Phones buzzed constantly while people shuffled papers and joked with one another. It was times like this that the station seemed more like a college residence with everyone wired before a big event and less like a professional institution. Times like this were when Tristan felt his shift would never end; he had gotten to the station late that afternoon after a group was sent out on another post, the force was short on officers so all those available were called to fill in. The new recruit greeted his higher ranked colleagues on the way in, getting a few head nods in return.  A stack of files sat out on his desk when he had arrived, waiting patiently to be neatly put away with the other cases to collect dust.<br/><br/>The early evening shift was usually when time dragged on and the senior officers sent people on coffee runs to will the time away. It was on one these runs that Officer Tristan Dykes was contacted by his partner, Officer Ian Rickshaw.<br/>"Dykes, you need to get your butt to the station now." The demand came through on the intercom installed into the dashboard of the police cruiser. Stopped at a red light Tristan picked up the radio communicator.<br/>"And risk spilling the oh so precious coffee." He laughed, and Officer Rickshaw returned the comment with no hint of humour.<br/>"If you think you're so funny we'll just leave you behind. No one said I had to take you with me." What he said was true. None of the other senior officers wanted to take on the new recruit fresh from school; it had been an act of duty rather then compassion on Rickshaw's part.<br/><br/>Minutes passed before Tristan pulled the cruiser into its spot at the station along side the three other identical cars. He walked into the building, coffee tray in hand. Balancing the tray in one hand and using the other to open the door Tristan found the room full of police in full gear.<br/>"...needed to close this case." One of the officers acknowledged Tristan's entrance with a nod before taking the coffee from him and passing it around to the others.<br/>"As I was saying before Mr. Dykes decided to join us," The officer glared in his direction. "the call we've been waiting for has come in that gives us the location of a criminal we've been after for a while now." He opened the file on the table, showing a picture of a young man. The name underneath read Gregory Gray Walker. Tristan studied the picture, committing it to memory.<br/>"We'll be dispatching three cruisers. I want him brought back to me." The officer jabbed his finger at the picture causing the paper to crumple under the digit. Tristan would be with Officer Rickshaw so naturally he had to drive, the older officer not having the eye sight to complete the day to day task of driving to crime scenes.<br/><br/>Behind the wheel Tristan gunned the engine, Rickshaw shouting directions to him as they caught off a van; the horn blared as the cruisers rushed by. Back at the station, information was being given to the squad via the police radios. Tristan half listened to the man droning on about the crime this man had committed.<br/>"The government is holding a high price over his head for something he's done, we don't know what he's capable of so be on guard." The radio crackled into silence as the officer finished reading through the file.<br/><br/>When they neared the motel the call had come from, each cruiser switched on their sirens, the flashing lights not far behind. It was a pretty rundown building, typical hideout for criminals on the run Tristan thought. All they had to do was pay the owner a couple extra dollars and hope the old dish didn't pick up on the news channel.<br/><br/>No sooner had they arrived then a man was spotted on the fire escape, pinned in their headlights. Tires squealed to a stop and every officer was out of the vehicles, guns pointed at the man. Tristan took a moment to study his face, sure enough it was the man from the file. One of the senior officer's started to bark an order to his colleagues to keep their weapons at the ready. During that brief moment of distraction the man took this opportunity to make an escape. Tristan saw him jump to the alley and take off at a run, Tristan took a moment before he followed. He could hear shouts behind him, someone calling for back-up and informing the police station that a chase was in order. Tristan could hear Officer Rickshaw shouting at him to come back, he wasn't prepared or qualified to take on something like this but the cries went ignored.<br/><br/>Being younger then most of the officers, Tristan had a good head start on the rest. This would be his case to solve, then maybe the seniors back at the station would treat him as an equal for a change. Sprinting after the man, Tristan had to cut a path over and around the trash cans that rolled across his path. He could hear footsteps up ahead so he knew he was getting close.<br/><br/>Soon the twists and turns of the dark alleys began to merge and the young officer found himself running through an unknown part of the neighborhood. He pulled up a mental map, tracking his path the best he could; if he was right then he had just been lead into a part of town frequently visited by gangs. Tristan had heard stories about the gun fights that had taken place in alleys very similar to this. When he could make out the man running ahead of him he judged it was the one chance he had. He removed the pistol from his belt and aimed a shot just beside him, hoping to startle him, maybe stumble so the chase would end. The shot shook his arm and threw up a cloud of debris and dirt. An answering shot came soon after. Shocked, Tristan halted, gun raised as people melted from the shadows cutting off the escapes. Each man stood with a gun in their hands; one looked at the police uniform Tristan wore and snickered. Tristan was far outnumbered with a criminal on the run and maybe seven guns of different varieties pointed at him.