Stan Morgan (Park Patrol)

Sergeant Morgan took the call coming over the radio requesting a response to a disturbance at the Round Up on East Lake Street. He and his partner were just a few blocks away doing patrols around Powderhorn Park; the storm had made for a slow night and he was tired of driving around the perimeter in circles.

The call came from Lieutenant Standish, Stan had grown up with him and knew him well, a guy who was born bad and without a friend in the world. It didn’t bother the sergeant so long as Standish kept his dirty business to himself and didn’t ask Stan to do any cover-up work for him, not that he would refuse a direct order, but there was nothing he hated more than cleaning up after a brute like him.

They were on the lookout for Karl Thorrson and he wasn’t hard to spot, they saw him running down Lake Street, as large and fast as a locomotive. They were half a block away when they saw the gargantuan turn into an alley.

Sergeant Morgan directed his partner to go around and enter the alley from the other end of the block. They came to the north end in time to see a cream-colored coupe pull into the alley in front of them, he couldn’t see inside the vehicle, through the heavy rain, but he joked with his partner about the man they were following as he pointed at the car: “The fat man was probably running to be on time for his date.”

His partner laughed, it was hollow.

They waited until they saw the cherries and the search light belonging to their back-up turn into the alley opposite them, then they rolled in themselves, stopping in front of a loading dock where the coupe was parked.

He called their location in then got out of the car into the heavy rain; he went over to the coupe and tapped at the window until the gentleman in the front seat rolled it down a crack.

He was lanky, with thin hair and a beak for a nose. Sergeant Morgan asked for his identification and while he waited he took a look at the blonde in the back wearing next to nothing and pouting at him like he was some kind of sucker

He recognized her; he was looking at Celene Forrester and he knew that she was trouble.

Before the driver was able to furnish his credentials Morgan heard a cacophony of mad laughter, followed by a woman’s scream coming from inside the building. Lightning struck, he felt waves of thunderous force crawl up his legs and into his spine, the lights went black, and without thinking about what he was doing he was heading for the warehouse with one of the rangers from the other squad was hot on his heels.