Post by Lovino Vargas on Sept 30, 2014 21:29:39 GMT -8
Never before had Lovino been quite as torn about a mission as he was now, sneaking around a rundown apartment complex in one of the more notorious parts of town. Although the place was usually full of ruckus, this early in the morning it was quiet enough for the Italian to hear his heart beat with every step he took. He was both excited and wary, both content and angry. This mission filled him with so many conflicting emotions that if he hadn’t known it to be suicide, he would have just screamed out in annoyance. Alas, he just kept his posture straight, double-checked he had a gun and edged after the goons he had been following all morning, trying not to let his gaze wander.
But, as he soon came to realize, keeping his eyes off the walls and the half-destroyed nameplates hanging from the doors was more difficult a task than he had imagined.
This was the first time he had set foot into a hellhole of this caliber, and so curiosity alone dictated he’d look around while he was there. It was a train-wreck effect, you could say. It was strange though; on one hand watching the shitty, rotting apartments from this close by made him realize his own apartment wasn’t that bad in comparison, even with his landlord being a total assnugget and his neighbours competing over who had the shittiest taste in music at 3 AM every goddamn night. At least his hallways weren’t molded over or splattered with blood, spit and whatever other substance the people living there had decided to excrete on the walls. His ceiling wasn’t in danger of falling on top of him, and he didn’t have to fear someone coming to stab him in his fucking sleep every hour of the night. Really, whoever said there was no joy that could be found in others’ misery had had no damn clue of what he was talking about. Watching the mess made him feel better about himself, cruel as it might sound.
But on the other hand, the more compassionate part of him (yes, he did have one, thank you very much) couldn’t help but be angry in the residents’ stead. Not only did they have to suffer from shitty living conditions, these criminal assholes kept using their neighbourhood as their base for various ends. Drug dealing in particular was pretty popular among these parts, and Lovino couldn’t help but understand why; with nothing else to look forward to in life, was it really a surprise so many of these desperate people turned to drugs – or drug dealing to get some pocket money? Really, he would have probably done it too. Freaking criminal bastards were taking advantage of these miserable people and it pissed him off.
Which kind of brought everything back to Lovino’s reason for being there in the first place. It was a pretty simple deal, really. The police department had received hints of illegal drugs being housed and sold in one of the buildings in the area. Their contact had hit them up with the address of one definite client who they’d need to follow to the scene and then catch the bunch red-handed and confiscate the drugs. Usually, officers headed into these sorts of things in pairs at the very least, true, but Lovino had felt like he could tackle this one alone. Anyone else tagging along would have either gotten in his way or stolen all the credit from him. No, it was important he did this alone and proved himself. And that was why there was nobody walking beside him now; he had sneaked out to complete the mission on his own.
Granted, this job wasn’t the most important ever but damn it, this was the biggest and most important he had since he joined the force, and he was damn excited about it. No more catching animals or running after shoplifters for him. If he could pull this off, he’d be sure to get a raise or a promotion – probably both. All he’d need to do was follow, jump in and point his gun at the people, possibly with threats of backup arriving and sniping their ass. These were supposed to be kids. What was the worst that could happen?
As much as Lovino would have liked to say he tackled the mission with absolute confidence though, he couldn’t. He was nervous, afraid, and his hands kept sweating no matter how many times he swiped them clean. He knew what happened to cops caught snooping around all too well, and in a place like this where crime mingled with people’s everyday life, he couldn’t exactly trust anyone; he had to jump and hide at the sight of any person walking towards him, no matter their age, gender or level of drunkenness. After every three steps he took, Lovino had to turn to glance behind his shoulders to see if he was being followed, and every single sound he heard made him alert and twitchy. Kids or not, he did not want to get caught prematurely.
All he had to do to calm himself down though, was to remind himself that this wasn’t exactly the biggest arrest in centuries. This was your average day of work in the drug prevention scene. Officers did stuff like this all the time, and most of them survived. He had tagged along with some senior officers on stuff like this before. No biggie. Standard stuff. Besides, it wasn’t like these were any professionals he was dealing with. Best case scenario, they didn’t even carry guns. They were just kids playing criminal. He was wearing civilian clothes too. Wasn’t like someone seeing him was an instant death-sentence.
…
Or so he had thought.
“Police! You’re under arrest, hands where I can-“
You know, right up until he had followed the goon he was supposed to, jumped in to get the arresting done with… and noticed these were no kids he was dealing with. These were foreign, adult men, all looking at him with confused, irritated looks. And what stood on the table behind them, just barely within Lovino’s field of vision and ready to be sold was something so much worse than any drug; weapons. Missile cases. Grenades. Fucking hardcore shit. These people weren’t drug dealing kids; they were adult terrorists, and either their contact had known this and planned to get him caught, the guy really needed to check his sources, or he was a fucking moron.
“… Shit.”
In any case, Lovino didn’t want anything to do with this whole deal anymore. This stopped being a standard run of the mill mission two seconds ago. Getting caught would indeed be an instant death sentence.
And guess who just jumped in to declare his presence all loud and clear for everyone in the room to hear?
That’s right; officer Lovino “Romano” Vargas, a fucking dead man walking.
But, as he soon came to realize, keeping his eyes off the walls and the half-destroyed nameplates hanging from the doors was more difficult a task than he had imagined.
This was the first time he had set foot into a hellhole of this caliber, and so curiosity alone dictated he’d look around while he was there. It was a train-wreck effect, you could say. It was strange though; on one hand watching the shitty, rotting apartments from this close by made him realize his own apartment wasn’t that bad in comparison, even with his landlord being a total assnugget and his neighbours competing over who had the shittiest taste in music at 3 AM every goddamn night. At least his hallways weren’t molded over or splattered with blood, spit and whatever other substance the people living there had decided to excrete on the walls. His ceiling wasn’t in danger of falling on top of him, and he didn’t have to fear someone coming to stab him in his fucking sleep every hour of the night. Really, whoever said there was no joy that could be found in others’ misery had had no damn clue of what he was talking about. Watching the mess made him feel better about himself, cruel as it might sound.
But on the other hand, the more compassionate part of him (yes, he did have one, thank you very much) couldn’t help but be angry in the residents’ stead. Not only did they have to suffer from shitty living conditions, these criminal assholes kept using their neighbourhood as their base for various ends. Drug dealing in particular was pretty popular among these parts, and Lovino couldn’t help but understand why; with nothing else to look forward to in life, was it really a surprise so many of these desperate people turned to drugs – or drug dealing to get some pocket money? Really, he would have probably done it too. Freaking criminal bastards were taking advantage of these miserable people and it pissed him off.
Which kind of brought everything back to Lovino’s reason for being there in the first place. It was a pretty simple deal, really. The police department had received hints of illegal drugs being housed and sold in one of the buildings in the area. Their contact had hit them up with the address of one definite client who they’d need to follow to the scene and then catch the bunch red-handed and confiscate the drugs. Usually, officers headed into these sorts of things in pairs at the very least, true, but Lovino had felt like he could tackle this one alone. Anyone else tagging along would have either gotten in his way or stolen all the credit from him. No, it was important he did this alone and proved himself. And that was why there was nobody walking beside him now; he had sneaked out to complete the mission on his own.
Granted, this job wasn’t the most important ever but damn it, this was the biggest and most important he had since he joined the force, and he was damn excited about it. No more catching animals or running after shoplifters for him. If he could pull this off, he’d be sure to get a raise or a promotion – probably both. All he’d need to do was follow, jump in and point his gun at the people, possibly with threats of backup arriving and sniping their ass. These were supposed to be kids. What was the worst that could happen?
As much as Lovino would have liked to say he tackled the mission with absolute confidence though, he couldn’t. He was nervous, afraid, and his hands kept sweating no matter how many times he swiped them clean. He knew what happened to cops caught snooping around all too well, and in a place like this where crime mingled with people’s everyday life, he couldn’t exactly trust anyone; he had to jump and hide at the sight of any person walking towards him, no matter their age, gender or level of drunkenness. After every three steps he took, Lovino had to turn to glance behind his shoulders to see if he was being followed, and every single sound he heard made him alert and twitchy. Kids or not, he did not want to get caught prematurely.
All he had to do to calm himself down though, was to remind himself that this wasn’t exactly the biggest arrest in centuries. This was your average day of work in the drug prevention scene. Officers did stuff like this all the time, and most of them survived. He had tagged along with some senior officers on stuff like this before. No biggie. Standard stuff. Besides, it wasn’t like these were any professionals he was dealing with. Best case scenario, they didn’t even carry guns. They were just kids playing criminal. He was wearing civilian clothes too. Wasn’t like someone seeing him was an instant death-sentence.
…
Or so he had thought.
“Police! You’re under arrest, hands where I can-“
You know, right up until he had followed the goon he was supposed to, jumped in to get the arresting done with… and noticed these were no kids he was dealing with. These were foreign, adult men, all looking at him with confused, irritated looks. And what stood on the table behind them, just barely within Lovino’s field of vision and ready to be sold was something so much worse than any drug; weapons. Missile cases. Grenades. Fucking hardcore shit. These people weren’t drug dealing kids; they were adult terrorists, and either their contact had known this and planned to get him caught, the guy really needed to check his sources, or he was a fucking moron.
“… Shit.”
In any case, Lovino didn’t want anything to do with this whole deal anymore. This stopped being a standard run of the mill mission two seconds ago. Getting caught would indeed be an instant death sentence.
And guess who just jumped in to declare his presence all loud and clear for everyone in the room to hear?
That’s right; officer Lovino “Romano” Vargas, a fucking dead man walking.
