna let out a groan of displeasure.
I did not commit any mistakes. I was simply meting out justice to those evildoers. Why must he lambast me without even giving myself a chance to explain?
Its cause you overdid it. You should learn how to hold back for once.
Matoba was not in a particularly good mood either. In all his time as a veteran detective, he had seen many inspectors come and go, but never one quite so eager to give him hell. There was no way he would be happy about it.
It is because you let your guard down, Kei. This is all your fault.
I didnt ask you to come save me, yknow.
You dare say such a thing, Khe Imatuba1? To not even have the decency to utter Daash Zanna2 to me In the name of the Goddess Ghizenya
Kei!
One of Matobas fellow detectives, Tony, was beckoning towards the two as he stood beside the suspects minivan.
Leave the prayers to next week. Cmon, were gonna look at the goods.
Imbecile.
Puffing her cheeks, Tilarna proceeded to continuously poke his back.
Yeowch! What gives.
Shut up.
Stop it, youre embarrassing me.
From the outside, they looked to be just messing around. But nothing could be further from the truth.
Matoba headed towards the minivan where Tony was waiting.
Detective Tony McBee was a white, slender, young man. Always handsome, and eternally fashionable, today he was sporting a chestnut-colored suit along with a calming ascot tie.
Among his many colleagues in the Special Vice Squad, Matoba had always chosen his clothing haphazardly from the high-class suits they had confiscated. And every time, Tony would always judge him harshly for his choice. Having blended in with the likes of drug dealers, pimps, and men with power living lavish lifestyles, Matobas sense of fashion had become somewhat skewed as a result. Even so, compared to Tonys partner Godunov, he would never want to wear something like a pastel pink jacket to work.
Have you seen the weapons?
To Tonys question, Matoba nodded his head.
Yeah. Romanian-made AK-47s, thousands upon thousands of 7.62mm rounds, anti-personnel grenades, mines, flashbangs the whole lot of em. With that much firepower, theyd be able to take over just about any region in the Semani world in just three days.
Unthinkable. Your Dorini weapons would not even scratch the surface of my countrys many territories. They are not as fragile as you may think.
All Im saying is that theyll be more than enough in the countryside.
Matoba replied tiresomely.
Tilarna was a knight from Leto Semani, the world beyond the hyperspace gate that had appeared on the open sea surrounding the city of San Teresa the Mirage Gate. She had been dispatched to the city by the Farbanian Kingdom due to a certain case, remaining behind afterward as a special investigator in the San Teresa Police Department.
While there were many Semanian immigrants in the city, there were none quite like her, a Semanian working as a police investigator here in San Teresa. Her employment in the Special Vice Squad was thus seen as a test case; a trial, so to speak.
To compare the level of technology of the two worlds, the Semanians could be considered to have technology equivalent to that of 14th or 15th century Europe. The multi-purpose weapons that the Earthlings created were thus seen as precious commodities to these people. That was the main reason for the creation of the black market that oversaw the illegal trade of Earthling firearms, Semanian treasures, and in particular, magical devices. According to various international treaties as well as the respective laws of each country, the export of goods to the Semani world was to be strictly limited. Of course, this also meant that the prevention of these underground dealings came under the jurisdiction of the Special Vice Squad.
So, weve got ourselves some firearms on our end. What did the Semanians have in their little casket?
Dunno. Thats what Id like to find out.
To the side of the minivan, there lay the body of the casket, atop a pallet used by the forklifts. It had been roughly made out of wooden materials. An ancient Semanian design. Orange orbs were embedded in several places on the surface of the coffin. The cover was inlaid with the image of a goldfish performing some odd amalgamation of water acrobatics, almost as if it were constipated, surrounded by the engravings of indecipherable letters (or something similar).
You get any of this?
Matoba asked. Tilarna brought her right fist to the left of her chest, deep in thought. This was a gesture Semanians often make in these situations.
Not much. Though they resemble the words found in ancient Gravanian scripture I cannot read much of it. The moon? Forbidden? Blood? That is all I am able to decipher.
And its contents?
Tony shrugged his shoulders.
I havent taken a look inside. Maybe works of art? This looks extremely old. And these fine decorations It feels as though it might break if we try to force it open.
I dont care. Open it up.
Using the tip of his Ferragamo3 shoes, Matoba kicked the casket. Seeing no effect, he proceeded to pick up a crowbar lying nearby.
W-wait
Ignoring Tonys protests, Matoba used the crowbar to pry the lid open. Setting aside its weathered appearance, the casket itself was surprisingly intact. He did not know about the state of the plaster, but there were signs of an adhesive having been used. It was a rough job; the sealing of the casket had left cracks and fissures all along its body as it was opened. Seeing the state of it, Tony grimaced. Tilarna silently furrowed her brow, looking over his shoddy handiwork.
With a strange noise, he lifted the lid off the casket. Matoba used a small flashlight to light up the contents.
What the hell is that?
Inside, there lay a dried-up corpse wrapped in soiled cloth.
It resembled a human body. That much he knew. It had long hair.
This seems to be the daughter of a person possessing some rank somewhere
While Tilarna peered into the coffin out of pure curiosity, Tony whipped out his handkerchief and turned away from the sight.
Translators Notes: TL Note: A military slang term used to refer to a commissioned officer who began their career as an enlisted service member. Denotes experience and hard work to get to their position. TL Note: Thank you in Farbanian. TL Note: Salvatore Ferragamo a brand of luxury shoes.