"This is going to be a hell of an entrance, Sheriff" Jenkins whispered to Melissa, the two concealed behind a large fallen tree at the rear of Samson's property.
"I just want it done professionally" Melissa instructed as she surveyed the old barn "Is everyone in position then?"
"Yes, all angles covered. Ready on your mark. Never seen the whole Department so pumped for action"
"The Department has never faced such a grave danger. We need to secure that computer before Samson gets chance to set it off" she glanced to the sky as she said this, wary that drones may already be on their way, and certainly would be if Samson got chance to unleash his anger on Doddington.
"I'll do whatever it takes, Sheriff" the gruff sergeant looked down at the handgun he had gripped in both hands.
Melissa didn't reply, her distaste for the weapon locked in a silent struggle with a desire to end this whole sorry mess within her mind. Instead she focused back on the barn. From their vantage point she could make out the form of Harmony bustling about what looked like some kind of lean-to workshop. Melissa wrinkled her nose in distaste; Samson's assistant had proved to be a willing accomplice, maybe even providing some of the know-how to speed up his evil plans against the town. Certainly Harmony was up to something at the moment. Perhaps trying to construct a vessel to house the drone-attracting computer that Samson had stolen.
Melissa silently rebuked herself again for the failing that had led up to Samson being able to seize the computer. Certainty there would be repercussions with the council once this situation was resolved, if there is a council left she grimly noted. However, in many ways the council were partly to blame for the town coming into danger like this. Had they heeded her urging to destroy the recovered technology, or had they refrained from the cutbacks that left her unable to place a 24 hour guard on the confiscated technology store. Save the recriminations for later she told herself it's almost time for action.
"What the hell is even this crap?" Harmony complained from the kitchen, her voice accompanied by clanking and crashing.
"Kitchen equipment. I think. I find a lot of stuff scavenging" Samson shouted back, still sitting, the shakes still not having totally subsided.
"Even this?!" she appeared at the door between the two spaces, oddly shaped metal device gripped uncertainly in front of her.
"Yeah, some kind of, er, spice thing. Maybe. Or something"
"What do you even do with it?" she continued to look perplexed
"Chef stuff, you wouldn't understand" Samson attempted to fob her off, his attention firmly on the the drone that he had maneuvered into the main space of the barn-come-home-junk shop. He'd left the computer attached so he could do some rooting around in the drone's internal systems once his nerves had calmed, but the drone itself was powered down, legs folded so that the cylindrical body almost touched the floor. It still took up much of the space in the barn and remained taller than Samson (although Harmony was about the same height).
"Hey, what's that?!" Harmony exclaimed suddenly
"Like I said, probably cooking equipment" Samson rolled his eyes, assuming his assistant come partner had confused herself with some other device in his kitchen.
"No, outside. Thought I saw something. Over by that fallen down tree"
"I've had a few rats round here" Samson called back, still unconcerned, despite the worried tone of Harmony's voice.
"Nah, bigger than that. Still maybe a stinkin' rat though" she came striding back into the main space, the device she'd been querying before now held the other way round so it looked like some kind of cubic metal club "Think we've got visitors"
Samson turned at this "Visitors?"
"Department" she'd gone over to a small window the other side of Samson "Drakk. That side too. Looks like they want their computer back"
"Well they can't have it" Samson had come to stand next to Harmony, following her gaze out the window.
"Pederson, can you make out the woman in the workshop?"
"Workshop, boss?" the voice of the constable crackled through the old analogue radio that Melissa gripped to her ear.
"In the lean-to, right opposite where I told you to position yourself" she rolled her eyes at Jenkins as if to underline her perceived frustration with the inept constable.
"Sorry Sheriff, see what you mean now. I'd assumed it was a kitchen" the radio then gave a burst of static. "But yeah, I can see her. Making something"
"Can you see what? I had eyes on a device of some sort"
"She's got some kind of, er, grinder I think"
"Repeat please, grinder?"
"Yeah, my Ma had one. It crushes pepper or spices when you press a button"
"A button? So it's electrical?"
"Yeah"
Melissa pulled the radio away from her ear and spoke at Jenkins "Must be how they're rigging the computer to go off, button activation, maybe remotely, try and get away before the drone strike" Jenkins looked unsure, slowly nodding.
But before Melissa could think through the possibilities any more, her radio squawked back into life. "I think I've been spotted" her brain took a second to realize that it wasn't the incompetent Pederson messing up again, but was instead the voice of Maithwaite "They're looking out the side window. Over" he continued.
"Ok, time to make our move everyone. Now!" Melissa would have liked to survey the situation a little longer, but it had been hard to find cover closer to the house. Maithwaite had probably over stretched on his approach. She'd yell at him about it later, but now was the time for calm leadership. She broke cover and began to hobble down the hill towards the barn, Jenkins having already leaped over the fallen tree and made it most of the way to the rear of the building.
Melissa wasn't a lead-from-the-front sort of Sheriff--her age and need for a walking stick precluded that approach--but she was always an active participant in the operations she organised. Here, as she made her way down the hill, she surveyed the approach of the other Department agents, 12 in total, instructed to quickly overwhelm the suspects inside, prevent them from operating anything technological.
Maithwaite and a couple of others were shouting for the people in the barn to remain still, trying to sound domineering as they crashed into what Melissa had taken to be the front door. There was also the tinkle of breaking glass, which she assumed to be Pederson breaking into the workshop or kitchen or whatever it was.
I ran out of steam/desire here, so maybe to be continued, maybe not.
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