The Storm (7)

Towering over the concrete barricade that he had long stopped hiding behind, Bazel looked over the carnage that was before him with cold eyes.

The stench of blood was thick in the air as well as human feces strewn across the ground, all from the dying or dead men that littered the ground like the leftover trash of an after party.

Bazel had no fear though, instead he was simply seething in cold fury that only stopped growing in intensity when Zaira's brother decided to retreat.

Letting go of the barricade in front of him Bazel stepped back and reached down to pull Zaira up by her shoulder once more, easily lifting her like she weighed nothing.

"Hey you filt-" began Zaira, but was immediately silenced by a single glance from Bazel. Her jaw dropped as she noticed the changes in Bazel and sniffed him several times over, each time her brow scrunching together even more.

Of course Bazel ignored the girl, simply pushing her in front of him and making his way towards Neto who was currently looking over his men. While she was being pushed along Zaira noticed a few details that had not caught her eyes before: the part of the barrier that Bazel was holding had begun to crack to pieces as well as directly behind where Bazel was standing there were several bullet holes in the wall...

"This is always the hardest part of the job, watching the men and women under you die due to your decisions. It was like this back then, just as it is now..." said a downcast Neto, who was listening to Loera give his verbal respects to the fallen officers.

There were 10 fallen officers in total, lined side by side on the ground with a survival blanket draped over their faces, which was more than half of the original number. The few that were remaining, including the relatively unharmed SWAT, stood at attention silently grieving for their fallen brethren.

Bazel stood behind Neto, watching the proceedings go down without saying a word. He did not grieve or even feel any sadness at the loss of life, but he still had a faint respect for their actions.

"They stood against impossible odds, yet they never broke or even thought about running away. Not even when their cover was being torn apart or when their fellow man was being turned into a cheese grater. I remember seeing one of them even raise his weapon and fire off a few bullets even as his stomach was turned into a sieve. They were good men, despite their weakness."

Although he felt nothing other than this, he still felt that it would be appropriate for him to join in on the salute even if he did not exactly know why.

Trying to rationalize his own actions he struggled for a few moments before thinking, "If I required people to defend my beloved younger sister then I would have perhaps wanted people like them. Unmoving, uncompromising, and unbreakable." When his sister came to mind, unbeknownst to him, two tears rolled down his cheeks and fell to the ground.

The small little funeral procession was interrupted by the sound of sirens, both from ambulances and other police cars. Behind the blockade of the now empty mafia cars were fast approaching reinforcements, skidding to a halt and unloading numerous officers who were clearly far more equipped than normal.

All of them holding AR's and decked out in body armor, these officers were of higher rank and veterency as evidenced by their swift movements and coordinated tactics. They secured the area quickly and easily, while the apparent leader of the force walked forward in greeting to Neto.

"Boss looks like you got yourself into a real mess here. Forgive me for not arriving on time, I literally ran out of the building and yelled at everyone I could see to follow me but it seems I was just not fast enough" said the approaching man, an elderly gentleman with gray hair and an impressive white beard to boot. He was calm, collected, and well spoken but if one were to look closely they would see a wild ferocity contained deep within.

Neto collected himself and walked over, greeting the newcomer with a strong embrace and a pat on the back. Breaking away from the quick manly embrace he said, "Salazar, don't beat yourself up over it. Even I was caught off guard by these events. I had prepared for an extremely dangerous confrontation, pulling out all the resources I could under my name alone but who would have guessed the enemy was so...inhuman."

Salazar looked around at the carnage on the ground and shivered slightly as he tried to imagine the hellish scene that must have occurred here not too long ago. He opened his mouth to ask but Neto waved him silent.

"Mentor, now is not the time. I need to get our VIP here to the department fast before anything else unexpected occurs" said Neto whilst pointing towards Zaire, "her identity just became a lot more sensitive and the information she holds will no doubt shed a lot of light on whatever we are dealing with here. Arrange transport for me."

Salazar saluted in response to the order and motioned with his hand towards one of the black vans that had arrived with him. A hand was stuck out of the window of the driver's seat that turned into a thumbs up. Nodding in response Salazar turned around and said, "That vehicle is all yours boss, there is enough room inside for you and those two behind you."

Clasping him on the shoulder in response, Neto waved behind him for Bazel to follow him.

Pushing Zaira forward so he could walk side by side with his friend, he looked at the expression of Neto closely and while before he saw a downcast and solum expression now it was full of gritty resolve.

As they walked they ended up passing the group of men who had joined in on the battle towards the end, fighting the two monstrous mafia bosses to a standstill and even inflicting damage on them. Many of them had various small injuries while a few had broken arms or legs, a testament to the intensity of the combat that they underwent. Bazel could even clearly see several of them with newly missing fingers, as well as several bags resting in ice that were full of decapitated appendages.

Seeing Bazel look at the men with a curious eye Neto lit up slightly, a look of pride appearing on his face. "These are mis niños, or at least some of them. They had followed me for years, through thick and thin, all the way since I first walked out of the hell hole of a ghetto I was born in. These very same men are also the ones that owe their lives to you. Usually they are busy staffing the many recreation centers I have running on the side or Loera's pet shops and shelters but when I put out the call for anyone who wanted to help you out these brats came running."

Passing the group by the hardened men stopped what they were doing and looked at Neto and Bazel, respect and admiration appearing on their faces not just when they looked at their leader but also when they saw the suited figure of Bazel.

Unsure of how to respond to such vehement admiration and respect, Bazel just nodded back and said, "Your lives are your own, but thank you for assisting me. Nothing would stop me from my vengeance, but having others help me is always welcome."

The men saluted in response as Bazel continued to walk by, still pushing an annoyed but silent Zaira, and got into the back of the black van followed by Neto.

The inside was two benches that ran alongside the length of the van, with seatbelts jutting out from the wall just above the seat to secure you to it and grab handles above to stop yourself from getting thrown left or right by sudden turns.

Allowing Zaira to get in first, Bazel sat down and secured himself to the seat before looking over at Zaira and helping her do the same.

"I do not need your help..." chided Zaira, but her tone was noticeably weaker than before and had less edge to it.

"Trust me, I have no desire to. Alas, you are a good hostage and excellent source of information" responded Bazel with a dry tone. While inwardly he thought, "Not to mention you still have a debt to pay."

The last to get in was Neto who heard the end of the talk between the two and said, "He is correct missy, you just became a lot more valuable. You get the pleasure of being interned directly in the HQ for southern central policia, what an honor."

Ignoring the piss poor attempt at lightening the mood, Bazel looked at Zaira with frosty eyes and spoke with a tone that left no room for questions, "What do you know, girl? What on earth were those...things? The small time mafia members that suddenly forgot how to fear or feel pain, those beastly bodyguards that had impossible reactions, and then the two at the end who shrugged off machetes and point blank shots from what amounted to a small hand cannon. What is this family of yours involved in..."