Serve and Protect

Chapter 4

Chief Angella Brightmoon paced the length of her office with her phone pressed to her ear.

"I understand," she said. "Thank you, Mermista. Please keep me posted on his condition."

She hung up with a sigh, and placed the phone gently on her desk. In truth, she wanted to throw it — she wanted to hurl it across the room and watch it shatter against the wall. But an outburst like that wouldn't help her. It wouldn't help the precinct she was trying to run, and it certainly wouldn't help her undercover officer, laid up and barely stable in the hospital's ICU.

So, instead of throwing her phone, Angella took a breath. She laid her palms against the smooth surface of her desk and dropped her head. Her long hair slid forward, framing her face like a curtain that hid her frustration and exhaustion from the world.

In the privacy of her own mind, Angella felt as though the walls were closing in. Dismantling the most dangerous gang in Etheria was her life's work. But after years of chasing after the Horde, she felt further away from that goal than she had as a fresh-faced beat cop.

Nothing she did seemed to make a difference. For every raid her officers planned, the gang always seemed to be one step ahead. If she planted an undercover officer within their ranks, the gang inevitably found them out. For every investigation she launched, her witnesses and informants either vanished or wound up dead before she could make any progress. Bringing the Horde down was a noble cause, but the stakes had never been higher. And now, with one of her best undercover officers clinging to life, Chief Angella Brightmoon couldn't help but wonder if this was all worth it.

She sank into her chair, crushed under the elephantine weight of her mission, and flipped open the folder on her desk. Inside she found the photos of Detective Seahawk's injuries. He had sustained a brutal beating, and the result was a nightmarish mix of split flesh and fresh blood, deep bruises and missing teeth. Somehow he had survived, and what's more, he hadn't blown his cover either. Angella forced herself to stare at the carnage until all of her doubts subsided.

This was the kind of horror that came naturally to the Horde. She knew this — she had witnessed it first hand. The only way to stop it was to put an end to the gang once and for all. Angella couldn't stop now. So she added Detective Seahawk to her long list of reasons to keep fighting, and closed the folder.

As she slid the folder into her filing cabinet, a knock sounded at Angella's door.

"Come in," she called.

The door opened to reveal one of her officers, his hulking figure filling the doorframe. He stood with his uniform jacket draped over his forearm.

"Sargeant Lashor," Angella said, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. "Are you heading home? I thought you'd be gone by now."

"I was on my way, ma'am," the sergeant replied gruffly. "But I ran into these two in the parking lot." He stepped aside and Angella sighed.

"Thanks, Sarge," quipped Glimmer, Angella's only child, as she breezed into the office. "We've got it from here." Glimmer's best friend, Bow, hurried in behind her. Sergeant Lashor raised an eyebrow at his superior officer, who waved him off.

"Have a lovely evening, Sergeant," she said. "I'll see you at the briefing meeting in the morning."

Once the sergeant took his leave, Angella turned her attention to her daughter. "Glimmer, what are you—"

"How is he, Mom?" Glimmer said, cutting her off. "Is Seahawk going to be okay?"

Angella jerked back with surprise. "How did you know about that?"