Family Business Date: September 4th, 2031 Time: 10:00 PM Location: Avery's apartment, Hell's Kitchen Characters: Ben Locke, Avery Jones Description: Come into my parlour Status/Rating: Private, in progress, R for violence
Locke sat in Avery's kitchen, a quiet sense of cold fury boiling in his gut as he waited. The trap had been set, all that was required now was for its intended prey to walk into it.
The deputy station chief of the Department of Metaphysical Security was many things. He was a hard man, yes, he could be cruel at times, even. He knew that his anger needed a firmer leash, and perhaps, his opinion of magic wasn't entirely fair to those who used it, a case in point being the agent whose apartment he was currently lingering in.
But he cared about his people. He would, and had, gone to the wire for them in the past. Seeing them intimidated, abused, threatened like this gave him the kind of rage that people write about. Locke would brook no insubordination from his people, sure, but he would also never stand for them being debased in such a manner.
He checked his weapon for the fifth time, fully expecting to use it if things went even slightly sideways this evening. A message had to be sent to those who thought they could attack his men and women like this, and he would be the one to deliver it, tonight.
Secretly, though, he was concerned that this was happening again. He'd had agents leaned on in the past - those who might have been in hock to their bookies, or who had made bad choices on the way. This wasn't Jones's fault - she had defended herself, even though he now had a secondary concern about her control over her abilities that he would have to address - but it seemed that certain elements of the Awoken still hadn't gotten the message. The DMS wasn't just a new thing, any more. It was an institution of law, of government and of the rule of decency.
Had they done this to themselves? Maybe. He knew that he had elements who went over the line. Hell, he'd trampled over it himself in the past. But he liked to think that they were an overall force for good.
Locke banished those thoughts as soon as he had them. He needed to focus. Snipers were positioned in the opposite building, and Youngs was in the bedroom. Jones was in her living room. As soon as they entered, Petersen, now fully recovered from his injuries, would cover the door, and then they would see how they fared when they weren't picking on one traumatised agent.