Detective Deadlock Ch.3

Detective Deadlock – Chapter 3: Detective R

“Knock, knock.”

Officer Winston walked into Detective Deadlock’s office.  He closed the door behind him and took in a deep breathe as he stretched out his fixed tie.  Deadlock was searching through multiple papers, his coat on his chair and his fedora hung on the coat rack next to the door.  He had thick framed reading glasses as he analyzed any bit information linking to his case.

“What do you need, Tommy?  I’m in the middle of a case here…” Deadlock held two papers that could have information about the woman he saw in the park to a location.

“About that.  You reported the shootings in the park, right?” Winston asked.

“Yeah, there was, what?  Like forty casualties from this one woman, possibly more,” Deadlock fixed his glasses.

“Deadlock, Jean.  How long have we been in the same squad?” Winston said the detective’s real name as he sat down in one of his chairs.

Deadlock shrugged, “I don’t know, probably five or six years.  You’re the only officer that still remembers me joining.  All the other guys here don’t even know where I come from.”

“Jean.  How are the mechanizations coming along?” Winston stared at Deadlock’s arm.

“I’m getting by, Tommy, get to the point, I’m busy.”

“Deadlock there was no woman,” the officer said abruptly.

Detective Deadlock smiled.  He looked at Winston expecting to see a similar expression but instead he was given a very serious look.  The detective still chuckled to try to shake Winston’s seriousness, but nothing budged.  He reflected the serious look and stood up from his office chair.

“What the hell are you telling me?”

“The woman.  There were no traces of her being there-“

“She could have ran away!” Deadlock objected.

“There was no one in Central Park, it closed several hours after you showed up, how you got in without alerting any security is the only mystery there!”

“The security could’ve been patrolling another part!”

“There were no bullets from a chain gun.  There was no one else in that park other than you and those men!”

“No, no, no, no!  I know what I saw!” Detective Deadlock became frustrated.

“There was no one there!  Deadlock, in all the years I’ve worked with you, you have never acted this crazy!  Please tell me, is the medicine the mechanics giving you messing with your head?”

Deadlock looked at a bottle of pills he had taken out of his cabinet from earlier.  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.  Before Deadlock could even mention anything, Winston spoke up again.

“Chief gave you a new case.  The ‘mutant’ you helped catch earlier is in interrogation downstairs.  He wants you to find out where this guy came from.”

Winston left the detective in his office.  Deadlock was in a quiet rage, but he kept it together before heading out to the interrogation.  He stepped out of his office and spotted Annika setting up in her new desk with office supplies and photo frames.

“Annika, meet me downstairs, there’s an interrogation and I need you to soak up some experience,” Deadlock headed toward the elevator as he straightened out his fedora.

“Okay, okay.  I’ll see you down there!” she tripped on her desk with some of the office supplies.


The police station consisted of three different departments.  The top floor was headquarters for Homeland Security, the second floor was the ‘Deadlock’ department, otherwise known as Anarchy Control, and the bottom floor belonged to the Private Investigation Bureau.  In the corner of the bottom floor were several interrogation rooms.  The rooms themselves were small, blue brick compartment-like storages, furnished with a single hanging lamp and several metal chairs accompanying a table.

The mutant that was shot and captured earlier was handcuffed to the table.  His wounds were only minor due to his sped up healing, leaving only one enormous bandage covering what use to be his hand.  Deadlock entered the interrogation room and sat in a chair opposing the suspect’s.  He looked all around the room, jerking his head to each corner in a sarcastic fashion to sort of mock the mutant.

Quietly, he heard a voice in his head, “Find out where the mutant came from.  His answer will lead to more…”

“So, how did you end up all like that?” Deadlock asked the mutant.

“Like hell if I’m going to tell you.”

The voice spoke again, “Get the answer.”

Detective Deadlock thought recklessly.  He grabbed the mutant’s head and slammed it on the table.  “Tell me where you got these mutations, now!”

“Go to hell!”

“More intimidation.”

Detective Deadlock stood up from the chair and headed directly to the door.  The mutant looked at him in shock.

“So is that it!?  You bash my skull and just leave?!” the mutant shouted.

Deadlock paused before leaving.  In a heartbeat, he pulled out his handgun from his holster and pressed it against the mutant’s head.  In fear, the mutant stumbled back into the corner of the room, dragging the metal table with him and knocking over the chair.

“This isn’t the 21st Century, scumbag!  With your mutations you are not getting any trial!  The person who mutated you not only corrupted you with power, but also took away your future!  The people of each neighborhood take one look at you and then you have CC Military crawling up in your business.  You either tell me who mutated you or I’ll save the military’s trouble by just ending it right now!” Deadlock shouted.

“Okay! Okay!  I got the mutation from a guy named Alexander!  They called him Big Al!  I never actually met the man in person, I just got the injections from one of his contacts!  I swear I don’t know where he is!” the mutant shouted back in pure fear.

“Alright.  The guys here will take you to the hospital to pick at your mutations.  Afterwards you should probably see a therapist…or a bartender…or both…” Deadlock holstered his gun, “Thank you for the info.  Have a nice day!” Deadlock waved back at the mutant as he left the interrogation room.

After closing the door, he was faced with an impressed Winston and a completely shocked Annika.  They stayed silent as Deadlock sighed and stared back at the mutant through the one-way glass.

“Wait was that it?” Annika asked.

“Yep,” the detective shuffled his collar, “Al, anything on this guy?” Deadlock asked Winston.

“I’ll check the data files.  I do remember someone ran an operation with him near East Road.  Maybe you can take the rookie out for her first run,” Winston smiled.

“Sure, sure.  East Road is halfway across the city, maybe I can cover a few more things with her.”

Annika and Deadlock shared glances.  Winston entered the interrogation room with the mutant while the other two went off to East Road.  The rain was still pouring outside, the signature weather of the city.  There was barely any traffic that day on the highways.  Annika looked away from the detective, trying to avoid conversation.

“So.  Tell me a bit about yourself,” Deadlock spoke up.

“O-Oh, um.  I…what did you want me to tell you?” Annika asked.

“Where are you from, family, how’d you make it into Anarchy Control?”

“I…I’m from Province 62, my mother and father were killed in the 62 Bombing.  Terrorists struck the city, so I moved here with my brothers hoping to find a new start.  I graduated from this city’s academy about a few months ago, I went into Anarchy Control because they had good detectives and officers like you-“

Annika was interrupted by Deadlock hitting the brakes.

“Listen, newbie.  I’m not the best teacher, I’m not the best older brother or father-figure or whatever you look up to me to be as.  I’m sorry if I’m flat out rude or do things recklessly.  Just warning you now, I will stop at nothing to get the bad guys off these streets and to keep the city safe, alright?”  Deadlock looked at her as she nodded back.  “One more thing, what was the weapon the academy assigned to you?”  he asked as he began driving again.

Graduates of Cohld City Police Academies are assigned weapons designed on three factors: their mental state, accuracy, and their final score on their graduating test.  These weapons consisted of tazers, magnum revolvers, handguns, and in extremely rare cases; a fully automatic PDW (Personal Defense Weapon).  Deadlock’s score had exceeded most other police officers and he had received a prestigious revolver passed down from the former detective he had replaced.

“I was assigned a tazer, sir.”  Annika revealed a battery-charged electrical disperser.

“Was the test really that difficult?” Deadlock rolled his eyes.

“With all do respect, sir, it’s not easy for everyone…” Annika put away her tazer in a smaller holster similar to Deadlock’s under her arm in her gray coat.

“No worries, I’ll look out for you as long as you have my back,” the detective cracked a smile.

“Right turn.  Alexander is right around the corner,”  the ominous voice spoke in the back of Deadlock’s head.

He made an aggressive right turn just barely dodging a taxi cab and sliding along the rainy asphalt.  Annika held onto her armrest trying to keep her head in place.

Deadlock turned to Memoir Street, twenty miles away from East Road.  This area of the city was known for being incredibly worn down and left to be a dump, a perfect place for gang activity.

“Building to our left.  First floor.”

“Sir?  What are we doing here?” Annika asked.

“Al is in this building, we’re going to pay him a visit,” Deadlock smiled.

“How are you so sure?  Sir, the mutant didn’t tell us he’d be here!” the rookie said worriedly.

“If you want to stay here you can, just call for backup the minute you hear gunshots.  Keep your eyes open, this might be your first firefight!” Deadlock got out of his car and rushed into the building, his revolver at hand.


The detective kicked down the door to a worn down brick building.  The wooden floors rotted from its bright brown color to a light decaying gray.  Deadlock wiped the brim of his fedora and straightened it out.  His eyes scanned around the living room; everything looked usual for a derelict of an apartment.  Toppled over dining room tables, a rotting couch, rats and rodents scurrying across the floor; everything was what normal would be.

Deadlock sighed.  He had realized that he was getting careless with his work.  His ambition always counteracted his professionalism.  The entire department knew that, they knew he had to be looked after.  The detective acknowledged this fact, it didn’t help to realize that he had left his new rookie in the car outside without even informing her of the detour.

“Are you going to keep bashing at yourself?” the voice inquired.

“I knew there was more to this.  Who are you and what are you doing inside my head?” Deadlock asked calmly.

A few old papers rustled in from the kitchen of the bottom floor.  Deadlock kept his eye on them, but turned away as soon as he heard footsteps behind him.  Nothing.  When he turned back, he was faced with a taller man in a black suit with a dark blue tie.  His eyes were a shining gold and his hair a distinct combination of black and gray.  Deadlock stared for a moment, memorizing his face and its structure, how his posture was, and even managed to get a hint of his emotion.  Doing so allowed him to track this man again anywhere among crowds of people.

“I’m someone sent to keep an eye on someone like you.  You are in no means in any trouble, but, my superiors required me to keep constant checkups on you.  Do not be alarmed, I’d rather assist than hinder,” the man said in a slow, monotone voice.

“What’s your name?  How did you get into my head?” the detective aimed his handgun at the mysterious man.

“My name, well, isn’t really important.  I am a friend.  As I said before, I am only here to observe.  If you really must need a name, you may call me Detective R.”

“Which police department do you serve?  Why am I even talking to you!” Deadlock holstered his gun and rushed to the door.

“I only serve the greater good.  Whoever the superior is..  Now, the superiors are taking your favor.  The foe known as Alexander is located on East Road talking to one of your police officers.  If you request any assistance at all, feel free to ask me when you do happen to notice.  Good luck.”

Deadlock rushed out the front door and back into his car.  Annika was asleep leaning next to the passenger door.  The detective smiled as he put on his seat belt and started the engine.  His assumed to be hallucination claimed that Al was at East Road at this instant so he sped up his car.

Annika slowly awoke after one of the turns, “Huh? What’s going on?”

“Thanks for listening for any gunshots.  Next time fill up on some caffeine or something, can’t have you sleeping on the job,” Deadlock explained as he focused on driving.

“I’m sorry, sir.  I didn’t get any sleep last night.  My first day on the job, not to mention one of the most dangerous, it makes you lose some Zs,” the rookie rubbed her eyes.

“Well, might wanna hold on tight.  Speeding plus rain does not equal smooth driving,” he said as his car slid across the shining asphalt of the road.

“Get your tazer ready.  There might be some surprises ahead,” Deadlock warned as he activated his car’s police sirens.

In a matter of three minutes, Detective Deadlock had dodged traffic and sped through stoplights reaching East Road.  He slowed down and turned off the sirens as soon as he saw several men unloading a truckload of wooden crates into a warehouse.  The detective turned a corner and parked.  He and the rookie got out and peeked around the corner of a concrete building.

“See anything out of the ordinary?” Deadlock asked.

“Not something too noticeable, sir.  What am I suppose to be looking for?” Annika inquired.

“Didn’t the academy teach you anything?” Deadlock sighed, “Look at what those guys are unloading.”

Annika noticed the crates were unmarked.  One of the men tripped and dropped one of the boxes.  The top fell open revealing multiple machine guns and rifles.

“There are no military outposts here.  Get your tazer ready and make sure they don’t get a shot on you,” Deadlock hid his magnum in his trench coat’s side pocket.

The two CCPD officers approached the three men.  Two were bald, well-built men while the third was a scrawny-looking, long haired teenager.  One of the bald men picked up a rifle the minute he noticed Deadlock.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Deadlock spoke softly.

“Is there a problem, officer?” the teenager noticed Annika’s police badge on her belt.

“May we ask what you’re loading here?”

“Just some…stage props, you know, musicals and plays and stuff like that,” the other bald man explained.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if we just took a look, right?” Deadlock reached for one of the rifles from the opened crate.

The first man revealed the rifle and aimed it directly at the officers and prepared to fire.

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