Usually when Amanda turned up on a busy day she'd see every desk full with people poring over their computers, scanning files and answering calls left right and center. She was used to seeing stress etched on every face, and with everyone running around fueled on caffeine and adrenaline, some having had too little sleep or none at all. But this... This scene of chaos left all those past days behind. She saw all the sergeants and other, higher ranked officers shouting to their subordinates, distributing work left right and center. She saw her co-inspectors mulling over every possible angle and growing increasingly frustrated when the reason for things made no sense. It seemed like every phone was ringing, and every computer was flashing to intrusively remind their owner that god knew how many messages - each more urgent than the last - were waiting. Near enough every desk was full, and yet there was still people mulling around, and a quick glance to the car park suggested that on top of all that most of their official vehicles were out responding to some call or another.<br/><br/>No sooner was she out of the lift carrying her up to the seventh floor - home to the highest ranking officers who still worked cases, rather than ran departments or the like - was she assaulted by a wall of noise. People were shouting, rushing around and generally in a state of panic all around. The hubbub wasn't entirely unheard of, but this was a level of it that Amanda was quite sure she'd never seen before. It looked, truly, like noone knew quite what was going on and certainly noone knew how to deal with it.<br/><br/>Over the general pandemonium rose a single voice directed toward Amanda; that of her boss. He who, as it happened, was also her target... But that might have to wait. "Ah, good, you're here! The switchboard is going crazy, jammed with calls. Seems like every crim' in the city just took it on themselves to commit today. I mean... These ain't even related, half of 'em! Rival gangs and the like, but they all went today... Been going on for half an hour, and it's not relenting. We got... Christ we go everything. Riots, looting, few murders... We're stretched -thin-, Amanda." His hand went up to his temples, and he rubbed them firmly to try and calm himself. He looked as stressed and sleepless as the rest of them.<br/><br/>John Wilkins - Amanda's direct boss, and the Chief Inspector - was a tall, slightly slender man in perhaps his late thirties or early forties. His hair was mostly black, though with specks of gray poking out around his ears, and he looked gaunter than when Amanda had first met him a few years previous. Still... He was good at what he did, and fair as a boss; Amanda had been given no reason to dislike him thus far.<br/><br/>"So... Right, yeah. You're one of the best we got, and I need to know why this all happened, all at once. There's gotta be someone masterminding it, or some reason it's today, or... God I dunno. Maybe they're just communicating, calling it an uprising or rebellion or somethin'? Just... Partner up with Jim and look into it, would yeh? Try to ignore the rest of the commotion, we've got a shit storm to fix." he flashed the most feeble smile Amanda reckoned she'd ever seen, then pushed the papers he'd been holding into her chest and stormed off to shout at someone.<br/><br/>The documents were just a long list of reported crimes, alongside the main suspects, who was assigned to the case, and the times. For what amounted to a half hour interval, there were several long pages of some rather serious crimes.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>