“One more clip. Officers, safeties’ on, reload.”

 

The blue-uniformed rookies shivered happily at being addressed as “officers”, even though none of them had earned their badge yet, but they didn’t let this distract them from carrying out the command. If there was one thing they had learned since enrolling for the extra schooling required for being a police officer, it was not to let something distract you, especially during a gunfight. And no one hammered this lesson into their heads than Inferna, chief of the armory.

 

The female instructor, her blue eyes flashing, paced back and forth behind the line like a rock lion; some of them imagined them breathing down their necks, though her entire focus was on their hands and on the semi-automatic handguns they were reloading.

 

Apparently satisfied with their reload, she barked out the next command: “Safeties’ off, take your mark. You may fire when ready.”

 

The sound of gunfire – blunted by the ear protection they all had put on beforehand – roared out again as the dozen or so recruits took shots with the clip they had just loaded, aiming at the paper targets at the other end of the range. Throughout the ten seconds or so it took for all of them to empty their magazines, Inferna’s eyes never slowed or stopped, flicking to each somewhat shaky pair of hands that aimed.

 

Each recruit felt her gaze, but they forced themselves to ignore her and concentrate. Out of all their teachers, she probably had the most influence over whether or not you got the badge: if she thought you weren’t ready for the job, the recruit in question usually didn’t graduate from training with their class. After all, her part of the training had a lot to do with how well you would function on duty; if she wasn’t satisfied with your performance, there was a slim chance you would last very long on the force.

 

“Safeties’ on, stand down!”

 

Her tone with this command indicated that this session was over, and that the recruits were to clean and return the guns. They did so under the watchful eyes of her two assistants, even as she took down the hole-ridden targets and labeled them, so she could access each recruit’s skill.

 

As the rookies filed away from the range and Inferna reclaimed the firearms, one of them – a female named Shirri – asked her, “Can you really curve a bullet?”

 

Inferna pretended to not have heard the question for two beats, then whirled around and with one smooth motion, unholstered her own handgun, swung it up to shoulder level, and fired off a shot, aiming at a new target she had set up.

 

There was a wooden beam standing between the barrel and the target, but amazingly, the slug curved around the barrier to strike the target dead-center.

 

An admiring gasp overtook the class, but as she turned around and put away her gun, she ignored them and focused on wide-eyed Shirri. “Yes, but it takes too much luck to make it worth trying to attain.”

 

XxX

 

After the recruits were sent on their way – and after she had gotten in her own target practice (using some kick*** guns that had been shipped to her the night before) – Inferna settled down behind her desk in the armory. It was here that every non-personal piece of arms and armor – from the standard-issue handguns to the stuff the SWAT team used (and then beyond that, too – she personally knew that one of the well-guarded lockers down here carried some heavy artillery) – was stored, under her domain and loaned out to the entire force if they were needed (literally loaned in most cases: she had footed the bill for most of the hardware here. Coming from a wealthy family and inheriting a fortune helped).

 

Before getting to work on assessing the recruits, she opened a shallow top-drawer and popped a hazelnut chocolate into her mouth. She tended to need a pick-me-up after a class, and she kept this store for that purpose – or really, any time she needed a chocolate fix.

 

Things were getting rather bewildering these days. Five murders in one night wasn’t that out-of-place, especially in a city like New Aukini, but the perps in the latest case were definitely the strangest ones she had heard of in a report. From other sources, she’d also heard that the mayor had hired some out-of-town super-naturalist to deal with this new development. The idea made her roll her eyes. While she made a few allowances in her own beliefs about the existence of the paranormal, she felt they were just dealing with a new brand of criminal. What were the odds these people were vampires, like they had been described to resemble?

 

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Swallowing the last of the chocolate, she reached over and picked up. “This is Inferna. What is it, Chief?”

 

“How’d you know it was me?”

 

“You’re the only one that bothers to call; everyone else just comes down the stairs.” As the Chief recovered from this, Inferna continued on, now serious. “You never call unless it’s important, though. What is it this time?”

 

“You’ve heard the rumors, I assume?”

 

“It’s the talk of New Aukini. I’ve heard at least six versions of the story already, each more outlandish than the last.”

 

“The guy the mayor’s hired to deal with this is heading over; says he needs access to our resources, particularly our arms and armor. Apparently he – his name’s Dlakii, by the way – has some idea on how to catch them, but I’ll be darned if I knew what it involved. Just know that he needs your help in this. Make sure that the armory is straightened up.”

 

Inferna raised an eyebrow – even though he couldn’t see it – as she looked around at the (mostly) tidy armory and her own desk. “Is that an implication that I don’t keep a clean office?”

 

“No, I –”

 

“It was a rhetorical question. I’ll be expecting him.”

 

Hanging up with a click, she glanced around, scoring targets completely forgotten. Her desk was fine – she made a point of clearing it up every Friday night before heading home – but the new guns she had practiced with earlier were yet to have a storage space.

 

Thankfully, homes were quickly found, and she was about to put away the last of them when she heard the metal doors at the top of the staircase open and close, footsteps coming down the 26 steps that spanned the divide between this room and the hall above.

 

She left the last one leaning against her desk. The bullets weren’t in it, and it was still on safety, but it gave the impression that she had just gotten in from the range.

 

Inferna glanced over her shoulder as the stranger came into view. He was roughly her height (it was just a rough estimate – it wasn’t like she was gonna demand his height), wearing a black suit of some kind. While he wasn’t the most physically imposing person she’d met, he did seem like someone that held positions of authority often; someone that shouldn’t be crossed.

 

“You’re Dlakii, aren’t you?” she asked, her eyebrow raised again. “Chief said you might be coming down here.” When a silence followed, she added, “I’m Inferna, the police armorer.”

 

Silence again. This guy just didn’t do small talk. Sighing in her head, she wheeled to face him, getting serious herself. “I was told you need me for something, but I got few specifics. What services am I performing in this assignment?”

 

“You will be required to provided armament and equipment for me and my team, and assist us in using it in the field,” he replied, voice tone confirming her suspicions: he was a guy that was used to giving orders. The assignment was one that she normally didn’t get: she usually just had her desk job; she didn’t usually head out into the field unless she was needed there. This satisfied her. Now, just to meet the team . . .

 

More clatters came down the stairs, and Inferna frowned as she peered around Dlakii. “Speaking of the team, is that them

now?” she asked, pointing up the flight.

 

Dlakii turned to see two other officers – one dark-red, the other blue – coming down into the armory. Both had at look Inferna normally associated with videogame addicts in their eyes.

 

“Er . . . I hope not.”

 

This confirmed her other suspicion: This was going to be a long day.