Dave knows there isn't he can do about his situation. He asks what exactly it is you want to know.
Dawn was leaving him for you, but will be content to kill him at your word.
"First off, drop the Chicago Typewriter. Now, I'm going to give you options. You can either, A: Remain here in the employ of the police department, which is surely going to lead to a premature retirement of unpleasant proportions. Option B: Drop all of you weapons and walk away from this with just your dignity left with it's pants down around it's ankles. C: You can consider becomming the new police chief with certain conditions, of course. D: Trial by fire. Those are your only current choices. But either way, you will first remove all and I do mean ALL of your weapons. Otherwise, my little ray of sunshine here is going to put a new butthole right in the middle of your forehead, if you follow my meaning."
I'll retrieve my sword from the corpse of the former chief.
"But before you make any decisions, I want you to call the mayor. Tell him that he's needed at the station straight away. Tell him that it's a matter of city crisis. You will tell him NOTHING of what has happened here today. As far as he is to know, it's just another day of business as usual here. Got me? If you try and be a hero and warn him, if you screw this up in any way, I will torture you so long that you will think it's a career. Now, drop everything, have a seat, and make that phone call while you weigh your decision."
Pharaoh
He drops the machine gun, then starts drawing and dropping other weapons. He stops, and Dawn cocks her gun. He continues taking out weapons and dropping them to the floor, then stops again.
Dawn blasts his left earlobe off.
Once he's recovered from screaming like a baby holding his head, he stands up and removes anything that could be remotely considered a weapon. He's now in his tighty whities and shades.
He picks up the phone, and makes a phone call. "Mr. Mayor? Yes, I'll hold." He stands there silenty, then finally says, "This is the police station. We've got an urgent matter here and I really need to speak with him now." Sweat is beginning to bead on his forehead. "Yes, I can hold."
Is his "Magic Nightstick" on the floor?
It is among the weapons he dropped, but it doesn't seem to be glowing with the same eerie luminescence as it had.
As I recall, you've already got at least one "Officer Dave's magic nightstick" back in your building.
You can never have too many of those.
"Have a seat, Dave. You look a tad pale. Well, paler than usual. Dawn, keep Dave company while I take a look around here. Dave, if you try anything, Dawn here is going to start preforming surgery with her pistols. So be a good boy, do as your told, and you might make it through this."
I'll grab the chief's keys and look for the evidence locker. Damn, I could use a cigar.
You find the locker easily enough; it isn't like it was hidden. You find a case of cuban cigars, a bottle of liquor, a bottle of pills, a kilo of marijuana, three eightballs of cocaine, three little dimebags of heroin, a crackpipe, The Protopipe, and several knives and guns and articles of clothing.
Hmmm. I must have been here before. Lol! I'll take the cigars (THANK GOD!), the liquor, The Protopipe, and the kilo for myself. Everything else is going to the office where Dave is. I'll keep the pills in my pocket for now. Any chance there's a needle in here?
There sure enough is.. not. No needles.
No worries. I'll locate their luchroom or water cooler and grab a cup. I will empty a dimebag of heroin into it and fill it with the liquor. I will make sure that it is completely disolved, and go back into the office. If he's still on hold, I will tell him to put the phone on speaker and mute the mouthpiece at the same time.
"We're going to tie you to the chair now,Dave. Just as a precaution, you understand. Play nice, and Dawn won't have to kill you."
I will then secure Dave to the chair using whatever I can find: other phone cords, extension cords, lamp cords, etc.
"Here Dave. You look like you could use a drink. I'll give the cup to him and say bottoms up, old man. If he refuses to drink, we'll help him along and make sure he drains the cup.
Pharaoh
You "help" him to drink the cup.
A short time later, he's nodding, and a woman's voice comes over the line. "Hello, Officer Dave? Are you there?"
I wil tell dawn to grap anyevidence on regarding my participation in the incident. Papaer, video, tape, whatever. I will then unmute the phone and fein slurring.
"One second, while I do another line."
*Mute Phone*
I will empty the rest of the cocaine and heroin on the desk. I will pile the rest of the evidence from the locker on the desk in a hodgepodge manner. I will wipe my prints off of everything I can (not that they will be on record), and plant an empty gun in Dave's hand and a knife on the desk. I will pour another shot with some coke in it and "help" Dave have some more. I will unmute the phone.
*still slurring wildly* "I've taken care of the corruption here. Once and for all, you monkey's assring!"
Then hang up the phone. I will scrawl a note that says, "I did it all. Sons of bitches had it comming".
I will make sure Dawn disposed of all evidence of my involvement, and we are out the back door.
Pharaoh
The woman seems not to have heard exactly what you said. "The Mayor will speak to you now."
The Mayor is put on the line. "Hello, Officer Dave? Officer Dave? What's this big emergency?"
You tell the mayor what you said, and hang up the line.
§
Dawn seems to have enjoyed herself.
"It's been a long time since I had that much fun," she tells you as the two of you walk.
"Yep. Never let it be said that I don't know how to show a girl a good time." With that I'll put my arm around her and kiss her on the cheek.
What say we head back home, change into something more comfortable and watch the news to see what happens next?"
She tells you, "I'd like that." She's practically beaming.
A car speeds past the two of you in the direction of the police station.
We'll return to the building. I'll see if anyone else has turned up. I'll inform Dom we're at yellow alert, just in case we missed anything while covering our tracks. We'll tune into the local news and see what unfolds.
On your way back, Dawn points, and contacts you telepathically.
"Look, Pharaoh. Another The Bloody Bucket."
It sure nuff is. A bar by the name of The Bloody Bucket. There's at least one scriff sense in that direction, but whether you could say for sure they were coming from inside there or not is another story.
I suppose there's only one way to find out. Let's go take a look inside.
Just as you expect, the whole place is a mess, dark orange bloodstains from old fights staining the floors and some of the tables, but the transparent glass bar is immaculate, with the bartender's divergent polishing a non existent spot with his rag.
Lily, Bron, and Miralla are all seated here.
Lily, at the bar, doesn't turn around when you walk in.
Bron, seated at a table, inadvertantly shatters the shotglass he was about to drink from as he makes a meaty fist and his expression warps to one of anger.
Miralla jumps up from her table, fast draws two guns and fires three shots; Dawn jumps in front of you, fast draws one, and shoots the three bullets out of the air just as quickly.
Other patrons are staring in stunned silence; one is howling in pain on the floor as one ricochet caught him in the leg.
Ah the trifecta.
"Hold everyone! It's me! Well wait. That may have been the wrong thing to say. I take it you guys are a touch upset at Ishmael's latest escapades. He's safely tucked away where he can do no harm. Now, I suggest we all sit down, have a drink, and talk out our grievances. And wife, if you want a divorce, don't you think it would have been more polite to just ask for one instead of trying to shoot me? By the way, I'm sure you all remember Dawn."
Bron responds, "Who could forget that little charmer." He wipes the fragments of glass dust off his large paw.
Lily looks over at you, smiles, stands, and saunters over to you in her seductive manner. "Well, hello, Pharaoh. Welcome back."
Miralla goes to say something, then looks over at the screaming man. "Will you shut the () up before I give you something to scream about, you little ()?! We're trying to have a conversation, here!"
Bob walks out from the bathroom. He looks at you with suspicion. As you'll recall, his facial features look more humanoid now, but he's still only passable as a really ugly mug.
I will scoop Lily up in one arm and Dawn in the other. I will give Lily a firm kiss.
"Hello angel!" I will walk over to the table, kiss Miralla and say, "Still the sweet talker I see?"
I will set the gils down and clap Bron on the shoulder. "I'm sorry about Ish, old friend. But 500 dragons tends to make one panic a tad. Please forgive me."
I will walk over to Bob. "Karmanenoktolan. My dear old friend. I have missed you."
I'll look over to the guy on the floor. "I really would stop that screaming. Honestly! You think she hit a major artery or something. Bartender, a bottle for our table, if you please. We have much to discuss, and such discussions can be thirsty work!"
With the exception of Bron, everyone seems to be making merry and happy to have you back. The bartender brought you a bottle, which Lily pays for, and there's drinking and swapping of stories. Miralla is wearing a beret; it suits her. She tells you she went to a world where she was born as a cat, and she's still got some souveniers.
Bron interrupts the merry making. "Give me the God damned ring, Pharaoh! Hasn't it caused enough trouble already?!"
"Bron, I've told you before, I will NOT give you the ring. The ring was made for me alone, and it is mine alone to decide what to do with. If someone else were to don it, the results would be more disaterous than Ishmael. I would no sooner give "you" the ring , than I would put a loaded gun in the hands of a toddler. This topic is over. Period. The ring will rest in no hands except my own for eternity. Do I make myself clear? If you dislike my decision regarding this matter, feel free to take your leave of me permanently, as I am weary of you constantly asking for it. I hope we are forever clear on this matter."
"You still don't think that it's caused enough pain? With the exception of Dawn, Ishmael has killed all of us multiple times.
"You don't even want to know what he did to Dawn with your body."
"No. In fact I do not. The ring has gotten me killed as well, so that card won't play this hand. And what would you do with the ring? Destroy it? I think you fail to understand what happens when you destroy items of magic improperly. You could cause and entire world to be destroyed. Would you keep it safe from others? From yourself? No. You know in your heart that the temptation would always gnaw at your soul, and eventually you WOULD give in. Would you hide it where it could not be found? Rings such as this always have a way of being found by someone. Of "wanting" to be found by someone. I know the damage the ring has caused. I have awoken amid it's carnage enough times to know. No. The ring stays with me, and that IS the final word on the matter. We will discuss it no further or no more. Now, the rest of you tell me of your adventures."
If the bar has a TV set, I will keep an eye on it while the others talk for any news bulletins.
The bartender sees you look at the tv, and turns it on. "Anything particular, sir?" He speaks with a nasal British accent.
Lily is talking about her adventures with an alien race who worshipped her as a Goddess.
Bron is keeping his peace for now.
"The news, my good man, if you please. I feel the need to keep informed."
I will smile at Lily. "My sweet, you are a goddess anywhere you go."
The news is on, so you let him know that's fine.
The mayor is on tv. He seems to be holding a live press conference, and says that one of the city's police barracks was attacked in a heinous assault which looks to have been perpetrated by some sort of highly organized group. One officer remains alive, but it currently in critical condition at the hospital from a drug overdose caused by the perpetrators. He says the other police are hard at work and cooperating with the N. O. I. to find the organization and put a stop to it before more innocent lives are destroyed.
Apparently, however, there is no connection between this event and the earlier massacre.
A suit walks up and takes over. He identifies himself as an unnamed member of the Ennowy (NOI said fast) and urges everyone to stay indoors as much as possible, lock their doors and windows, and not open up for anyone, even official looking people.
§
Lily has been in this world the longest. Apparently, her psionic abilities don't work as well as she'd like, but she's still managed to set herself up as a psychic investigator who provides police consultations.
Bob and Miralla got here about the same time; they've been living together for about a year. Bob has his hands in organized crime, and Miralla helps him with that; sometimes they throw Lily a bone with something they don't care about, and sometimes she misleads the police away from important operations.
Bron works in a steel plant. He's like a human forklift.
Well damn. Officer Dave survived.
"Ok guys, we have to head back to the building for a meeting. Half hour goof for everyone?"
Bob says, "My job doesn't start til tonight."
Lily also agrees. "I make my own schedule, so it's not a problem for me."
Bron says, "I already got off work for the day. I'll come along if that ring isn't going on."
Your posse has grown to 7 including yourself for the moment; 6 on the move to your building.
If Dom is at the door, I will tell him to join us in the conference room. Once all are assembled, I will beging.
"Welcome back one and all. The point of this meeting is simple. The surviving officer, Officer Dave, is a liability. I would like suggestions on dealing with him. I know most of you have established yourselves in this world and helping may jeapordize that. But we've been together a long time and though many worlds. Any ideas? Especially ones that won't cost people their situations here?"
Dom responds, "I can go in and leave the hospital a bloody mess with no witnesses."
"You hope," Lily responds. "More violence is just going to cause more problems."
Bob says, "Miralla could probably slip in, cut his tongue out, and slip out unnoticed." Miralla nods.
Lily answers him, "Is she going to cut off his arms and legs, too, so he can't write, either? Then he'll just tap out morse code with his head."
Lily presents an idea of her own. "We let it happen, and then, when they come asking questions, you confess and tell them what happened. You cooperate completely and see if you can serve all your time for the murder sentences concurrenty, and get out in eighty to a hundred years with more connections in the underbelly of this world than anyone else and a reputation as a bad, bad man."
Dawn doesn't seem to like that idea, but Bob says, "That wouldn't be without its advantages."
That was my origianl plan, but officer Dave was rude, so I decided to teach the locals a lesson. However, still carying it out is not without it's merits.
"It will take officer Dave a few days at least before he will be in any shape to talk to anyone, so we'll see how it goes. Just be warned, if they sentence me to life without parole, I will put the ring on after Foooouuuur days in jail. By that time, you should all gather your possessions, and meet here. Unless you want to take your chances here."
I will look at Dawn. "That will give us a few sunrises before they come and take me away. It will also give some time with you all before that time comes as well. Any questions?"
Lily responds, "A life sentence is almost definitely what they'll give you; usually, that's sixty to eighty years, sometimes longer; but they don't put anyone away indefinitely here. If you cooperate, they might let you serve them all concurrently; they won't be expecting you to get out. It's a good thing you've got a good lawyer."
"What lawyer?" Domodred asks.
"Ringo, of course," Lily responds.
Dawn still seems somewhat unhappy with the decision, but you can only tell from decades of having known her; her pretty little poker face is concealing her feeling from everyone else, and as usual, she isn't speaking in front of them.
"Ringo? From blacksmith to lawyer. Only in the verse. Well, if he's half as good a lawyer as he is blacksmith, I have no worries."
I will think to Dawn: "No worries my love. They will allow visits, and due to the time I will be serving, they will allow visits where we may touch. Perhaps Ringo can work out a deal where they can be arranged from before to after sunrise. We'll figure it all out. We have eternity together, blossom. What is 100 years in the scheme of things. I need you to be brave for me, Dawn. I need you to take care of the building with Dom. Can you do that for me?"
To the group I will say, "Ok. We have a plan. If all goes well, I might see you all in 100 years, or near abouts. I wonder how they will react when I don't age a day?"
There's much shaking of hands, and your posse splits up to go their seperate ways.
Dawn doesn't respond to your thoughts.
You will have several days before Officer Dave snitches you out. Any particular ideas for how to spend them other than catching a few sunrises?
I will secure the ring in the hidden safe in my quarters. I will instruct Dom and Dawn to let no one in my quarters until my return. I will speak with Ringo, and tell him what I hope for. I figure if they try and keep me til I die, my crew will spring me (hopefully). I will spend a night with Dawn, then a night with Lily, then a night with Miralla, and keep the rotation going until they come for me. The days I will spend with Bob, Bron and Dom just talking about things and making sure we're all still solid. I'll make sure I'm home before sunrise each day to spend with Dawn. Perhaps that might help her make a smoother transition regarding my incarceration.
You spend the days as you said. Ringo assures you it won't be a problem.
In your desk, there is a locked drawer. You break into it, and find something Ish left for you. Pictures of what he did to Dawn; pictures of a nature you would likely be arrested for having.
Good old Ish. A parting gift I suppose. I will disregard the pictures and burn them. No need for them to exist.
I guess I'll wait for the inevitable.