Sevastyan #3

The police station was in its original building, again red brick and two stories high.

They were going to go in through the roof, enter via an upper-level service hatch, and then came the fun part.

If they had to, they’d leave Kramer right there.

But if the hallways were empty, they would leave him in an office space or bull pen area.

The holding cells were on the first floor in the back.

Detective offices and the police chief’s suite were at the top of the internal staircase. Ostensibly.

“You only brought me for my muscles,” Sevastyan muttered to Ellisandre in French.

They chuckled and answered in the same language. “Hm . . . yes. Delicious.”

Sevastyan laughed.

Getting Kramer to the roof without being seen required approaching from one particular angle on foot and staying low, behind some conveniently placed obstacles.

To give Sevastyan cover, Ellisandre was going to drive the van past.

But first Sevastyan had to get Kramer strapped to his back.

Ellisandre and Sevastyan climbed into the rear portion of the van and broke out the duct tape in preparation.

Kramer glared at them. He was on his back, somewhat turned on his side with his arms behind him.

Ellisandre grabbed Kramer’s foot and pulled him towards them, starting to wrap tape around the man’s mid-calf.

Sevastyan pinned Kramer’s upper body and removed the cuffs, getting his hands in front of him and re-cuffing him.

While Ellisandre finished with Kramer’s legs, Sevastyan got started with cutting off his coat and taping his upper arms to his sides.

After a quarter hour, Kramer looked like a discount mummy, arms taped down alongside his ribs, hands wrapped so that they couldn’t be used to free himself.

Ellisandre crouched over Kramer and turned on a low light. They waved a copy of the arrest warrant in his face. It was laminated. “I’m sure you know what you’re here for.”

Kramer glared at Ellisandre’s covered face. He’d long since ceased complaining. He seemed more petrified than anything else.

Ellisandre pulled out heavy scissors. “Glad I’m wearing gloves. I’m going to burn them after this.”

“Burning all these clothes,” Sevastyan snarked.

Ellisandre cut open the front of Kramer’s pants and fished out the man’s ugly, shriveled penis. Kramer flopped like a fish, trying to get away. Sevastyan held him down.

“This is less than you deserve,” Ellisandre said. They picked up a medical stapler and waved it in Kramer’s face, clicking it and letting him see what sort of tool it was. The man screamed behind the muzzle, his hips dancing against the floor, trying to pull his bits away from Ellisandre’s hands.

Ellisandre sniffed in derision. They pressed the laminated paper against Kramer’s limp dick, stretching the fleshy organ out for surface area and thinness.

Kramer bucked. Sevastyan reared up, putting his knee down on the man’s hip.

Ellisandre pinned Kramer’s thighs. They pressed the stapler against the top of the warrant and pulled the trigger.

Kramer’s back arched. A muffled roar tried to get out of his throat.

Sevastyan rode out the thrashing. “I don’t think one staple will be enough.”

“Good point.” Ellisandre added three more, one after the other, following the line of Kramer’s dick behind the warrant.

Kramer keened, his entire body pulsating.

“His ID is right there, on the floor.” Sevastyan gestured towards the beat up black leather object he’d saved from the coat he had cut off their captive.

“Idiot.” Ellisandre opened the leather folds and fished the piece of plastic out. “You do the honors.”

Ellisandre moved to keep Kramer down. Sevastyan took the stapler in one gloved hand and the ID in his other. Kramer’s eyes rolled in his head in fear. “Any particular place?”

“Surprise me,” Ellisandre shrugged.

Sevastyan pushed Kramer’s head to the side and pinched the filth’s ear together with the ID. He stapled them. Twice.

Kramer’s jerks were weaker this time. He had to be rolling in fear, dropping from adrenaline towards despair by now.

“Anything else?”

“If you have an idea, please yourself. Heavy snow should start any minute. We can head out once it starts,” Ellisandre replied.

It was disgusting, but the best way to get Kramer to the roof was to strap him to Sevastyan’s back and then cover him with a giant coat.

Sevastyan stripped out of the coat that fit and lay down so Ellisandre could strap their whimpering cargo to Sevastyan’s back.

He got up on his hands and knees and Ellisandre helped him into the coat, hiding Kramer from sight.

By then the snow was coming down in sheets.

Ellisandre jumped out of the van and gave the all clear. Sevastyan crawled out after.

Damn, the piece of shit was heavy. Sevastyan put a hand on the side of the nearest building and braced himself.

Everything from now on had to do with timing.

He started shuffling down the alley. The cameras were where he expected them to be.

Ellisandre drove by at the exact moment he needed to cross the street and get up under the camera angles against the wall.

He folded his climbing claws down over his gloves and started up the wall beside the dumpster.

Halfway up, the door beside the dumpster opened.

Sevastyan froze, hoping he was high enough that the person below wouldn’t look up.

Something heavy crashing into the dumpster raised a loud sound and then the door squeaked shut.

Sevastyan drew a breath and kept climbing.

On his back Kramer was absolutely still.

He must have figured out what was going on and was scared of falling.

Sevastyan scowled. Fuck the godforsaken shit. He kept climbing, arms shaking with the burn of dragging so much weight. The roof couldn’t come fast enough.

Beside him, Ellisandre scaled the wall at twice the speed. He wasn’t going to ask how they got through the camera sightline on their own. He’d just trusted that they were going to, and they had. They made it to the top before him and turned back, giving him a hand over the lip.

Together, they unstrapped Kramer. Sevastyan lay in the snow, shaking with the build up of lactic acid in his muscles.

It was a good sixty seconds before he could roll over and get up on his knees.

Ellisandre was already working on the service door.

It was just a hatch in the roof. They had a small computer balanced on their knees.

Sevastyan recognized the device. It was top of the line and very illegal to own privately.

Sevastyan dragged Kramer over. It was snowing even more heavily now than before.

The latch clicked, released from the lock.

Ellisandre shook out a tarp and knelt up, covering the future opening from the snowstorm.

Sevastyan pulled the door open and propped it up.

He lowered an endoscope through the hole.

No one was in the space below, but there was one camera.

It pointed down a back staircase, away from where they were about to enter.

The area looked like a physical plant service space.

Sevastyan dragged Kramer to the door. The pathetic excuse of humanity was shivering.

Sevastyan dusted the man off. No point in dragging in snow that might melt and complicate the operation with wet floors and squeaky shoes.

Ellisandre lowered themselves into the room and signaled him to wait.

The plan was simple. Ellisandre would go ahead, crawling along the ceiling above the vision range of the cameras, and set mirror screens up.

The genius of the technology was that it didn’t require actually touching the cameras themselves.

The screen would capture a static image of the camera view as it was put in place.

The camera would relay the empty hall back to the monitoring station.

While the camera would only capture the empty hall, anything could happen on the opposite side of the screen.

Sevastyan felt some jealousy when Ellisandre unveiled the tools.

“Where did you even get this?” he said in German.

Ellisandre replied in Russian. “It’s a prototype. One of Reevesworth Industries research labs has been working on it.”

“Reevesworth Industries?” Sevastyan raised an eyebrow. “Is this too . . .”

Ellisandre smirked and switched to French. “Government contract, and not the only application of the technology. My design. Tonight’s the first field test.”

Ellisandre went ahead.

Sevastyan waited with Kramer. Moments later, Ellisandre opened the door and motioned Sevastyan inside.

He picked Kramer up and slung him over his shoulder, following his deux into the office hallway.

Ellisandre walked straight ahead and turned into an open office space that was almost certainly used by a few detectives.

Other parts of the building had soft buzzing noises of people moving around.

They had somewhere between the rest of the night and no time at all.

Ellisandre pointed to one of the L-shaped desks.

Sevastyan lowered his burden silently, arranging Kramer in a sitting position on the floor with his back against a stack of drawers.

He wouldn’t be easily seen by someone coming in from the doors or the via the cameras.

Ellisandre secured Kramer in place. Not that he could really move with how he was already taped up.

Sevastyan stepped back, checking their work. Kramer looked like a proper package, taped up to the point he couldn’t move, gagged into silence, and his genitals exposed and stapled to the laminated arrest warrant. His ID was still attached to his ear.

Ellisandre and Sevastyan’s eyes met. They nodded to each other. Sevastyan grinned behind his mask. This was a mission he could be proud of.

Ellisandre pointed him at the exit and they leapt up onto the ceiling.

Better Ellisandre than him. There were many things he could do, but spider crawling wasn’t something he trained for.

Sevastyan ducked back out through the hallways and up onto the roof.

A couple minutes later, Ellisandre tapped the underside of the door and Sevastyan lifted them through.

Getting off the roof without an entire human’s worth of extra weight was much easier than climbing up.

Together, they avoided the cameras and made it back to the van in only a handful of minutes.