Re: Ctrl+V
It was an ordinary day in Chicago, on the evening of the 21st of September. Summer had disappeared like a bad mirage, and now the trees were bursting with red and orange, and soon the leaves would fall away and the eternal cycle would begin all over again. The wind was gradually picking up, and in a few weeks time it would whip off the lake and the cold would settle in on the city like arthritis on bones.
Just outside the city, a single Chicago Police car was moving east on the Reagan Memorial Tollway. Inside the car were Officer Thomas Everett and his partner and long-time friend, Officer Joseph Harris. Tom was sat back in his seat, his hands on the wheel, his eyes scanning the Tollway intently as the breeze coming through the open window ruffled his hair. Sat next to him, Joe Harris was cleaning a shotgun with a cloth.
"Unit 242, dispatch." The radio crackled.
"Dispatch, this is Unit 242, go ahead." Tom replied.
"Unit 142, we've got a 552 on the Ronald Reagan Memorial Tollway, just outside the city. Render assistance at the scene and determine the extent of the damage. Fire and ambulance crews are en route, over."
"Uh, copy that dispatch, we're rolling now. Out."
Tom put the mic back in its cradle and looked at Joe.
"What do you think that's all about?" He asked.