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Trapped are the Guilty

By Amy N Chan

Mystery / Other

Prologue

Lights flashed around the premises, bathing the entire scenery in an eerie glow that alternated between blue and red. Sirens had only died out moments ago, allowing for that terse, yet always present, silence after police had arrived at a crime scene.

"You stay back there," an officer ordered roughly, shutting his car door. As he cocked his gun, he ignored the pounding on the door of a frantic young woman, obviously angered by his callousness. However, he had no choice. The entire case was touch and go and this woman could have obviously been an accomplice.

How else would she have known what she claimed to?

The police officer shook his head. Now was not the time for such distracting thoughts. His vest was bullet-proofed and he was about to head into a brief strategical run-through with his colleagues. The suspect in the area was known to be armed and was known to have a very sick method of manipulation.

"…remember to assess the situation clearly when you enter," the chief stressed. "Our suspects will most likely be engaged in a battle of wits, and if you're not careful you will end up as one of their pawns against the other. Remain impartial and arrest both on the spot. Allow the judicial system to take it from there. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the team returned. Without any more ado about the affair, the group split off into pre-organized teams of two. Each partnership had two people which would complement the other, yet would not become compromised should they become separated or one of them injured. Such was the way of attempting to keep the police force safe as well as effective.

A certain pair of officers walked around, checking every nook and cranny for their possible suspects. The descriptions they had were sketchy at best. One man and one woman, hidden away from society in one of the most desolate—yet somehow completely sustained—areas conceived.

This was an underground bunker. A labyrinth of a bunker with twists and turns along the way, disguised in such a fashion as to confuse the one trapped within.

There was no idle chit-chatting between the two officers. They both knew a job had to be done and that it would be accomplished. They both needed to focus and were both excelling in that—

BANG!

The sound was nearby and the officers wasted no time in finding its source. Obviously a gunshot. Possibly a small pistol. The officers ran towards the noise, hoping that they were not too late.

Unfortunately, they were.

"Don't move!" one of the officers demanded, pointing his gun at the survivor. The other suspect lay on the floor, bleeding out and twitching as a cockroach does once dying. The remaining officer went to offer assistance to the dying. Perhaps this life could be spared in order to ascertain the entire truth of the matter. The survivor was somewhat preoccupied with inspecting themselves for injury to note the possible threat that came with the police being on-scene.

"How did you find us?" the survivor queried. The officer contemplated answering before deciding against it. Instead, he had a few questions to ask of his own.

"What happened here?" the officer demanded. His partner appeared to be having no luck with the blood and the other was fading very quickly. The survivor sighed and the officer trained his eyes on this person. As they appeared injured and nonthreatening, he decided it would be a better idea to cuff the poor sod than to keep pointing his gun at—

"If I allow you handcuff me and answer your question, will you answer mine?" the survivor pressed, eyes devoid of any deceit. Then again, when did the intellectually gifted ever let what was going on in their heads show through their eyes? Two hands were offered for handcuffing before the officer could give it much thought. This person was serious.

"Only until backup arrives. And then you will have to repeat your story to a court," the officer relented as he pulled out his own handcuffs. The survivor allowed their hands to be cuffed behind their back without a fight and then took a deep breath.

"This ordeal began three years ago with the death of Eugene Davis," the survivor began. "However, the more immediate causes to this scenario began three days prior to tonight…"

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