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SWAT Team 4

By XP Author

How did it come to this? Graham didn't really have an answer. He could track the events that happened in his mind, as he'd done over and over. He thought of a thousand ways to do things differently, a thousand that things could have ended better. But he didn't think of them then. He couldn't change what happened.

The middle aged elk just sat on his bed, wearing the same clothes he had been the day before, except his brown trench coat, discarded on the floor. He hadn't showered since then, either. His fur was matted, his hair a tangled, dirty mess, and fresh stains dotted the front of his light blue dress shirt. An empty bottle of whiskey was discarded on the mattress beside him. On the table in front of him was his badge. Alta Ferro Police Department. Chief Detective Graham McMiller. SWAT. He knew well all the little grooves and bumps of that brass shield. He'd carried it, or one similar, for over 25 years.

Beside the badge was his side arm. A standard issue 9mm semi-automatic hand gun. As much a part of his uniform as the badge. As much a part of him. But now he was staring at both objects like they were foreign to him, trying to decide what to do. He looked to the badge. He could turn it in, retire from the force... but then what? He didn't know how to be anything but a cop. He looked then to the gun. That was an option, too. He had no family to speak of. He was sure there would be some officers that might miss him for a little while, but at the end of the day, he would always be remembered for his greatest failure.

He reached out, his hand hovering in front of him. It was shaking. He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and reached the rest of the way. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his gun, hefting the familiar weight as if for the first time. It seemed so much heavier now than ever before. He clicked the safety off, chambered a round, and put the barrel to his temple.

* * *

1 week earlier

Graham groaned as his alarm buzzed beside him, waking him with the familiar annoyance it always did. He rolled over and slapped the thing to turn it off. He wished he could stay in the blissful peace of sleep. He signed heavily and swung his legs off of the bed, letting them dangle there. A slender arm slid around his waist a moment later, followed by the feel of a warm, soft body pressed against his back. He smiled and turned back to see the woman holding onto him.

"Do we gotta go in?" She asked. Alexis Hopkins had been his partner for close to ten years. He trusted the tabby with his life. She'd saved it once or twice in the past. He'd done the same.

"Unfortunately, yes." He turned to look at her more fully. She was beautiful. She was the first feline he'd ever had as a lover, and he found her exotic in a ways because of that. Brown fur with tiger markings, longer and fuzzier than his short, tan coat. Of course, she'd expressed the same, never having slept with a man with antlers before. Then again, until very recently, she'd only ever had one lover: her husband.

Graham felt a pang of guilt, looking at the married woman clinging to his middle. Sure, he'd thought about this possibility for years, but it wasn't until very recently that anything happened. It was after that fiasco at at Eagle Heights. He was ready to turn his badge in after that, but she sat him down and had a long heart-to-heart with him. She convinced him not to. They'd talked so long it was late, he was tired, worn down, and gave in to a moment of weakness and just leaned in and kissed her that night. To his shock, instead of slapping him with both her hand and a harassment case, she returned the kiss. And then she ended up in his bed, and had been a frequent resident there for almost a month now. The station had beds, long nights of paperwork were a thing, and there have been a lot of both since Eagle Heights, so it was easy to use that as an excuse for her absence from her husband's side, but they'd need a new one soon.

She brought his thoughts back to the present when she slipped away from him. She stood and stretched, showing that feline flexibility to him. He admired her bare form, as he had gotten to do quite often of late, but didn't let his gaze linger too long. They really did have to get going soon. They'd be going on duty in an hour, and both needed to shower and part ways to avoid suspicions. There was also the matter of breakfast.

Graham got himself out of bed, and Alex definitely gave him the same gaze he'd given her. He could practically feel it. His stretches included a lot more popping along his spine and creaking in his knees. "You take the shower first."

Alex gave him a wry smirk. "What, not going to join me?" Her tone was flirtatious, and he heard her soft purring.

He shook his head, mock-scolding her. "Don't tempt me, seductress. You know I can't resist that."

She leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Yes, I know." With that, she slipped off to have that shower, her slender tail waving slowly behind her. God help him, he almost followed her in there.

* * *

The day had gone by as slow as any other. SWAT Team 4 were all at their desks, doing paperwork or working the phones, a common thing when not on a task. They were all present and accounted for. Detective Alexis Hopkins was nose deep in some reports, going over testimony to help another unit's case. Officer Victor Jenkins was assisting. The 33 year old barn owl was the spotter for the sniper pair on the team, and he had an eye for details like no one else. He claimed he could see the wings of a fly moving as it buzzed by. Most didn't doubt that claim for very long.

The other half of the sniper team, Felix Porta, on the phones. The 31 year old red fox looked a little annoyed as whoever was on the phone complained about something. The sniper's desk was littered with photos of his family. He was the only one of the group that had children. Two, in fact, ages 11 and 9. He was a proud father, to be sure.

The two youngest members, Officers Hector Malaroy and Alicia Franks, were hot in a debate about some local Basketball game. Franks was a little more animated in the discussion, the canine always having been more fiery tempered than the rest on the team. Almost her polar opposite was Malaroy, the rabbit always having the cooler head of the two. They were both good officers, though. The 26 year old Franks had a temper and was a little overzealous in arresting perps.

Malaroy was a strange case in the precinct. The rabbit was an orphan, and a former gang member. He'd been only one of three survivors of a shootout that wiped out his and a rival gang when he was only 15 years old. After getting a proper education, he'd turned his life around. 29 now, he was determined to try and make the streets a safer place, so no other kids had to end up where he did. Or worse, end up dead like his former gang mates.

And then there was Chief Detective Graham McMiller. The most senior of the group, and the team leader. He sipped at his third cup of coffee of the evening, staring at the files sitting on his desk. Case reviews. Very boring work. He hated doing it, but it needed to be done, and since the team didn't go out as often as regular officers, it tended to fall to him to do them.

He was expecting this to be another boring night. That expectation was shattered as the sergeant on duty came bursting into the room. "Team 4, gear up. We've got a situation." All eyes turned to the older bear, then the room was suddenly filled with movement as SWAT vests were thrown on and deployment gear was readied. Sargent Ivan Gregavitch gave the situation while the team readied. "We've got shots fired at Iceberg Bank and at least one officer down."

Graham frowned. "Bank heist. Kind of old fashioned. Any hostages?"

The sergeant nodded. "Yes. We don't know the exact numbers, but at least seven employees and several customers. Unknown number of assailants at the time, but we think at least four. Officer on location will have more info when you arrive."

Franks spoke up then. "Must have some pretty big guns if they need us in there."

The sergeant nodded. "Officers on the scene report automatic weapons fire."

Malaroy spoke up this time. "So much for a quiet evening."

* * *

"This is NOT how things were supposed to go!"

"I know. Shut up. We can get out of this!"

"Sure, but it's going to be one hell of a dust up!"

Steven sighed as he heard the banter of his fellow robbers. "Will you idiots shut up and hurry up! The longer you take cracking those boxes the more cops line up out there."

"Well, if they get too close, we can start piling them up instead! Haha!" This was from Steven's younger brother, Thomas. All 5 of the foxes robbing the bank were brothers. The Gallay family. Troy was the eldest, and the one currently cracking the lock boxes. Steven was next, and defacto leader of this little family gang. Ed and Bill were twins, neither very bright but decent shots. Thomas was the youngest, and definitely showed it.

Steven shook his head. "T, shut up. Plugging that cop before is what got us in this situation."

Thomas shot back "You're the one that shot the bank manager!"

Steven shook his head and motioned to the well dressed, blood-soaked body to the side, a half dozen bullet holes in his chest oozing all over the place. "It's his own fault for trying to grab me."

Ed was watching the hostages, and Thomas was supposed to be doing the same. Most of the people were bank customers, with some of the employees. All were terrified.

Bill was in the back with Troy, loading cash and whatever other valuables were hidden in the boxes into duffel bags. They already filled two, with three more to go. One for each of them to carry. Steven called back "How much longer?"

Troy's deep, even voice called back out. "Half-way done. Going as fast as I can."

Steven cursed and just started pacing. That's when the cops outside started using megaphones. "Attention Gallay family."

* * *

The team arrived at the bank in question. The building was two storys tall, but only one floor, with an overly high ceiling. Most of the team got ready for orders while Graham moved to find the officer in charge. He recognized the officer when he got close, a young lion, Officer Elijah Yenish. "Eli. What do we have?"

The lion turned and looked visibly relieved to see Graham there. "We've got five well armed perps with itchy trigger fingers. We've identified them as the Gallay family." Graham groaned, recognizing the name immediately. "Yeah. Seems they decided to show their faces again. They've got at least a dozen hostages in there. One confirmed dead, no clue if there's any wounded." He looked to the EMTs positioned well away from the immediate danger zone. "Well, inside anyway. They opened fire on the troopers that first arrived at the scene. One of them took a bullet to the shoulder. EMTs say he'll live."

Graham shook his head. "Thank God for small miracles." He pat the lion on the shoulders. "Keep it up out here. I'll get my team in position and see if I can't talk some sense into these psychos." Eli nodded. Graham moved back to his team. "Alright, got bad news and bad news."

Alex scoffed. "This day keeps getting better and better."

Graham grunted but continued. "It's the Gallay family." A groan sounded from the whole team. "Yeah, and that's not the worst news here. They've got automatics."

Franks blurted out "How the hell did a bunch of blockheads like them get their hands on auto's?"

Graham shook his head. "Not our concern. Not yet anyway, we'll find that out if we can get them in custody. Our first concern, however, is the hostages. At least a dozen, possibly more. And they're willing to kill. One confirmed dead."

Alex frowned, her voice serious. "What's the plan?"

Graham pointed to a building across from the bank. "Porta, Jenkins. I want you two in that building. Find a vantage point you can use and get a bead on anyone inside. Don't open fire unless I say, or they start shooting. We don't want them getting spooked and start killing hostages." The sniper pair gave their affirmative and moved off to get into position. "Malaroy, Franks, I want you to move around the back of this place. Cut off any escape plan they might have. Take a couple of officers with you, too. No unnecessary heroics." The pair nodded and moved off toward the officers gathered at the front. After picking four, the group moved off to find a way around the back of the building.

Graham looked to Alex. "You're with me."

The feline smiled at him, a little sweeter than she had the last time they did this song and dance. "As always."

Graham moved forward once more, patting Eli on the shoulder to signal he was ready. Without a word, Eli handed over a megaphone. Graham clicked the button once to make sure it was on, then brought it to his mouth. His voice was projected outward and loud. "Attention Gallay family. I'm Detective Graham McMiller. I just want to talk."

There was a long silence as they got no reply from the group inside. No surprise there. "I say again, I just want to talk to you."

This time there was a reply. The high strung voice of Steven was suddenly broadcast from speakers on the outside of the building. The bank apparently had a PA system of some sort, and the man was using that now. "Yeah? Then go ahead and talk."

Alex hissed under her breath. "Not the best start."

Graham nodded grimly, but continued the attempt at negotiations. "Look, you're completely surrounded. Release the hostages now and come out with your hands up, and we see about working out some kind of deal here." The radio piece in his ear clicked softly, and the voice of Jenkins reported they were in position. He confirmed 13 hostages, one dead body on the floor, but only 2 perps visible at the moment.

Steven's voice blurted out again. "Yeah, deal. Like being locked up for the next 25 years minimum, right? No dice, cop!"

Graham grit his teeth. The Gallay family had grown infamous over the last few years of being a violent bunch, with no regard for authority and a knack for escaping capture. This time, they'd bitten off more than they could chew, but it seemed they still had the arrogance to think they could get away. "You're only making this worse for yourselves. If you release the hostages and come out peacefully, I'll work with you to try and get a lesser sentence. But there is no way you can get out of this. Give up now, before you make things worse."

There was silence again. In his ear, Jenkins reported movement, and visual on a third perp. Suddenly Jenkins' typically soft voice was very urgent, yelling for Graham to get down. Graham's eyes went wide and he echoed the order, shouting to the crowd. "EVERYONE GET DOWN!"

A moment later, automatic weapons fire opened up on the crowd. Officers ducked behind cop cars or barricades as bullets thudded into metal doors, shattered windshields, or whizzed overhead. Several of the officers were reporting the shots fired on radios already. There were two more counts of officer down. Any crowd of gawkers that was there suddenly scattered in a screaming panic at the very real chance of dying.

Alex shook her head as she crouched beside Graham. "So much for peaceful negotiations." She drew her sidearm, giving it a quick check, and clicked the safety off.

Graham did much the same. "I gave them their options. Let's just hope this doesn't go completely tits up." Once the hail of bullets stopped from inside, Graham gave the orders he hated to give. "Weapons hot. Return fire!" He tapped his earpiece. "Porta, if you have a shot, take it!"

And that was when everything went completely wrong.

* * *

Steve got pissed off at the cop trying to sweet talk them out there and threw the PA mic to the ground, the thing snapping in half upon impact. It actually made quite the satisfying crunch when it did so. Steve stormed out of the manager's office. "Hey, T! You wanted a chance to shoot some cops? Give them our response!"

Thomas laughed, hefting his rifle and aiming at the main doors. He pulled the trigger and just started laughing as he proceeded to empty the entire magazine, and shouting "FUCK YOU, COPS!" as loud as he could, though it was barely heard over the sound of the gunfire echoing around the place.

When it finally died down, Thomas kept laughing. He popped the magazine to reload the gun. "Take that, you stupid c-" He never got to finish his words. There was a loud bang from outside a fraction of a second before a high caliber sniper round shattered the fox's skull. The back of his head exploded, spraying blood, bone, and brain matter across the polished floor. His body collided with the shiny surface a moment later, dead before he finished falling.

"TOM!" Ed shouted as he watched his younger brother's head get blow off.

Steve just stood there for a second in shock. "Fuck!" He then had to dash over to grab Ed and hold him back. "No!"

Ed tried to shove his older brother off, tears in his eyes already. "They got Tom, Steve! The fucking got Tom! They gotta pay!"

Steve, shoved Ed backwards, standing in front of him. "They will, but like that. They have a fucking sniper out there, and a dozen guns pointed at those doors! You burst out that way, you'll be torn to pieces before you can fire a single shot!"

Ed looked about ready to try and bulldoze his way through Steve anyway, but did listen to reason. "Fine. Fine! This is so fucked up. Jesus." Ed started to pace in circles.

The cops outside started to open fire on the building, sending both Ed and Steve diving for cover behind nearby desks. "No, THIS is fucked up!" Steve replied. "That's it, we're leaving. Troy, Bill. Pack you're shit, we're out!"

The Steve stayed low and started to move toward the hallway that led to the vault, and the rear exit. Ed nudged his arm. "What about them?" He motioned to the cowering hostages, all flattened against the floor behind the teller desk.

Steve shrugged. "Fuck 'em." He pointed his gun and opened fire on the crowd. Screams echoed as most of the hostages were hit. After the brief moment, most of the innocents lay on the floor either dead, or bleeding out from the bullet wounds. "Dead weight should just be dead."

The pair moved down the hall, finding the two remaining brothers. Troy looked at Steve. "Where's T?"

Ed grit his teeth. "Fucking cops shot him. Fucking sniper!"

Troy shook his head, and Bill just growled. "Jesus. Steve, we're doing something, right?"

Steve grabbed one of the full duffels and shoved it into Bill's hands. "Yeah. We're getting the fuck out of here."

Bill pointed back in the direction of the main lobby. "We can't just leave T's body out there!"

Steve growled at his younger brother, grabbing his shirt and dragging him close to speak right up in his face. "We can, and we will. Going out there for him will just leave your body next to his, probably with more holes." He shoved the younger fox back. "Now grab this shit. We're leaving out the back."

The four brothers grabbed the few full bags they had and made their way to the back door. Ed was the first out, and right into the sights of Malaroy and Franks. As six cops raised their guns, Franks yelled out. "FREEZE! Drop the guns and put your hands up!"

Ed just stared at the lineup of cops, then grit his teeth as he remembered the sight of Thomas' head bursting like a melon. "Fucking cops." He raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. He only got a half-dozen bullets off before he was met by overwhelming return fire. The other three brothers watched as his chest exploded in blood pray and collapsed to the ground. Steve yanked Bill back before he could even try to say anything.

"Officers down!" one of the cops shouted into his radio a moment later.

"At least he took a few with him." Steve said grimly as he dragged his brothers back into the building.

* * *

Out back, three officers lay on the ground dead, Malaroy among them. He'd taken a bullet above his left eye. The other two had been struck in the chest. A fourth, the one who called into the radio, had been grazed in the shoulder and was bleeding out pretty badly. Franks bent over, shaking as she looked down at the dead face of her partner, blood soaking into the rabbit's white fur. She grit her teeth and looked to the uninjured officer. "Stay here." Before the man could question why, the enraged canine charged off into the doorway the remaining robbers had fled back into.

Out front, Graham was fielding information. At least one of the perps was confirmed down. There were more shots fired from within, and he assumed the worst. He then got the report of officers down in the back, and his heart sank when he learned one of them was Malaroy. Alex saw his expression fall even more grim. "What?"

His voice was almost monotone. "Malaroy's down. 2 other officers, too. One wounded." He heard the last of the report and grit his teeth. "And Franks just charged off into the building, DAMMIT!" He clicked his squad radio and shouted into it, to hell if he deafened anyone in the process. "Franks, get the fuck out of there! You're going to get yourself killed!" He expected to hear something in return, even a 'screw you.' He got nothing. "FRANKS!" Dead air. Graham and Alex shared a look of dread.

Inside, Franks moved low and slow down the hallway, following the voice of the men having an argument inside. They were panicked, desperate, and most of all, disorganized. She winced as Graham's voice suddenly blasted in her ear, and she clicked the radio off, her ear ringing now. "Sorry, chief." She readied her gun and rounded the corner. "Freeze!" She pointed the gun at the two men inside, both of which looked shocked to see her there. "Drop the guns."

Steve looked at her more confused than afraid. "You know you can't shoot both of us before one of us shoots you, right?"

The woman smiled. "Maybe. But which of you are willing to be the one I shoot first? Now drop 'em or I lessen your count to one."

"It's still three." The deep voice said from behind her. Before Franks could say anything, Troy grabbed her and slammed her head against the wall hard enough that the plaster cracked. The woman collapsed to the floor a moment later.

"Fucking cunt. Got guts, I'll give her that." Bill looked at Steve. "You want to spill them, or should I?"

Steve shook his head. "No..." He reached into one of the duffel bags, pulling out a small round object. "I got a better idea."

* * *

This had turned into a shit show fast, but the gunfire had at least stopped. The uninjured officer from the back had just returned, dragging his wounded partner to the EMTs. He filled in the details that they had managed to take out another of the perps in the back. Confirmed kill. So that was two of the five so far. The fact that it had gotten quiet worried Graham.

"Hey, officers!" Steve's voice was over the PA again. "I've decided that I'm going to give you a gift. A peace offering."

Alex looked at the front of the building. "What the hell are they up to now?"

"It seems one of your little bitches slipped in here. We're going to give her back." Graham tensed up. It had to be Franks. "Oh, don't worry, she's still alive. Had to rough her up a little, but she's breathing. Well, rasping. Might want to head to the side alley and grab her while she can still do that."

Graham swore and gave the order. "3 of you go and get her out of there! Watch yourselves, it could be a trap." Three uniforms rushed off to go retrieve the young woman in question.

Several agonizing minutes later, they returned with the bloody and battered form of Alicia Franks. "She's alive!" one of the men carrying her called back.

Graham let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Get her to the EMTs."

Alex pat her partner's side. "I'll go." He smiled at her and nodded. Alex moved off to be with the battered woman and see just how bad it was. Knowing Franks, it would take a lot more to put her down, and she probably had info to give anyway.

Franks was loaded onto a gurney and the EMTs started their work. "Is there something under her vest?" one of them asked just as Alex was getting in earshot.

Alex's eyes went wide and she shouted "NO! Get b-" she was cut off as the grenade exploded. Fire erupted in the middle of the EMT area. Alex was knocked back by the blast, her back slamming into a car door. Her ears were ringing and her chest ached. She tried to take a breath and started to cough. It sounded wet and she tasted blood. She looked down at herself and sighed. "Shit..." Sticking out from her chest was a massive piece of metal. It had pierced completely through her, pinning her to the door. She was surprised it wasn't bleeding more...

Graham just watched all of this unfold, his blood running cold. He grabbed the nearest radio. "I need these assholes in cuffs or in the ground NOW! Before this turns into any more of a war zone!"

Jenkins' voice sounded in his ear again. "Movement to the opposite side of the building. Might be trying to make a break for it."

Graham responded back. "Do you have a shot?"

"Yes."

Graham grit his teeth. "Take it!"

* * *

Bill laughed as the explosion tore a hole though the medical section of the police line. "Serves you right, you fuckers!"

Steve let his brother have the moment, but was instead focused on Troy. "You ready for this?"

The eldest fox nodded. The trio were in the back alley again, Troy crouched and hidden, aiming high and watching. Steve was on the opposite side, holding one of the surviving hostages. It was a good thing he'd manage not to kill this one, too. A fellow fox. He'd ordered the man to strip and get into the clothing Ed had been wearing, bloody as they were. He looked just like one of them now. "Alright, asshole. You get to go free. Tell them we're giving you back as a peace offering."

Troy chuckled, but said nothing. The Gallay 'peace offerings' usually meant someone was getting killed. The terrified hostage nodded. He had been hit only in the shoulder earlier, and while he was bleeding, he would survive if treated. "Go on then." Steve smacked the man's ass. "Git!" The hostage yelped and started moving down the alleyway.

A moment later, the hostage's head burst open as a sniper round pierced through his skull. It was almost an exact repeat of what happened to Thomas, only this time the corpse thudding to the ground was just some innocent bystander. "Fuck! I gotta get me one of those guns!" Steve looked at Troy. "You see 'em?"

Troy nodded, aiming down sight. "I see 'em."

"Think you can make it?"

Troy smirked. "When have I ever missed?" He aimed carefully. Unlike the other four brothers, Troy's rifle was for long range. He also had damned good vision. He'd watched where the flash from the sniper shot came from, seeing it in the third floor window of the building cross the way. Clever, not being on the roof. He'd have seen them immediately if they were on the roof. He saw both the sniper and the spotter. He aimed at the sniper first and pulled the trigger.

* * *

"That's a hit. Confirmed kill." Jenkins said, both to his partner and the radio for the rest to hear. He and Porta had managed to get entry to an unused office in the building. It was a perfect vantage point to observe, but still had cover.

Porta started to shift his view, slowly moving the scope to see if anything else moved back there. He had heard the reports happening, and saw the explosion at the EMTs, and he wanted these bastards dead. They were far too dangerous. His scope shifted from the alley he'd shot down to the other alley. He frowned. "I've got mo-" His scope exploded as a bullet ripped through it and into his right eye. The fox's head shot back, sending his body to the ground.

Jenkins flinched as shrapnel peppered his face. But not just shrapnel as something wet also hit him. When he looked, he knew it was the blood of his friend and partner, now laying dead on the floor beside him. "O-officer down! They have a sniper! I repeat, they have a s-" Another shot was heard. Jenkins never heard it. The second bullet hit true, penetrating the side of the owl's head. The avian's skull was much more fragile than most mammals, and when the high velocity shell struck, his head very nearly exploded. He slumped over, his corpse falling upon that of his partner's.

* * *

Graham found himself shaking. Everyone... everyone was dead... Alex! "Eli, you're in command!"

Eli looked at Graham, shocked. "What?" The young lion hesitated for a minute, but picked up the radio. "Uh... this is Officer Yenish, taking over command. Detective McMiller has... relieved himself." He then started to issues whatever orders he could think of. Mainly trying to pin the three brothers in the back alley so they could be captured or killed.

Graham dashed over to where he had last seen Alex. The EMT area was in ruins. The ambulance that Franks was being loaded into was torn open from the explosion. Pieces of the vehicle were strewn everywhere, many of them embedded into walls or the ground by the force of the explosion. The remains of the EMTs and the youngest member of his team were also scattered about. "Alex!?" He frantically looked around for his partner.

He tried to remember where she was when the explosion happened. Maybe she got pinned under some rubble. He realized he was standing past where she was when it happened. She must have gotten knocked back by the blast. He turned around, and the blood in his veins ran cold as ice. There she was, slumped against the door to a squad car. A piece of the ambulance's door had impaled through her chest. He stumbled forward a handful of steps, only for his legs to give out from under him. He collapsed to his knees, but couldn't stop staring at her. She had her eyes closed, and she looked almost peaceful. Like she was just asleep.

He moved forward and put his arms around her. She was cold to the touch. He clung to her, shaking. This couldn't be real. None of this could be real. How did this happen? He let out a scream of agony and rage, holding the dead body of the only woman he'd ever truly loved.

* * *

5 days later

The remaining three Gallay brothers had somehow managed to slip away in the chaos. They wounded another five officers as they fled the scene. They're current whereabouts are unknown.

After being debriefed, Chief Detective McMiller was given extended leave of his post. He opted to perform one more duty before he accepted the leave. He would present at the funerals of his fallen team. Now he stood at a podium in full dress uniform. Behind him were framed portraits of the 18 officers that had died that day, five of which were his closest friends.

Graham gripped the wood of the podium before him, looking down at the prepared speech and began to read from it. "Dying in the line of duty is a risk that every officer of the law knows we may have to make." He had practiced this speech, and he already felt he might not make it through. "While we accept that risk, it is still a hard sacrifice to make. And the harder burden of carrying on after them falls to those of us they leave behind."

There were many crying faces in the audience. He recognized many of them. Felix Porta's wife, Greta, and their two kids. Victor Jenkins' husband Robert. Hector Malaroy's wife, Elizabeth. Alicia Franks' sister, Vivian. And, of course, Alex Hopkin's husband, William. Graham's gaze lingered upon William for a moment. "But our burden is not just to carry on. It is to remember them. To remember those that gave the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. To not let that sacrifice be in vain, and to honor that memory and carry it forth."

The ceremony continued, and he read about each individual before setting a medal of valor against the portrait of each fallen officer. Posthumously awarded medals always struck him as tasteless. Now it seemed downright disrespectful.

After the ceremony, he moved down with the rest of the mourners, both giving and receiving condolences. It all felt so hollow. The words he spoke sounded hollow to his ears, as well. Not letting their sacrifice be in vain? It was a joke. Most of the psychopaths that made that warzone happen got away. And there were more like them out there. Murderers, rapists, and all manner of vile things pretending to be people. He felt like his whole career had been a joke. He changed nothing, just got the people closest to him killed.

William Hopkins snapped him out of his self-loathing inner thoughts when he suddenly rested a hand against his shoulder. "Graham... I'm sorry."

Graham looked at the man, shaking his head. "N-no, I should be the one saying that to you."

William smiled at the elk. "No. I know you and Alex were close." Graham almost winced. 'close.' William was the man Alex had been cheating on. With him. It was almost too much.

Graham tried to politely get away. "Well, we were partners for 10 years. You get pretty close after that amount of time, you know?"

William just shook his head. "No, I mean I know she was sleeping with you." Graham just stared at the cat holding his shoulder. "Oh, no, don't worry. I don't hate you for it. Or her. No, if anything I want to thank you."

Graham just sputtered for a moment. "I... uh... I have no idea what to say..."

William just smiled again. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. ...Alex and I had been having some... marital problems for a while."

Graham gave an apologetic look to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

William just gave a nod. "Yeah, she didn't like to broadcast her drama to anyone. Not even me, sometimes. But I'm just glad that, in the end, she was with someone decent like you." The feline pat Graham's shoulder, and walked away on that note.

Graham just stood there, feeling like even more of a tool than he had before. He'd stolen such a decent person's wife away from him and then gone and gotten her killed. "I need a drink. Or five."

* * *

2 days later

He had gotten that drink. And then more. And more still. It hadn't helped. And so it came to this. Sitting on his bed, staring at his badge and his gun, and forced to make a choice. He picked up his pistol, flicking the safety off. He chambered a round, just to be sure. He pressed the gun to his temple and closed his eyes.

The gun fell to the floor with a thud. He fell to the floor a moment later. Tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn't even do this. He couldn't leave things like this. He couldn't be a cop anymore, not knowing everything he was doing was for nothing! But what was there for him anymore? He opened his eyes, and stared at his hands. They weren't shaking anymore. Suddenly he knew what it was he had to do.

* * *

3 weeks later

Steve Gallay lay in his bed, snoring softly. He and his two living brothers had managed to slip away from the chaos and those damned cops. Even managed to shoot a few more as they fled. Hell, they even got most of the money. They'd already spent most of it on booze and whores, of course, but who cares? There was always more money to be stolen somewhere.

Now the trio was holed up in some rats den on the edge of the city. A dirty hovel of a place, but it made for a good safe house. No one ever came to a place like this. So Steve was able to sleep soundly.

Most of the time. Tonight, his sound sleep was rudely interrupted as a solid piece of metal smashed across his face, shattering his nose and sending him crashing out of his bed to the floor. He spat blood and pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Alright, who the fuck?" Steve tensed as he heard the distinct sound of a round being chambered into a pistol.

"It took me a while to find you, Mr. Gallay. But I did." The voice was cold. Calm. And... familiar.

Steve looked about, but the room was still dark. "Who the fuck are you? Show yourself like a man, you assh-" He was silenced as the gun smacked across his face again. "Ow, my fucking nose! You cock!"

"You don't have the right to judge anyone as a coward, Steven."

Steve growled, then it clicked. The voice. "Wait, I know your voice. You're that cop from the bank job! The one with the megaphone." He was answered by silence. "Yeah, I know you. Haha, fucking cop comes into my home and threatens me? You got balls, mister. I'll enjoy cutting them off of you."

Graham took a step back, but not in fear. "No, Steven. You won't."

Steve growled again. "Go on then. Shoot me. As soon as you did, my brothers will hear it and come in here. Then they're going to beat you within an inch of your life, cut your pelt off, and leave your for the rats!"

Graham flicked the light switch, and Steve suddenly felt very afraid. He hadn't smelled it earlier, thanks to the gun smashing his nose. Graham was standing before him, his trenchcoat covered in blood. Two heavy objects thudded to the floor in front of Steven. He looked down and saw it was the severed heads of Bill and Troy. "What the fuck!? You're a cop, you're not supposed to do this sort of shit!"

Graham just tilted his head. "I'm not a cop anymore. I retired. Now I'm a hunter." He pointed the gun at Steve again. "You and your brothers killed everyone I was close to. Killed the only woman I loved. I think it's only fitting that I kill the only people you love, right?"

Steve tried to be intimidating again, glaring up at the man. His gaze was still fixated on the gun pointed at him, just out of immediate reach. "So you have a bitch get murdered so you become a murderer?"

Graham ignored him and continued. "Of course, the only person you truly love is yourself, isn't it?"

Steve's expression suddenly went from attempted intimidation to fear. "Wait... you don't..." the shot echoed around the room. Steve slumped to the side, blood running from the hole in the center of his forehead.

"I do. Good bye, Mr. Gallay."

Graham walked out of the building, throwing a match to the floor as he did. It lit a pool of gasoline he'd spilled before, and within minutes the whole hovel was ablaze. Graham stood on a bridge nearby, watching the fire and smoke rise. He held his badge in his hand and looked down at it. "Good bye, Detective McMiller." He dropped the badge, letting it fall into the river below this bridge. "Hello, Mr. Hunter."

* * *