The Crane & The Tiger

A Family History

It was Sedgewick's worst nightmare! He had been drinking a cup of coffee at his desk in the LoneStar Homocide office when the call came in.

Possible Domestic disturbance reported by neighbor at 473 Richmond Avenue. All available units respond code two. Address and phone number are unlisted. -2147 hours Dispatch clear.

When he first heard the radio call, his initial response was one of disbelief! "No...That can't be right! That's my......Oh frag, Oh my God!" 473 Richmond Avenue was his address! Unit 213 responding came the call of the nearest patrol car. 5 seconds after that came another. His coffee cup shattered on the floor. He stood up so fast his desk chair fell over. Yelling an "I’ve got to go!", he was moving. Sedgewick hit the door at a run barely remembering to grab his radio on the way out. He was in his police issue Americar within 30 seconds and another 30 after that he was screaming code 3 down the interstate to the suburbs that were his home.

His desperate radio call went out: "Unit 965 to Dispatch, That's my home. I'm responding code 3, eta 3 minutes. Followed almost immediatly by a call from his Commander in Homocide: "Be careful Crane! we don't want to lose a good cop! I'll be there myself as soon as I can!"

Now in a battered brown Ford Americar we see Detective Seargent Crane Sedgewick. He is clean shaven and has an expression on his face as though it were chipped of stone. He has salt and pepper gray and black hair and is just beginning to show the signs of a middle aged paunch. The brown vinyl seats are worn and stained with old coffee, a sure sign of many nights of steakouts and survailence. The car smells of flavored tobacco from the cherry bowl pipe peaking out from the ash tray as the car moves alarm. Crane Sedgewick is bent over the wheel, all of his concentration is being spent on maneuvering through the evening traffic. At 38 he is the Senior Homocide Detective with 12 years all in homicide since his initial stint learning the ropes on patrol in the Barrens. He had always known he wanted to be an investigator, because he wasn’t your average cop. Crane Sedgewick's Police background wasn't exactly normal. He was a Forensic mage, a new and particularly effective breed of Detective. Not only was he trained in the latest in conventional forensics and investigative techniques, he could also use his magical abilities in his work. When other detectives would be stymied, Sedgewick's abilities would allow him to be able to trace an aura or find out if any magic was involved.

He did not think of that now as he neared his neighborhood. Instead his right hand instinctively checked for the clips to his police issued Ingram mark IV and then for the snub nose .38 concealed on his ankle. He was very scared. His Wife Lisa and four year old daughter Sarah were home by themselves. Damn this second shift rotation he thought. I could be home right now, and they would be safe.

He was only 2 blocks away when the panicked call came through. "Unit 213 to Dispatch. Shots Fired Officer down! I repeat shots fired, Officer down! Request assista...." Only Static came over the radio for 2 whole seconds, Then all hell broke loose.

*****

One thing had not changed in over 2 centuries of law enforcement, Officer needs assistance still received the same priority as it always had. Within 2 minutes an entire LoneStar assault team complete with heavy machine guns and helicopter had been dispatched to 473 Richmond Avenue home of one Detective Seargent Crane Sedgewick.

Unlike the rest of the new incorporated world, something pure remained with LoneStar. Law enforcement was still sacred to most of its practitioners as you could call them. They shared a bond almost like brotherhood, the hell they went through every day conditioning them to the harsh world. Some may not be able to describe it, but for most it was a balancing act. Knowing that their jobs depended on the willingness to use deadly force, but also feeling pride because they were able to fullfill a basic primordial need of society, protection.

Although Sedgewick did not know it, he had the silent prayers of all who were partner in his plight this evening, being a cop.

*****

He was out of the car fast as lightning, not thinking of anything really, his mind became a cold machine. His gun was in the low ready position, eyes scanning for a target. The first officer he found had been shot twice in the forehead, a classic double tap. His partner was still behind his open car door, a 10 guage police shotgun in one hand the radio mike still loosely clutched in the other. His neck was at such an unnatural angle, that a glance told Crane he could not help. Another officer, his bace blue from a crushed adams apple. His partner was sitting as still as death, and he may have been dead as pale as he was, except for the cold sweat on his body and the fragmentation grenade which had been placed in the waist of his uniform pants without the benefit of a pin. One move and he would be dead. He was understandablely in shock.

After a quick call to the bomb squad, Crane was running towards his house. He approached the front door of the two story vinyl sided house with caution keeping his eyes open for danger. The first thing that greeted him upon opening the door were his bassett hound Sherlock and the black cat Watson. They streaked out of the door and hid under his car.

He didn't feel the presence of his magical defenses and was afraid of what he would find with an astral trip. He walked quickly, Gun up, then down clearing each room as he went. He had a sense of foreboding. "Sarah baby, Lisa?" No response. He hurried on.

As he approached out of fear born from panic, he called again: "Lisa! Sarah! Answer me! Sarah baby!" The sceene that greeted him as he turned the corner into the family room made his stomach lurch and his blood run cold. He found them them then sitting peacefully as if asleep. His two blond beauties were sitting on the couch with eyes closed. At first he saw nothing physically wrong, but as he approached the eerie silence enveloped him. Sarah and Lisa looked almost unnaturally serene as the half light of the moon shined through the window. As Sedgewick moved closer a cloud passed over the moon. The moonlight came through the clouds as he reached forward to stir his unresponsive family. At first he did not know what he saw, but he instinctively recoiled as the moon light revealed blood on the floor! It was dripping, but from where? He followed the trail up to see a thin line across the necks of his girls. The crimson blood ran down in a thousand little rivulets to pool on the floor by his feet. His body began shaking and he felt himself losing control.

As the moonlight shifted Crane Sedgewick felt the sensation of ice cold rage wash over him, because written in blood over his wife and daughter’s heads was a note that read:

Hello Little Brother!

The scream that erupted from him then was not quite human. It was a mixture of sorrow, grief, and an evil animal rage that Crane Sedgewick had never known. AAAAAAAAAAHH! He saw stars, then everything went black. He slowly folded and slid down the wall next to his family; His back smearing the dripping blood as he fell. That was how his Police Commander found him when he arrived; A broken crumpled shell of a man who wished he had died with his family.

*****