The stars in the night sky shone brightly over the city, their lights almost blending with the ones that were below. New York was like it's own galaxy, with flashing lights and spotlights taking the place of suns and solar systems. It truly was the city that never slept. From parties in nightclubs to restaurants filled with people, there was something for everyone in this city. It was never quiet, and the sounds of life were like a heartbeat for it.
But on some sides of town, the city life was beginning to wind down. At least, that's what Officer Walter Banks could see as his cruiser slowly drove through the empty streets. His route always took him right past New York Harbour, and at least he always got a good view of the Statue of Liberty out on the water, but God, was it boring. He saw the same exact buildings every night, and saw the same exact nothing every night as well.
Walter had taken this job on the force in order to make a difference in this city, and the pay wasn't too bad either. But all he'd done so far in his 3 months of police work was drive around at a slower pace than his grandmother, issue parking tickets, and do endless amounts of paperwork. It was boring as all hell. He thought being a cop in a place like New York would at least make for some funny stories, but so far the most interesting case he'd been on was when an old lady had somehow gotten her walker stuck up in a tree.
Sighing, he checked his clock that was on the dashboard. He still had two and a half hours before his shift was over, and he could finally get some sleep. A couple more rounds of his route, and he could pack it in for the night. He drove his cruiser at a steady 40 miles an hour, looking around for any sign of...well, anything.
Eventually, he made his way towards the yard in which they stored shipping containers. Walter always wondered what kind of stuff was in those things. Maybe some flatscreen TV's, couches, a few cars. What he wouldn't give to have any of those things in his crappy old apartment. He was barely paying rent as it was, what was a little luxury on the side? As he looked around, he was about to continue on his way, when something caught his eye.
Stopping the car, he looked back towards the shipping yard. There was no one at the toll box that was next to the small fence that separated the entrance from the road, seeing as how all of the workers had gone home for the night, but that was why Walter was so interested in what he was seeing. Squinting his eyes to get a better look in the darkness. Then, he finally confirmed what he saw moving around inside of the yard: flashlights.
Walter smiled to himself. He didn't care if they were workers who had forgotten their keys, or just some punk kids who had snuck out of home to spray paint some crates, he was finally able to actually do something for a change on his patrol. Turning on his lights, but not the siren since he didn't want to alert them, he picked up his radio. "Dispatch, this is car A-27 , over." A few seconds later, the scratchy voice of dispatch answered. "Car A-27, go ahead Walter."
He pressed the call button again. "Investigating mysterious activity down at New York Harbour. Probably just some kids who snuck in. Will update later, over." He paused, waiting for the go ahead from dispatch. Sure enough, the raspy voice came again. "Copy that, A-27, proceed with caution." Walter scoffed and put the radio down on the dashboard. Opening the car door, he shut it, then managed to make his way over the fence and started walking towards the lights. He didn't need caution. How bad could it possibly be?
As he walked through the maze of large containers, he turned on his flashlight, looking around for any sign of people who might be hiding here. He continued to walk towards the lights, and as he did, he began to hear something. Namely, voices. They weren't whispering, but he couldn't make out what they were saying since he was too far away. But he could tell that they were too deep to be kids voices.
Frowning, Walter got closer, walking towards a small clearing in the forest of containers. As he did, his eyes widened, and he instinctively hid behind one of the containers. Looking around it, he saw again what he had seen. It was more than just some kids. There were at least ten men in total, most of them wearing business suits, and more than one of them wielding large guns.
Walter chewed on his bottom lip in fear. Had he just stumbled onto some kind of mob deal? If that was the case, why were they meeting out here? He had no idea what was going on, but he had to find out. Peeking his head out again, he surveyed all of the men in the group. Four of the men were meeting in the middle. They looked to be two leaders, each with a personal bodyguard of sorts.
One man had long, silver hair that was tied up in a ponytail, and wearing a black suit with a red tie, that contrasted harshly with his pale skin. He had a triumphant smirk on his face. The other was a man wearing a blue vest and a white shirt that was slightly hunched over with ratty brown hair. On his suit, Walter could see what appeared to be black marks, that looked strangely like burns. Their bodyguards, a female for the pale man, and a male for the burned man, both were holding guns and looked deadly serious.
The man with the silver hair reached out his hand, shaking the burned mans hand. "Well, Cobb, I'm glad that we could finally come to an agreement." The man named Cobb looked up at the silver-haired man and growled slightly. "I had to go through a lot of trouble to get this to ya, so you better pay up, mate." Cobb had a slightly British accent, and a gravelly voice, as a contrast to the silver-haired man, whose voice was as silky smooth as velvet.
Cobb snapped his fingers, and one of the men who had been standing behind him walked forwards. He was a holding some sort of case that was the size and shape of a subwoofer, and looked just as heavy. However, the man was carrying it like it was nothing. He placed it in front of the silver-haired man, who then frowned and looked at Cobb. "Is it intact?" He asked, and Cobb's scowl grew deeper. "Does it bloody well look like it?" He said, motioning to the burns on his skin and clothes.
The silver-haired man smirked and then nodded. "Touché. Constance, darling, would you be a dear?" He said to the woman in a suit standing next to him, and the woman picked up the case without saying a word, easily lifting it and carrying it over to the silver-haired mans side of the clearing. Cobb looked up at the man. "Where's my end of the deal? Or are you gonna skimp out on me again like last time?"
Raising his hands, the silver-haired man laughed. "Cobb, please, let's not let our past disagreements get in the way, hmm?" A man in a suit walked forwards, holding a briefcase. He opened it up in front of Cobb, and both he and Walter gasped when they saw what was inside. There looked to be over a hundred diamonds inside, well over a million dollars. Cobb looked up at the silver-haired man, and then laughed. "Well, Mr. Redwing, you certainly don't disappoint."
Smiling, the man called Redwing nodded and placed his hand on Cobb's shoulder. "I knew I could count on you." Walter was shaking in his boots as he hid behind the container. He had no idea what to do in a situation like this. Those years of training had completely been wiped from his mind. He should call for backup, but by the time they got here, they would be gone. He had to do something now. So, he did the most stupid thing he could think of.
Drawing his gun out of his holster for the first time ever since he became an officer, Walter stepped out from behind the crate and aimed his pistol at Redwing. "FREEZE! NYPD, hands in the air!" He shouted as loud as he could, but his voice still cracked, and his gun was shaking in his hands as he aimed it at Redwing.
Redwing stared at Walter with a look of more annoyance then shock, then sighed and stared at Constance, the woman who had the case. "I thought I told you to make sure that this area was secure!" He said, and Constance shrugged. Walter didn't know why he wasn't scared, so he pointed his gun harder. "I said hands up!" He shouted louder, which made Redwing turn towards him.
Walter gulped and shrank under the stare that Redwing was giving him, and he pathetically added on to his sentence. "Please?" Redwing shook his head and laughed lowly, walking towards Walter until his gun was aimed point-blank at his face. "I'm sorry my friend...but you have no idea what you're dealing with." He raised one hand, and made a sort of flicking motion, like swatting a fly.
Suddenly, Walter found himself flying through the air, and landed hard on his back as he skidded across the concrete that made up the ground beneath him. His gun flew out of his hand and slid to a stop in the middle of the clearing. Getting up, badly hurt, Walter saw the gun and tried to reach for it. Redwing gestured to the weapon this time, and Walter watched in awe as it lit up into a bright red, and melted into a grey sludge.
Looking back at Redwing, Walter's entire face had gone as pale as his hair. Redwing looked down at him like a bug that needed to be squashed, and raised his hand. A ball of red energy began to form in his palm, growing to the size of a softball. "Such a waste." Redwing muttered, then he moved to throw it, as Walter shut his eyes tightly as he braced for his imminent death.
A large explosion appeared in front of him, and he could feel the heat across his face. But as Walter opened his eyes, he found he wasn't dead. Looking in front of him, there was a large golden seal floating in the air, covered in strange symbols and seemed to be made out of a sort of energy, acting as a shield. Crouched in front of him, and seemingly the producer of the shield, was a boy who couldn't be older than 20, with jet-black hair, wearing a black coat that pooled around his legs.
Looking back at Walter, the boy stared at him with his piercing green eyes. "I would run if I were you." He said, and Walter nodded, getting up and running away quickly, heading back towards his cruiser. While on his way there, he decided he would never mention this to anyone down at the station. Even if he did get up the courage to tell them what he had done, who would believe him about what he saw? He was just hoping that his dreams tonight were less surreal than this.
Redwing was more than a bit perturbed when the cop who he had just been about to kill had not only been protected, but had been protected by a boy who was very familiar to him. As the officer ran away, the boy stood up, the seal in front of him disappearing. Redwing crossed his arms. "Well...so the Order did get wind of our deal after all, eh Ridley?"
The boy, whose name was Ridley, looked up at Redwing, smiling a bit. "Preston Redwing. Not a magical deal goes down in this city without your involvement. Our counterparts in Europe managed to track your friend here down and traced his shipment back to us." He pointed to Cobb, making his eyes widen and Redwing turn towards him angrily. "You fool! You told me no one knew!" Cobb looked up at Redwing with a sheepish grin. "They were just some low-level Proctors, nothing to worry about-"
Grabbing Cobb with a supernatural force and lifting him up in the air, Redwing growled. "You IDIOT! I told you to notify me if the Order was even somewhat involved!" Cobb gulped as he looked down at Redwing. "B-But if I did, you would kill me!" Bringing him close to his face, Redwing spoke lowly. "That's the idea." His hands sparked with red energy, and Cobb screamed as he disintegrated in his hands.
Wiping his hands free of Cobb's ashes, Redwing turned his attention back to Ridley. "Apologies. I hate it when people are so unprofessional." Staring deep into Ridley's eyes, he crossed his arms. "You can tell your master that this deal is none of his concern." Ridley shook his head. "You must think I'm stupid, right? I know exactly what's in there, and if you're planning on unleashing it in this city, then it's exactly our concern."
Redwing sighed, shaking his head. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that." He looked around at his men, including Cobb's. "Kill him." Cocking their guns, the guards began to shoot at Ridley with a hail of bullets. Having seemingly lightning-fast reflexes, Ridley formed two seals around his fists, blocking the bullets much easier. Running towards one of the guards, he swept his legs, then uppercutted him in the jaw, knocking him on his back.
Using his seals to catch some of the bullets in midair, Ridley threw them back at Cobb's 3 men, neutralizing them instantly with only a few major injuries. One of the guards dropped his rifle, out of ammo. Then, suddenly, a fireball appeared in his right hand, and he threw it towards Ridley. Dodging it easily, Ridley ran towards the magic-user. Another fireball came streaking towards him, but this time he absorbed it and fired it back, blasting the guard into the side of a container, burn marks all over his chest. "Amateur." Ridley muttered.
Ridley felt bullets begin to fly towards him, and he quickly conjured a forcefield around himself, absorbing every single one of them, the guards walking closer. Once he had enough energy, Ridley smirked. "Let's wrap this up." He turned towards the guards and thrusted his hands outwards, creating a massive shockwave of energy that blasted all of the guards back, knocking them out.
Panting, Ridley surveyed the area, seeing all of them defeated. He heard a clapping from above him, and turned to see Redwing and Constance standing on top of a crate and clapping. "Bravo, Proctor, bravo indeed." Redwing said tauntingly. Ridley stared up at the two of them. "Word of advice, Preston. Arcane bullets are a good idea when facing Proctors, but not a good idea when they're turned against your own men."
Redwing gave a patronizing smile as he placed his hands behind his back. "I'll keep that in mind. But in the meantime, I must be going." Behind him, a portal of purple and blue energy appeared. "Till next time, Ridley." Redwing waved, then walked through the portal with Constance, who was carrying the case. Leaping upwards, Ridley tried to make it through the portal, but it closed before he could get there.
Standing alone in the middle of the shipping yard, Ridley sighed to himself. "Damn." He muttered. He was going to have to report that the case was still out there. But he would find it, and at least he now knew that Preston was involved. Looking back at the unconscious guards, he decided to leave them for the police in the morning. For now, he had more important work to do. Running across the tops of the containers, he went once again into the night, the lights of the city in the distance.