Olympus Union: Jeremy Hunter

Chapter One – Gang Strike

The delivery truck was escorted by an element from the ASA-Plex police. En route from Schorzman Pharmaceutical's secure storage facilities, the truck was heavily armored and full to the ceiling with palettes of Raylax. The drivers had already made two stops to distribute packages of the drug. So far the day had been uneventful, but it was growing late. There were many more stops to make before they headed home for the night.

Four cars full of officers escorted the truck, two in front of and two behind it. At each of the stops, four armed cops had escorted the palette’s delivery man into the building, while the four drivers remained in cars. Their weapons were cocked and held at the ready. If all went according to plan, there would be no incidents tonight if they could help it. Pharmacy robberies and truck heists had been all too common lately.

Tonight, all theft was safely warded off. Perhaps the show of force had scared off any considerations. Police officials had made no secret of the evening’s display of force. Tired of being made to look foolish by the gang raids, they had stepped up their game. In all honesty, the department’s ranking officials had hoped for some kind of action. If they could finally catch an attack with their eyes open, instead of pants down, it would go a long way towards reassuring the citizenry. This had been far too much to stomach. Egos were flying high at the thought that the display had caused the quiet night.

Jeremy Hunter remained skeptical. There hadn't been the slightest glimmer of resistance at the first stop. In fact, the pharmacy’s occupants all but completely cleared out when the police arrived with the armored truck. Residents scared off easily in that part of town, but this was ridiculous; it was nearly vacant. At the second, the people stuck around inside the store, but just looked on as the odd collection of men attended to their business and left. No trouble. That wasn't the norm. Not lately. There had been plenty of resistance so far. It seemed wrong.

Hunter quietly stalked the caravan from above, buckled into a modified one-man glider unit. The personal craft was exceedingly more of an industrial strength than the typical flimsy glider. Its wings were constructed of a reinforced amalgam, similar in construct to Kevlar. They were remarkably strong, with equal properties of stability and flexibility. They were collapsible, when necessary, as well.

He was strapped in more tightly than the typical hang glider. A form fitting harness positioned his back a mere six inches from the wing base, a two foot unit made of lightweight alloy. Utility pockets covered the torso portion of the hitch, giving him quick access to various articles of surveillance gear. Twin light engines positioned squarely at the back, propelled him through the skies. Automatic thrust modulation enabled graceful navigation of the intermittent winds that blew through the ASA-Plex.

Multi-frequency goggles protruded from Hunter’s helmet. The high-tech eyewear offered multiple views oscillating between infrared spectrum, macroscopic and digitized renderings. There was no fancy name applied to the little craft; he just referred to it as the glider. Still, the entire thing was painted hunter green, because Jeremy did have a subtle sense of humor.

Specialized mechanisms within the thrusters helped to keep the vigilante rather muted. The relative silence of the engines mirrored how quietly the delivery was proceeding. He’d checked heat signatures of the vehicles and found nothing out of the ordinary. Monitoring the area during each of the stops, he’d found no one overly suspicious. Despite the rash of numerous, recent Raylax thefts, this trip was turning out to be entirely unremarkable. The ease of the run, in of itself, made the whole situation rather remarkable, though. Jeremy was uneasy. He should be pleased, especially with the police involvement, but couldn’t shake an unsettling feeling.

This is too easy, he mumbled. It’s never this easy. Something is coming, I know it. I should've found a way to force them on their own air cover. Definitely needed to have something strong than just the glider.

Increasing magnification he checked the police cars, one after the other, for the fourth or fifth time today. Each one had a driver and a fully armed gunman riding shot gun. Just like the last time he’d checked. The gunmen were heavily armored, but had removed their helmets when returning to the car as the trip wore on. Complacency had made them careless. The job wasn’t over yet.

A lack of face covering did offer some opportunity, however. He was able to check the men themselves, now. Matching their faces against his database of known suspects, he checked for any unnoticed switches. There were no matches. No such trickery. Still suspicious of the lack of activity, Jeremy shook his head. He needed to find another track. The cops clearly weren't the issue.

Something has to change, he mumbled again. It's never this simple.

Unfortunately, the words finally proved prophetic. Dragging his focus from the rear left car, he watched as the front right vehicle erupted in a blaze. Exploding in dramatic fashion, the cruiser burst outward, its doors blowing out, glass shattering, roof buckling. Lucky enough to be an overly attentive motorist, the delivery truck's driver stamped on the breaks and brought the truck to a screeching halt.

Complacency had taken another, toll, unfortunately. Behind him, the two officers were paying slightly less attention to what was happening. The driver of the right-most car pulled off to the side of the road just behind the remaining front escort. Reflexes less sharp, however, the second rear guard crashed his car directly into the truck. Nudging it forward, he forced a mild whiplash on the men inside.

Stay in the truck! The first car's doors had opened, and then started to swing shut; they were shoved back open. The two men spilled out, only mildly shaken, despite the carnage around them. The armored man hastily tucked his helmet back on as he ran out. Stay in the truck, and lock the damned doors!

Sergeant Lincoln Baddle held a direct line to Police Commandant Leroy Frunkedt. Pulling out his communicator, he called in the incident. Frunkedt was anxiously following the caravan today. The establishment of increased security had been his idea.

Sir, Baddle yelled, we've had an accident. The right lead car has exploded; both officers are dead. Officer Kuong and I are out of our vehicle, securing the delivery truck. Truckers have been ordered to stay inside their vehicle. Suggested course of action, sir?

Reinforcements are on the way, Frunkedt responded. Do you see an immediate threat?

Nothing in the area is apparent, just yet, sir.

Any idea what destroyed the squad car?

Again, sir, nothing is apparent just yet. No sign of damage to the road, so it wasn't a mine. Should I inspect closer?

No, no, the Commandant said, quickly, stay back. Keep the other men inside their cars. You and Kuong take up positions at the rear of the truck until backup gets there.

Yes sir, Baddle confirmed, motioning for his driver to follow him while securing his helmet. Will keep you apprised of the situation.

Jeremy shook his head. He’d had a tap on the communications and been listening in. Frunkedt was such a smart man, but he couldn't help but treat the Raylax situation all wrong. Hunter knew what the Commandant was thinking; it must have been a time bomb inside the squad car. With an absence of a mine and a close, immediate response, it would make some amount of sense. It was wrong. He knew that much.

Instead of holding position, the men should have been out of their cars. The best course was to start searching for attackers, but Frunkedt was playing conservative. After everything that had happened so far, conservative seemed the right play. It was the wrong play here.

"Come on; come on, where are you? Hunter's unique position should have made it easier to find the culprit. What am I missing?"

Suddenly it hit him. The vigilante could have smacked himself. Often times, the most obvious answer was the correct answer. So used to unraveling intricate plans during the extent of this situation, he didn't even pay attention to the SUV cruising in from the long road stretching off to the right. Who would care? It was beat up, old, and had outdated music blaring out the open windows. It was the perfect cover. So perfect he’d almost missed it.

Minor moments made big differences. Jeremy had come to that realization years ago. It was partially why he generally chose to thwart muggers and stop sexual assaults, instead of tackling larger schemes. Those were what he could do on a day to day basis to save the people of his city. Tactics were still a work in progress. Despite his studies, Jeremy still found it a bit harder to recognize some of the more clever ploys across history.

Fortunately, this part of whatever overall scheme the Raylax thieves had been perpetrating was particularly obvious. He swore as he noticed the ranged weapon poking out a rear window. Hunter watched as the attackers pressed their advantage, firing a mini rocket at another unsuspecting car. The rear right squad car exploded before either the officers or vigilante could react.

The cops were still in a state of disarray, not reacting fast enough. It left an opening of only moments, but moments mattered. The SUV tore forward, ripping up the road for another two minutes. Advantage of surprise maintained, it screeched to a halt just a few yards from the wreckage. A handful of men jumped out, running as they hit the street.

Jeremy had already begun his dive, hoping to arrive in time. He hadn’t expected the officers’ shortage of reaction. Weapons. The glider really needed to incorporate weapons. It hadn't been his style, but times were clearly changing. Surveillance, alone, wouldn't be enough anymore. He’d need guns, or something of that nature. Right now, however, he’d have to make do with what was at hand.

The thugs were taking full advantage of the policemen's shock. Good men, impeccably trained, and normally good in a crisis, the officers were still human. The situation wasn’t anywhere near something they’d experienced before. They were slow to jump to action. It was just enough of a delay. The bandits got the jump, charging out and shooting up the third