Blank Man

"Bravo team report", the heavily armored soldier spoke into a tiny headpiece taped to the side of his cheek from the comforts of a black unmarked van only a block away from the target location. Most of the officers didn't care for the headpieces, but they where hands free and along with a helm mounted mini camera recording everything you see and hear and heart monitors. They were equipped for perfect unit cohesion without interruption.
"This is Bravo, we are all clear sir, still no sign of them", the scene on the roof was different but the outfits the same. This two man team laid flat on the roof of a warehouse across the street from an almost identical looking location. Like all sniper teams, you had a shooter and you had your spotter, one focused on the scope, the other carefully monitoring the surroundings. Their equipment included a infrared sensor camera and thermographic binoculars.
"hold on, black sedan with four occupants just pulled up, no plates", the spotter spoke quietly though they were a far enough distance away that he could nearly shout and still not be heard. Pulling a small sound amplifier out of a large heavy equipment bag, he sets it up on the edge of the roof while plugging in the sound piece. Adjusting the dish to point at the car that had just arrived he immediately captures the voices from the car with almost perfect clarity. This was a well equipped and well financed team.
"Nigga please, there is no fucking way Captain America could fuck up The Black Panther. That bitch ass got nothing but a shield, he barely a superhero.", a black man wearing a black hoodie that has the words Voodoo child printed on it with a marijuana leaf as the background stepped out of the back seat of the car first as he continued to complain. "The Panther would jump on that fool, stick his claw up his dick hole and that shit would be over, they would be calling that motherfucker Princes America when the Panther got through with him". The second man stepping out of the other back seat of the car is wearing a Chicago Cubs hat side ways and Chicago Cubs Jersey, a white guy with a mouth full of gold teeth. "Dude, there is no way. Captain America does not go down, no matter what you do to him. He don't need his dick, he would take... suddenly a third figure steps out from the passenger side of the car, a women, dressed in a black suit, elegant with long black hair and wearing sunglasses despite the midnight hour. "Will you two motherfuckers shut the fuck up". The conversation ends abruptly, the driver does not step out of the car and keeps the engine running.
The three figures walked towards the warehouse entrance, the well dressed women clearly in command leads as her two protectors follow. It's clear to the spotter, they are likely armed, though their weapons are stowed away inside their bulky clothes.
"This is Bravo Team. Three perps just entered the warehouse, a fourth remained behind in the car, he's got the engine running", the spotter reported. "Roger that Bravo team, stand-bye", the radio chirps back.
It wasn't a difficult call for the commander of the team to make, their real target had not arrived yet and they didn't stake this warehouse out for two days to arrest a couple low level gangsters. Sure the women was a person of interest, but they were going to stay put for their real prize. If their Intel was correct, this meeting was with one Bennett Steadman, a local club owner believed to be responsible for a new drug operation out of his night club called Red No. 5, something the local law enforcement would like to see shut down before it becomes a bigger problem.
The commander waited for for over an hour, impatiently checking in with Bravo Team nearly every 10 minutes. Each time the radio chirped back, "No one has gone in or out sir, it looks like they are just sitting their waiting."
Bennett was either late to the party, or they have been made. With each passing moment, the risk factor to his team increased.
"Who is this guy anyway sir, how does a nobody from Hegewisch get money to buy a hot spot like Red No. 5, who is funding this guy?", The young operations officer clearly tense from sitting in near silence with a high ranking and highly respected commander was looking to break the ice. "It's Patrick right"? The commander asked inquisitively and the young officer discovered rhetorically as he cut him off before he could answer. "Bennett is what they call a front-man, a foot soldier for bigger fish and eventually the fall guy for when inevitably a business venture goes south.", the commander takes a drag off a cigarette, not showing it, but as nervous and tense as anyone else on the operation. He continues as the smoke slowly oozes out of his mouth and nose. "The front-man is the guy you take down first, offer him a plea deal and hope he gives up the bigger fish. Its really as simple as that. He's a nobody we can use". When the commander finished he felt like he had said those exact words on countless operations to countless young communication officers over countless years, the deja vu was uncanny. He wouldn't miss any of it when he retired. One more year and instead of spending his nights living out of a van, he would be on Lake Michigan on his twin engine cruiser sucking down Coors Light and grilling steaks until his heart gave out. "It's going to be glorious", the commander whispered to himself.
The commander and communications officer watched the monitors intently, 4 placement cameras plus Team Bravo and Charlie's head cams gave them just about every angel in and out of the dead end street and twin warehouses. They could see the driver occasionally flick a cigarette out the car window and the infrared outlines of the 3 in the warehouse who seem to just be sitting around a table inside. Then out of the corner of monitor 4, the commander saw something. "What's that Patrick", the commander spoke pointing at the monitor to a section in the back of the warehouse. Patrick looked, at first a glance, then intently, eventually zooming in on the section the commander was pointing at. "I don't see anything sir", Patrick barely got to finish. "There, again, did you see that", again the commander spoke with more intensity this time pointing at Monitor 3.
"Bravo Team, report, do you guys see any movement", the commander spoke into the radio so loudly, the spotter on the roof felt compelled to turn down his radio. "No sir, we are all clear, do you guys have something?" The spotter reported.
Perhaps he was seeing things, but the commander could have sworn he saw someone moving across the warehouse. There was no heat signature, making it difficult to see anything, the quality of the video feed was not particularly great either. "This thing is recording right, rewind the monitor 4 recording".
As the recording re-winded, the commander and communications officer both watched the screen, the blue hues bouncing around the smoke filled room. "Stop, right there, play it back in slow motion", the commander instructed. Patrick hit play on the recorder and then used the wheeled control dial to slow the recording down. "slower", the commander insisted and Patrick turned the dial down. "Right there, you saw that right?, play it back again", the commander said leaning into the monitor. "What the hell is that", the commander said as a figure a passed through the lens of the camera. It was blury and the unidentified perp had no heat signature, but you could clearly see him moving through the warehouse almost casually like a ghost.
Without warning gun shots could be heard, they were muffled, coming through the monitor 2 feed. "shots fired, shots fired", the spotter shouted through the radio. The black sedan didn't hesitate, with tires screeching he burst out of the alley. "Charlie Team, breach, I repeat breach", the commander shouted into his radio as he watched Charlie Team already standing by at the north end of the warehouse move in formation through the first room even before he finished the sentence. "Delta team, we have a black sedan, no plates moving southbound on South 102, arrest and detain", the commander ordered.
The commander grabbed for his vest, strapping it on with haste and pulling out his standard issue 9 mm as he slid the van door open and jumped out. "Charlie team report", the commander ordered as he moved quickly across the street towards the warehouse with two officers who jumped out of the parked van across the street came out to cover him. "Three perps down sir, we are doing a room by room", the leader of Charlie team was clearly breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment pushing everyones adrenaline.
As the commander made his way towards the back of the warehouse he chirped in to the radio, this time very quietly "Eagle entering south side warehouse". He looked back to check his cover, the two officers where less then three feet behind him with guns drawn.
One came around to stand by the door, while the commander and the second officer aimed their guns at the door. The commander gave his officer by the door a nod and he opened the door as the commander and the second officer moved into the room in tight formation.
Working their way through the warehouse, they could hear shouts of "clear" as Charlie Team is moving through the warehouse area in front of them. The room they entered was completely empty except for a large table that stood in the middle of the room that looked like it may have been used as a conference room when this warehouse was in operation. There was an ajar door on the other-side of the room, all three officers slowly and carefully cleared the room and made their way towards the door.
"Clear", one of the officers said behind the commander as he approached the door. "Clear", again Charlie team reporting in, they where in the room in front of them. As the commander opened the door he saw the gun flashlights from Charlie team, the commander quickly raising his hands to make sure the CPD vest he was wearing was clearly visible to Charlie Team. "All Clear", the Charlie Team leader said over the radio, signaling that the warehouse was cleared of all clear and present danger. The commanders shoulders relaxed.
"What do we have Lieutenant", the commander spoke as he turned down his radio. "3 perps down in the main warehouse. From what I can tell, it looks like they had some sort of dispute and shot each other", the Lieutenant reported. "Where is the 4th perp, the mystery man", the Commander insisted. "4th man sir? Didn't the driver take off?" The Lieutenant said slightly confused.
"Lieutenant, we had a 4th perp that entered the warehouse through that office right before shots where fired, he has to still be in here somewhere", the commander demanded. "Sir we cleared the area, there is no one else in this warehouse I assure you, there really is nowhere to hide, its a big open space".
The commander took a walk into the main warehouse where officers where already sectioning off the crime scene. He walks over to the table where the three where sitting at. There was no mistaking what looks like happened here. "Mexican stand off?", an officer joked from behind the commander. "Mexican stand off my ass", the commander whispered to himself.
He pondered the night as officers shuffled about the crime scene. He was certain their was a 4th man in the room and it hadn't been the first time he had seen a night operation with a mystery man giving no heat signature off. He stopped reporting that sort of thing a few years back after the department started sending him off to counseling for post traumatic stress. In the last couple of years he had seen a number of these ghosts. In fact he had become so self conscious about it, when he sat in that van most nights he was actually looking for them. This time it was different, somehow he knew what happened here. He knew what its supposed to look like and as he watched and listened to the crime investigators, he could see that no one would be interested in this old cops ghost stories. It was time, he had, had enough.
"Fuck this shit, I'm done", the commander said, this time making no attempt to keep it to himself. He started walking towards the back door exit, as he passed the Charlie Team leader, he slapped his badge into the Lieutenants chest. "Your in charge Lieutenant", the commander said as he released the badge into the Lieutenants hand. The confused officer looked down at the badge and instinctively asked "Where the hell are you going?".
The commander without looking back grinned and whispered to himself "Lake Michigan".