PmWiki | Stories / NoTitle

"This the house?"

"I'm not sure, the street numbers are all jumbled up."

"This is the house. Ricco, Ciccone, behind me, I'm breaching." Lance-corporal Giambino figured that it was roughly in the right neighborhood, enough for any mix-ups to be plausibly deniable. If they actually found any drugs, all the better.

The other two Special Tactics squaddies took this dynamic entry with a bit of annoyance; their usual lead element had been replaced by someone from Central, someone they didn't know. Still, he seemed to know his stuff. As far as they knew, this was a standard drug raid.

"...Breach!" Giambino heaved the battering ram with one expert motion and brought it to bear against where he figured the deadbolt would be. A loud crash - and a rebound shock against his forearms when the breaching tool came to a halt against the door, with no more than peeled paint to show for it.

"It's open!" an elderly voice came from inside.

"...and... breach!" Using the rebound, Giambino repeated the procedure. Another loud noise.

"It's open!" the voice replied, a little louder.

Giambino looked behind him to find his troopers impassible at the stubborn door, and turned the ram around, preparing to strike the deadbolt with the axe blade. This time, he stepped back two.

"And! Breach!"

This time the noise was steel on iron, a finger-width mark having been made into the frame.

"Oi! I said it's open! Turn the handle and come in already! I can't leave the kitchen!"

Ricco pushed past Giambino as he prepared to get another step start, and turned the handle; the lock mechanism had been bumped around enough to require some strength, but the door opened with a polite creak.

"Oh, it was a long while ago" Granny Marcia said "I was just a little girl. It was during the Big War, you see. After the surrender. Men from the Master State came in, same through our door, and - thay didn't have that big hammer of yours, they had their weapons out and said they'd shoot through the window if we didn't open - so Dad comes out of the workshop and slams the door open in front of them, standing in the doorway so that if they had to shoot anybody, it'd be him. So they push him aside, and Mom had the whole table apparated up, big smoking bowl of thick soup with... oh gods, I don't want to think what we put in soup during these days... but it smelled something fantastic, most things do if you got used to one meal a day."

"... And?"

"Why, and they sat down and et the whole thing, just like you did! And thanked her, and chatted up my sister a little, and left, and even apologized. Which was good for us, for you see, we had two Geeps hidden in the coal chute! That's what they were looking for, you see. To take them to the underforts, with them, as they retreated."

"I see your point. So, you don't happen to be hiding anything, do you?"

"Oh no, dear. It's just something I was reminded of, the way you came in and the way you're dressed. After all, the Master State's long gone, yes? And you said you're police, not soldiers."

Giambino looked at his colleagues, flustered faces and shame under the helmets and black body armors. "No, we were uh... looking for drugs. I think we got the wrong house, ma'am." And the other thing, but he couldn't mention that.

"The medicine cabinet is in the bathroom, dear. But if you're jittery, let me make you some valerian."

Giambino rifled perfunctorily through the ancient wooden cabinet, eyes darting around for the real objective. Pixelated music came through from a closed door. "Ma'am, who else is here?"

"Oh, my nephew. If'n you could get him into leaving the room, actually, you'd do me a kindness - he's been glued to that computer game ever since the breakup, poor dear. Maybe show him some of your equipment? Actually, maybe he could look at the door with you. I think you knocked a bit loud, it didn't use to creak."

"... No, can't do that."

Ricco and Ciccone looked downright uncomfortable even as they finished their crepes. "Boss, if it helps, I know a fantastic carpenter that also does ironwork, maybe we can-"

"Squad, let's move out."

"But the door-"

"I said move out! Ma'am, thank you for your cooperation."

"Next time call ahead, dear! Do close the door!" The three policemen left, Giambino slamming the door by way of having the last word.

"Like I said, boss, wrong house."

"All right, wrong house. Back to the van and let's double-check the address."

"Francesco, are you done playing with your computer?"

"One second, Grandma!"

The old woman quickly polished the plates with a rag. By the time her nephew emerged from his cave, the only clue to the policemen's presence was the dent on the door and a noticeable penury of crepes. They'd have to split one, so she cut it in half and put it on the plate.

When he showed up, the boy picked the smaller half; the two exchanged a smile, and she turned the plate around. "You're still growing. So, did you win? Is it still that leaky pipe game?"

"It's not really a game, well, kind of, it's an augmented reality... Anyway, yeah, I put the unedited protest video up as a quest item. This means enough people will see it that they'll have a hell of a time finding a clueless jury!"

The old woman nodded. She didn't really understand the ins and outs of it, but as far as she could tell, it was this century's version of a phone tree. Always good if the neighbors know who to watch for.

"Grandma, was the story you told the policemen true? You never told me that one."

"Oh no, dear. Me and my sisters, we were the ones hiding in the coal chute."