more bob dylan; STORM FRONT part 1

[somerset]

where: in the city / when: at night / what: too much rain.

" some people feel the rain
other people just get wet. "

Comments

[hellyeah]

[ The hand that grabs the door handle and the foot that kicks the door open may have been human, but what falls out of the car definitely lands on four feet. The Belgian malinois that barrels out on to the rainswept tarmac is no longer Danny but Blake, a short-coated dog with lean limbs and thick shoulders the colour of dirt and coal. Claws skitter for purchase against the wet ground but soon Blake is bursting off on the heels of the fleeing male.

The sound of barking dogs - not just the petulant, bratty shrieks of family pets but the heavy, full-throated roars of angry beasts - hasn't been heard on the streets in years. But still Blake remembers his training; a bark can be as good as a bite to instill fear in to the heart of the guilty. Above the roar of the rain he lets himself go, limbs stretching further as he quickly eats up the distance after hours of sitting still and cramped in the comparatively much less fun human body, and lifts his head to gratuitously snarls at his suspect. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating and fuels every deep-down predator instinct with an electric flood. Even with the pouring rain beating down all around them Blake can tell that the bag still being clutched by the civilian head is full of a dazzling myriad of illegal smells: powders and pastilles and rocks of crystallised chemicals, all ingredients for something interesting. It's encouraging and sparks Blake in to lengthening his stride, now barking less as he focuses on reserving his breath for shortening the distance between himself and the suspect. He's almost within distance now; just a little bit more of a push and Blake will be launching himself at the man's calf, teeth bared. ]

[paired]

Stay exactly-- [ The two words are all that Morgan manages before a shoe sails through the air and hits him square over the eye. The luck that follows it is actually better than expected; the fact that it's not the heel that catches him the first stroke of the good stuff. The second comes when he anticipates the curse that is torpedoed his way and throws up a counter spell in order to block it. The way it bounces away and shreds everything soft enough in the surrounding area (including the litter on the ground) gives him an insight into how wrong that could have gone for him. He hasn't seen that one before.

The female suspect, now with one shoe she's desperately trying to slip off and cast away, is clearly not an amateur and Morgan knows that this is exactly why he and Danny were sent instead of any of the other pairs in their unit.

He doesn't hesitate this time as he moves to close the gap between them before she can think up another assault while she furiously scrabbles at the back of her shoe, his hand around her shoulder and twisting her towards the wall before she can really do anything about it. The free hand he's got strays to the back of his belt, cuffs prepared and waiting to be applied in order to dampen that nasty little habit she's got. ]

I advise you not to move. They're only going to get tighter the more you struggle.

[hellyeah]

[ Exactly two strides later and Blake bunches like a coiled spring before launching himself forcibly at the man's legs. Jaws clamp down around fabric and flesh and the suspect screams at teeth that relentlessly tighten around the thick calf muscle. The bag is discarded somewhere in the suspect's desperation to use both hands to beat at Blake's face, but there's no way that the police dog will let go. Blake has been trained well: despite the kicking and screaming and the flailing punches that rain down on him, he will certainly wait until a very particular voice orders him to release the suspect. ]

[paired]

[ Female restrained and secured in the back of the car, Morgan grabs a second set of cuffs and moves away from the vehicle to follow the trail that Blake's paws have left his eyes alone. There's such an importance placed on handlers working so efficiently and perfectly with their dogs that Morgan has tried to always go the extra mile in improving their already successful partnership. This was one of those little spells.

He rounds the corner and though his first instinct is to retaliate on behalf of Blake - on behalf of Danny - he doesn't. He slows to a walk and is silently glad that he hasn't had to jog very far; he didn't get the chance to pick up his inhaler before they left. ]

Put your hands flat against the ground and I will instruct him to release your leg.

[hellyeah]

[ The suspect - terrified and in pain - seems practically desperate to latch on to any firm, authoritative voice that offers him salvation. He complies immediately and casts himself as prone as possible against the floor, arms tense with fear as he splays his fingers against the wet tarmac.

Despite the fact that Blake will do absolutely anything Morgan asked of him, the suspect would be forgiven for thinking that the dog might never ever let go. Even as the suspect lies quietly and compliantly, Blake's teeth tighten and there's a quiet scrabble of claws against pavement as he shifts his position to grant himself an even stronger grip. There's a little bit in the back of his mind - the section reserved for the very human remnants of Daniel Reed - that knows that there's a acrid stench of fresh spellcasting in the air; the female must have put up a good fight. There's a moment of panic - had Morgan been hit? What curse had the woman tried to throw at him? - that only materialised in an even harsher imprint of teeth against the leg between his jaws and the resulting yell of pain from the man on the ground. ]

[paired]

[ Not knowing for sure what thoughts are running through his partner's mind, Morgan's attention is sharp and focused on the mechanics of the situation instead. He hasn't forgotten the fight the female had put up but there are more important things to pay attention to now that she's safely restrained and out of the equation. Blake's safety and the transference of the suspect from pavement to car in an orderly and controlled fashion must be paramount.

He can see Blake has the suspect held fast and the man seems to be willing to adhere to any and all instructions he's given, so he moves in closer and produces the standard issue restraints. These are Danny's, his own binding the female suspect's hands firmly where she sits locked away in the car. ]

I'm going to put these restraints on you now. Don't struggle or he will bite you harder.

[ He presses a knee to the man's lower back to add some additional support for Blake and reaches up for his left arm. Guiding it smoothly behind his back before he does the same for his other arm,he finally presses the man's wrists together in preparation. The restraints are expertly applied and only then does he feel as though the situation is now definitely under their control. ]

I'm going to tell him to release his hold now. I advise you to keep very still and stay exactly where you are until I tell you otherwise.

Blake, release.

[hellyeah]

[ Of course, Blake complies. There isn't a fibre in his being that would allow him not to; every inch of him is trained to do exactly as Morgan directs. His jaws slacken as he back pedals away from the suspect and the man on the floor groans at the release of pressure, visibly relieved now that the clamping pain had been finally ordered away.

With the smell of the curse still up in his nose - distant now, watered down by the rain - Blake's first instinct is to immediately turn to Morgan. He winds his way around the suspect's prone body and briefly noses at the side of the other man's face as Morgan kneels in the rain. There's a brief snuffling inhale against Morgan's ear - rain, sweat, cologne and shampoo, but no thick stench of blood or acrid tang of curse magic. Morgan was fine and, apparently satisfied, Blake turns his attention back on warily watching the suspect.

Except then - then there's another brief scent in the air. Blake's attention is caught and his head whips around, nose flared and ears perked. The bag - the bag had been discarded out there, somewhere. Blake springs away again and bounds off with his nose to the floor - heedless of the puddles that littered the pavement - and issues a brief, sharp bark when he finally locates it. He won't pick it up (he remembers not to do that much, what with knives and needles and all manner of spellcraft instruments that could be contained within it) but watches Morgan and the suspect intently until they join him. ]