Breakfast interrupted

Myles is a broken-down someone. He wants breakfast. Cops and media have him on their menu

“Ding!” The reheater sounded, letting him know that the meal prep was complete. Myles ran the depilator over his chin one final time and turned away from the metal mirror above the toilet. He dropped the depil into the water filling the sink basin and took three steps out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.

“Ding Ding!” The reheater sounded again and Myles slapped the door release, grabbing the warmed bowl from the miniscule interior. The steam rising off the lumpy gruel in the bowl had no odor at all and he grimaced. “Dammit, wish they’d just include the flavor packs inside this crap.”

Myles spotted the meal additive packet sitting on top of the reheater and scooped it up with one hand and walked into the living room, the meal bowl held by the lip to avoid burning himself. Another handful of steps, barely a dozen and he was seated in front of the holovid.

The seat creaked and squeaked accepting his modest bulk. He hunched forward to balance the bowl on his knees as he squeezed the additives contents into it. Colorless sludge squirted into the bowl and moments later an aroma filled the air. “Beef and Chicken,” Myles squinted at the additive pack, reading the icons and then discarded it to the ground.

“Holo, on. News show,” Myles gestured at the holvid which activated with a brief fuzz of static.

“… there is a thrill killer on the loose in complex two-niner. We go now to Captain Landry of sector police for an update.” The holovid showed an aerial view of the sprawling neighborhood, with the words Two Niner flashing in red. The view was accompanied by a brief musical score and then the view was replaced by a view of a seated uniformed woman in a tiny office.
“Captain Landry! Will you tell the viewers what the latest update is on this horrible crime spree? We at Wolf-Five have a duty to bring the raw truth and news to our viewers.”

The holo-recording crew was visible as a reflection in the plaques just behind Landry’s head. All crew members were wearing their newsie jackets, the garish yellow color capturing Myles’s attention for a moment. The rather shapely news interrogator in her ultra short dress contributed to his fascination of course. She formed the third member of the three person crew and she was standing directly in front, she was holding out a tiny microphone as she posited her question.

“Well, yes, we think that we have a lead on this grim situation. Residents are advised that we have identified the suspect, who we remind you is quite dangerous and has murdered eleven citizens already.” Captain Landry had steepled her fingers and was staring intently into the holo-recorder.

“I cannot reveal much more to you at this time, but my quick response force has been deployed and they are only moments away from apprehending the suspect. Rest assured that we will bring justice to those who have lost loved ones.”

“Captain Landry, that’s an amazing development, can you tell us who the suspect is?” The news-interrogator ignored Landry’s prior comment and jabbed her microphone further into Landry’s face.

“I really cannot reveal ongoing operations, as you well know Jill.” Landry smiled easily and then started to stand.

“Well, you heard it from us first, viewers. The thrill killer of TwoNine as we’ve been referring to him for the past month is about to be brought to justice.” The holo was back to the news caster in his news room. The man had a ridiculously symmetrical face and perfect features. He had a small tattoo just over his right eyebrow, the wolf logo clearly visible.

“And, we have our own intrepid report Amy Jansy embedded with the police Quick Response Force. Let’s see what she has. Amy?” The holo zoomed over familiar terrain and then suddenly jumped into focus right in front of a broad faced, helmeted woman flanked by heavily armed and armored policemen.

“Thanks Jack, I’m embedded with the Quick Response, and we’re right now in front of the suspect’s door. The Quick Response have asked me to stay out of the way as they breach.” The holo panned around and focused on one of the half dozen or so doors in the corridor.

Myles sighed and used the spork he detached from the bowl’s bottom to spoon a bit of the porridge into his mouth, squinting at the holo.
“They build all of these tenements identically. If they didn’t have giant numbers on each of them, you wouldn’t even know where you are!” The thought slipped through his mind acidly. “Looks like that building has the lights out just like m-“

At that moment there was tremendous bang and the door to his unit came flying inwards accompanied by shouts and heavy footfalls.

“Down on the floor! Now Creep!” A megaphone was shouting commands at Myles as he sprawled forwards.

His bowl had smashed into the wall as he fell, and the porridge was dripping down the dirty patched, oft repainted surface.

“I said DOWN!” The megaphone’s commandment was supplemented by a boot kick to Myle’s back followed by another stomp to his head.

Myle’s sprawl became that of the concussed and moaning captive common to the highly aggressive tactics of the QRF.
As Myles lay on the floor, blood trickled steadily from his nose, pooling beneath his cheek which was pressed into the cheap laminate floor. Bits of loose plastic and dirt crushed into his skin, stinging him and further lacerating his flesh. His hearing was oddly slowed down and voices sounded as if they were being whispered from some great distance. His vision had tunneled down and his eyes were focused on a pair of heavy black booted feet just inches away from him. A sudden weight landed on his back and his arms were twisted upwards and back, the pain further graying his vision.

“He’s down maam!” The boots retreated slightly and were replaced by a pair of spiky heels. Then a pair of plastic leather pants that squeaked slightly as the wearer squatted down, fashionably enlarged eyes stared into his and the moue of a mouth chewing heavily on something pungent bit out a short phrase. “Got you bastid!”. The pants creaked and the wearer receded back and away.

Myles’ eyes closed of their own accord. For some reason his hearing wowed back in as he slipped into a limp unconsciousness. “Bag him and put him into holding. Good job team. Quickers win again!”