While the Hunter's Guild had agreed to come to Chicago to vouchsafe the security of the protest only on the same day the protest was scheduled to take place, Jill Smith had made a point of confirming that all her people were there the previous night for scouting purposes. Jill herself had never been to Chicago, and while many of the older hunters had, they readily admitted that the sheer scale of the buildings meant that should a pitched battle break out, it would be in a context none of them had ever so much as contemplated in the past. Even veterans of the Middle East wars were skeptical that any of their experiences would be practical in Chicago.
This was all very negative thinking, far more negative than Jill usually liked to deal with. But her motto was to expect the worst and hope for the best. This was also why, as word spread about the Hunters' Guild's plans, Jill made sure that only Hunters with no dependent family members would come to Chicago. This had its own problems though. The less attached members of the Hunter's Guild were also the most ambitious ones, as well as the ones most likely to contradict Jill on the rare occasion she made a broad call for action. But then Jill's broad calls for action usually involved putting the guns down for some sort of community service. This time, they needed the guns armed and ready.
The main strategy they could all agree on, and indeed had prepared for in advance, was to bring as many sniper rifles as they could find. The Hunter's Guild did not have much in the way of raw numbers- with an army numbering only in the hundreds, they couldn't afford losses. Hunters' Guild members were stationed in buildings surrounding the planned protest site. They were only to act in the event that there was immediate threat of loss of life.
The main point of disagreement was which buildings in particular. Jill had mandated that only empty buildings should be used- there were quite a few of them, although they were far better secured than the residential buildings. There were many complaints about the tediousness of setting up in these ghostly facilities without tripping any alarms. But even that Jill saw largely as a bonus. If the alarm sounded, that meant somebody else had broken in- and it was time to make a run for it.
In reality Jill felt that the main real complaint from these particular members of the Hunters' Guild was that residential buildings with actual residents and fewer security protocols were less likely to be attacked by heavy weaponry. Effectively, these particular members of the Hunters' Guild hoped to use Chicago residents as human shields in the event the situation took a turn for the worse. While Jill could understand the reasoning, the morality of such a sentiment was completely repulsive. All the same, this was a volunteer mission and Jill didn't have the luxury of following all her people like a schoolmarm and making sure they followed all the rules. Her energy was better spent making this a moot point to begin with a good pre-negotiation.
So it was that Jill, with a small honor guard, met the Chicago police on the very frigid morning of the winter solstice. The Chicago police, evidently, did not take chances. They had a lot of high-tech equipment. They were all decked out with shields, body armor, and helmets in a long defendable filed line. Several vehicles of different makes and with variable electric cannons were flanked by the police. There might have been some drones, too, but Jill could never tell the difference between drones and regular vehicles. The flying ones would not be a factor since everyone was under cover.
The silence was stony and impressive, as the two representatives of vastly differing groups faced each other. Finally, Jill worked up the nerve to speak across the wide hundred meter gap separating them.
"Greetings, friends," she cried out, and bowing in a faint curtsy. "My name is Jill Smith, leader of the Hunters' Guild of the Free State of Iowa. We come in peace, to maintain peace, at this rally from the interference of fascist interlopers. We hope that this act of goodwill may help to reconnect our peoples, and whatever enmity we have had in the past."
The sounds of a scuffle were visible from the ranks of the Chicago police. A lot of static was heard from a sound system. This was odd, since Jill couldn't see any speakers. But finally, the sound went dead completely. From the center of the police embankment, a man stumbled out wearing a dark, slick-looking uniform. He looked agitated, but well-meaning.
"And I greet you," he said. "My name is Homer Ikari. I am the local commanding officer of the Social Justice Army. We share your goals of mutual cooperation."
Jill brightened up considerably. This must be that Social Justice Army she had heard so much about. And this guy was cute, too. He looked younger than Jill did, although he had such authority she was sure he wasn't. Such wonderful skin…
"However," Homer said, sending a dirty look to the ranks behind him, "not everyone is willing to look on your presence here with an open mind. The Chicago Police want you to turn back, and will accept your turning back as a gesture of good will and keep that in mind for future engagements."
"I'm sorry, but that's not currently possible," said Jill, stepping forward, collecting herself, and being sure to project authority. "Our hunters are set up in tall buildings all along the march route. At this point we won't be able to retreat until the march is over."
Homer looked back and engaged in some agitated whispering. Finally he turned back and raised his voice again.
"There will be no need for that. The march has been canceled."
"What?" said Jill. "That's ridiculous. The demonstration is an act of free expression. Shutting it down is exactly what the fascists want. You can't-"
Jill was forced to stop by the sudden leveling of weapons, up to and including the cannons, all directly at her. Members of Jill's honor guard started to slowly back away from her. There were strange buzzing noises. For an instant Jill was convinced her life would be over right there. But then-
"Oh will you stop that!" yelled Homer. "Put down those worthless weapons!"
A now clearly infuriated Homer walked over to Jill in a huff. In a gesture of obvious solidarity he grabbed her hand and lifted it up in the air with his.
"Look at us!" he cried out. "We are all Americans here! This country is falling apart! We all have the same goals, to stop a fascist takeover, and you're threatening fellow Americans?! I know you don't like me! I know you think that the Rainbow Shirts are also made up of interlopers! But unless you want to go the war with us as well, you need to stand down right now! The purpose of the police is not to brutalize common citizens without cause!"
Jill was extremely glad that Homer was attracting all the attention at that moment, because she was furiously blushing. The entire scenario was her teenage high school girl fantasy playing out for real. Here she was, standing in front of a gigantic battle line, holding hands with a tall, handsome, just slightly older man defending her and obviously respecting her for having good moral values and wanting to save the world.
The blushing only intensified as Jill realized that this man was also a leader in the Social Justice Army. Aside from Jill's own sister, Jill had never met an actual member of the Social Justice Army before. She always envisioned them as being these amazing dashing figures fighting for the cause of social justice and here he was! Jill could feel her heart thumping. At the age of thirty-four Jill knew she should be beyond such fantasies yet she couldn't help wondering whether this Homer guy had a girlfriend and if he had any interest in living in the countryside or whether he was turned on by the idea of a woman who could beat him up…
"Hey, are you all right?" Homer whispered, slowly bringing their hands down as the Chicago police also lowered their weapons. "You seem really nervous."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," said Jill, trying to get her feelings under control. "It's just, ah...ha...I've never been to Chicago before..."
The Chicago Police appeared to be at ease now. It seemed like everything was going to be all right. Then the shot rang out. Jill couldn't tell where it had come from, or even if it was actually weapon fire, but the response on the part of the Chicago Police was immediate. They started firing, in whichever random direction their weapons happened to be pointing at the time.
They didn't hit anything, luckily enough, since for the most their weapons were pointed at the street. But the sudden mass of electricity in a single location created a large shockwave. Without having been apparently attacked in any way, the Chicago Police had already by accident blasted away a significant chunk of their own front line. Homer, Jill, and Jill's honor guard took the distraction to find cover.
"What was that?" asked Jill, perplexed. "Were those laser guns?"
"Yes, why's that so strange?" asked Homer. "Surely you've seen laser guns before? That's all anyone uses out in the city. They're easy to charge."
"We don't have enough reliable access to electricity for that to be practical," said Jill. "And besides that I'd be worried about starting a forest fire if I had to hunt a deer with one of those-"
Enjoyable though this conversation was another rash of explosions suggested to Jill that there were more important priorities at the moment. Homer agreed.
"I'm going to try to get them to stand down," said Homer. "This isn't your fault. Find your people and get out of here. I'm sorry you had to see this. But remember that you have a friend in the Rainbow Shirts."
With that Homer leaped out from the cover and dived to the front of the line, braving more laser fire in the process. Jill was on the point of swooning. But she quickly shook her head and got herself back together. Well-intentioned though Homer's advice was, the situation called for drastic action.
Jill grabbed a rifle from a fallen member of the honor guard, quietly thankful that she had gone to the trouble of stashing a sniper scope in her emergency backpack. Dodging more gunfire, Jill ran into the nearest designated safe building- one which had been confirmed as having no people in it. She smashed the rifle through the glass- at this point the alarms were the least of their problems. Jill then ran to the tenth floor. Sweating heavily, but filled with adrenaline, Jill took stock of her vantage point.
It was actually nearly impossible to figure out what was going on. Jill thought some of her people were shooting, but it was difficult to tell because the lasers were so loud and frequent. Certainly, she could see some of the Chicago Police collapsing from well-placed shots. They were easy enough to hit standing still. But why weren't more of her hunters retreating?
Jill realized the answer to that question when she saw what the cannons were doing. They were firing back at the Hunters' Guild. But in a turnabout completely contrary to any logic Jill could ascertain, the electric cannons were only firing at the residential buildings- the ones with civilians inside. At first Jill's anger was reserved toward the hunters who defied her orders and chose to set up in these buildings in the first place. Then a more gradual mounting horror crept in. Why weren't the Chicago Police firing at the buildings without civilian occupants? Jill could see gunfire coming from the direction of those buildings too. In fact, she was positive that someone was shooting from just a few floors above her. Why were they being ignored in favor of civilian targets?
Jill shook her head. She needed to focus. The fight had to end right now. More people had died already than Jill had ever seen directly in violent conflict over the last ten years all put together. Picking off the soldiers one by one wouldn't cut it. Where was the commander?
Jill scanned around the embankment and caught a lucky break. Homer, with his very distinctive outfit, easily stood out compared to the less impressively uniformed Chicago Police. He was arguing with an older heavyset woman in the midst of heavy equipment. Jill immediately sussed out that this must be the chief of police with whom Homer had been arguing all along. Jill had a clean shot. She took it.
In that one instant, the scene turned from loud rampant chaos to quiet immobile shock. One man in particular, probably the second-in-command, looked around nervously, speaking very feebly in Homer's general direction. Homer looked to his side, flipped a switch on some giant object, grabbed a microphone, and the static came back on.
"Everyone put your weapons down now! We're surrendering!"
For the most part the Chicago Police obeyed. But one of the tanks started to glow again. In that instant, almost from nowhere, a laser sword popped up in Homer's hand. He jumped back, and in a single swift movement sliced the turret off cleanly and came back to the microphone before anyone had the time to process what he had just done. As they all stood in shock, Homer simply replied-
"Anyone else want to argue?"
Jill's heart started pumping again. Stay calm, she told herself, stay calm. The worst of it was over. Jill was becoming increasingly torn. She wanted to stay in Chicago, but was it for the right reasons?