Sally's Story: Devils Den

	The trio of officers dove for cover in a side tunnel as the chatter of gunfire grew and crescendoed, chips and puffs of concrete pelting them in the face as they hunkered down. Sean, the lead officer, peered around the corner as the gunfire picked up again and chased him back.
	“Bastards have a bead on us,” he said, squirming away from the edge. “We’re stuck here until either they run out of bullets, which I doubt will happen way they’re shooting, they charge us, or we charge them. Take your pick, *detective*.” Sally began to pant, the growing lump of indecision in her chest and the silence following each hellish blast shaking her. She’d been given a gun *today*, for goodness’ sake, and was now about to use it in anger. Coiling into a ball she ached for something to do, the two officers looking at her expectantly for instruction as she racked her brain in thought. The smart thing to do would be to hold up and call for backup but, clicking the radio repeatedly, she found that to be an impossibility. Were she to get back to the open manhole entrance, though, there was a chance. And a chance was all that was needed.
	“Sean, I need you to run across to the far wall, adjacent to the opposite tunnel entrance. I’ll cover you from there, okay?” Tactical subroutines raced through her mind as she dashed to a peeping position before pouring fire into the opposite tunnel entrance, fragments of brick and mortar flying into the air as the metallic whip crack of ricochets echoed in the tunnels. Breathing deep the officer charged across the open ground, a hail of gunfire following him to the opposite wall.
	“FUCK,” he screamed tumbling forward, his body thudding against the wall.
	“Sean!”
	“I’m hit man,” he panted. “Fuck me, this is bad…” The young officer started, ready to jump across the void to his wounded partner, but Sally stopped him with her arm. Handing him the radio she nodded towards the manhole cover, swapping her sidearm for his shotgun. Breathing deeply she flung herself into that same darkness and rolled against the far wall, another flurry of bullets cascading after her. Two rounds lodged into her torso as another tore across her chest, puffs of aramid fiber drifting in the air as she hugged the wall. Clem scurried towards the manhole cover as Sally put a trio of disciplined blasts down the gaping tunnel to her left, a pair of yelps and groans sounding out as the guns went quiet.
	“Officer are you alright?”
	“The hell you think you damn thing,” he sputtered. Clutching his side he shimmied up the wall, a growing pool of crimson gathering beneath him. “I’m screwed, don’t have long before I… conk out… Make sure you clear out that tunnel - Clem’ll handle the radio…” His breath shallowing the officer slid his service pistol to the robot before slumping backwards, pausing to take each ragged breath at a time. Slipping the bloody revolver in her jacket pocket, she crept to the corner of the tunnel. Better instinct told her to wait for the second officer to return with help to clear the passage, but the mewling moans from the blackness beyond told her it was now or never.
	“BEACON CITY PD,” she boomed, authority and synthetic adrenalin foisting her voice outwards. “Surrender now, you are outgunned!”
	“Fuck off pig!” A burst of rounds plinked off the corner as Sally ducked away again - there was only one voice, one *gun* more importantly, now. Peering down the tunnel she saw the other officer weaseling his way up the side tunnel, radio in hand. His voice echoed towards her, the stilted recital of memorized code numbers assuring her. Setting the shotgun against the wall, confident that backup was on the way, she slipped out of her suit jacket and shirt, tearing the button-up apart.
	“You’re going to be alright,” she stammered, hands slickening with blood as she began to dress the wound, hands squeezing and pressing as her patient gritted his teeth. Sterling nandroids were first-aid trained and it was showing, the robot pressing her knee into the man’s side as little rivulets of red cascaded into the fetid water beneath. The wail of sirens above and clattering of boots didn’t calm her any as she heard a soft footfall behind her.
	“Told you to leave, pig,” a voice slurred. Sally half turned to the savaged figure, before her, clothes dirty, bloodied. He twisted his handgun from her to her ward, Sally processing the shift as she dived forward to cover the officer. A shot rang out, thundering into her back as she covered the man. “Fucking robot.”
	Laughing, the man kicked the overturned android off of the officer and onto her back. Her power failing, she caught a glimpse of the spectacled figure, his narrow frame poking out of torn clothing and ripped jeans. His sun-kissed complexion was clouded in the dark, stooping over the robot to pat her down. A torrent of light slung down the tunnels, a half-dozen beams scattering along the walls and into the face of the man, his hands freezing in the copdroid’s pocket, her eyes fluttering in the light.
	“BCPD,” a mustachioed voice shouted. “Drop the weapon!”
	“Oh, fuck off,” he returned, words gluing together. “Thisisit, huh?” Bringing his gun to bear at the officers a hail of fire flew down the tunnel, zipping over the heads of the downed officers. Choking back a gurgle he collapsed backwards, the officers advancing quickly to retrieve him. Sally’s eyes darted around, slowing as her energy drained further. Staring at the stone ceiling of the tunnel, boots tramping past her and into the den beyond, Vincent locked eyes with her as he lifted her onto his shoulders. He was shouting commands, the vocal vibrations thrumming into her body in the absence of sound. Another officer was carrying the desperately wounded cop behind them as Sally drifted away. The tunnel was growing silent, darker too, muted of noise and light as she shut her eyes, their lights fading.