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   Chapter 38 No.38

Prodigal Sun By Christina Engela Characters: 5568

Updated: 2018-07-17 19:01

"Can I help you, dude?" He asked with almost tangible disinterest.

"Yeah. Could you tell me how to get to Wickering Drive? Please? I'm not from round here."

"Well, sure." The Deputy began, turning his head away as he lifted his left arm to point in the opposite direction. "You head that way down Hasselblatt and turn left on – aaargh!"

The Deputy never finished his sentence, because the young guy had used the distraction to draw a small energy weapon called a Viktor Venom from his back pocket, and silently blasted him in the side of the head. The assailant opened the Jeepo door and brutally shoved the slumped body of the Deputy over to the other seat, quickly jumped in, and drove away calmly like nothing had happened.

A few blocks away, two young men wearing black t-shirts with red triangles on the front and back, entered the Sheriff's office. Most of the SOD's were on duty that day, but were deployed all over the city, either on patrol or posted along the parade route. The two deputies on desk duty there were easy prey. At the same time, strikes were carried out on four other satellite SOD offices around the city, including the dispatch center which co-ordinated patrol vehicles in the city. Roving agents were taking down deputies in patrol cars at a prodigious rate! Within a span of just fifteen minutes, Atro City's law enforcement department was already effectively dead – without even realizing it!

At the Governor's Palace, a number of increasingly puzzled and alarmed Atro-City officials were trying to make sense of the situation. Peg was one of them.

The motorcade had almost reached its destination, but something strange s

ets and white collar shirts to expose the black t-shirts emblazoned with red triangles they wore underneath. D.N.N. was firmly under their control.

The convertible finally pulled up at the base of the gray marble stairs outside the entrance to the Governor's Palace, the end-point of the parade. The marching band moved away and stopped playing, their last notes drowned out by the cheering of the crowd, till they turned into the next side-street and disappeared. From his seat, Prince Justin saw the podium at the top of the stairs where he was supposed to give a short prepared speech. There were cameras everywhere, faces, smiles, eyes watching him. It didn't bother him as much now as it did in the beginning. Waiting for a bodyguard to open his door for him, and the team to organize itself to escort him up the stairs, he continued smiling and waving, smiling and waving.

Glancing round, he saw his bodyguards were still shouting at each other, pointing this way and that, getting themselves organized. He leaned forward, and tapped the chauffeur on the shoulder. The man turned his head slightly.

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