"At Least You've Got Your Gun.."

Andy Lee Tran returns to the Syndrome office he and his other two partners call, only to receive a heart jolting phone call. What have Normandy and Christopher gotten themselves into now?

Syndrome/Sindrome

Chapter 1: “At least you’ve got your gun..”

            The soft pitter patter of the rain outside was the only sound made in the seemingly empty office room. From the window in the office, one could easily take a glance outside and see the figures of pedestrians strolling about, all looking miniscule and tiny.

            And the quiet was soon broken when the office door slammed open, a damp, Vietnamese-Chinese-American teenager walking in. He was clutching a wet file folder against his side as he shuffled in. The automatic lights flicked on without hesitant, almost welcome him in the silence.

Fifteen-year-old Andy Lee Tran plopped himself down into his office chair without a word, his trademark scowl played out on his frost-bitten lips. He seemed crankier than usual and not just because his boss, Chief, made him walk halfway across town to grab one single file, walk all the way back to get chased down by a brown Chihuahua, find out that both his partners left on a recent kidnapping case and forget his office key. No, of course not.

            He took a deep breath, spinning around to his right side to reach open and pull open his black desk drawer.

“Good, she didn’t take anymore of mine..,” Andy muttered, pleased before taking out a cherry flavored lollipop. Pale fingers unwrapped the sugary sweet before popping it in his mouth, sighing.

Andy blew his raven hair out of his red eyes �" unnatural, aren’t they? Not really. Andy just wasn’t too fond of his brown eyes or glasses, so he subscribed for red contacts.

He jolted upright when his maroon colored cellphone vibrated in his skinny jeans’ pocket. Andy sat up, rolling up his maroon colored dress shirt sleeves before reaching into his pocket and answering it.

            “Yeah?” Came a half-hearted answer.

            “Andy, you t**d! Where are you?!” A panicked, feminine voice rang out from the other line, making the ravenette wince. Gunshots could be heard in the background.

            He held the phone away from his ear for a handful of seconds before placing it next to his ear again. “Calm down, Normandy-“

            “Calm down when my other partner isn’t here?! The hell?!” Her voice seemed angrier now �" Normandy’s.

            “Alright,” He paused, grabbing a pad and pen. “where are you and Chris..?”

            “14^th Street �" Glenn’s Avenue. Hurry your butt up! Sh- CHRI-“ The line hung up before Andy could put in another reply.

He shook his head, scribbling down the address before bounding out of his chair �" oh, wait.

“Tch, can’t forget this,” Grabbing his pistol out of his desk drawer again, Andy put it in the gun holster located on his belt.

            “You’d better be alive, idiots,” Andy shook his head, twisting the office’s doorknob and pulling the door open before slamming it shut behind him.

The lights switched off, ushering the room back into silence again.

            “Get outta the way, Chris!” A petite brunette had just tackled her partner out of the way of a stray bullet. They landed on the ground and rolled quite a few ways away, behind a dumpster.

Both were breathing hard and worn out �" who knew that a mere kidnapping case would turn to a full-scale shootout?

            Normandy Nguyen brushed her brown bangs out of her eyes �" or, eye. One was shut, a trickle of crimson liquid drizzling down her left eye.

Christopher Lacey glanced at her, his headband disappeared somewhere.

            “You tired?” Muttered the blonde male, glancing behind the large dumpster before hastily turning back. His gun was gripped so hard in his hand that his knuckles turned white.

Normandy shook her head, smoothing out her odd attire �" a blue kimono that reached her knees. The sleeves were a tad long for her arms.

She cursed herself for losing her gun out there.

            “You need to rest. Let me borrow your gun,” Her hand was outstretched towards Chris, a determined glare in her eyes.

He looked at the gun before looking back at her. “No, you were inches away from, being s-“

            “I don’t care! Just go and get help,” The feisty brunette wouldn’t listen, her clipped hair becoming undone. She snatched the silver pistol, standing up slowly.

Heavy footsteps could be heard close-by.

            “Freaking burly turds.. eat bullets,” She glanced at Chris once more before hurrying out from behind the dumpster, only to have him stare at her back helplessly.

After all, it wasn’t his fault he was shot in the leg.

And, after all, no one stops Normandy when she’s on a rampage.

            “Hey, watch it!” A voice rang out through the crowd and rain as Andy ran past. He made the mistake of bumping into a most burly man, but didn’t have the time to stop and apologize.

He was making his way to the outskirts of Whimshare �" a more violent neighborhood.

That was one of the many things Syndrome took care of: robberies, kidnappings, you name it. Syndrome was a, you could say, ‘multi-tasking’ organization, aside from being a detective agency, they also kept peace in the city of Whimshare.

            The buildings and stores Andy ran past were all but gold, silver and gray blurs in his line of vision, making multiple turns and streets. He didn’t care who or what he bumped into. He just knew one thing �" ‘Get to them before either one of them does something stupid’.

Andy, you could say, was the most logical of the team of three. He often stepped in when irrational decisions were being made or someone offered to, oh, I don’t know, ‘Shove the kidnapper off a cliff!’.

            Chris often just ‘went-with-the-flow’, following whatever Andy or Normandy said. He was the more laidback of either of them, always smiling or grinning. He really didn’t enjoy the more violent jobs they were assigned to. You could say he was the ‘info man’, willing and ready, always sitting by his laptop in their office.

            Normandy, however, was unlike either of them. She was the spunky brunette �" the one who wanted the action of it all. She didn’t like drawing attention to herself, no. Normy �" as deemed to her by Chris �" just like the rush of the job, whether it be violent or not. When Chief usually came in with a job and neither Andy or Chris offered to take it, she’d be the first to jump up and head out the door.

            “Idiots,..” The raven haired teenager shook his water drenched hair, ‘tch’ing when he had to wait for a light to change so he could pass.

No big deal, he’d take a short cut.

            Being a Syndrome detective and having been on the job for at least a year, Andy knew the twists and turns of Whimshare like he knew his back hand (in the dark, too).

He took the quickest and first path that popped into his head �" east, Crainburg Ave.

            Squeezing himself through the crowd that had formed at the light �" which was probably malfunctioning, since it felt like an endless eternity that it hadn’t changed -, Andy hastily ran across a deserted street, running straight for a few seconds before swerving left �" a chain linked fence.

            “No big deal,” muttered the fifteen-year-old, slowing his running to hop onto a wet pile of plywood, most likely kept their (or thrown) from over the fence for the construction site that laid on the other side of said fence.

Thanks to the normal ‘chase downs’ and pursuits he had to deal with, it was no problem climbing up and over the fence. Andy hopped down into a small puddle with ease, paying no heed to his now wet black and white shoes.

            All that was left was to maneuver himself through this maze one would call a ‘construction site’ and he would be a couple blocks away from Glenn’s Avenue.

The rain was merciless through Andy’s running, pounding down on him like tiny bullets. Although, it’s not the first time he’s been hit by a bullet �" guess that’s why everyone at Syndrome had to have bulletproof attire underneath their usual clothes.

            Alas, Andy almost ends up slipping when he runs through the gates of the site, cursing loudly through the roaring of the rain �" yes, it was raining that hard.

But no amount of rain could ever distract Andy from what he witnessed when he made the turn out of the construction site:

Normandy had just gotten shot by one of the men she was pursuing.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Alright, chapter 1! Sorry if it's a tad short. :c Feel free to criticize and give me any suggestions on how to improve!

Reviews

[Juliet]

Not to short! I liked your use of detail and also, hehe I'm a freak about this, how you didn't just use the word said, I hate that! But you didn't which was good, your style is different from what people usually see here on writers cafe, I don't know how to put it... It's kinda like you use bigger words? Okay that sounded lame. Here I'll give an example, " Alas, Andy almost ends up slipping when he runs through the gates of the site" it sounds more proper, or something. I guess if I had to give you a tip, that maybe you should get into your characters heads more, how do they feel, what do they see, hear, smell, but you have most of that covered, crap now I'm rambling... Well whatevers, I like this a lot update soon!
Rawr!
J ;)