0:00

How much longer is he going to keep us waiting? Martinez's

0:03

voice comes out squawky

0:04

through the radio. I bang my

0:07

hand against it until the static builds,

0:09

earning me a sour look from the tech assigned

0:11

to our squad. He fidgets with

0:14

some of the dials that are about three decades out

0:16

of style and frowns at me as the

0:18

audio comes back slightly better. Easy,

0:20

Slim. Crazy Hector

0:23

Salvador's voice is as greasy as him,

0:26

even through the heavy static. You know

0:28

you don't rush the Morrisons. I

0:31

really wish someone would. Lieutenant

0:33

Billings grumbles in a voice that tries to sound

0:35

confident for the reporter, but mostly

0:37

comes out whiny. O'Reilly

0:40

and I exchange glances. We've

0:42

been working together long enough for the expression

0:44

to speak for us. This would be a lot smoother

0:47

without the desk pusher. I nod and

0:49

broadcast my cop telepathy back at

0:51

him. Ain't that the truth? We've

0:54

been working on this bust for over a year. There

0:56

had been rumblings about Salvador's crew teaming

0:59

up with the Morrison family for a while now. The

1:01

two joining together would give them enough

1:03

muscle and firepower to go up against

1:06

some of the city's oldest families. Billings

1:09

had been caught on a hot mic not a couple of months

1:11

back, talking about some of the female officers

1:13

under his command. He managed to

1:16

come out of it with his pension and job intact,

1:19

but his reputation is in shambles. It's

1:21

why he's here

1:22

with a reporter. Probably why

1:24

she's a woman too. Most of

1:26

the bigwigs at the top of the chain are content

1:28

with the photo opportunities after a bust. Billings,

1:32

though, is hoping that a few quick photos

1:34

of him with a gun in his hand will help erase

1:36

the memory of his comparing cup sizes of

1:39

female officers. That's

1:41

why the van is more cramped than usual. Me,

1:44

O'Reilly, a couple of uniforms, a

1:46

tech, Lieutenant Billings, and the reporter.

1:49

There's barely enough room for me to shift and

1:51

take a sip of the cheap coffee. Although

1:54

all of us have it pretty sweet compared to Martinez.

1:57

He found out a week after he went undercover

1:59

that his wife was pregnant.

1:59

pregnant. She's due to pop any

2:02

day now, and I know he's looking forward

2:04

to the bust. After the Morrisons roll

2:06

in, it ought to be a quick sweep. Then

2:08

Martinez can go back to wearing his badge

2:11

on the outside. Yeah, Martinez

2:13

says. I know. Just this Indian

2:16

food, I... There's another loud burst

2:18

of static, but this one's different

2:20

from the last. There's an echo

2:22

effect, but the words are still coming

2:24

in loud and clear. The tech's

2:27

skin pales, and his mouth drops.

2:29

That's not supposed to happen. That's

2:32

never something you want to hear right before a bust. What's

2:35

not supposed to happen? The tech

2:37

swallows. It's a feedback transmission

2:39

error. They're very rare, but

2:42

sometimes with the older... What the fuck,

2:44

Slim? Salvador's voice is full

2:46

of rage. Before tearing cloth cuts

2:48

above all other noise, the room goes

2:51

deathly silent. Oh, you

2:53

dirty two-faced rat.

2:55

The rest is a bunch of Spanish that I don't understand,

2:58

but I'm sure it's not too friendly.

2:59

A scuffle sounds before

3:02

something gets knocked over, and then Martinez

3:04

is screaming through the mic. I'm made! Get me

3:07

the fuck out of here! I've been made! His

3:09

running feet and labored breath are soon

3:11

accentuated with gunshots, none

3:14

of which we need the radio to hear. They're

3:16

loud explosions from the abandoned building

3:18

across the empty street. Shit!

3:21

I grab the walkie-talkie and squeeze the button down. Shots

3:24

fired! All units move in! Now!

3:26

Fucking budget cuts! O'Reilly

3:29

growls,

3:29

unholstering his sidearm while I do the

3:32

same. Thankfully, we came

3:34

prepped for the bust, and are already in

3:36

our tactical vests. Billings

3:38

is sweating heavily through his suit and dark jacket,

3:41

but the reporter smiles like a hyena right

3:43

before a meal. If it bleeds,

3:45

it leads, I guess. Park

3:47

your ass in that seat! I snap at her before

3:50

opening the door and stepping outside. O'Reilly

3:53

and the unis close beside me. Billings

3:55

brings up the rear, his grip loose on

3:57

his gun as we cross the street to the dilapid

4:00

a dedicated building project that has doubled

4:02

as Salvador's fortress and place of business

4:04

for a year now. The gunshots

4:06

grow louder as two dark vans pull up. The

4:09

tactical team responded quickly to our call.

4:12

Their body armor and helmets are almost as

4:14

much a comfort as their automatic weapons. Reach

4:17

the door now! We all take up our

4:19

positions. The tactical team swarming

4:21

forward while their heaviest members take

4:23

an end of the battering ram. It

4:26

takes two swings against the rust and ice,

4:28

but the door pops open

4:29

as we rush inside. What

4:32

in the actual fuck? I'm speechless.

4:36

We've seen the interior of the building dozens

4:38

of times through Martinez's hidden camera.

4:41

The building is squat, just two stories

4:43

tall, and made up of two dozen apartments.

4:46

It's abandoned, except for the junkies that

4:48

come to shoot up after turning their lives over to Salvador.

4:51

We've mapped out the interior and planned

4:53

it for months, knowing every in

4:55

and out, memorizing every nook and cranny

4:58

that one of Salvador's roaches might be hiding

5:00

behind. That's not what we

5:02

walked

5:02

into. The room practically

5:04

sparkles it so clean. The marble

5:07

floors are pristine, without a trace

5:09

of dirt. I find myself staring

5:11

at the glass ceiling high above us. You

5:14

could fit my whole apartment in the living room. The

5:16

furniture is a similar white color, going

5:19

with the marble pillars that stretch up to the second

5:21

floor. A kitchen with all modern

5:23

appliances has something boiling nicely on

5:25

the stove that I can see clearly through the

5:28

open floor plan. What the hell? O'Reilly

5:31

says, looking around.

5:32

Crack house, my ass. This

5:35

is something straight out of house hunting. A

5:37

bullet rips through his arm, cutting off

5:39

the rest of his words. Shots fly

5:41

through the air, tearing through the marble, gouging

5:44

out chunks of stone. We fan out,

5:46

looking for the shooters, but there's no sign

5:48

of them. Martinez's voice screams

5:51

through my radio. Where the hell are you?

5:53

I'm surrounded. I take O'Reilly

5:56

and drag him toward one of the couches for cover. I

5:58

pop my head up, but there's no sign of him.

5:59

There's still no sign of the perps. One

6:02

of our heavily armored boys goes down, covering

6:04

his neck as blood gushes out. Billings

6:07

screams and starts shooting blindly, adding

6:10

to the chaos until a bullet gets lucky and

6:12

blows the top of his head off. I

6:14

line down my sights, trying to trace

6:16

the bullets back to a source, but they're

6:18

popping out of nowhere. One of the pillars

6:21

explodes near me, sending hot pebbles

6:23

into my face like buckshot. Swearing,

6:26

I kneel down by O'Reilly and reach for

6:28

my walkie talkie. Squad

6:29

van, I can't get eyes on the suspects.

6:32

What's the infrared show? What? The

6:35

techie sounds as shocked as us.

6:36

What the hell are you talking about? You

6:39

guys are right on top of each other. Fuck!

6:42

With more questions than answers, there's only one viable

6:44

course of action. I bring the walkie

6:47

talkie back to my lips. All units,

6:49

fall back! Fall back! Beneath

6:51

a barrage of bullets, we make our way slowly

6:54

out the way we came. One of the unis

6:56

and I hoist O'Reilly up, taking

6:58

each of his arms as we hurry to the door. Almost

7:01

everyone on the team is wounded, and I know

7:03

a few are as dead as buildings. Eventually,

7:06

we manage to make it outside, and

7:08

when I turn back, I see the same

7:10

run-down tenant building as before. Fuck

7:13

this! I growl, and go to one of the wounded

7:15

officers on the tactical team, snapping

7:17

a few flashbangs off her belt. Instead

7:20

of the door, I peer into one of the windows

7:22

this time. Salvador and his goons

7:24

have Martinez cornered inside. It's

7:27

not the mansion we walked into, but the

7:29

stereotypical shitbox we've grown to know

7:31

and despise over our year-long investigation.

7:35

There's no time to shout a warning for Martinez. I

7:37

pull the pins on the flashbangs and chuck them

7:40

inside,

7:40

then duck and cover. The

7:42

dull thud of the blast makes the broken window

7:44

shake on its frame, and I unholster my

7:47

gun. Go, go, go! The

7:49

few un-wounded officers and I charge through the door

7:52

and, into the same massive room as before.

7:55

Only now, it looks like the shootout

7:57

never happened. Shit! I

7:59

swear.

7:59

and walk back into the cold streets and

8:02

force myself through one of the first floor windows.

8:05

This time, I land on the tattered and

8:07

littered floor of the tenements. Salvador

8:09

and his goons lay groggily on the floor, and

8:12

so does Martinez. I let out

8:14

a breath of relief when I see he's not wounded, before

8:16

returning to the window and shouting more orders. Get

8:19

ambulances and backups! Come through

8:21

the windows, not the doors! What

8:25

a fucking mess.

8:26

I lean against the open door of the van, smoking

8:29

a cigarette. It's a habit that I finally

8:31

managed to kick a couple of years ago. But

8:34

if now's not a good time to pick it back up, I

8:36

don't know when is. The

8:39

ambulances came and went in droves, carting

8:41

off our dead and wounded. It took

8:43

even more squad cars to pile in Salvador's

8:46

boys, swearing and resisting as

8:48

they came to. Plenty of backup arrived,

8:51

including higher-ups, looking for someone to

8:53

blame. With Billings dead, they

8:55

tore into me.

8:56

They gawked stupidly at me when I

8:58

told them to climb through the windows. One

9:01

unit commander ignored me and strutted

9:03

through the busted doorway. He came out

9:05

a moment later, looking confused, before

9:07

hauling himself and his team in through the

9:10

windows. The reporter's been

9:12

sniffing around for an hour now, but

9:14

I've had a couple of uniforms cart her off. Her

9:17

questions are the last thing I need today,

9:19

and I wouldn't give her any answers even if I did

9:21

have any. As far as I'm concerned,

9:24

her story went out the window, the same time

9:26

Billings' brains went through his skull. Christ.

9:30

How am I even going to begin to file a report

9:32

on this? Three officers dead, over

9:35

a dozen wounded, and all because of what?

9:38

A phantom door? Relief

9:40

had flooded through me when Martinez recovered.

9:43

He had run down a flight of stairs, exchanging

9:45

gunfire, and then was cornered before

9:47

I tossed in the flashbangs. Somehow,

9:50

he came through it with nothing more than a headache

9:52

and some sore eyes from the flashbangs. It

9:55

was a goddamn miracle.

9:56

Martinez felt less

9:58

than grateful. As soon as he recovered,

10:01

he clocked me across the face, forcing

10:03

several uniformed officers to pull him back

10:06

as he screamed and cursed at me. I

10:08

can hardly blame him. He had come this

10:10

close to dying when backup was just across

10:13

the street. He left without apologizing,

10:16

but his accusation still rings in my ears.

10:18

Where were you? Where the fuck were you? I

10:21

wish I knew. I stomp out the cigarette

10:24

and reach for another. As an unmarked

10:26

van pulls up, I know I'm

10:28

never going to know.

10:29

The men and women who exited look

10:32

severe and cocky and begin setting

10:34

up equipment aimed at the building. It

10:36

looks light years beyond the stuff we were monitoring

10:39

Salvador with. The woman in charge,

10:42

a kindly older woman with short hair, walks

10:44

over to me. That was commendable

10:47

work and quick thinking, Detective Montgomery. Give

10:49

me a call if you ever get tired of police work. I

10:53

wait for her to walk away before I look at the card.

10:56

Except for a phone number, the details

10:58

are pretty scarce. And I

10:59

frown at it. What the hell

11:02

is the SCP Foundation? SCP-83

11:07

appears to be an uninhabited two-story

11:09

row house and a general state of disrepair

11:12

with an interior of approximately 366 square

11:14

meters. Until

11:16

acquisition by the Foundation, the property

11:19

was the reputed office for local narcotics

11:21

dealers who gained entry to the structure

11:24

through a front window.

11:25

Since the locking mechanisms on both the front

11:28

and back doors were corroded and frozen

11:30

shut.

11:31

Those who entered through the door of SCP-83 allegedly

11:34

found themselves inside a fully furnished and

11:36

well-maintained home with functioning

11:39

electricity and a fully stocked kitchen

11:41

whose appliances and decor appeared

11:43

to be from the early 20th century.

11:45

Personnel who entered through the windows described

11:48

the interior as dark and elapidated,

11:50

corresponding to the view through the windows. Personnel

11:54

in both groups reported that they couldn't see,

11:56

hear, or find any members

11:58

who entered through opposite means.

11:59

Both groups inside

12:02

the property not only described very different

12:04

living conditions, but their descriptions

12:06

didn't even correspond to the same floor plan.

12:09

Their descriptions matched only in the relative

12:11

position of the windows,

12:13

since both groups saw the same street view.

12:16

These observations were repeatedly tested

12:18

and confirmed by staff,

12:20

with the additional finding that the rear door

12:22

of SCP-83 also leads

12:25

to the furnished interior.

12:26

Any non-conventional entry leads

12:29

to the dilapidated interior, and persons

12:31

inside the different interiors are unable

12:33

to detect each other's presence, although

12:35

they both register on standard spectral

12:38

imaging equipment, so long as said

12:40

equipment is outside SCP-83. So

12:43

long as a human presence exists inside,

12:46

the floor plan seems to remain stable. Although

12:49

the furnished interior appears to be

12:51

well maintained, no inhabitants

12:53

or custodians have ever been detected.