"Going Straight" (closed)

[PennySaver]

Jennifer, arresting Mila Jaseck:

Jennifer had been dealing with mixed emotions of where the Untouchables went from here -- or, more specifically, how they went from here. She was a cop! She'd taken an oath to uphold law and order. And yet, after Enzo D'Angelo's murder, after the attacks on both Elmhurst and the Health Clinic downtown, Jennifer wanted to pick up a machine gun with a grenade launcher and go nuts on the Organized Crime World like Al Pacino at the end of Scar Face. Say hello to my little friend! Of course, she could do without the whole shotgun to the back and splashing in the fountain below part.

Marcus and Mephisto had understood Jennifer's feelings without her actually speaking them aloud. They'd found a perfect outlet for her rage: the arrest of Mila Jaseck. Killing off Emelia's enemies -- who, of course, were all enemies of law and order, too -- was a good thing, and it was something about which the Untouchables and their associates were doing a great deal of damage.

But Organized Crime was about more than just thugs with guns, it was about suits with money. Mila Jaseck had been just one of many D'Angelo money launderers, something that in and of itself hadn't made her very special to the Untouchables. It was her financing of the Traditori that had made her a target of the Untouchables.

Once again, Mephisto had discovered Mila's involvement in the affair. It had been a totally unexpected twist; no one had had their eyes on the modeling agency owner until Mephisto had worked his magic and followed the money. Jennifer had at the time pointed a finger at the monitors revealing the facts and announced, "This one's mine."

And now, here she was entering the woman's upscale modeling agency with a purposeful stride and the evidence under her arm. The receptionist, busy with multiple calls, only looked up with confused surprise at Jennifer's march toward the big double doors of her boss's office; she waggled a finger toward Jennifer as she looked to the security guard, who immediately stepped out in front of the rookie cop, saying forcefully, "You need to return to the desk, Miss, to make an appoint--"

That was all the farther he got before Jennifer's foot made contact to his groin with such force that it literally lifted the big man's feet from the ground for an instant before his knees bent and he simply collapsed to the floor. Jennifer watched him as he groaned on the tiles, then looked about the waiting room; a dozen wanna-be models -- all female, all perfect by current standards of beauty and sexual attraction -- showed their shock in various ways.

"Call the police," the cop told the receptionist. "If you're lucky, they'll arrive before I kill your boss."

Jennifer burst through the big double doors, finding and surprising Mila Jaseck as she engaged in a client call via her speaker phone. She reacted with, "Who the fuck are you?" She followed up quickly as she looked toward the open doors, "Security...! Where the fuck is Security?"

As Jennifer curled to circle the big desk, Mila caught sight of her bodyguard laying on the tile in a fetal position with his hands between his legs. She turned toward the advancing Jennifer just in time to see another frightening thing: a fist. The punch caught her right in the nose, breaking it and severing enough blood vessels to send a spray of blood down the frontside of her designer dress as she fell backwards into her desk chair; like something out of a Marx Brothers movie, the chair rolled backwards until the wheels caught the edge of the carpet and spilled Mila head over heels to the floor.

The woman who'd been a model, a commercial actress, a Miss Capital City pageant runner-up, a centerfold, and finally a modeling industry titan -- a woman whose entire existence had been built upon her exceptional and perfect beauty -- grasped at her now broken face and cried out in horror, "What the fuck...? WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE ... TO MY FACE ... OH MY GOD!"

"Jennifer Kennedy, Capital City Police," the rookie cop said with a tone of pride.

As she strolled closer to the woman who was doing her best to rise back to her feet with one hand while the other was cradling her bleeding, broken face, Jennifer flashed the badge hanging around her neck on a chain. She pushed the rolling chair out of the way and began listing off in a very professional manner the charges that were being pressed against Mila per an arrest warrant ADA Laura Shovelli had passed to Jennifer just half an hour ago.

"You have the right to remain silent," Jennifer began, wanting the arrest of the money launderer to be official and all. Okay, so maybe not and all; now close to Mila, Jennifer again threw a punch that struck the woman hard between the tits that she'd shown off so readily in a centerfold layout a decade earlier, sending Mila back into a shelf unit that featured some of her many awards for this or that or the other thing. As the woman grasped for anything to keep her steady and on her feet, Jennifer continued, "Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to the presence of a lawyer during questioning..."

"I don't understand what's happening...!" the money launderer was screaming between sobs of pain and fear. "What's happening?"

"If you cannot afford a lawyer..." Jennifer continued as she threw another punch at Mila's face, this time catching her in the forehead. Jennifer grimaced and pulled her hand back, surveying her fingers as she groaned. She looked up at the distraught former-model, angry, mumbling, "I think you just broke my finger, bitch."

At the open doorway to the office, a pair of security officers from the lobby arrived and hollered at Jennifer to stop what she was doing. She turned to face them, flashed her badge again, identifying herself, this time adding, "Governor's Task Force On Organized Crime. Do me a favor and step outside while I finish putting Miss Staneck under arrest.

The men continued forward, separating to come at Jennifer from opposite sides of the desk behind which she was beating the crap out of her target. In a movement reminiscent of Wild West movies, the cop whipped out her Beretta and aimed it at the face of one of the guards, then shifted it to the other. They stopped in place, each of them holding their hands up and out to show their respect for the weapon.

Jennifer wanted to beat on the woman some more, but the presence of the security guards made doing so a bit more difficult. She lowered her weapon to her side and -- just as a pair of CCPD uniforms rushed into the office -- returned it to its holster. She once again held up her badge, identified herself by name and assignment, then gestured the cops toward Mila, saying, "Take Miss Staneck into custody."

She gingerly caressed her punching hand as she watched the guards step aside and the cops lift Mila back to her feet yet again and cuff her. They read her rights -- properly, this time -- and as one of them took her out, the other made inquiries of Jennifer as to what the fuck was happening. The Untouchable handed over the arrest warrant, saying, "Read it yourself. I gotta get my hand looked at."

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus looked around as the man spoke to him. The uniforms were watching him with curiosity, those closest to him who heard that Emelia wanted him looked at him even more curiously. Why would the newly minted head of the D'Angelo crime family want to talk to the man assigned to destroy her world ... on the day she buried her father?! Cole could of said no and it would have flown he thought, Emelia would have understood, but he wanted to see her, he felt it inside him that he needed to see her so with a shrug at the cops around him he started down the hill toward the limo.

"Lets see what she has to say." He said loud enough for the police officers to hear. Hopefully they would just assume he was going to try and get some information from her.

The three men she had sent to retrieve him walked behind him as a respectful distance until he got to the car where Phillip stood next to the open door. The man glanced up the hill to where the CCPD officers stood watching, then back to Marcus.

"I told her this was a bad idea, Marcus." He confessed as Cole ducked his head and stepped into the limo as Phillip closed the door.

It was a roomy car, well, it was a limo. He had plenty of space and options of where to sit, but he chose a seat in front of Emelia rather than next to her, he felt he needed to see her face, and maybe she needed to see his. She looked incredible, even in the black mourning clothes she wore, though he doubted she would look bad in anything, her body would refuse to look shabby.

"I haven't had a chance ..." He tried to begin, then stopped, trying to think of something to say that wasn't cliched and hadn't been said to her a hundred times today by people who didn't mean a word. Finally he simply chose the honest option, and his voice told her how much he meant what he said. "I'm so sorry, Emelia."

 

[PennySaver]

Emelia and Marcus:

As the Detective entered her limo, Emelia found herself a bit disappointed that he sat opposite of her rather than beside her. She would have loved to wrap her arms around his torso, laying her head against his chest as she sobbed.

Maybe it was better this way. Publically, they weren't supposed to know one another. Glancing out the window toward the rise, she saw a handful of his fellow cops looking their way. They were chatting with the body language of old women gossiping about their neighbors at a picket fence. Philip had been right: this had been a mistake.

"I've missed you," Emelia said softly after Marcus told her he was sorry. Her glistening gaze was down on her hands as she fumbled a hanky in them. Believing he felt responsible for her father's death, Emelia looked up and said, "This wasn't your fault."

She told him about the man who'd shot Enzo. "His name was Ricardo Terro. He'd been a member of Elmhurst's Security Team for 6 years before he left to join the Traditori. He knew every corner, every passage, every doorway of my home ... almost as well as I did.

"You couldn't have stopped him," Emelia said with a promising tone. "Philip studied the security tapes. Terro got in through a secured hall with a key card he'd gotten from a man still on my Security Team."

She hesitated, donning a serious expression. "That man had been ... dealt with."

 

[Gabe619]

He heard the words as he watched her face and her eyes. The eyes never lie he had been told once and he liked to think it was true, especially as she had such beautiful ones. He sat silently after she had finished trying to digest the words. It wasn't his fault ...? He blinked, he must look so stupid right now as he looked like a deer in the headlights as he tried to absorb the words and the emotions that came with them.

"It wasn't my fault." He said the words out aloud as if trying them out to see how they sounded.

Then it hit and he sagged back into the seat as if a weight had been lifted that he hadn't known he was carrying, only he had known and he had carried it for days now, wearing him down, making him snap at his friends, making him irritable. A smile finally came to his lips, hardly an expression one should have at a funeral.

"I was so sure .... so sure I had let you and your father down. I had given you my word and then ..." He didn't have to continue, she would know what he meant. He leaned forward again and took her hands and fuck anyone who saw them .... though at this distance through a blacked out window they would have to have pretty damn good eyes. "I have missed you too, so very much. I felt your pain, but I couldn't face you, I was so sure you would want me to leave you alone, to never come close to you again .... I don't think I could of bared that. To not see you again."

That was more than he had ever told her about how he felt. It had just come out of him, the release of tension having loosened his tongue too it seemed. Now he watched her expression for a totally different reaction. How would she take such words coming from him?

 

[PennySaver]

Emelia and Marcus:

"It wasn't my fault."

Emelia studied Marcus as he spoke the words. He'd said them more to himself than to her, she felt. He looked relieved, and that made her happy. To ensure he knew he was correct, she repeated, "It wasn't your fault."

He took her hands in his. She smiled and squeezed; it was nice to feel him, even if it was only his hands on hers. She wanted more and -- suddenly feeling girlish and frisky -- was tempted to pull Marcus over to her seat. But a knock on the outside of the window was followed by Philip opening the door, saying with a serious, meaningful tone, "We need to go, Donna."

Emelia understood the seriousness in her bodyguard's tone. She looked to Marcus and reluctantly repeated Philip's words, "We need to go." Smiling, she added, "But ... you'll come to Elmhurst soon ... next week ... after all of this settles down."

It was less a question than it was insistence, and by all this she meant the actions in which their respective people were involved at this very moment. She released her hold on Marcus's hand and sat back into her seat. "Thank you, Marcus ... for everything."

 

[Gabe619]

He stepped from the limo, smiling at Phillip who could easily tell the Untouchable leader was moving with a much lighter step now. He hadn't heard what had been said in the car, but he could guess. He had seen the guilt written all over Cole from the day of the battle till now. Phillip felt relieved Marcus had managed to shed the load. Guilt could destroy anyone, even a man as strong as Marcus Cole.

For his part Marcus walked back up the hill toward the uniforms all watching him. It was time to put on a act, an Oscar winning one too if he was any judge. He knew some of the cops before him would be reporting back to their paymasters that he had spent time alone with Emelia D'Angelo. Their owners would want to know what was said, or lacking that information how Cole seemed to take it. He looked up and surveyed the men watching him, his face tight with suppressed, fake, anger.

"What are you lot doing standing around with your thumbs up your asses for? You're finished protection detail here so get back out on patrol. I don't need to be holding your fucking hands after getting told to back off from that overbearing bitch!!" He shouted, the anger evident in his voice.

The cops looked at each other and moved off, some faster than others wanting to get away from the angry detective. But some looked back, as if assessing him for the truth of his emotion. He took names and faces of those cops, he would remember them.

 

[PennySaver]

At Enzo D'Angelo's funeral:

Kylie Parker didn't particularly like funerals, even when the deceased was a lowlife Organized Crime boss like Enzo D'Angelo. She'd never met the man, of course, but if he had been anything like his manipulative, bitch of a daughter, Emelia, Kylie knew she wouldn't have liked him in the least.

Kylie had neither professional nor personal reason to attend the dead Don's farewell. Truth was, the only reason she'd come was that she'd always looked good in black and recently she'd purchased a sexy new LBD that she'd still been waiting to wear out.

Oh, sure, it wasn't exactly proper for a funeral with the way it boosted her B-cups to look more like Cs and hugged her tight, athletic ass in a way that caused men's eyes to follow her as she passed them. But then, Kylie wasn't here to pay her respects but had come instead to do a little reconnaissance on Emmy D.

Kylie couldn't help but notice some irregularities over the past two months or more regarding the activities of Detective Marcus Cole's Untouchables and the D'Angelo Crime Family's members. There was just something about these two groups of very different people that didn't sit right with Kylie. She didn't know what it was, of course, but she knew something was fishy in Denmark.

And then she saw it: Marcus Cole descending a small knoll, escorted by Soldiers of the D'Angelo Family to a stretch limousine into which Kylie had earlier seen Emelia make herself comfortable. She still didn't know what this meant, but it meant something.

The D'Angelo Family had dozens, scores, possibly hundreds of cops of different ranks and different departments on their payroll, and for all Kylie knew, Marcus was one of them. Did that mean that Emelia had penetrated the whole Untouchables bubble? Did her reach extend to the Governor's spic-n-span Task Force on Organized Crime?

Kylie wasn't entirely convinced of that simply on the evidence of the Detective taking a seat in Emmy D's car for two or three minutes. The fact that he'd done so in public -- surrounded by other cops, other criminals, even other Crime Family leaders -- made Kylie think that there was something more here than just a dirty cop visiting the holder of his penny bank.

"Parker!"

Kylie nearly leapt out of her body-hugging dress and heels at the sound of a gruff male voice calling her name. She turned to find one of her fellow Narcotics Detectives hurrying toward her, his phone up to his ear. She nodded acknowledgment of him, expecting that he was simply greeting her on his way by, but he stopped short near her as he concluded his call.

"We're on," the man said, his way of telling her that they were about to get back to work. Her expression of confused curiosity led him to say, "The it-shay is itting-hay the an-fay, and you're not exactly dressed for what's coming."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I just got word," he said, grasping her by the elbow and turning her toward the distant parking lot where many of the funeral-attending cops had parked their private vehicles or patrol cruisers. "There was a fire in the holding cells at the Justice Center Detention Center."

Kylie gestured at her body-hugging dress, asking, "Do I look like a fucking fireman?"

"Corazzo, Costa, Palmiero..." he began, listing names he knew Kylie would find familiar. He continued, "The Lenzi Brothers and Roberto Zanini--"

"Slow the fuck down!" Kylie snapped as she struggled to stay on her feet in four inch heels as he led her across the soft lawn of the cemetery. "Yeah, so what? What about them?"

"They were all there ... in the JCDC," he explained. "They were picked up in connection to--"

"The clinic bombing, yeah, I know," Kylie cut in. Her mind had still been on Marcus and Emelia in the limo together, and only now -- as she came to a sudden stop and looked hard at the other Narc' -- did the man's words suddenly sink in. "A fire in the cells...? You mean ... someone fire bombed them."

"They're all dead, everyone one of them," the man said, correcting, "All 'cept for Roberto Zanini, but they're saying he might not last the night."

"Who did it?" she asked, already thinking that the answer was Emmy D.

"They don't know," he said, gesturing for Kylie to continue to follow him. "They want us to find out. We gotta go. It's all hands on deck 'cause that isn't the only situation we've got. There was a car explosion downtown. They think it was Alfonce Pagnani, and Maddog Leoni got his head blown right off his shoulders, literally, by a sniper in a restaurant in the Bradford district."

"When did this all happen?"

"It's happening now!" he answered. "It started, what, half an hour ago, but it's still happening now. There's 9-1-1 calls coming in from all over the city, and our surveillance teams are watching Spics getting whacked all over the City."

Kylie tilted her head at the man's use of the racial slur but didn't say anything about it. She was probably the most racially, ethnically, and religiously accepting cop on the force, but there was nothing to be gained from trying to force political correctness on her fellow officers, particularly the old guys who still remembered a time when men of color couldn't even join the force and the only women on it were in little scooters putting tickets on windshields.

"I'll catch up," she told him, waving him onward. As the man hurried away, again lifting his phone to his ear, Kylie looked back over her shoulder toward Marcus Cole, who was now standing all by his lonesome atop the little knob from which he'd earlier been summoned.

She wondered whether or not he knew about the mayhem taking place across Capital City. In turn, she wondered whether or not he'd had foreknowledge of it. Was that the reason for sitting with Emelia in her car, just half an hour after the priest had dismissed the friends, family, associates, and enemies of Enzo D'Angelo?

Marcus started down the little hill, likely toward his own vehicle in one of the parking lots on the cemetery's perimeter. Kylie considered her next action carefully, then hurriedly took off after him. She only traveled thirty yards or so before she finally stripped off her heels and began running barefoot across the cool, sometimes wet grass toward him.

Finally close and nearly to the pavement where her nylons would be even further destroyed, Kylie called out, "Detective!"

Marcus heard the call, turned to see Kylie, and came to a stop. She slowed down a bit, catching her breath as she walked the last 20 yards or so. When she was within arm's reach, she offered out her hand, greeting him, "Kylie Parker, Narcotics."

She didn't know if he was aware of her or not. They'd never worked closely together on a case, and the only times she could recall having crossed his path at CCPD was in the hall with perhaps a smile or a nod being their only interaction.

Regarding her service to Emmy D -- indentured service, really -- Emelia had told Marcus about Kylie but hadn't told Kylie about Marcus. After they parted their hands again, Kylie asked boldly, "What is it that you do for Emelia D'Angelo?"

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus had been in his own head as he walked back to his car. He was far more relaxed now after finding out exactly how Enzo had died and seeing that Emelia didn't blame him. He actually felt happy, an emotion sorely missing the last week or so. So he hadn't at first heard Kylie approaching until she called out. Lifting his head and turning he saw her approaching in a very hot little black dress. His eyes looked her over with both curiosity and arousal. He had seen her at the precinct of course, usually in tight jeans and shirts, she was a very attractive woman and he knew more than a few of her colleagues wanted inside her panties, but in that dress she was stunning. Then she asked her question and he laughed.

"What do I do for her? Mostly try to get her and her goons arrested, why?" He turned the question around. "Aren't you a little out of uniform, detective?"

Of course plain clothes detectives like Kylie and he didn't have uniforms. Well, they did but they only tended to come out for funerals. Marcus wondered why she had got all dressed up for the funeral of a man she supposedly hated. He knew that she was one of Emelia's pet cops of course, the Donna had clued him in just in case his and Kylie's paths crossed, but why was she here? He had made sure to check every cop assigned to the protection detail and her name hadn't been on it and by the way she was dressed he assumed she would of been part of the mourner's but he hadn't seen her around the gravesite.

 

[PennySaver]

Kylie and Marcus after Enzo's funeral:

As she'd made her approach to him and asked her accusatory question, Kylie had seen the way that Marcus looked her up and down. There was nothing unexpected of it, of course; she looked hot. Still, it warmed her up a bit to see the hunger for her in his expression when he again scanned her body as pointed out, "Aren't you a little out of uniform, detective?"

Kylie knew the true meaning of the question: he wasn't actually asking about her clothing she'd worn to the funeral but was asking about her reason for being at the funeral in the first place. She'd known that others from the Force might wonder that, and she'd already practiced a response: "It's called undercover, Detective. I'm here to keep an eye out for ... unusual interactions between those people who -- like you yourself said -- we are supposed to be arresting."

Kylie moved closer to Marcus, leaving fewer than six inches between them; she hadn't donned perfume as she hadn't been intending on meeting men, but the various body and hair cleansers she'd used that morning had their own scents, and now they wafted over Marcus as a light breeze blew past her.

"I don't know if you heard yet," she said in a softer tone, meant just for him and not the other cops and non-Departmental mourners who were passing by toward their own vehicles. Kylie glanced off the direction of the cemetery's exit, just as the six-car personal motorcade of Emelia D'Angelo was passing out the gate, then looked back to Marcus. "Your girl friend there is killing people all over town ... right now, as we speak."

Kylie's use of the term girlfriend was meant to evoke a response out of Marcus that she might not get otherwise. It was a commonly used tactic during the interrogation of a suspect, and after seeing the Detective enter and exit the car of Emmy D at her father's funeral, Kylie certainly did suspect something.

"I don't suppose you and your task force--" She emphasized those last two words as if the Untouchables were anything but an authorized, law enforcing entity; again, it was simply to elicit a response from Marcus. She finished, "--had any fore knowledge of what's going on out there in the City right now?"

 

[Gabe619]

Marcus stared at her silently for a moment, his expression unreadable, but his eyes had focused to a cold hard stare.

"Detective, if you have anything you want to accuse me of just come out and say it. But I have more important things to do than stand around and listen to your conspiracy theories, no matter how hot you look in that dress." He gave another slow look over, enjoying it immensely, before flashing a smile and walking off to his car. He wondered if he should mention to Emelia that her pet detective was getting suspicious. Would it be worth bringing her into the fold?

As he clambered into his Mustang and started the engine he glanced one more at Kylie, she was still standing there watching him. With a wave he put his foot down and drove away, not in a spray of gravel as he would have liked to do, he was in a graveyard after all, you had to maintain some decency, but fast enough. As he drove back to the Hanson building he smiled as he recalled Emelia's invitation to go out to Elmhurst. He expected the place would be swarming with interior decorators and the gardens being worked over by an army of very expensive gardeners. For sure Phillip would be checking these people out down to their fillings after what happened to Enzo. One of their own, one of the soldiers they had trusted gave up the key to let the assassin in. His expression grew harder. He would hate to be the person right now, he was sure the payment for what he had done would be long and very, very painful.

 

[PennySaver]

(OOC: The second half of this post is a much-edited version of a post that was put up previously, then taken down because it didn't fit the storyline at that specific time. You'll want to read it again if you are following our story.)

Kylie and Marcus at the funeral:

Marcus challenged Kylie's insinuation that he had something crooked going on with Emelia, finishing with, "But I have more important things to do than stand around and listen to your conspiracy theories, no matter how hot you look in that dress."

He looked her up and down again, and -- try as she might -- Kylie failed to suppress the smile that parted her lips. She watched him as he continued on to his car, a classic Mustang that only made Kylie's loins yearn for him more. She didn't know Marcus Cole, of course, but that hadn't prevented her from hurriedly parting her thighs for men in the past.

Kylie would have to think on this some more over the days to come. Right now, though, she had things to do...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

Midnight, two days later:

Kylie Parker strolled out onto the stage of the Rock House East carrying an axe over her shoulder. She seriously looked the part of a hard rocker, from the wild hair to the leather coat and -- because she was female and it was expected of her -- the tight-fitting jeans and high heeled leather boots that emphasized her tight ass and cropped tee shirt that showed off her flat belly and tits that, while smallish compared to many women, had the most wonderfully swollen nipples when she was excited.

And excited Kylie was at the moment; she always was when she was undercover.

Black Crush, one of Capital City's home-grown hard rock bands, had finished their eight-song set just minutes earlier before retiring to the dressing room for the usual adulation from their groupies, lines of coke for those members not done with their evening, and needles of heroin for those ready to lay back, relax, and let things slip away.

Kylie had been getting to know the band's drummer over the past several months, long before the whole Untouchables era began; her initial reason for this had been to uncover the name of a heroin dealer whose bad junk had killed six high school students at a birthday party earlier in the year.

By absolute coincidence and fortunate happenstance, it had been learned that Giovanni D'Amato had been getting his knob shined by the Black Crush's female rhythm guitarist. The band had been away in Los Angeles for three months recording their debut album, which meant that Gio -- who by all reports had been saving his cum up for this woman -- would most definitely be in the club tonight.

"He's not going to be there," Kylie had scoffed when Philip contacted her. "His operation, the entire D'Amato Family, is on its death bed. Half of their Capos and Lieutenants are dead ... the rest are either in jail or have fled with their tails between their legs. Giovanni's territory is being carved up by the other Families, peacefully and otherwise. And you think he's going to show up at a public venue to get his cock sucked?"

"He'll be there," Emelia's bodyguard promised. "They say this woman's mouth is like a Hoover, and Gio's blue balls have gotta be screaming out for release by now."

Kylie had thought this a waste of her time, but seeing how she was still indentured to Emelia D'Angelo, she'd agreed to do her part to capture the man who all of Capital City was trying to locate. "Why can't you just have CCPD raid the club?"

"And have his thugs shoot the place up?" Philip had challenged her. "No. We need you to get him away from his Soldiers ... get him isolated, away from the crowds."

"I'll be by myself?" she'd asked.

"No, not at all," Philip promised. "As soon as you get him alone, my people will move in to take custody of him. We'll turn him over to CCPD."

Kylie had doubted her ability to do this; she'd even questioned whether or not she would survive this. Philip's response to this concern was answered in a way Kylie hadn't expected. He'd pulled out his phone, pressed a speed dial number, and chatted with the person on the other end of the line for a moment before handing the phone to Kylie, saying, "Donna D'Angelo for you, Detective."

Kylie had hesitated before taking the phone, and once she'd greeted the other woman, Emelia told her, "Miss Parker, you help us get Giovanni D'Amato tonight and your debt to me is paid."

"Paid?" Kylie had whispered. "In full? I mean ... my debt, to the bookies--"

"Paid in full," Emelia had promised.

That had been enough for Kylie, and now here she was walking across the dark stage pretending to be the rocker/cocksucker who Giovanni D'Amato had come to see, both on stage and later behind it. The actual guitarist was sitting on a toilet in the club's Ladies Lounge after Kylie had given her just enough heroine to knock her out but not harm her; Kylie had then stripped her down to her panties and bra, donned the shed clothing, and made her way out onto the dark stage.

She set the guitar aside, turned to look out on the private mezzanine seating area in which Gio was surrounded by thugs, and smiled; she knew that with the stage lights off and extensions in her hair to make it look much longer than it actually was, that at this distance it would be hard if not impossible for the Don to realize he was getting taken.

Kylie walked up to the mike that the true strummer had used during the set, tapped a finger to see that it was still energized, and said softly, "You coming, lover?"

She lifted the front of her tee to flash an unbridled tit, laughed, and walked away. In the hallway leading to the multiple little rooms -- offices, supply closets, band member room, etc. -- Kylie waited halfway down for sign of her target. The first body she saw was one of the bodyguards. He hesitated to check the scene, then headed at Kylie. She had expected the hall to be checked before Gio came down it; she was relying on her dramatic makeup and similar body style to the actual guitarist and the fact that none of the bodyguards had ever really met the woman up close and personal to save her here.

The man continued all the way to the end of the hall, checked to ensure that the fire door was locked from the inside, then passed by Kylie again to fetch his boss. A moment later, Gio was following his man's path. Kylie turned her head enough to let the wild hair hide it a bit, then opened a door to a little room that the Club's manager had made available to the Crime Boss specifically for these encounters.

Gio followed his faux-cocksucker inside, closed the door behind him, looked over her fine ass, and growled with hunger, "God, I've missed you."

Kylie spun quickly, sticking a needle into the man's neck as her hand went over his mouth. He struggled a bit, successfully fighting off the woman who was only half his weight. But the drugs hit his brain within two seconds, and as she held his hands in an attempt to keep his flailing from drawing attention, Kylie helped Gio down to the little room's floor.

She stepped back to survey the scene, as well as listen to the sounds of boots running her way. But there was no sound other than the stereo playing in the band's lounge. Kylie's heart was pounding harder than it had in forever. She gave it another minute or so, to ensure that Gio was out cold, then opened the small window in the wall behind her. As soon as she did, Philip Russo appeared.

"Get me the fuck out of here!" Kylie growled.

She went out headfirst with the man's assistant. As she watched, four men went in the way she'd come out, one after another. A moment later, the unconscious Don was being pushed out to Philip and another two men. Gio was carried to a car, tossed into the trunk, and driven away.

"That's it?" Kylie asked with a hopeful tone. "I'm done...? I'm free?"

Philip gestured to one of his men, who handed him a manilla envelope. Emelia's bodyguard offered it out to her, saying, "A going away gift from Donna D'Angelo."

Kylie hesitated before taking and opening the envelope, finding $100,000 still in their original bank straps. She looked up to find Philip and the other man heading off to get into a second vehicle to make their escape. She looked at the money again, then called out, "Nice doing business with you."

 

[Gabe619]

Teddy Yarrow was on delivery duty, not because he particularly wanted to be, but when Marcus had looked around for someone to run a new bunch of warrant requests over to the DA's office he had been the one twiddling his thumbs. Since the battle of Elmhurst, as the media was now calling it, things had slowed a little. The funeral and concurrent assassinations had taken place in the space of a few short hours, but outside that the city seemed to be catching its breath. That was ok by Teddy. He had gone through a crucible of fire since joining the Untouchables, but he wouldn't change a thing. He and Kitty were now a thing, he thought, though he hadn't had the guts to actually ask her if she was his girlfriend now ... and part of him was scared the answer would be no. Not that he minded her just grabbing him for full on mindless sex, he very much enjoyed it. And he didn't even mind that she had basically taken his virginity by raping him in their car that night, in fact he would always remember it with great arousal. It was just the more time they spent together the more feelings he had for her, over and above arousal at seeing her hot tight body. He knew he was falling in love with her and if she told him that he was just one of many guys and girls she used to release her tension he wasn't sure what that would do to him.

Pulling into a parking space at the law courts restricted to police officers (his car had the tag in the windscreen so he wouldn't be towed), Teddy grabbed the folder of warrants and made his way inside. He had started to dress a little differently too, at first he had felt almost uncomfortable in plain clothes while on duty, but now he was dressed in worn, faded pale blue jeans, black boots, a white t-shirt and a brown leather jacket, his badge attached to the belt of his jeans so it showed to the guards inside the building. He had been here a few times now so knew his way and as per usual the place was bustling with activity. Cops in uniforms, cops in plain clothes, lawyers, judges, secretaries, PA's, the place was like an anthill that had been kicked over. Business as usual then. He made his way up the stairs rather than waiting in the group at the banks of elevators and soon entered the outer office of ADA Shovelli.

"Hey Michelle." He greeted the cute young assistant at her desk next to the door to her bosses office where she stood guard.

The young girl looked up and smiled, "Hey Teddy, more warrants? I think my boss will scream if you guys bring her many more. I swear she has writers cramp from signing them all, not to mention having to keep going to find a judge to seal the deal with them." She glanced at the door to Shovelli's office. "I think she is reviewing evidence your mysterious Mephisto sent over, but give me a sec."

She picked up her phone and pushed a number, waited a second or two then announced that Teddy was here. A few seconds more and she replaced the receiver and smiled at the young man.

"Go right on in, she's ready for you."

"Thanks, Michelle." Teddy gave her a warm smile and knocked on the door before entering even though he had gotten the all clear.

He gave the ADA a wave with the folder in his hand as he closed the door behind him. Laura seemed focused on watching something on her computer monitor.

 

[PennySaver]

ADA Laura Shovelli and "Untouchable" Teddy Yarrow

(OOC: Keep in mind that the images below are greatly out of context. They are all I have for Laura.)


Laura was going bonkers. Nuts. Absolute cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

The District Attorney's Office had been running 24/7 for over a month with the investigation and issuances of warrants related to Capital City's Anti-Organized Crime efforts. And there was the dozen or more Grand Juries and three dozen criminal trials, 9 of which Laura herself was part of the prosecution team as either primary or secondary.

But there had been results, amazing results, that Laura could never have imagined seeing with her own eyes until meeting Marcus Cole and the Untouchables.

The D'Amato Family was done. Cooked! The entire organization had collapsed, with Capos, Lieutenants, and Soldiers either dead, dispersed, or detained. Don Giovanni D'Amato was missing, though, escaped from the City; Laura suspected he'd fled to a non-extradition country with a suitcase full of millions of the Crime Family's ill-gotten gains by now.

She couldn't know that Emelia D'Angelo's people had captured Gio days earlier and were holding him in an undisclosed location. They were delaying turning him over, waiting on Laura's Grand Jury to finalize a 144-count indictment against the Don, based upon what the bugs at State Senator Eric Davis's office had revealed, as well as what they'd learned from the various thugs who were desperately trading what they knew for reduced sentences.

Laura sat back in her leather chair, staring up at the ornate ceiling of the 140-year-old building. She'd always loved her office, but Jesus, she wanted the hell out of here right now, even for just an hour. She needed a break; she needed a distraction.

She smiled to herself, looking to the laptop sitting near her desktop. You shouldn't, she told herself. It's not right. But she couldn't resist. Pulling open a desk drawer, she retrieved a flash drive, inserted it into the laptop, located a specific file, and opened it. She snatched up a pair of earbuds, inserted them, and activated the Bluetooth on the computer.

Laura was watching the video less than a minute before her PA buzzed her on the intercom. She was kind of engrossed at the moment and misunderstood Michelle; she thought the slightly younger woman had said that Officer Yarrow was leaving arrest warrant applications, not coming into her office.

She missed the knock on the door as well, only realizing that she was no longer alone when she caught movement beyond the laptop's screen. Laura practically leaped out of her chair, quickly pulling her hands from between her thighs where her long, slim fingers had been inside her panties, parting her labia and doing circles upon her clit.

"What the--!" she began before going quickly silent. She snatched a couple of tissues from the box on a little table immediately to her left, drying her natural lubricant from her fingertips as she changed course: "Hey, Teddy. Nice to see you. Sorry, I, um ... I thought Michelle said ... never mind, not important."

She smoothed her dress down her hips and thighs as she stood, coming out from behind her desk and heading toward the attached, private bathroom. "Need to slap some water on my face."

Laura gestured toward the corner of her desk, directing, "Just leave'em there on the stack. Left stack, not the right one. Left stack is the stuff I'm going to ignore today; right stack is the stuff I'll ignore tomorrow."

In the bathroom, she washed the stickiness from her fingers and checked her makeup. The latter wasn't something about which she had to worry too much as she had a naturally perfect complexion and rarely wore much more than a little pink on her lip and black on her eyes.

Laura emerged from the bathroom to find Teddy heading for the exit, thinking that she was done with him. She took in the view of his backside, that tight little ass in those tight-fitting, worn jeans, and -- before she even realized she was doing it -- called to him, "Where ya going, Jumpstreet?"

He turned to look at her with an expression that made Laura smile. She giggled as she headed slowly back to her chair, confessing, "Yeah, I know all about your nickname. That girl, Kitty ... she told me, couple of weeks back maybe ... who knows?"

She stopped near the side of her desk, still fully within the young man's view; Laura wore a mid-thigh length dress that clung tightly to her slim, curvy figure, her B-cup bosom boosted up and in almost to the point of being too sexy for the workplace. She gave Teddy a moment to admire her if he had the desire to do so, while taking a moment to admire him as she most definitely had such desire.

"Hey ... I, um..." Laura began before going quiet again. She didn't know what to say, but she knew she didn't want the man to leave just yet. She looked to the forms he'd delivered, saying with sarcastic humor, "Thanks for those. I needed more work."

She couldn't take her eyes off Teddy, looking him up and down conspicuously as he stood there near the door. Thoughts Laura shouldn't be having were overwhelming her exhausted and now horny mind ... thoughts about this young cop who in a certain light sometimes looked like he was barely out of high school, let alone a CCPD Academy graduate and now experienced anti-Organized Crime veteran, of sorts.

Then ... one of those thoughts she was having got the best of her. She stepped behind her desk and looked at the blacked out screen of the laptop. She looked up to Teddy again as he stood there expectantly, presuming she wasn't done with him yet.

"Listen, I, um ... I wonder..." she began, searching for the correct way to go about what she was contemplating. She came out from behind her desk, heading purposefully for the office door. "Laura, Officer Yarrow and I have to go over these new arrest warrant applications. Hold my calls, okay?"

The PA acknowledged, and Laura closed the door behind her ... locking it. She passed by Teddy, giving him a flirty look on her way back to her desk; she put just a little extra sway in her ass once it was again in the young man's view.

"Come over here, Teddy ... please," Laura said, pulling out her chair. "I need you to help me with one of the videos your boy Mephisto gave me. It's a lot of mumbling and incomprehensible chat that I can't make out. I thought maybe you could help me interpret it."

She waited for him to drop into her chair and -- leaning over such that she was intimately close to him -- she tapped the mouse pad, bringing the darkened screen back to life. Another tap took the video file back to the beginning and started it playing.

In the dark reflection of the desktop's monitor, Laura watched Teddy's face as the scene on the laptop unfolded. The earbuds were still active, so he wasn't hearing what was happening; Laura picked the little Bluetooth do-dads up and carefully inserted them into Teddy's ears, adding an extra dimension to the erotic, even lewd act he was witnessing...

 

[PennySaver]

Emelia, with Don Giovanni D'Amato:

Walking around Elmhurst, Donna D'Angelo greeted one contractor after another, one laborer after another, one armed guard after another. The repair of the mansion and property surrounding it had begun the very day that the damage had occurred. Elmhurst was Emelia's home, and the combined D'Amato/Traditori attack had left it open to the elements in multiple locations. She wasn't going to live elsewhere, even temporarily, so she and Philip had begun making arrangements for the revitalization of the Family home immediately.

Making the work easier was the fact that those attackers had essentially been wiped out. The Traditori and D'Amatos who'd attacked the Clinic and D'Angelo home had been dealt with, of course: most had been killed or injured and then arrested; those who'd escaped or had planned the attacks from afar were later found and detained or, in many cases, executed.

For the first time in weeks, Emelia felt comfortable and safe not only walking around her own home but venturing out in town as well. Oh, she still had her motorcade escort, of course, but at least Philip had permitted her some freedom.

"I like that," she told one of the anonymous workers who was repairing the door to the mansion's basement. The man nodded to the Donna with respect and thanked her for the appreciation. She patted him on the shoulder as she headed for the descending stairs, saying, "Keep up the good work."

At the bottom of the stairway, Emelia found more workers. The man who'd killed her father had riddled the walls with rifle fire. Down here in the basement, the walls were all painted cinder block, of course, but the high-powered rifle fire had still done damage to it, as well as to other objects all about the space.

"Take a break, everyone," Emelia told the half dozen workers.

They knew she was up to more than simply giving them a few minutes of rest; they didn't hesitate to acknowledge Emelia and her order, setting aside their tools and paint brushes to head upstairs. Once they were all gone, the guard opened the door to the panic room and stepped aside. Emelia entered, wincing at the smell.

"Wow, someone really needs a bath, don't they?" she said with humor as she stepped up closer to the man shackled to a heavy metal chair. Emelia gave Don Giovanni D'Amato a long look as she began a slow-paced encircling of him. She looked to the man who'd been put in charge of Gio's care, saying, "Why don't you take a break." She looked to the other guard, adding, "Both of you. Give the Don and I a chance to talk."

Once the others were gone, Emelia sat in a chair that had been put a few feet before D'Amato for her frequent visits. Again, she studied him: his face was black, blue, purple, and swollen; his lips, both upper and lower, were split and swollen as well; the entirety of his naked body bore bruises and scorch marks at the sights were electricity and/or hot irons had been applied.

Emelia had known of such treatment long before the now-ended war between the D'Amatos and D'Angelos, of course; she'd grown up during the Post 9/11 torture era and -- like most of the world's population -- had seen the leaked images from Afghani prisons and secret CIA extraordinary rendition sites, as well as the decapitation videos from such terrorist organizations as ISIS and Al-Qaeda.

She would never have imagined that she'd be able to sit in a room with a man who'd been subjected to such treatment, let alone be able to actually witness it, as she had on several occasions over the past few days. Emelia had even contemplated picking up the metal rod and holding its glowing end against Gio's flesh a few times yet hadn't. That was a step she simply wasn't ready to take ... yet.

"How you doing, Don D'Amato?" Emelia asked with a soft, respectful tone, using the title he'd had when he sent men to kill her and her father. "Would you like water? Something to eat maybe?"

She stood to retrieve a bottle of water, opened it, and returned to him, putting it at his lips. She tilted the bottle; most of it dribbled down his chin to his chest, mixing with the old blood that was dry and the new blood that hadn't quite yet. Seeing the new mess, Emelia said, "Sorry about that. My error."

She set the bottle aside, got a second one for herself, and returned to her seat. Sipping, she told him, "I have been informed by my sources in the DA's Office that the Grand Jury sat by Assistant District Attorney Laura Shovelli is close to issuing your indictment."

Emelia flashed the man a friendly smile, promising, "This is almost over."

Gio had sat there still and silent until now but now began sobbing. He begged, "Please ... please, just kill me."

The Donna chuckled softly. "Oh, I'm sorry, Don D'Amato. I can't do that." Again, she smiled. "We're not done here."

Standing, Emelia went to the open panic room door and called the men back. She nodded toward Gio, a gesture for which the two men needed no more explanation. As she stood there, the two men returned to beating Gio with their fists, electrocuting him with a pair of car batteries in parallel for the increased amperage, and again applying the glowing end of the poker.

Through it all, Emelia just stood there quietly, her gaze set on the screaming man. Gio only periodically glanced at the woman having him tortured. Eventually, she waved the men off, stepped closer to her hostage, smiled again, and promised, "I'll be back in a few hours ... so that we can continue our conversation."

Turning away, Emelia gave the man in charge a knowing look, and as she headed for and up the stairs, she listened to the continuation of the screams behind her.

 

[Gabe619]

ADA Laura Shovelli and "Untouchable" Teddy Yarrow
Teddy felt a nervous shyness come over him as he watched Laura move around her office. He hadn't felt that since the night with Kitty in the car, the night she had taken his virginity. He had thought he was beyond it now, had outgrown it. So much had happened to him in the time since, he was a veteran now of gunfights, battles, even assassinations, he was hardened. The only person he thought could still reduce him to his boyish ways was Kitty. Her firmness, dominance, the way she spoke and used him for her pleasure got them both off in such incredible ways. He licked his lips as the ADA locked the door behind him and walked back to her desk. She was incredibly hot, he had always thought so, even when he used to see her on tv at press conferences. His eyes dropped to her ass as her hips swayed and he felt his cock twitch to life, slowly hardening.

"Not now, not now, not now." He started to whisper under his breath. He would be so embarrassed if the ADA saw he had got hard for her, and probably she would feel embarrassed too. He placed his hands before him as if standing at ease, but they hid his growing cock bulge in the tight jeans that Kitty liked seeing him in. Her use of his nickname had surprised him till she told him Kitty had told her what it was. For a moment he wondered why the ADA would have been talking about him to Kitty, or why Kitty and the ADA would have been alone chatting anyway, not that it was anything to do with him.

When Laura had asked for his help he had just shrugged and walked around her desk to drop into her big black chair, it seemed innocent enough. He didn't know a great deal about computers, that being what he had assumed she needed help with, it being more Mephisto's line of work. But as she told him she needed his aid to comprehend a video the hacker had sent over he nodded and relaxed back in the chair as she leaned into and over him to tap at the laptop. His eyes flicked to the side, admiring her breasts in the low cut tight business dress she wore today, then flicked back to the dark screen as she pressed play.

On the screen he could see Camille, Senator Davis and another man who he recognised as Councilman Dean Vaselli. His eyes widened as he saw Davis grab Camille and pull her into a deep kiss, the secretary stiffening in his arms as the Councilman moved behind her and pushed her dress up, exposing her smooth full black ass in red thing panties. He couldn't hear a thing until suddenly he could. He had been so fixated on the scene he hadn't even felt Laura place the earbuds in his ears, but suddenly he could hear everything.

"Damn, Davis, she is as hot as you told me, look at this ass on her." Vaselli laughed, spanking Camille who jumped and gasped.

"Please, Senator ... I should go back outside, what if someone comes in?" It was obvious to anyone that Camille was not happy with this, not a willing participant at all.

"No one will come in, you know that Camille, now show the Councilman how good you are at sucking white cock you black bitch."

Teddy wanted to look away, he felt disgust, his stomach felt like he might throw up, but the more he watched the more he couldn't stop watching. What the fuck was wrong with him?! Camille was now on her knees, undoing Vasellis pants, unzipping them, reaching in to pull his little white dick out. It was already hard, Teddy saw, and the man moaned and let his head fall back as Camille took it deep in her full red lips and started bobbing her head. the Councilman reached down, grabbing her long black hair and starting to face fuck her.

"Oh yessss, thats it .... fucking slut, Davis told me you love it hard and rough, fucking take my cock you whore."

Teddy felt his cock hardening in his jeans, bulging them and tenting them obviously. He suddenly realised that Laura was still leaning over him, he quickly put his hands in his lap, but couldn't hide his flushed face or wide eyes.

"I, um .... what exactly ... I mean, which part did you want help with, Ma'am?" He managed to get out, his voice a little hoarse as he tried to drag his eyes off the rape on the screen, but only succeeded in turned his head a little, but his eyes stayed fixed to the video.

Now Davis was pushing Camille over his desk as Vaselli moved around it and pulled her lips back to his cock as Davis ripped her thong off, throwing it to the floor as he pulled his own cock out and rammed it into Camille's pussy in one deep thrust. He then reached up and pulled the zipper on the back of her dress down to her ass, grabbing the material and pulling it down hard, roughly until the top of the dress was bunched around her waist, exposing the matching red lace bra on her full, firm black tits. Davis reached under her, under the bra, cupping her breasts and squeezing.

"Councilman, I fuck this bitch at least once a day. You give me your support for the new free way act I have planned and you can use her anytime you like." The Senator stated his hips pounding Camille into the hard wood of his desk.

 

[Gabe619]

Devon and Jennifer:

The sky was clear blue, not a cloud to be seen anywhere. The air still felt a little chilly though under the noon day sun as Devon McCauley slowly walked over the carefully manicured lawn of the cemetery. In one hand he held two red roses. He knew the way to the burial plots by heart he had been here so often, though he admitted with a heavy heart less and less over the years. It wasn't that the pain had diminished, or that he missed them less, it was just he had tried to get on with his life but only succeeded in burying himself in work at the garage. The nightmares hadn't gone away or got less painful, he had still woken up in a cold sweat calling their names ... or at least he had used to.

He finally came to a halt before the two grave markers. Two grey granite stones as cold as the air surrounding them today. Devon looked down and read the writing engraved on them. 'Stephanie McCauley, 12/09/1967 - 04/06/2015, Loving wife and mother. Never forgotten.' and on the stone set beside that one 'Angela McCauley, 03/01/2003 - 04/06/2015, A loving spirit taken before her time.'. He leaned forward and brushed some dead leaves from the top of the stones, then knelt on one knee as he reached out and traced the words with a fingertip. The plot had been well taken care of by the graveyard keeper and Devon had tried to make sure on each of their birthdays he brought fresh flowers to them and said a few words. Today he gently lay a red rose before each stone before standing again and thrusting his hands into his pockets.

"I'm sorry I haven't been to visit in a while ... I guess, things just got on top of me, you know how it can be." He licked his lips feeling tears starting to well up in his eyes as he sniffed and leaned his head back as he took a deep breath. "I think of you both every day .... every day, and I miss you both so, so much. I had so many plans, things I wanted to do with you both, places I wanted to take you. Angela, you'd be a young woman by now, what ... twenty years old? You'd have had your school proms, and I would of scared the shit out of your boyfriends." He chuckled at the thought and what Angela would have said. She had always been so confident and out going, an irrepressible spirit who brought a smile to everyone she met. "And got an ear bashing from you for scaring them away. Though by now I would of made sure you could look out for yourself." He paused thinking and smiling. "It's funny in a way, I know a young woman just like you, or what I feel you would have grown up to be. She is as beautiful as you, she makes me smile ... I guess that's why I am here, I should just get to it and stop stalling, huh?"

Devon looked at Stephanie's grave stone again. "I didn't think it would happen again. I wasn't looking for it, I swear, but I've fallen in love with someone, Steph. She's amazing, I think you'd have liked her a lot, she is a lot like you and Angela were. She's strong, beautiful, smart and doesn't taken any of my crap." He gave a short laugh. "It's happened so fast, but I know its real, I can feel it, like I felt it when I first saw you Steph. I need you both to know that I will always love you both and I will always visit and talk to you. I just ... I just needed you to know, I guess ... I hoped you would understand." He went silent and hung his head, eyes closed.

"They understand, Devon."

Jen's soft voice came from beside him as she slipped her arm through his. "Steph was a strong woman, you told me. She loved you, they both did, they wouldn't want you to live alone for the rest of your life. I am glad I could come with you and meet them though .... thank you for letting me."

McCauley covered her hand with his and nodded.

The two Untouchables stood in their own silence for a good long time, both looking at the grave stone, both lost in their thoughts until finally Devon knelt and place a kiss on both stones before standing and slipping his arm around Jennifer's shoulders and leading her away. He had made his peace, and Jen was right, he knew Steph and Angela would understand. He felt a little of the weight he had carried lift from his shoulders as they walked back to his car. He looked up, the sky seemed a little bluer now, the sun a little brighter, and he smiled.

 

[PennySaver]

ADA Laura Shovelli and "Untouchable" Teddy Yarrow

Laura couldn't hear the conversation taking place between Davis, Vaselli, and -- to a lesser degree -- Camille, but then she'd watched the video two or three or ten times already since getting it a week ago; she could practically repeat the dialogue word for word now.

"I, um .... what exactly..." Teddy began nervously. "I mean, which part did you want help with, Ma'am?"

"Keep watching, Officer," Laura said, gesturing an extended finger toward the lewd scene unfolding before him. She'd almost called him Jumpstreet again, but -- as she glanced down into his lap and saw the tent before he covered it up -- she was already feeling a bit dirty about her growing desire to rob the Untouchables cradle. To maintain her story that she needed his assistance, she told him, "It's coming up soon."

As Laura watched, Davis began pounding Camille's pussy from one side of the desk as Vaselli returned to shoving his own cock into the PA's mouth from the other. During each viewing, Laura had found it incredible that the woman could perform the things she did so skillfully. She literally looked like a porn star as she took the Councilman's cock deep into her throat without gagging while also having the State Senator's full length slammed deep into her from the other direction.

"Okay, this is the part I need some clarification about," Laura said. Still standing behind Teddy, she leaned closer, until her breasts pressed against the backs of his shoulders. She reached to one of his ears and removed the bud there, putting it into her own; she wouldn't get the stereo sound of what was happening, but hey, it wasn't like she was rocking out to Classis Rock in her home and car or at a club, right? With her mouth close to Teddy's ear and cheek, she reached down to tap her laptop's F8 key to increase the volume. "Right here."

In her single ear, she heard Vaselli ask, "Are you ready for me?"

Laura tapped the mouse pad, pausing the visual recording to ask, Teddy, "My assumption was that the Councilman was asking Miss Carlton if she was ready for him to ejaculate into her mouth. But she's got a mouthful of cock, so ... if she can't answer ... does that constitute unwillingness to accept his ejaculate into her mouth? What if she nods? Can that be considered a nonverbal agreement for him to fill her mouth with his cum?"

She hesitated for Teddy's reaction, smiling wide in delight, knowing that he was horrifically uncomfortable with the situation in which she'd put him. She tapped the pad again, unpausing the pause. In their ears, they heard the State Senator -- not his Personal Assistant -- respond with eagerness, "I've been ready since I saw you pull that thing out."

As they watched, Vaselli -- holding his pants around his thighs -- curled around the desk to stand behind Davis, who at the same time had been opening a desk drawer to pull out a bottle of lube and a string of condoms. Less than a minute later, as Davis ceased his pounding deep into Camille's pussy, the Councilman was carefully slipping his cock into the Senator's ass.

"There's a 1933 State Statute against this kind of thing," Laura said, her tone playful. "Those were very intolerant times. We could present this to the Grand Jury, I guess ... but ... I'd hate for anyone to think I was homophobic or anything."

She couldn't help but giggle, a bit at her joking and a bit at Teddy's response. As they watched, the two men synchronized their thrusts; Vaselli, holding tight to the Senator's hips, drove his body to and fro such that his cock was entering Davis's ass as Davis's was leaving Camillie's pussy and vise versa. Between the three of them, the grunts, moans, and soft cries flooded one ear each of the pair watching them.

Laura's lust was rising to unsafe levels by now. She reached a hand to the back of Teddy's neck, slid her long fingers through his short hair until she found strands long enough to grip, and pulled his head back and to the side. She met his mouth with her own in an opened mouth kiss that was hot and wet. At the same time, she slid the other hand down the front of his torso until it slipped under his own hands, where they were still attempting to hide his seriously erect cock.

She grasped his shaft through the fabric, tightening and relaxing her fingers around it. Then, she spun her office chair and the young cop in it 180 degrees to face her, stood tall, and as she began hurriedly unfastening the buttons running down the front of her dress, she demanded, "Take you dick out."

And all the time, they were still listening to the threesome.

 

[PennySaver]

Devon and Jennifer at his family's gravestones:

Stephanie McCauley ... 48, Jennifer thought to herself as she read the engravings on the stones and did the math. Angela McCauley ... 12 ... fuck.

It just wasn't right for a child to be lost at such a young age, particularly in such a violent way. Jennifer hadn't asked Devon for the specific details on the Bratva-Capelli shootout in which Stephanie and Angela had been killed as bystanders. She had, though, secretly retrieved the police file on the incident and perused it. It had been one of them most violent inter-Family firefights during a period of serious turf wars.

Devon talked to his gone-but-never-forgotten family, then informed his wife, "...I've fallen in love with someone, Steph."

Jennifer was a bit surprised at this. Devon hadn't actually told her he was going to do that; he'd asked her to join him on his visit to his wife and daughter's gravesites, and she'd eagerly and lovingly agreed.

"I just ... I just needed you to know, I guess..." he said toward the stones. "I hoped you would understand."

"They understand, Devon," Jennifer said softly. She believed it to be true.

They finished up and headed back for the SUV they'd checked out from the Untouchables' vast array of vehicles; to better service their need for anonymity at times, the garage had slowly filled to the point that now both levels were more than half full. Jennifer snatched the keys as Devon took them out, reminding him that it was her turn to drive. More than anything, she simply wanted him to have the time to think without maybe running a redlight.

They were passing through what had been D'Amato territory when Jennifer slowed, then suddenly pulled to the curb. She checked the mirror outside her door, then turned in her seat to look back behind her. After a moment, she looked to Devon.

"Bodega back on the opposite corner, southeast," she told him, giving him a moment to find it himself. "Two men entering ... long coats. It's kind of a warm day for that." She looked to the corner again, adding, "Driver at the wheel of the Chevy sitting out front ... engine running. Doesn't look right."

Over the past weeks, the word had gotten out that the former D'Amato territory was no longer being protected. The other Families had been informally negotiating a division of those hundreds of blocks, but a formal deal was still pending. In the meantime, merchants who'd been paying protection money for, obviously, protection were finding themselves on their own.

Jennifer looked to Devon again, saying, "You're the old fart with decades of experience, Grampa. And if you remember, the last time I got into it in a bodega, I shot the man in the hand and you bitched me out for it. So ... how do you want to handle this?"

 

[Gabe619]

ADA Laura Shovelli and "Untouchable" Teddy Yarrow
As the ADA asked his opinion on what constituted a legal form of consent, Teddy was having trouble focusing, or more accurately he was to focused on the scene before him and how Laura was leaning into and over him. Her perfume was amazing, light, subtle and smelled incredible on her skin. He could feel his entire body reacting to the stimulation, not just his rock hard cock. Watching what was basically porn with another woman had never entered his mind before as an option, but now he was seated here with Laura supervising him he found the whole thing very arousing.
"I, um ... I'm not sure ... I mean, well, you would know, right, Ma'am?" He tentatively offered, glancing up into her eyes.

She hadn't answered him, just gave him a smile that only made his nervousness worse. He thought it might be the smile a tiger gave to its prey just before it pounced. She unpaused the video and his eyes went back to the screen, seeing the Councilman walk around behind the Senator and after a moments preparation slid his cock into Davis's ass. Teddy's own eyes widened seeing it. He had never found other men sexual, he admired their look of course. Like Marcus was a very handsome man with a hard body, he could understand why women wanted him, but to be aroused by one, to let one fuck him? He had never really ever considered it so seeing these two older men partake of it willingly and enjoy it all the while fucking poor Camille shocked him, but, to his horror, made his cock throb. He heard Laura say something in his ear, something about a law, but he could only nod and stutter a reply.

"Yes, Ma'am ... wouldn't want to be thought of as homophobic." He managed to get out.

He felt her sharp fingernails slide through his hair, but he didn't expect what came next. The yank on that hair and suddenly she was kissing him, hard. On instinct alone, probably mostly due to how Kitty used him, he opened his mouth and returned the kiss, but his eyes stayed open in shock at what was happening, even as their tongue slid over each other. But suddenly his attention was fixed somewhere else as her hand slipped into his crotch, gripping his hard cock through his jeans, making him moan into the kiss just before she parted their lips and spun the chair to face her.

"Take your dick out." She said, her tone an order and he found his fingers obeying even as his overheated mind decided it needed to get its head down for a while and left his body in the control of his hormones.

His eyes watched her excitedly as she undid the buttons of her tight dress, watching as the fabric parted to show off her bra encased breasts, then finally her panties. His fingers had loosened his belt by now, unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped, slipping his hard dick out of the slit in front of his boxers. It stood up hard and proud. Probably not the biggest Laura had seen, Teddy wondered, but not the smallest either, and Kitty had told him she loved how thick his cock was. His hands gripped the arm rests on the chair as he continued to watch this powerful woman strip down. She was incredible, what a body!!! His eyes were all over her, trying to take it all in, to remember her like this. That this woman wanted him ... or was it just a case of right place, right time? He didn't care, he was here, she was here and she wanted his cock and he was only to happy to let her have it. Just had to remember not to tell Kitty, she might be jealous ... but then again maybe she wouldn't be. It brought up that nagging doubt of what their relationship was again, but it was quickly pushed aside by the very important here and now. He didn't touch his cock, he didn't need to. Between the visual stimulus of watching the ADA strip and the sounds of the orgy in his ear his cock was in no way going to be going down anytime soon.

 

[Gabe619]

Devon and Jennifer
"Bodega back on the opposite corner, southeast," Jennifer told him, giving him a moment to find it himself. "Two men entering ... long coats. It's kind of a warm day for that." She looked to the corner again, adding, "Driver at the wheel of the Chevy sitting out front ... engine running. Doesn't look right."

Her words brought him out of his thoughts and he glanced in the mirror then cocked his head to look back over his shoulder.

"You're the old fart with decades of experience, Grampa. And if you remember, the last time I got into it in a bodega, I shot the man in the hand and you bitched me out for it. So ... how do you want to handle this?"

McCauley grinned at the memory, then looked again before turning to look at Jennifer. Her instincts were good, and he loved that they were. She was a cop, on and off duty she couldn't turn it off. That was how he had been, it was how Marcus was. It wasn't something you could teach, you either had it or you didn't, and Jennifer had it in spades.

"I think ... lets role play dad and daughter." He said after a few seconds of thought. "Hide your badge and we'll take a slow walk back that way on their side of the street. Just two people taking a walk. You be bitching at me for something so the guy at the wheel doesn't think we're a threat. When we get to the car I'll have a little chat to the guy driving then we take up position either side of the door. When our friends come running out to get in the car we take them. They'll be focused on getting away, they won't check their surroundings. How's that sound to you, Gunner?"

 

[PennySaver]

Devon and Jennifer

"I think ... lets role play dad and daughter," Devon suggested regarding a plan to thwart the robbery in progress.

With a flirty, suggestive tone and a hand reaching over to erotically caress his inner thigh, Jennifer purred, "Oh, daddy, I like the way you think."

The pair of them had during their short relationship made their share of lewd jokes about the age difference between them. On occasion, Jennifer had contemplated role playing that difference in one way or another, but each time something had prevented it; usually, they were simply so horny for one another that there wasn't time to be wasted on such delays. She laughed now, smacking Devon's leg as she promised herself, Soon ... soon, enough.

Devon continued explaining his plan, finishing, "How's that sound to you, Gunner?"

"Sounds good to me, daddy," she chuckled as she prepared. She checked her Beretta to ensure there was a round up the pipe, which was absolutely unnecessary as there was always a round in the chamber to go with the full clip. Next, Jennifer pulled her little .380 from her ankle holster and slipped it into her jacket pocket. And finally, she pulled a second 9mm from her bag sitting in the SUV's second seat and leaning forward, stuck it in the small of her back. She looked to Devon and, registering his expression, defended herself, "I'd rather have them and not need them than to need them and not have them. Let's go."

They hopped out and crossed the street, putting them on a path for the getaway car. She slipped a hand inside Devon's elbow, telling him, "We should watch Beyond Thunderdome again. Oh, and Sahara."

She saw his reaction again and laughed; each of those movies had a scene where one of the protagonists -- Mad Max in the former, Al Giordino in the latter -- disarmed himself by shedding an ungodly number of firearms and other weapons, and preparing herself for what they were doing had reminded her of those scenes and the movies in which they'd been seen.

And it wasn't just the three firearms Jennifer was carrying that would have made her own disarming scene hilarious. She was carrying a stiletto in her right boot, a foldout knife on her right hip, pepper spray in her left jacket pocket, and the newest Taser -- more powerful at half the physical size -- on her left hip.

As they approached the getaway car, chatting softly about the details of the imminent confrontation ahead, Jennifer suddenly raised her voice, whining, "But Daddy, I love him! I do! And he loves me, too! He does! I don't understand why you can't see that. Okay, okay, so, maybe bringing him home to meet you and Momma and getting caught fucking on the couch wasn't the smartest thing in the world ... and I'm sorry about what happened to the sports blanket you take to the football games, but it'll wash out, won't it...? And you totally misunderstood about that other girl, too. She wasn't at the house because Bobby was cheating on me with her. I was cheating on Bobby with her ... I mean ... until the three of us started doing it with each other ... and then it wasn't cheating anymore. Oh, and don't worry, I think that'll come out of your leather coat, too ... won't it?"

Jennifer was so absolutely ready to explode in laughter at the horrifically inappropriate tale she was telling her father, but she managed to keep in character, begging, "Please, Daddy! Don't be mad. It wasn't Bobby's fault that he slipped into bed with Momma. He thought it was me!"

 

[Gabe619]

Devon and Jennifer

As they walked, arm in arm, toward the bodega, Devons lips curled into a smile and he tried not to laugh at the act Jennifer was putting on. What was most tricky was not getting hard. What she was saying to him was so nasty, but so hot too. He had been a pretty vanilla guy sexually, Steph had loved it hard and rough but that was pretty much where they had left it and he had loved their frequent sex. But Jennifer was so open about her sexuality, so eager it seemed to try new things. He glanced at her and smirked wondering if this was all bullshit from the top of her head or if she was really into this kind of thing. As his cock got harder he found himself hoping she was. They got the to idealing car and McCauley leant on the opened drivers window and smiled at the man who looked at him in annoyance.

"Get out of here 'dad', or you could get hurt." The young man snarled as he glanced at Jennifer, his eyes looking her over, his pissed off smirk changing into a lecherous one. "Though your daughter can stay, she sounds fun."

The gun in Devon's hand seemed to appear from nowhere. One second the driver was checking out Jennifer's tits, the next he was staring down the business end of a Beretta pistol. McCauley smiled and tapped the end of the barrel on the mans forehead.

"That's not a nice way to look, or talk, about my daughter, so here's what your gonna do. You will stay here, you will keep the car running just like your friends inside want, but you will lock all the doors. You will not say a word to them when they come out, you will not warn them or any danger. Because if you do ....?"

The man gulped and looked at the black hole of the barrel as if hypnotised. "You'll shoot me?"

"Your not as dumb as you look." Devon stated, then with a gesture to Jen moved back and took up position on the left of the open doorway.

Inside he could hear shouting, threats, a quite scream, but no gunshots. Then as Jen took up her place on the other side of the doorway two men ran out in their long coats, both holding shotguns in their hands along with bags of what looked like food, drinks and cash. They totally missed the Two Untouchables and ran to the car trying to open the doors and get in, but found them locked.

"Dean!! Open the fucking doors you moron!!" One shouted before McCauley came up behind him, slipped one arm around his body to grab the shotgun being waved around in a vice like grip and pushed the barrel of his Beretta into the thugs temple.

"Let it go, son, or I'll turn your head into a canoe." Devon whispered. It might not of gone down as the catchiest of one liners but it did the trick.

The thug let his grip on the shotgun go as he slowly held his hands up.

 

[PennySaver]

ADA Laura Shovelli and "Untouchable" Teddy Yarrow

Laura's clothes fell to the floor with haste until she was standing before the young cop in only her thigh-high stockings and her modest, professional heels. There wasn't a hair on her with the exception of the long, gentle curves cascading down upon her shoulders. At the meeting of her thighs, her already swollen clit peeked ever so shyly out from between her darker outer labia as if seeking attention.

She was proud of her body. Mother Nature -- and her parents' good genes -- had given Laura a handy start in life, and Laura had shown respect for that beginning by taking care of herself through good diet and regular exercise. Some people thought her too thin, most notably women who were envious, but Laura enjoyed the fact that when she got naked like this, men like Teddy -- or, before him, women like Belinda Carmichael -- wanted nothing more than to put their hands all over her.

By the time she was undressed as far as she'd planned to be, Teddy had his pants pushed off his hips enough to let his stiffened cock flick out of his boxers like a horny Jack-in-the-box. Laura smiled, happy to see that there was nothing childish about Jumpstreet's cock; he was all man.

Laura crawled up into Teddy's lap without haste, slipping her knees down through the arm rests to get her groin as far forward as she could while simultaneously grasping the young cop's shaft, squeezing it tightly again as she directed it to her hole. She wasted no time putting his swollen head between her wet lips and lowering her weight.

Without foreplay, Laura's pussy was tight; her muscles resisted intrusion initially. When they parted to let Teddy in, she moaned at the pain, and again as she took in more of him. Each time she took a bit more of his thick shaft, Laura groaned until finally she pushed her hips forward to get his last inch.

"My god..." she whispered as she leaned closer, kissing him passionately as down below she manipulated him deep inside her, "...you ... feel ... incredible."

 

[PennySaver]

Devon and Jennifer

Jennifer couldn't help but smile as Devon quick drew his Beretta and pressed it to the driver's face. The man's eyes widened in a combination of surprise and fear.

The excitement within the store came a bit sooner than Jennifer had expected. She backed up quickly, pressing up against the wall. Devon did the same on his side of the door, and as the men came surging out, he moved up quickly to deal with his.

Jennifer had done the same, only pointing her own Beretta at her thug, as opposed to physically taking the shotgun dangling at his side. The man froze initially ... but then his lips spread in a widening smile. He dropped the shotgun on the ground, squared off with Jennifer, and slowly began talking off the long coat.

"You can't shoot me, Copper," he said with a heavy Russian accent; later, Mephisto's research would find that the two men were lower-level Soldiers with the Greshenko Bratva.

Slowly -- not wanting to unnecessarily test whether he was right or wrong about getting shot -- the thug reached to his side, withdrew a stiletto from a leather holder, and clicked the long blade outward. He said something in Russian, took an aggressive stance, and began his shuffling his feet as he prepared for hand-to-hand combat.

Jennifer glanced to Devon ... then smiled. As she holstered her 9mm, she told her partner and lover, "If it looks like this guy's gonna kill me ... shoot him in the nuts, okay?"

With that, Jennifer pulled out the last of her weapons, an expandable baton, and gave it a slash, causing it to extend to its full length. She taunted the thug, "Bring it, you Putin-loving pussy."

Jennifer didn't actually know whether this Russian Ex-Pat was a friend or enemy of Russian's President; some of the Russian mobsters had left their homeland before getting arrested for their domestic crimes, while others -- former KGB, FSB, GU, etc. -- had been very friendly with the government and often still had connections to it even here, 5,000 miles from home.

One way or another, Jennifer knew that it would piss the man off, and that's what she wanted: the man on tilt.

 

[Gabe619]

Devon and Jennifer
McCauley had his criminal disarmed and cuffed as Jennifer faced off with hers. He had been in two minds when the thug had dropped his gun and pulled his knife. That, at least, showed that Kennedy wasn't facing a very intelligent opponent. Dropping his gun so Jennifer didn't shoot him was fine, logical, but then pulling a knife?! She could now shoot him again in self defence!! But as it turned out she seemed quite happy and eager to take this clown out the old fashioned way. He kept one hand on his prisoners shoulder as they watched the two square off.

"If it looks like this guy's gonna kill me ... shoot him in the nuts, okay?" Jennifer stated.

"You got it, honey." Devon called out getting a weird look from the guy he had in cuffs. "That's my girlfriend." McCauley clarified.

The Russian in cuffs took a long look over Jennifer's body as she moved like a cat, watching her enemy, then looked at McCauley.

"Nice going going old man. Bet she fucks like a slut in bed."

That earned him a slap over the head from Devon who waggled his fingers at the driver who hadn't moved a muscle.

"Turn off the engine and give me the keys." McCauley told the man who did as ordered then all three men watched the show.

The man with the knife had reach and strength, but it was obvious Jennifer had speed and agility. The two of them were testing each other right now, faints to see if they could draw out their opponent, seeing if they had weak spots. Suddenly without warning the man charged, swiping his knife from left to right at mid-chest height. Jennifer jumped back, arching her body as the sharp tip slid past her tits. Then as the man overstretched she ducked under his arm and slammed her baton into his rib cage before gracefully moving on and spinning to face him again with a grin as he cried in sudden pain and clutched his side.

"Ohhh, that's got to hurt." McCauley said to the two men next to him. "Couple of ribs gone there I think."

"Bitch!" The Russian knifeman spat. Kennedy just shrugged and winked.

It was obvious to Devon that the idiot was letting his emotions get the better of him. He doubted if the man had kept his wits that Jen would be doing so well. He had found that most people who carried such a knife were usually proficient in its use. But from her calling him a Putin-loving pussy, and now getting in the first good strike, the man had lost objectivity. But he was smart enough to not lash out again. Instead Jennifer made the next move, fainting to the her left, making him thrust with the knife at where she should of been, before spinning like a ballerina and bringing the baton down hard in a vicious sweep between his legs. All three men watching winced and felt their own balls tighten in sympathy as the man hobbled forward a step or two before falling to his knees, knife dropping from his hand as he used both to cradle his broken family jewels. A high pitched keening noise came from him as he toppled to the ground in the foetal position.

"Nicely done, darling." Devon gave her applause as he grinned, proud of her.