Officer Brandon Johnson sighed wearily as he sat in his patrol car, parked near a Sirius Software cell tower that was just outside the Pine Springs neighborhood.
The 50 m tall lattice tower was surrounded by a 40 m tall electric fence, with warning signs, and an additional 3 m tall wooden palisade surrounded the electric fence.
"There's no kill like overkill when it comes to Sirius is there?" chuckled Sylvia Crawford, his partner, sitting in the car's front passenger seat.
"Tell me about it," sighed Brandon, recalling the reason why they were parked here in the first place.
The previous day, union crews had tried to take the tower down, only for that tower's "electric fence" to transform into a full-blown electric arc furnace the second the wrecking ball connected with the thick tungsten cables.
The wrecking ball had smashed into, and gotten stuck on the outermost set of cables.
It then slowly disintegrated in a roaring shower of sparks and lightning.
The most terrifying thing was that the fence never lost power or got tripped.
It just kept going.
The crane had warped, and its engine had exploded.
Within a couple of hours, whatever debris were that still caught in the arcs had melted and oxidized into nothingness.
Trying to cut power had proven to be catastrophic.
The supply cables were trenched 30 m deep and were covered with layers of reinforced concrete and titanium rebar.
Jackhammers couldn't even dent the concrete, let alone cut through it.
And nobody wanted to try setting off the required amount of TNT to blast through it.
After that incident, the union had quietly steered clear, but apparently, the spectacle of the fence eating a steel wrecking ball for breakfast and blowing up a crane wasn't enough to discourage local vigilantes and crackheads from trying their luck against it.
The politics in the police precincts was another sticking point for Brandon.
They had been given standing orders from the top, to not interfere with the attempts to remove the cell towers.
That order was soon ignored by those in the rank and file who still took their oath to protect and serve the public seriously, but being accused of police brutality and various other complaints had soured the whole thing.
"What kind of lunatic builds a fence like that? And how is it even legal?" he wondered aloud.
"From what I heard, they got them classified as power distribution equipment, and not an electric fence. And it is more of a nobody else is crazy enough to build something like this," said Sylvia.
"You seem pretty chipper about it," grumbled Brandon.
"Hey, what can I say. I'm a sucker for bad boys, and that Zakhrov kid running Sirius is as bad as they get," chuckled Sylvia.
"In that case, why are you sweating in a squad car with me instead of joining that paramilitary harem he's rumored to have?" asked Brandon.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. But I figured staying on the force is better. I do actually like the principle of the police force, even if the bosses are being pulled by Senator Goldberg," said Sylvia with a shrug.
"Ha ha, well I for one, am glad you're here," said Brandon. He tensed as a group of 5 teenagers approached the cell tower with a ladder and shears.
He chirped the siren, and activated the loudspeaker.
"Stay away from that cell tower. The fence is lethal," he warned.
The lead teenager, gave him the bird and his other companions laughed and leaned the ladder against the wooden palisade.
"I'm tempted to just let them cook," growled Sylvia, getting out of the squad car, along with Brandon.
"Hey! You knuckleheads have a death wish? Didn't you see what that thing did to the wrecking ball yesterday?" snarled Brandon, coming up to the group.
"You ain't stoppin' us, pig!" snarled the leader.
Brandon and Sylvia moved quickly, hitting the teens with their batons and restraining them with handcuffs and zip-ties.
"Police brutality! We is minors!" screamed the teenagers, as Brandon and Sylvia hauled them into the squad car.
"Yeah, yeah, which is why you kids should be in school and not playing with industrial equipment," said Brandon, as he stuffed them in the back.
---
"I told you before not to intervene! Now I'm up to my ears in brutality complaints and lawsuits because of you two," thundered Chief Daniels, as Brandon and Sylvia stood before him.
"With all due respect, sir, we can't just sit here and do nothing while these idiots keep trying to take down those towers. Those things can kill!" said Sylvia.
"Oh yeah? You know what else kills? Defunding! Police brutality lawsuits! Know what? Hand over your badges and guns! You two clowns are off the force!" shouted the Chief.
"You can't be serious! We did our duty!" snarled Brandon. His face went pale as the rest of the police personnel formed a wall behind the Chief, their hostility radiating.
"This is now a police union issue. We do not want rats in this house. You can leave quietly now, or we could do this the hard way," snarled the Chief.
Sylvia took off her badge, and her sidearm, and dropped them to the floor.
"I joined the force thinking that I was serving the public, I'm not staying in a house that kisses ass," she said, as Brandon tossed his badge and gun to the floor as well.
"Let's go Sylvie," he said, and they quietly went to their lockers to change out of their uniforms.
---
"Sorry kid, but I can't just set up a police force for your redeveloped zones. I'm a Congressman, not the mayor of Boston," said Michael.
"Hmm, I suppose city hall is in Monica's pocket then. I'm surprised there hasn't been more pushback," observed Aaron.
"Monica has influence, but she doesn't own city hall. We could get some city officials, council members and maybe even police chiefs on our side," said Michael.
"All right, you know that game better than I do. Hop to it," said Aaron.
"Damn! You're treating me more and more like a lackey you know that?" grumbled Michael.
"Fine. Please, Mr. DuPont, get some city officials on board with our plan," said Aaron, trying and failing to make a puppy-dog face.
"Yeah, no. Evil overlord vibe suits you better," chuckled Michael.
"Which is why I'm leaning into it, Michael. Now go get me some allies," said Aaron with a grin.
"Yes, Master Zakhrov," chuckled Michael, mock saluting, and leaving the office.
---
"Aaron, this is Councilor Elena Park. Government Operations. Off the record, for now," said Michael, bringing in Elena, a pale and nervous-looking woman in her late-twenties.
She wore a collarless navy-blue skirt-suit, with sensible chunky-heeled shoes, and her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun.
She extended a slightly trembling hand. "Mr. Zakhrov. I don't have the Mayor, but I have a path,"
"I'm listening," Aaron said, gesturing to the conference table.
Elena sat down, and took a deep breath.
"We can charter a Sirius Zone Redevelopment Authority, with special district policing under the city's home-rule powers. It will have a separate chain of command, separate budget, its own chief and dispatch. It exists only within your redevelopment districts and is explicitly outside Boston PD's operational control, coordinating with BPD by memorandum of understanding, not subordination," she explained.
"Sounds promising, what's the timeline? How soon can we get this up and running?" asked Aaron.
"Ninety days to first sworn officers if we move fast. Sirius Software's existing security force can be deputized as auxiliary officers to start patrols immediately," Elena replied.
"Fine, but I'll be handling the hardware and gear. Not the city," said Aaron.
Elena nodded.
"Your platforms can integrate under a licensing agreement with the Redevelopment Authority, so ownership stays with you, use is governed by policy. No one at City Hall micromanages your deployments," she said.
Michael grinned at Aaron.
"This is the parallel department you asked for, without the union knives at our throats," he said.
"Perfect Michael. Let's get this done. I have a few calls to make to get us hardware and cruisers," said Aaron.
"Well, Elena. We've just created a new Gestapo force. Happy?" chuckled Michael, as Elena blushed slightly.
"Oh nothing so crude Michael. We've got titanium weave and comfortable uniforms. Not those vulgar wool ones the Gestapo actually wore," said Aaron with a grin.
"Well, given how your compound is functioning far better than even City Hall, I think sacrificing a few cows for black leather is worth the price," chuckled Elena, standing to leave.
---
"Herr Zakhrov. I've got just the thing for your new police force. Meet the Albrecht Automotive Stormkreuzer," said Axel Albrecht, pulling the covers of a massive, sleek black four-door sedan.
"6.4 liter V8 engine, with Albrecht Automotive's signature supercharging, and titanium construction. Bulletproof glass, roll cage, airbags, titanium alloy chassis and body armor package. Can hit 318 km/h and 0-100 km/h in 4.2 seconds while shrugging off standard NATO rounds," he rattled off proudly.
"You're out muscling the American muscle cars Axel," said Aaron with a grin, as he ran his fingers over the smooth black surface of the car.
"Please! This car is far more refined and capable than those belching tractors that American automakers call muscle cars," scoffed Axel.
"Well, I'm sold on it. Can you have fifty units ready for the end of the month? We'll have our own security guards train on them first before rolling them out for the entire force," asked Aaron.
"Oh certainly! I'll prep the production lines," said Axel, giving Aaron a fist-bump.