"Going Straight" (closed)

[PennySaver]

Meanwhile, in Capital City General Hospital:

(OOC: Jennifer's normal picture)

Jennifer was standing before the mirror over the sink in her private room's bathroom, checking out the damage that had been done to her chest. The shotgun slug had hit her in her vest smack dab in the middle of her sternum, fracturing it and other things. This damage alone would have caused massive bruising all across her chest, from nipple to nipple and clavicle to xiphoid process.

As if that hadn't been bad enough, the doctors who'd used non-invasive surgery to refasten the sternocostal joints that had been separated and/or fractured had only aggravated the blood flow and, thus, intensified the bruising. As she stood there with her robe opened and hanging around her back from her bent elbows as she inspected her check, she murmured to herself, "I look like someone shot me with the world's largest plum."

She picked up movement and sound to her right and leaned her head to peek out into the room. Devon was beginning to stir on the couch that -- along with a nearby chair -- she'd been told he'd spent the majority of the past two days. She teased, "Wake up, old man. It's almost two in the afternoon."

Jennifer looked back at herself in the mirror, then -- with her robe still lowered -- stepped out into the bathroom doorway. She wore a pair of hospital-issue granny panties that hung loosely from around her waist, but her bosom was still just as exposed.

"Did you see what those fuckers did to me?" she asked Devon with dismay. "Did you see what those fuckers did to me?"

She turned back into the bathroom, her bosom no longer within the man's view. After a moment, she exclaimed, "Jesus! I mean, c'm'on! I got hit by softballs in high school and college and bruised, but this is fucking ridiculous."

When she emerged again, Jennifer was covered from neck to knees by the thick, cotton robe, although a bit of plunging neckline still revealed some of her black, blue, and purple cleavage. She looked over to Devon and reported, "You were asleep when I woke up, so I told the nurse not to wake you."

She grimaced and groaned as she padded barefoot across the floor, leaned into the sitting Devon, took his face into her hands, and kissed him right on the mouth. It was a closed lips affair, yet still had an intimate feel to it. After several seconds, she pulled her mouth back, stared into his eyes with a smile on her lips, and asked, "What they fuck are you doing here, Old Man? You should be out catching bad guys."

"Hey!" a female voice called from behind Jennifer. It was the nurse who'd greeted her a few minutes earlier, returning with a little platter of drugs, bottled water, and food. "You get back in bed, young lady. I already told you that the Doc wants you flat on your back for another two days."

"Yeah, sure, okay," Jennifer said, before looking back to Devon, smirking, and whispering, "The doctor wants me flat on my back for two days. I think he likes me--"

"Get over here," the nurse was continuing, taking Jennifer by the arm and turning her back to the bed. The woman helped the grimacing and groaning patient back onto the mattress and under the covers before reattaching all of the wires and tubes that she'd detached earlier for Jennifer to pee. When she was done, she turned to Devon, gave him a hard look, pointed an accusing finger at him, and said harshly, "You let her be. No kissing, no hugging, no any of that stuff the two of you do back home."

When she turned and headed off to the monitoring equipment on the other side of the room, Jennifer shrugged and whispered, "Someone told her you were my husband apparently ... so that you could hang out for two days!"

Jennifer didn't know whether Devon himself had told the staff that or maybe Marcus, but it had allowed Devon to spend his time watching over the unconscious Rookie. She smiled again, then asked, "So, what happened after I got shot and my tits started looking like those of a California Raisin stripper?"

 

[Gabe619]

"No, Ma'am." Marcus smiled.

He sat there listening to all that the Governor was offering and wondered what exactly Laura had told her to get her so behind this idea? He also wondered what she would say if he told her that Emelia D'Angelo had started all of this off? It might shake her trust a little he figured, so no need for her to know. After all, in the end, everyone got what they wanted. Emelia got to take the D'Angelo family straight and clean. Marcus might get a promotion, as would the rest of his team, or at the very least any assignment they wanted. Laura would probably make DA and forge further on with any political career she wanted, as would Governor Harker by cleaning up Capitol City.

"Having a dedicated SWAT team will be priceless, Governor, as long as all the member are vetted thoroughly." He didn't have to spell out how riddled with corruption the police force was, both Laura and the Governor already knew. But he felt he had to say it out loud. It would only take one weak link, one person lent on hard enough to break them and the whole team would come crashing down and they would be lucky to live through it. "I trust your take on this guy you mention and I am sure he knows his people well. Marines tend to be good at that sort of thing." He allowed a small cheeky smile at that as a former Marine himself.

He pointed to the paper work on the desk. "Making us official has already got some pushback from my previous colleagues, I think they feel ... stepped on, or stepped over. I have no concern for myself that they might cause as trouble, I can deal with that, but my working directly for you might cause you some waves politically, both locally and State-wide. One of your many opponents might use this as a platform, you know the kind of thing they will say. Governor Harker has made her own little police force unaccountable to the normal chain of command, stuff like that. Not to mention of course your family connection to each other." He waved at Harker and Laura. "They won't care if everything is above board and legal, its the optics they care about and if they can taint your role in this they probably will."

He sipped at his coffee as he considered his other thoughts.

"As for Mephisto, well, knowing him I am sure he is already five steps ahead of us when it comes to expenses, money transfers and the sort. It is annoying just how thorough he can be at times, but he is very good at what he does. I look forward to meeting your SWAT guy whenever he is available, but I would like to keep those who know the location of our HQ as small as possible. There is really no reason for his people to come there, though it might be easier to plan operations with the man himself in the room."

 

[Gabe619]

Devon had been dreaming, but he couldn't recall of what now as he groggily tried to wake up. His neck ached from where his head had been propped up on a cushion against the couch side and he rubbed it with his hand. He remember the dream had made him feel warm and happy, and it had sunshine in it he was pretty sure, and yellow ... or had it been hair, blond hair. He blinked and shook his head as he heard Jennifer grumbling. He looked at the bathroom doorway with her standing in it, showing off her breasts to him.

"I must still be dreaming." He said softly to himself rubbing a hand over his eyes and when he looked again she was back in the bathroom complaining. But that didn't take away the image of her standing there half naked and despite the bruising Devon had to admit she had great tits. "What the fuck, McCauley, the girl just about got her chest caved in and your admiring her tits?!" Again all said softly to himself before he felt her lips on his and his hands came half way up and stopped, unsure what to do, hold her, not hold her, push her away? Then the lips were gone leave the tingling memory of them on his. He licked his lips and sat up, now more awake, the kiss had certainly livened up certain parts of his anatomy and he shuffled awkwardly on the couch as the nurse took charge of Jennifer.

"Hey," He said to the nurse. "She kissed me, not the other way around, but fine, hands off." He winked at Jennifer.

As the nurse went about her duties in the room, McCauley moved to the chair next to the bed to make it easier for the two partners to chat without her overhearing.

"I saw your doctor, young guy, has probably had most of the nurses in this place. You watch yourself, Kennedy. I don't want you on you back again because you got playful with the Doc." He winked at her and took her hand in his and squeezed it softly. "And, maybe I told them I was your husband. It was two days ago, you know how us old men tend to forget things. I can tell you though I got some weird looks from the nurses ... and some jealous ones from the male orderlies. I think a few of the older ladies around here think there are to many years between us for me to be bedding such a young sex kitten as you."

The nurse finished taking her notes and walked back past the bed giving Devon a scornful look, to which he simply gave her his best smile as she walked out of the room.

"What do you think of the room? Nothing beats going private. Marcus is charging it to D'Angelo's account, seems fair to me, you put yourself in harms way for her quest to go straight, least she can do is pick up the medical bills." He leaned in a little closer. "As to what happened after you hit the floor, well, we finished clearing the house, got a good number of live ones, a good number of dead ones too, but they were all clean shots so no IA investigations, thank fuck for that at least. Shovelli did a press conference but didn't name names, not yet at least, but Marcus is off getting us made official and once that's done we can really kick ass and take names."

He stayed far away from what had happened immediately after Jen had been shot, how he had shot down the man responsible and tore his chest apart with almost a full magazine of bullets. Not his proudest moment and he was still trying to get it all straight in his head why he had reacted that way.

"I'm sorry I made you take off all that body armor now. I guess you really did need it after all." He licked his lips, his eyes unable to meet hers. "I'm sorry I didn't have your back in there. I should've come into that room with you, helped you clear it first. I put to much faith in Mephisto's body count and not enough in my own experience. I guess I'm a little rusty." Now his eyes came back up to hers, his expression serious. "That won't happen again. If I can't protect my partner what the hell good am I on this team."

"As for your breasts, don't worry, you're young, in a couple of days you won't even know you got hit ... well, looking from the outside anyway. Besides, I like California raisins."

 

[Gabe619]

Teddy Yarrow was at the Hanson building exploring. Nothing was on the cards to be done today, Marcus, Jen and McCauley were all out, Mephisto was still upstairs but then he NEVER seemed to leave. And Kitty ... he had no idea where she was. If you looked up 'Free Spirit' in an encyclopaedia it would show a picture of Kitty, Teddy was sure. She seemed a force of nature to him, taking everything in her stride, including him. After she had left the other night and flashed him he had been shocked and not sure how to react. So many emotions roared through him. Arousal obviously was number one, shock she had risked flashing him with the others there even if they hadn't been looking, shyness that if he had run after her they would all realise what they would be doing, then regret if he didn't go after her. Trying to decide how long he should wait before making his own excuses and following her had been a lesson in high mathematics to him.

Finally though he had said goodnight to Mephisto and Cole and ran down to the basement garage. He almost fell down the stairs twice due to his haste in not wanting to keep her waiting, or risking she would leave before he got there. But when he finally stepped into the open garage he saw her car still there and as he tried to nonchalantly walk over to it, which for anyone watching would have been real funny to see, he ran a hand through his hair. God, she had amazing tits, he thought, again seeing her upstairs flashing one to him. His cock was already trying to force its way out of his jeans as he got to the rear door and opened it, seeing her sitting there with a knowing smile on her face. She had known he would follow he realised, he was that easy for her to control, but he didn't care because moments later their lips were locked and he was pushing up her shirt as she expertly divested him of his pants.

He had thought their first time at the stake out had been good, and it so, ssooooo had been, but this time was equally as memorable. Everything about those two sexcapades was carved into his memory. Every action, every touch, ever smell, every taste, every look and angle was locked away for him to recall at anytime. This second time seemed slower though, maybe he had managed to calm down a little this time, or maybe it was because they were in a car parked in a private garage and no one could see them. Whatever it was it had felt more ... he couldn't find the right words really ... connecting? Was that it? Had they forged a connection or was she again just using him to let off steam. And if she was did he care? He realised that he didn't, if she was using just him, but what if she had many guys out there for stress relief? He knew she had a few at the Academy, but now they worked together, and she had initiated sex between them. He groaned, that sounded so cold ... initiated, good God he had to up his game if he wanted to keep her he thought. But thinking back to the question, yes, he would be jealous if she was having sex with others, but he had no control of her, they weren't dating, nothing had been said about the sex. It had happened, it had been great, then it was as if nothing had happened. She went back to normal at the flick of a switch. While he was still dragging his clothes back together and trying to regulate his breathing she was acting totally normal.

Ah, well, he considered, this was all new to them both perhaps. Maybe he was way over thinking it. Yeah, yeah he was. Just let things happen and see where it went, that was all he could do. Then he felt his body start to ache again, to see her, to touch her. He stopped, groaned and banged his head softly on the concrete wall.

 

[PennySaver]

ADA Laura Shovelli and Governor Elizabeth Harker with Detective Marcus Cole

"Having a dedicated SWAT team will be priceless, Governor," Marcus said, confirming his interest in having additional firepower when necessary. He continued, "as long as all the members are vetted thoroughly."

"I assure you, Detective Cole, this man you can trust," Elizabeth reassured him. "And if he picks a man -- or woman -- for his team, you can be assured you can trust that person as well."

Marcus talked about how he was already taking flak from the other members of the OCB for not having them in the loop. He spoke of the waves she herself might have to survive. Elizabeth laughed, telling him, "Nothing new for me, Detective. I have almost always been on the outside looking in. This will be nothing new to me."

When Marcus talked about the Office's security and secrecy, Elizabeth agreed, with a stipulation: "You must limit the number of people who know the location of your Untouchables' bat cave, I most certainly agree. But I can tell you that my man is most definitely going to be one of those few people."

Elizabeth reached into her desk drawer and pulled out one of her limited access business cards; it had a phone number and a very random appearing email address on it but no names, addresses, or other information that would make someone say to themselves, Oh, this is the Governor's info. She stood, circled her desk, and sat on the edge of it near Marcus. She handed him the card, telling him, "Call me tomorrow, sometime after noon, and I will have arranged a meeting for the two of you. Trust me, Detective, you'll like this guy."

She stood again and offered out her hand, the meeting obviously over between them ... unless he had more questions.

 

[PennySaver]

Jennifer Kennedy with Devon McCauley at the hospital:

"Hey, she kissed me," Devon defended himself when the nurse playfully chastised him for disturbing Jennifer's healing process, finishing, "not the other way around, but fine, hands off."

"He's a dirty old man," Jennifer told the nurse and the woman was helping her back into both her bed and her array of monitoring wires. "I think maybe you should call Security, just in case."

"You're a troublemaker," the nurse told the young cop. "I knew it the moment you woke up and used my marker to draw stuff on your friend's face while he was sleeping."

Jennifer laughed sharp and short, grimacing from the pain before quickly telling Devon, "She's lying! I didn't do that! Check the mirror!"

Devon joked about the good-looking doctor and the possibility of inappropriate things taking place between the man and Jennifer. Then he joked about the speculation that maybe Jennifer and Devon were involved instead, married even. He called her a young sex kitten.

Jennifer laughed, then grimaced and moaned again, telling Devon, "Stop that! It hurts."

Honestly, though, Jennifer didn't mind Devon flirting with her at all. She'd been developing feeling for the old veteran cop almost from the day they'd met, and hearing that he'd sat here by her side for the better part of two days ... well, truthfully, it made her hot!

"What do you think of the room?" Devon asked. "Nothing beats going private."

"Well, I know that the City isn't paying for this," Jennifer said.

"Marcus is charging it to D'Angelo's account," Devon informed her, continuing, "seems fair to me, you put yourself in harm's way for her quest to go straight. Least she can do is pick up the medical bills."

Jennifer wanted to ask whether or not Emelia D'Angelo knew the details of the raid, specifically that she herself had nearly gotten killed for her crazy idea of eliminating Organized Crime in Capital City. Jennifer's father had died because of the D'Angelo's, and now she nearly had herself. She wanted to know that Emelia had at least shown a bit of concern over Jennifer taking a shotgun round to the chest.

What Jennifer didn't know was that while Marcus was secretly paying for the private room and every penny of medical care out of the big wad of cash Emelia had provided him, Emelia had been getting status updates from the floor's nurses and doctors every three hours, day and night. Emelia didn't fully understand it all, of course, so the information went to the Doctor caring for her father, and the Doctor explained it to Emelia in layman terms.

"As to what happened after you hit the floor," Devon continued, telling her the details. "Shovelli did a press conference but didn't name names, not yet at least, but Marcus is off getting us made official and once that's done, we can really kick ass and take names."

It was probably a good thing that Devon didn't describe what he'd done to the man who'd shot Jennifer down. It would have concerned her, possibly making her wonder whether getting close to him was a good or bad idea. Then he apologized for making her shed the excessive body armor, saying, "I'm sorry I didn't have your back in there."

"No, no!" she cut in as he was talking about how they'd entered the house. "You can't know that. You could have come with me and maybe seen that guy before I did ... but you had people on your side of the house, too. There is no second guessing in this. We live, we learn, we go forward. You can't have known what might happen, and I won't have you shitting on yourself or on McHacker. His information got us to where we were. We got those people because of him. And I'm still alive because of you. So, deal with it."

Then, he changed the subject from breaches to boobies. She laughed at him, yet again grimacing, moaning, and chastising him. She was beginning to feel exhausted and needed sleep. She reached out to clutch his nearest hand, begging, "Don't go anywhere. My California raisins might need massaging later."

She giggled as she closed her eyes ... and within just seconds, Jennifer was once again out like a light.

 

[Gabe619]

Devon watched her drift off to sleep again and smiled. Again he reached out to stroke her long blond hair. Even in her current state she looked beautiful to him and he wondered if he was seeing more of her spirit than her physical self. His wife had once told him he seemed to have the ability to see into peoples souls, to see the real them. He wasn't sure that was true, but he had many times as a police office arrested, or been about to arrest someone only to look into their eyes and see the fear, the doubt, the self loathing of a few of those people. He had gone light with the punishment, sometime just giving a verbal warning, sometimes a fine, sometimes speaking up for them at trial. In every case he had found no reason to doubt what he had done. They had all gone straight from that point on.

As he sat watching her sleep he realised Jennifer was a wonderful person, inside and out, she almost seemed to glow. She had an effect on those around her too. He had seen it with Kitty and Teddy, how both relaxed visibly when she was there with them. Even Cole seemed to smile a little more. He chuckled as he considered the three young people, Jen, Teddy and Kitty, the Three Musketeers. Teddy would be Aramis, the priest who prayed for the souls of the men he expertly killed. Soft spoken, caring, but deadly. Kitty was Porthos, alive, strong, unbeatable both physically and mentally, always living life to its fullest. And that left Athos for Jennifer. Thoughtful, wise, sad at times with the weight of her past, but strong and a natural leader. He stood and quietly left the room giving her a backward glance at the door before exiting. The nurse at the desk looked up and smiled at him.

"You look shattered, that couch is going to kill your back if you keep sleeping on it." She said with a small smile.

"I'm ok, just needed a power nap was all." He replied heading to the coffee machine and fumbling for money in his pocket as he punched in the number for the beverage he wanted and waited as it gurgled into the paper cup. "Would you like anything?" He asked the nurse who shook her head.

"No, but thank you." Her eyes went back to the room Kennedy lay in. "You know, that young lady will need watching when she leaves here, its going to take some time before she is fully healed."

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her." McCauley stated blowing on the hot coffee.

"Oh, I am sure you will." The nurse laughed lightly and winked making Devon blush a little before he re-entered the room to take up his watchful position next to Jennifer's bed.

 

[PennySaver]

Kylie Parker, dirty cop:

(Profile)

(IMPORTANT NOTE: This was originally Post #94 but has been moved here to fit the timeline better. If you read it already and recall its contents, you don't have to read it again; it's been reposted here almost ver batim.)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX​

The Next Day:

I need a fix ... I need a fix ... I need a fix...

Kylie had been trying to be a good girl lately. Ever since being recruited by Emelia D'Angelo (OOC: which happened here), she'd been trying to stay away from poker and cocaine both. It wasn't as easy as one would think, not just because she was addicted to both, but because she was in the CCPD's Narcotics Bureau, which always had access to drugs, and because she lived on the 5th floor of a walkup in which there was a D'Angelo gambling club in the basement.

She was hating herself for having allowed herself to be recruited by Emelia. She'd been weak, weaker than she'd ever been. She'd amounted gambling debts she could never repay and had been given the opportunity to fix that situation by executing a man in cold blood. And she'd done it ... or, at least, she'd tried.

The gun Kylie had been provided had been loaded, but the firing pin had been ground down. When she'd aimed the gun at her target -- who, she would later learn, was Emelia's bodyguard, Philip Russo -- the revolver only clicked repeatedly. Then, of course, Emelia D'Angelo stepped out of the car for which Kylie's assigned target had been heading, looked to the dirty cop, and calmly said, "Detective Parker, we should talk."

After that, Kylie belonged to Emelia. Not to the gambling hall, not to its in-house money lender, not to the D'Angelo Family in general, but to Emmy D herself.

Tonight, Kylie was performing her first duty for Emelia. She was having a hard time dealing with it sober, so she made a stop at a street corner and got herself a pick-me-up. She tapped some of the powder out onto the back of her hand and snorted it hard and fast, then repeated with the other nostril. She felt the relief within seconds.

Fifty minutes later, she repeated her dosage as she pulled up to her assigned location. It wasn't exactly the nicest neighborhood. At the same time, it was protected by the D'Angelo Family, so if you were a thief or mugger or car jacker here, you would find yourself dealing with the same family to whom Kylie herself was indebted.

She went to a bus bench on the corner and sat. Normally, it would have been well illuminated by a pair of streetlamps overhead, but both of them had been knocked out by persons unknown. It sat right near the exit of a dark alley, and soon enough a male voice said sternly, "Don't turn around."

Kylie flinched and began to turn, simultaneously reaching for her gun. But she ceased her movement as directed and instead only turned to face the street again. A moment later, the man asked, "What news do you have for me?"

"The D'Angelo Family is bringing in a huge shipment of heroin," she began, her body trembling from a combination of the cold and anxiety. "They're saying ... they guys in Narcotics who are protecting the shipment ... they're saying it's the largest single delivery of dope the D'Angelo's have ever imported ... over 150 keys."

"When and where?" the man in the shadows asked. "And what kind of protection?"

"That's hard to say ... not the when and where part, but the protection part," Kylie said. "Thursday, 3am, Pier 4. That's Thursday morning, not Friday morning after Thursday night. I ... I just wanted to be clear on that."

Kylie waited a moment to see if the man would comment and got nothing. She continued, "It's coming in on a fishing trawler called the Lucky Catch. As far as protection goes, I don't know how many guys will be on the boat or what they're gonna be carrying ... but I do know that there will be at least 8 cops there ... mostly from Narcotics."

She hesitated a moment, turning her head slightly with a desire to see the man to whom she was speaking. She looked forward again, though, adding, "There's supposed to be a Bureau Chief there, too. I don't know which one, but I'm told that he's the one who reports directly to D'Angelo's Capo in charge of drug sales. He's a big fish."

Kylie hesitated a few more seconds, then asked, "Is there anything more you need to know?" When no response came, she said, "I did as Emmy D asked." Another moment of hesitation. "Is that it then...? Am I free?"

She didn't know who the man in shadows was, of course; she didn't know it was one of the Untouchables. Kylie has suspected it was a D'Angelo man. But, why would one of Emmy D's men need this kind of info? It was, after all, their shipment. Shouldn't they already know all this?

After there was again no response from the guy in the alley, Kylie slowly turned her head. She was almost expecting to find a gun barrel pointed at her face. Instead, she only saw an empty dark alley entrance. She stood, contemplated investigating the alley, then instead headed across the street to her car and got the hell out of Dodge.

 

[Gabe619]

Cole had called Governor Harker as she had asked and been told to go to Main Street Park at 2pm and sit on a bench by the duck pond. It all felt a little cloak and dagger to Marcus, but then he supposed it had to be to keep everyone safe. He been sitting there almost ten minutes when he saw an older man heading in his direction. He watched him for a moment and smiled. It might have been the walk, or the way he held himself, or something else entirely, but Cole knew this man had been a Marine He stood as the man walked up and smiled, holding out a hand.

Daniel Ketch was 52, a widower with two sons both in the military. He stood about 6'1 with greying black hair and beard and piercing grey eyes. As Marcus and he shook hands they almost instinctively tightened their grips, both smiling as they sized each other up. Eventually, the testosterone diminished for now, they let go and sat down on the bench. Ketch was in civilian gear for this meeting, blue jeans and a tight white polo shirt under a black jacket.

"So you're Detective Marcus Cole, huh? The Governor tells me you need me to put together a kick-ass SWAT team to bail you and your rookies out of any hot water you get into." It was said with a small smile that took some of the sarcasm out of his words, but not all.

"Lets get something straight, my team has already pulled off one successful raid against greater numbers with no fatalities. We don't need you to bail us out of anything." Cole replied sternly getting a nod and hands held up defensively from Ketch.

"I'm sorry, bad choice of words. Lets start over," He held his hand out again. "I'm Captain Daniel Ketch, pleased to meet you, Marcus."

"Apology accepted, Captain. I guess I'm a little over protective of my people." Marcus smiled back and shook.

"As you should be, never apologise for that. I'm the same for my teams. I actually read the after action report from your raid. Other than numbers I would have done exactly the same thing as you. Next time you'll have me and my team to back you up."

"So, what has the Governor told you about my squad." Cole asked relaxing a little.

"Not much, she said she would leave it to you to fill me in on what I needed to know. But she did say the plan is to circumvent current law enforcement in Capitol City and bring down Organised Crime, something the OCB has been unable to do in decades. I like the sound of that, a lot."

Ketch had worked his way up the command chain the old fashioned way, by working hard. He had joined SWAT eleven years ago and became Captain three years ago. He had seen many of his people injured or even killed because some patrol cop, some detective, some lawyer or judge fucked up and put his men and women in danger. SWAT was designed to take on the dangerous tasks, but they could only perform at their best if they had all the information on a scene and could depend on the cops backing them up. Trust, as the say, is earned, and so far after all this time, Ketch still didn't entirely trust the cops he worked with. It was one big reason he had jumped at Governor Harker's offer to work outside the normal rules. Maybe playing outlaw for a while might actually get the job done.

"Did she tell you that you worked for me and not her." Marcus asked curious if the good Governor was as good as her word.

Daniel nodded. "She did, I work for you, you work for her. I don't have an issue with that. As long as you listen to my advice, give me access to all information I need before an operation and you respect my people then we will be golden."

"Good, I wouldn't have it any other way. Will your team have issues taking orders from my people? As you say some are rookies, they might be young but they have good heads on their shoulders. That's why I picked them."

Ketch shrugged. "I'm not going to say it will be easy for them. Someone who has worked in SWAT for years taking commands from a 20 something rookie ... well, how would you like it?"

"I wouldn't, but if I knew that person giving the orders knew more than me and I had been ordered to obey then I would do my job. If the mission gets FUBAR it comes down on them, not me."

"True, but as you know when it hits the fan its the people on the front line who pay the price, Marcus."

"That's why we'll be right there with you and your people. If it goes down wrong we'll take the shit too. That's why I intend to make sure I get every single piece of intel I can squeeze from my sources before we do anything risky. I want all our people to stay alive."

"Well, you know what they say about intel?" Daniel grinned and chuckled, "To little intelligence is unacceptable, the right amount of intelligence is insufficient ..."

"And to much intelligence is a trap." Both men finished the quote together laughing.

"I think we understand each other ok, Cole. So when do I get to see your super secret hideout?" Ketch asked.

"If you got time I can take you right now."

"I got all the time in the world, my friend." Daniel said slapping Marcus on the shoulder as they both stood.

 

[Gabe619]

Cole and Ketch arrived at the Hanson Building and wandered inside, Daniel already impressed by the security arrangements. They made their way upstairs to the actual apartment and walked inside to find Teddy laying on the couch watching tv and Mephisto, as ever, at his computers. Both turned to look at the two men.

"Did I sign on for an old, grizzled cop convention by mistake?" Mephisto asked looking Ketch over.

"That is Mephisto, our super secretive cyber expert ... sorry, sorry, genius." Marcus laughed. "Ignore him, he means well. And this is Teddy Yarrow."

Ketch and Yarrow shook hands, both appraising the other with up and down looks.

"Teddy, this is Daniel Ketch, our SWAT commander."

"Nice to meet you, Sir. Wish we had had you the other night." Yarrow commented.

Daniel was looking around, taking everything in. "Don't worry, kid, from what I heard you all did just fine." Then his eyes came back to Teddy. "And from now on we will be right there with you." He glanced at Marcus. "You have weapons here?"

Cole took him to the hidden armory door, opened it and let him step inside. A low whistle came from Ketch as he took in the room.

"Weapons indeed. You guys are better equipped than us. Might have to borrow some of your toys You even have ..." He stopped and walked over to a rack holding the body armor. "You have the new RTS tactical armor?! Even we haven't been issued with that yet!"

"One of my people knows a friend." Marcus chuckled at Daniels look of shock and awe.

"Nice friend to have."

"Don't worry, the Governor has pretty much given me a blank check, what you don't currently have I think I can get you ... including the RTS armor, but you might need to give me a few days on that." Cole responded.

Ketch shrugged. "We've managed for years with our current kit, we can wait a little longer for the good stuff. But I do have something you might like." He turned back to Cole and lent back on the racks, arms crossed. "I know three of your team are rookies, they went through the Academy firing range, etc, etc, but none of them did tactical training. What I am offering is for your team to visit my kill house and SWAT training center. They did real well the other night, but give me a few days with them and I might be able to give them a keener edge."

Marcus didn't bother to explain Kitty hadn't graduated the Academy, going on her level of expertise the other night she was doing just fine anyway, but the offer did have merit.

"That would be great, and do you already have your team picked out?" Cole asked.

Daniel nodded. "I've picked out a squad of twelve people, two are dedicated snipers, the rest breach and enter. I picked them from all my teams, cherry picking if you will. I know secrecy, trust and loyalty are paramount so I did my background checks. They are all squeaky clean. Two women, ten men. I told them they would be signing up for a specialised operation, they don't need to know the details. But they do know how to kick in doors and clears rooms of bad guys. I figured that was pretty much all you needed from them."

"Pretty much, yes. I'll introduce you to the others when we next meet up. There is a drug bust we need to work on quickly, its going down on Thursday at 3am at the docks."

"Doesn't give us much time." Ketch said with an annoyed expression.

"I know, I know and if I could of given you more lead in time I would of. I just got given the intel a few hours ago."

"Fair enough then. You know where at the docks?"

"Pier 4." Marcus clarified.

Ketch nodded. "Ok then, why don't we get our heads together over some maps and take a look at the lay of the land."

As the two men left the armory the big monitor on the wall flashed up detailed satellite images of the docks, with zoomed in shots of Pier 4 and the surrounding area. Marcus glanced at Mephisto.

"You listening in on my conversation?" He asked the hacker who shrugged.

"Didn't take a genius to know what you both would need. I have ground level shots of the area too if you need them as well as rosters for the dock crews, ETA of the ship carrying the drugs and patrol shifts and patterns for the local PD."

"He's pretty damn useful to have around." Ketch grinned.

"Don't say that, his ego is big enough already." Marcus laughed as both men turned their attention to the monitor.

 

[PennySaver]

Wednesday, noon:

Jennifer awoke with a start, grimacing when her sudden, semi-conscious movement sent shots of pain through her chest. She looked about the room for Devon McCauley but was shocked instead to find none other than Emelia D'Angelo sitting in the old cop's chair. Grimacing again, Jennifer sat up a bit taller, looked around more thoroughly, then finally said in a soft voice, "Not to sound ungrateful for the company ... but what the fuck are you doing here?"

"You're coming home with me, Miss Kennedy," Emelia said with a polite tone. She set aside her disposable cup of coffee, stood, and stepped closer to the injured cop. She chuckled softly at Jennifer's reaction, saying, "Don't worry, you're not being kidnapped. Detective Cole had not only approved this ... he requested it."

Emelia dangled a copy of this morning's The Capital Courier before Jennifer. On the front page was an article with the headline, Draper Family Murderers Charged; 244 counts. Emelia opened the single-fold paper to page 8 and offered it over, saying, "You should check the last two paragraphs."

Jennifer scanned the continuation of the front-page article until she found what the D'Angelo Donna had indicated. She read softly aloud, "Sources from Capital City General Hospital, who asked for anonymity, have said that one of the injured parties from the raid on the D'Amato safe house was 'a civilian not involved with' the Draper Family Murders. Others with knowledge of the raid have claimed that this 'unidentified person' may have been a CCPD officer who was shot or 'otherwise injured' during the raid and whose identified is being withheld 'for security purposes'."

"Needless to say," Emelia continued as she turned to walk to the private room's entrance, "it would be better for all concerned if your identity was not discovered here, so..."

Emelia opened the door and made a gesture to someone beyond it. The man Jennifer had come to know of as Philip Russo entered, pushing a wheelchair; he wasn't in his typical two-piece suit but was wearing more casual clothing, a pair of jeans and windbreaker over a dark colored tee shirt. Emelia continued, "...we're taking you to Elmhurst. Detective Cole approved of this, as I said, and your doctor has approved transfer of your care over to the doctor tending to my father."

"Where's everyone else?" Jennifer asked as Philip and Emelia both helped her out of her bed. "Where's...?"

She didn't continue her question, but as if reading Jennifer's mind, Emelia answered, "Your handsome pet cop is training, I've been told."

"Hey," Jennifer responded with indignation. "Careful."

Emelia laughed. "I'm sorry, I was only playing. I like Mister McCauley." She winked to Jennifer, adding, "And he likes you."

Jennifer couldn't help but blush at the other woman's comment. When he hadn't been working, Devon had been spending more of his free time here with Jennifer. They were getting to know each other better each day. Jennifer had never been the falling in love type, but over the past few days she'd really begun to feel something special and intimate with her pet cop.

Loaded up in the wheelchair with her identity somewhat obscured by a large hat and dark glasses, Jennifer was wheeled to the Staff Only elevator, taken down to an also Staff Only passageway on the B1 level of the hospital, and loaded into a sedan with dark windows. There were two TV crew vans outside the hospital, their reporters and videographers eager to learn more about the Draper-related patients inside, particularly the yet-to-be-identified and possibly law enforcement member on the 9th floor.

An hour later, Jennifer was standing in what was to be her bedroom until she was ready to return to the Office. Emelia showed her to the amenities, then informed her, "Your team has full access to you here. I have made arrangements with Marcus for secure, anonymous transport of one and all here to Elmhurst at any time, 24/7."

"Do you know what's happening with the team?" Jennifer asked. Then, being clearer, she asked, "The raid, I mean?"

"I do not," Emelia said. Then, also wanting to be clearer, she explained, "We don't talk about your people here at Elmhurst ... for security reasons."

She could have explained more but didn't, for two reasons: first, Jennifer had been kept aware of what the Untouchables were doing tonight after dark, so Emelia didn't think she had any more to offer; and second, although this room was swept for listening devices daily, you could never be absolutely certain that someone or something was trying to snoop on your conversations. It was better simply not to discuss certain things.

"Get some rest, eat some food," Emelia told her guest. "The doctor will be in shortly to check in with you. He's the best, probably better than the one you had at--"

"Can I see your father again," Jennifer cut in. She saw the surprised look on Emelia's face. She asked, "I mean ... if he's doing okay. He is doing okay ... isn't he?"

Emelia hesitated a moment before saying, "He had a turn for the worse recently ... but ... he is still capable of moment of clarity. I'll check with the doctor ... but I don't see why you couldn't sit with him for a few minutes sometime soon."

"Thank you," Jennifer said.

Emelia turned to leave, then hesitated at the door before turning and, with a sincere tone, said, "And thank you, Officer Kennedy."

"My name is Jennifer," the young cop said with a polite smile. "Please ... call me Jennifer."

 

[PennySaver]

Wednesday, 4pm:

Kitty had set an alarm for 6pm yet awoke on her own. She stared at the ceiling above her bunk for a long moment before rolling to her side to look down to Teddy, sleeping in his own bunk on the other side of the room. In her opinion, he'd grown up a lot since joining the Untouchables.

Oh sure, it wasn't like he'd been a kid or anything. But even Kitty had seen the change in him recently. He'd lost his virginity, to Kitty, of course. He'd been involved in a gun battle with automatic weapon carrying thugs from a major crime family. He'd undergone 5 days of intense SWAT team training alongside the rest of the Untouchables.

Kitty smiled with delight. She was very impressed with Jumpstreet's rise in maturity, and it wasn't just because he knew how to use his cock to drive her to wondrous heights of euphoria, although that didn't hurt. It had been over a week since they'd fucked in the backseat of her car in the garage, and yet Kitty could still recall all three orgasms as if she was having them again now.

She slipped a hand under the covers and down to her parting thighs, were she found her panties wet with need. She wanted to take Teddy down to the garage right now to refresh those memories. But they had work to do. For the better part of a week, the Untouchables -- less Jennifer, of course -- had been training at night with Daniel Ketch's TacTeam at a location that was a mock setup for Dock #4. Tonight, of course, they'd make a visit to the real place and take down one of the largest caches of drugs ever to be brought into the City.

With catlike movements, Kitty dropped out of her top bunk to the floor, landing barefoot with nary a sound. She wore only a cropped tee and a pair of panties and was looking pretty hot and sexy. She looked at each of the men in the room -- Marcus, Teddy, and Devon, one and all had spent the night here -- and then padded her way to the door to look out at the electronics area, finding Mephisto hard at work, of course.

He turned and caught sight of Kitty standing there half naked, unashamed of being seen, before she turned and headed back deeper into bedroom for the attached bathroom. She showered, dressed, and headed out of the Office. Thirty minutes later, Kitty returned with half a dozen big bags filled with everything from pastries to pork sausages, carton milk to coffee. By this time, the others were either up or soon would be.

It was going to be a big day for the Untouchables.

 

[Gabe619]

Thursday, 02.55am, Pier 4, Capitol City docks:
Cole and Ketch crouched behind some piled up lumber on the side of the docks watching the activity at pier 4 through night vision binoculars. Men and women stood around the lit up area waiting, some smoking, some chatting, some staring off over the water waiting the arrival of the ship. As far as The Untouchables and Ketch's Swat team, they were split into two groups. As the pier was accessible from two directions by car, one through the rest of the docks and another through a gate leading out to the highway access ramp beyond, Daniel and Marcus had decided the best move would to be to attack down both avenues of escape and so catch the D'Angelo people between them. Rock and a hard place, or hammer and anvil, choose your quote of choice here. On the two tall cranes which bookended the pier, Ketch had positioned his two sniper teams. Each composed of a shooter and a spotter. At the height the cranes were at both teams could see down into the pier and dock area easily and so gave them perfect overwatch positions.

Cole and Ketch headed up one of the two teams, with five SWAT officers crouched behind them. Everyone wore black fatigues, helmets with visors down, combat boots and tac-vests bristling with extra magazines for their HK416's as well as smoke and frag grenades. Flashbangs were ignored this time out as one, they would be operating outside and so the effect of such a grenade would be limited at best, and two there would be no surprise. As soon as the teams moved in everything would hit the fan. McCauley led the second team consisting or Teddy and Kitty along with another five of Ketch's SWAT, all kitted out the same as Cole's squad.

"Someone's coming." Ketch whispered.

Cole moved his binoculars to aim in the same direction as Daniel, seeing a car driving through the gate leading to the highway. It passed through the two man sentry team without stopping, so whomever it was was known to the D'Angelo crew.

"Cole to Team 2. Hold position, but try to get photos of whoever is in the car." He whispered into his mic.

McCauley and his people were closer to the car than Marcus. Cole heard the double click of acknowledgement over the comm and went back to his binoculars. The car stopped beside one of the two pick up trucks parked on the pier and the drivers door opened, a man stepping out. Ketch swore under his breath.

"Isn't that .." He began before Marcus cut him off.

"Trevor Slattery, Narcotics Bureau Chief." Cole hissed. "No wonder the drugs were coming in so smoothly and without us knowing. He must have been running cover for the D'Angelo's all the time."

"The D'Angelo's and who else." Ketch snarled, "You can bet the asshole is playing all teams against each other and he sits back and just claims his pay off money."

A low chugging noise off to their right got their attention as out of the night a ship slowly approached the docks, its lights on and a mans voice through a loud hailer alerting the dock team to be ready. It wasn't a particular large ship, about three times the size of a decent sized fishing trawler, but it was probably fast enough, and low profile enough to avoid the Coast Guard patrols. The ship smoothly slid up to the pier as mooring ropes were thrown to the men on the dock and quickly tied off.

"All teams stand to." Cole whispered into his mic. As he pushed himself up a little from his low crouch. He glanced at Ketch. "What do you think? Wait till they are in the middle of unloading?"

"Makes sense, they can't shoot at us if their arms are full of crates. The ship ain't going anywhere now its tied off either."

Marcus nodded and felt the rising adrenaline all around him as Ketch's people shifted, easing cramped muscles ready to move. Putting away his binoculars, Marcus brought up his HK 416 and used the sight to watch the unloading. The two pickup trucks were backed up to the ship and six of the dock workers hurried aboard the ship as other people stood around on guard, their eyes looking out, away from the activity of the drugs being unloaded.

Over by the access gate McCauley looked around at his team, he grinned at Teddy and Kitty. "Now we find out if that training paid off, huh?"

"Go ... now, now, now!!" Came Coles voice over the comms and McCauley rose smoothly and began to run, hearing the sound of boots on gravel behind him as his squad followed.

The two sentries at the gate gawped a second as the SWAT team appeared seemingly from nowhere, then began to raise their assault rifles. McCauley put them both down with a double tap each, not slowly for a second as in the distance he could see and hear Cole's team running toward the ship.

 

[PennySaver]

Thursday, 03am, Pier 4, Capitol City docks:

Kitty was feeling anxious about what was about to happen. The raid on the D'Amato safe house had been little more than a warmup for what was going down tonight. Mephisto's persistent monitoring of the docks had shown all of the men and women involved to be heavily armed, even the dirty cops. One of the SWAT members who'd been a soldier in Iraq had warned Kitty, "If only we had a couple of tanks supporting us, you'd think it was Baghdad."

"Cole to Team 2," Marcus's whispered voice came over Kitty's earpiece. "Hold position but try to get photos of whoever is in the car."

Kitty looked to the only other female on her half of the assault team. Holly Briggs had been huddled behind a night vision camera since they arrived; it made no sound as it recorded both motion picture and, when she depressed the shuttle release, still images as well. Most of the team members had helmet mounted cameras as well, but Holly's camera -- which had cost the team almost $12,000 -- was about the best visual recording unit you could buy short of NASA satellite tech.

The sedan came to a stop, and men got out. Kitty hadn't finished the Academy and, therefore, hadn't had to learn the chain of command above her. Still, he recognized the name when one of the Tac-Team members murmured, "Fuck, that's Slattery ... Narcotics Bureau."

"The big dog," Kitty whispered to the man beside her.

"Just about as big as they come," the man whispered back. "There's gonna be some major blowback after this."

"If we take him alive," the SWAT man in charge of their half of the team whispered. He looked to Devon as if he needed the man to emphasize to his people what he was about to say, then stressed, "We need to take him alive."

Kitty saw trying to take a specific target alive as just one more unwanted difficulty, but she would do her part to do as McCauley ordered or, if he added nothing, what the SWAT man had. The sound of the ship put them all on guard again. It arrived dockside and tied up,

"Now we find out if that training paid off, huh?" McCauley said, grinning at Teddy and Kitty.

Suddenly, Marcus's voice filled their ears: "Go ... now, now, now!!"

McCauley took off, followed quickly by Tac-Team members, Kitty and Teddy, and the rest of the Tac-Team. Kitty heard a soft pop-pop from McCauley's sound-suppressed rifle, dropping the nearest of the two D'Angelo guards. Almost immediately, the team split into three teams, advancing on the dock via three paths.

Kitty was accompanied by Holly -- now armed with a rifle, not a camera -- and a male SWAT member. They hadn't progressed another twenty yards when un-suppressed automatic rifle fire erupted less than thirty yards in front of them, the flashes lighting up the dock. The three of them scattered for cover, but it quickly became obvious that the gunfire hadn't been directed at them.

Nonetheless, Kitty leveled her rifle over the top of her cover, aimed carefully, and popped off one shot, knocking one of the men to the ground. To her left, both Holly and the male Tac-Team member opened fire on other targets. The latter rushed forward, with Kitty and Holly following close behind.

Gunfire continued seemingly everywhere around them. Kitty's heart was pounding heard and rapidly, though she only realized it when she next found cover to look for additional targets. Suddenly, a dozen or more rounds from God-knows-where deflected off surfaces all around her.

Kitty dropped to the ground, looking about her for her team members. Holly had a pissed look on her face, sticking a finger through her uniform's sleeve, saying angrily, "Fuck! This is brand new!"

Only later, when all the action was over, would anyone notice that the bullet had actually cut through the top layers of Holly's arm. She'd need 12 stitches later.

Making eye contact with others around them, the three working together pushed onward...

 

[Gabe619]

As Cole and Ketch dashed from their hiding place, trying to cover as much open ground as possible as fast as they could, their team fanned out behind them in a long line, guns up, shouting 'Police, drop your weapons!'. The only answer they got was that of the men before them raising their own weapons and opening fire. Marcus dived and rolled, coming up behind a metal drum and hearing bullets ricocheted from the other side. He took a quick look around. To his left three of the SWAT team had jumped up on the loading dock of the warehouse for pier 4 and were systematically clearing it of bad guys. To his right where the water lay he saw Ketch putting down covering fire for the rest of his team who were pushing forward.

Marcus took a breath and peeking around the side of the drum he was using for cover, seeing a gap in the fire heading his way and moved to his feet, running to the next cover, a stack of crates. As he ran, rifle snug up against his shoulder, he fired off controlled short bursts from his H&K taking down three men who had Daniel and two of his people suppressed. Now behind the crates he took another breath. Fire and manoeuvre, a tactic that went back to the days of muskets. One team put down a withering fire as their fellows moved up, then those people would put down fire as the first team moved up and so on and so on. That was how Ketch's team worked, like an oiled machine.

A sudden string of bullets impacted the concrete at his feet making Cole lurch to the side and look for where the fire was coming from. On the roof of the warehouse to his right he saw two men standing, firing down into the SWAT team. Or at least they stood for a moment before two long range shots sounded and both fell off the roof to the loading dock beneath with a bone crushing thud. Cole glanced up at the cranes overhead and threw a salute to the snipers up there. He was sure he wouldn't be the only one who's neck they saved today.

Slattery had dived behind his car as the shooting began, now he was opening the drivers door and sliding inside hoping to make a getaway. Cole could see him in the distance, but couldn't do much to stop him from this range. The SWAT team he was part of had now got adjacent to the bow of the docked ship and were taking sporadic fire from on deck. Two of the team grabbed grenades from their vests and ran out of cover to the edge of the pier before heaving the explosives high in the air, all under fire, and watching the grenades gracefully sail out of sight before both men turned and dived for cover. A second later two explosions sounded from the deck of the ship with huge balls of fire as three men, of what remained of them, flew through the night. Two fell into the water, the other onto the pier.

"Cole to Team 2, I can't get to Slattery, make sure he does not get away!" Cole barked into his mic.

From the other side of the pier McCauley and his people were thinning out the numerous, but not as well trained opposition. So far they had only taken minor injuries unlike the D'Angelo people who were dropping like flies now as panic began to set in. As Cole's order came over the comms, Devon waved to Teddy and Kitty then pointed at the car Slattery had just started and which was picking up speed, aiming for the gate and freedom.

 

[PennySaver]

Kitty instinctively dove for cover as the grenades exploded on the drug boat's deck. Later, she would remember what the TacTeam member had told her about the difference between Baghdad and tonight and would think to herself, Different my ass!

"Cole to Team 2, I can't get to Slattery," Marcus's voice sounded in her ear, this time not in whisper. "Make sure he does not get away!"

Kitty looked for the escaping car, found it, and looked for a route to cut it off without getting herself killed. She was sitting on her haunches against a wooden crate of Mexican-grown watermelons, while somewhere above and behind her on the boat's stern, one or more thugs were putting high powered rounds through the melons, splattering sticky juice and chunks of red and green all about and upon her.

Kitty made eye contact with Teddy ... and suddenly she was laughing aloud at the absurdity of how she was going to be killed.

She was pinned, and as Teddy looked at her with concern, she rose to a squatting position, pulled one of her grenades from her gear, and tossed it over her shoulder toward the boat, knowing there was no one else from the assault team that direction.

As she waited for the explosion, she hollered to Teddy, "Kill the fuckers shooting at me ... and I'll let you lick all this off me back at the office."

No sooner had Kitty finished talking then the grenade went off, sending bits and pieces of other watermelons and their crates all over the dock; and even before the melon chunks began hitting the dock, Kitty was off toward Slattery's car, hoping to god that Teddy could get the job done.

Whether her lover was handling business or not, there were still bullets pinging off the dock, containers, and other crates as she ran. Kitty did her best to ignore them, thinking only of capturing the highest ranking dirty cop of whom she'd ever heard.

She reached a spot behind an overseas shipping container that gave her cover, leveled her rifle at the approaching sedan, and called out, "CCPD! STOP!"

The sedan slowed for just a short moment, then sped up quickly. Kitty aimed toward the driver ... then lowered her aim to the vehicle's grill and -- with the rifle on full auto -- emptied the clip.

Metal, plastic, and glass spewed all about in a shower of sparks. Kitty knew the car wasn't going to stop and leapt aside, and just a second or so after the car shot past her, the engine compartment exploded. The damage wasn't enough to kill Slattery, but it made it for certain that the Bureau Chief wasn't getting away.

 

[Gabe619]

Whether Teddy's aim and conduct had anything to do with Kitty's offer the young man was never quite sure, but as the girl rushed for the car and the explosion went off, Teddy rounded the concrete pillar he had been taking shelter behind and brought up his H&K. As bits and pieces of melon fell from the heavens, his eyes focused down the aiming reticule. There were four men, two picking themselves up from the ground where the exploding grenade had thrown them, the other two already unleashing bullets at Kitty's tight sexy ass.

"Leave ... my .... girlfriend .... alone!" Teddy yelled at them, though through the din there was no real chance they heard him. Not that it mattered. With controlled, excellent marksmanship Teddy Yarrow clinically put down all four men, one after another, as if they were bowling pins and he just threw a strike.

As they all hit the deck Teddy turned to find Kitty and saw her unload into the speeding car. She dived aside as it sped past, obviously trying to run her down, but the driver had made a fatal mistake. So focused on Kitty, he hadn't been paying that much attention to his surroundings. As he drove past Kitty, Slattery glanced her way, then brought his eyes back in front, but to late. The solid reinforced concrete pillar holding up a lean to roof wasn't going anywhere as the car rammed it head on. It crushed the front of the car sending the Bureau Chief through the windscreen. He rolled off the hood of the car and came to rest on the cold hard ground, blood streaming from a head wound.

Teddy ran up to Kitty as Slattery groggily managed to get to his feet, only to fall back against his ruined car. Seeing Kitty was ok he breathed a sigh of relief. "I took care of those guys for you." He stated with a smile, as he looked her over. In even the black combat fatigues she looked so fucking sexy, his eyes watched a trickle of melon juice slowly run down her cheek, neck, and down inside her fatigues. He licked his lips. He was feeling the adrenaline high of the battle and just wanted to throw her down, rip the clothes off her and do her right here. Instead he activated his mic.

"Team 2 to Team 1 ... Slattery is in custody, but could use a medic." Teddy reported.

Behind him the fight was now over, as the few remaining D'Angelo thugs dropped their weapons and surrendered to the SWAT team. Plastic restraints were quickly applied as the survivors were grouped together than told to sit their asses down. Ketch called in the report to dispatch asking for patrols, ambulances and catch wagons to take the arrested mob soldiers away. Slattery would get more preferential treatment as Ketch and Cole personally drove him to the station house.

 

[PennySaver]

Officer Holly Briggs had been slowly moving closer to the ship's stern brow, plinking away at any bad guy in sight. She watched in awe as Kitty sprinted for the dock's exit and, simultaneously, Teddy took out four bad guys with four shots.

Subconsciously, she heard the baby faced Jumpstreet call out about his girlfriend, but Holly wouldn't consciously recall it until later. Right now, she was concerned with getting onboard the ship and securing the scene. She'd once participated in a raid that had taken too long to conclude, and while her team had been mopping up, one of the thugs had set off explosives that not only destroyed much of the evidence but killed one cop and injured three others. She didn't want to see that happen here today.

Seeing the rear of the ship devoid of bad guys, Holly stood and ran for it. She called into her mike, "Boarding the ship, stern brow. Requesting sniper cover. I repeat, boarding stern; sniper cover requested."

Holly reached the brow even before she finished her call for support and ran up it quickly, her rifle leveled before her. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of one of the crew stepping out of a hatch and, almost immediately, jerking wildly as a sniper's bullet passed through his neck. She reached the ship and carefully began circling the superstructures, checking every corner and bit of cover.

Holly had circled most of the superstructure and was nearing the forward brow when she saw movement. She peeked around the corner, pulling her head back quickly. She was relieved at what, or who, she saw. She hollered, "Lightning!"

One of the SWAT members was a World War II movie aficionado and had chosen the safety codes for the team. A moment later, the man called in return, "Thunder!"

The two of them met midway, giving each other an update. After that, one cop after another came aboard the ship and continued the search. Most of the men they found inside the ship gave up without a fight. One took a pot shot at Holly and her partner, only to be shot in the back by a third TacTeam member who'd boarded from elsewhere, hollering after the gunshot, "Lightning!"

The team spent the next couple of hours fully securing the scene and gathering the shipment to be hauled away. Kitty had been taken away in an ambulance to be checked for any injuries beyond her obvious scrapes and bruises.

In all, once the counting was done: a dozen bad guys were dead; another dozen were injured to one degree or another, with three of them critical and unlikely to live to dawn; only one of the TacTeam members had taken a bullet to his body, though, it wasn't at all critical; and three others had caught either direct fire or ricochets to their body armor. And, of course, there was Kitty, who'd escaped gunfire and yet still found herself being forced to the hospital.

There was another count done as well -- the take of illegal contraband -- though it wouldn't be officially released until well after dawn: 144 kilos of heroine; 22 kilos of cocaine; 13 kilos of pills laced with fentanyl; 55 illegal firearms, of which most were automatic-capable assault rifles or machine pistols; and more than $220,000 in cash, which one of the more talkative thugs claimed had nothing to do with the purchase of illegal narcotics but was instead to be distributed to the dirty cops once the offload was completed and the drugs were safely on their way to distributors.

"Not a bad night," Holly told Marcus and Teddy when next she saw the two of them together. She shook hands with each of them, saying with a sincere tone, "I think I'm going to like working with you."

After Marcus headed away for whatever he had to get done, Holly told Teddy such that no one else heard, "And I think I'd keep your sex life a bit more on the downlow." She hesitated to see if he understood about just what she was talking, then continued, "I've seen a lot of good teams get broken up because of romantic entanglements. Just saying."

She patted him on the back, congratulated him again on a job well done, and headed off to find her immediate supervisor to finish up their night.

 

[PennySaver]

3:40am

Belinda Carmichael had been clubbing all night and was currently at an after-hours club, despite it being a Wednesday-Thursday night. Being as insanely sexy as she was in both body and attitude, as well as being Channel 4's Weekend Weather Girl, had meant that she'd had plenty of men -- and even women -- buying her drinks all night long in the hopes of being chosen to go home with her for a romp between the sheets.

She'd had her pick of possible lovers, and she'd just about made a decision on who it would be, when her cell phone buzzed with a familiar and very welcomed CallerID number. She answered quickly, saying over the booming music, "Hold on! I have to get outside where I can hear you."

Once outside, she got right to business asking, "Tell me you got something good."

"How about a major drug bust down on the waterfront," the male voice responded. "A ship full of drugs, cash, bad guys with guns, good guys with guns, everyone shooting at everyone else."

"Blood...?" she asked rather morbidly. "You know the old saying--"

"If it bleeds, it leads," the man completed. "Trust me: this is a big leader."

Before the man had even finished, Belinda was waving at a man leaning against a late model sedan, asking, "Uber...? Lyft?"

The man answered by opening the back door to his car. Belinda hurried his way, maneuvering like a track star despite her five-inch spiked heels. She told the man on the phone, "Details! Gimme details!"

The man began filling in Belinda with as much information as he had, which honestly wasn't much. She told the driver where to go, adding, "Get me there in three minutes or less and I'll give you another fifty bucks."

The sedan screamed away from the club and through town toward the docks. They arrived even as some of the earliest-to-arrive first responders were. Belinda hopped out, scanned the area, then looked to her driver. "Wanna make another hundred bucks?"

He did, and soon enough the two of them were as close to the action as they could get with the driver filming Belinda on her smart phone. She'd been practicing for an opportunity like this for years, and she handled it like a pro, directing her cameraman to catch this scene or that, this officer or that, this vehicle or that.

When she caught sight of one of the mid-level looking CCPD officers was standing about doing nothing at all, Belinda hurried over to him to interview him. The man didn't initially appear that tickled about being on camera discussing the scene. Belinda told her driver to cease filming a moment, then whispered to the man, "You help me out here, and I'll make it very much worth your while."

She reached to take his hand, fumbling his wedding ring between her fingers as she clarified her intentions, "I can do things with, for, and to you that your wife hasn't done since before you were married ... if even then".

The officer must have believed her, because seconds later Belinda was interviewing him. He didn't initially seem to know much beyond what she had already seen with her own eyes. She told him after again signaling the man with her camera to stop recording, "So far you haven't even earned seeing my tits bared."

"You know the Governor's new Organized Crime Task Force?" he asked after telling Belinda she couldn't record this part of the interview.

"Sure, I heard of it," she answered. Peeking off toward her cameraman, Belinda indicated for him to start recording again. As he did, she asked, "Tell me more ... um, what did you say the group was?"

He fell for her lead-in, repeating, "The Governor's new Organized Crime Task Force ... this was them."

"You're sure about that?" she pressed on. "How can you be certain? Can you identify any of the Task Force's members?"

The man hesitated, but to encourage him on -- unseen by her cell phone's camera -- Belinda reached a hand up to gently caress her fingertips across the delicious upper curvatures of one breast. Still staring at her tits, the cop continued, "Yeah, um ... OCB Detective Marcus Cole for one. He's the Supervisor of the Task Force."

"You're certain of this ... um, I'm sorry, I forgot to ask you your name," Belinda said, smiling seductive at the man. She quickly added, "And what division you're with...?"

Suddenly, the cop realized that he'd gotten himself into something that could only get him in trouble, possibly even suspended or outright fired. There were a great many people back at the Department, particularly within the OCB, who weren't happy about being shut out of such actions as what had happened here tonight. And yet speaking to the press out of turn was still a very big no no.

"I'm sorry, I have to get back to my duties," the man said, quickly turning and heading deeper into the crime scene.

Belinda tried to follow, but the talkative cop signaled a pair of uniforms to keep Belinda out. She finished up by doing a recap to the camera, then returning to the car with her driver. She called the Studio, got in contact with the on-duty Special Reports Producer, and told her what she had.

"Get in here now," the woman told Belinda, then quickly corrected, "No, email me the footage. We'll start editing it now. I want you to remain on the scene. I'm sending you an uplink van right now. Are you dressed appropriately to cover the story, or shall I have someone in wardrobe bring you something?"

Belinda looked to the driver, who made a hotter-than-hell gesture as he also mouthed wow. Belinda laughed, telling the Producer, "I think I'm fine. Thanks."

After that, Belinda and her new cameraman returned to the scene. They covered the aftermath with her camera, then with the newly arrived camera crew. When at last there was nothing new to be covered, Belinda paid the Lyft driver the standard $1,000 stringer fee for a live exclusive. Then, as he helped her back into his, Belinda whispered to him, "Get me back to my place ... and I'll do things to you that'll have you offering me my money back."

 

[PennySaver]

Elmhurst, the D'Angelo Family Compound
5am, give or take

Emelia had only gone to sleep around 2am, and yet when Philip knocked lightly on her bedroom door, she was immediately awake and clear of mind, calling out eagerly, "Come in."

Her bodyguard and righthand man entered, letting the hallway light spill in rather than turning on his Donna's bedroom light. He said simply, "It's over."

She hesitated, unsure as to whether or not she wanted to know how things had gone. Finally she asked only, "And...?"

"Detective Cole's team suffered no serious casualties," Philip told Emelia. "Our people weren't so lucky. But then..."

He didn't have to finish that comment for they'd both expected their people to take the brunt of the damage.

Emelia asked, "The shipment?"

"Seized in whole," Philip answered. "It's being transported to the OCB, presumably for a midday press conference. At least, that's what my contacts tell me."

Emelia laid back down and stared at the ceiling above her for a long moment. Finally, she instructed, "Call a meeting of the Capos. Anyone who participates in our narcotics business. Tonight, 9pm. The Untouchables did their part. It's time for me to do mine."

"Yes, Miss," Philip said with a respectful tone. He was about to leave and let Emelia get back to sleep when he instead asked, "Would you like Miss Kennedy informed of the outcome?"

"No, Philip," Emelia said, clarifying, "Not at this hour. She knows this was happening tonight, but if she was able to get to sleep ... I'm not going to interrupt her. She needs rest."

What Emelia couldn't know was that Jennifer was indeed awake and staring at the ceiling of her own room in anxious anticipation.

 

[Gabe619]

8am, Hanson Building

After dropping off their prisoners at the station house and signing them all in, Bureau Chief Slattery getting a lot of stares as he was brought in handcuffed with a bandage around his head, Cole and the rest of the team departed. Ketch took his people back to their HQ after Marcus had thanked them all, and the Untouchables had returned to the Hanson Building to rest up and shower. Finally getting to sit down with a coffee, the Untouchables leader pulled out his phone and turned it on. he had got in the habit of turning it off before going into action, the last thing you needed when in a firefight was someone trying to call you. But as his phone booted up it began to beep. Curious, Marcus looked at the missed calls, all from an unknown number, all starting a few hours ago.

"Mephisto, could you run this number for me?" Cole asked the hacker as he threw his phone to the man.

The cyber genius caught it, glanced at the number shown and tapped it into his computer. A second later a young woman's picture appeared with a bio of sorts. Intrigued, Cole stood and walked over, retrieving his phone and leaning down to read the information. Frowning in confusion he glanced at Mephisto who shrugged. Why would the weekend weather girl for a local channel be trying desperately to call him? And where had she got his number from anyway?

"Maybe she wants to give you her prediction for precipitation?" Mephisto smirked. "I am sure she is good at working people into a storm. I mean, just look at those legs?"

Marcus couldn't argue that fact, the women was gorgeous with leg that wouldn't end and hair that gave Goldilocks a run for her money. Tongue in cheek, Cole finished reading the file on Belinda Carmichael then went back to his chair to think. It was possible she knew someone from the raid who had told her his name, even though Ketch had sworn his people were professionals. Bringing her image up in his mind he snorted softly. Faced with Belinda walking toward you would any man, or woman for that matter, not want to impress her somehow? Ok, so assuming she had got his name from someone at the raid, he had noticed a media van lurking after all, then how did she get his personal number? Again, maybe she knew someone who could get such information, she did work in media after all. But why would a weather girl be contacting him?

It took him a moment to put two and two together, but finally the penny dropped. She wanted promotion, something better than a part time gig pushing clouds around a CGI display. She wanted to be a proper journalist. What better way to do that than to hook the head of a new task force intent on bringing down organised crime in the city. Cole had discussed bringing on board a journalist with Laura and Governor Harker, to put a good PR face on their activities. Harker had said she would try to find someone she could trust. But maybe, as he had done with his team, it would be better to avoid experienced and famous anchors and reporters and instead get someone from outside the main media hub, someone who would owe you everything if you made them famous. With a smile, Marcus pressed redial on his phone and lifted it to his ear.

"Miss. Carmichael? Its Detective Marcus Cole, I believe you have been trying to contact me? Lets get together should we, and you can tell me why I should work with you."

 

[Gabe619]

After being debriefed by Cole, Teddy had made his excuses and driven to the hospital under the pretence of giving Kitty and lift back to base. he wasn't really worried about her in the way of injuries, the EMT's had to almost force her to go with them to get checked out, but even though he was confident she was fine he also wanted to make sure for himself. Also Holly's warning of keeping any relationship on the down low also had him worried. So far, as far as he knew, none of the Untouchable knew what he and Kitty had been getting up to, well, other than Mephisto, Teddy supposed. He felt torn as to what might be said if it became common knowledge. Would Cole remove him or Kitty from the team? A cold lump appeared in his stomach as he walked into the hospital treatment room.

It was filled with curtained off beds where low priority patients were treated and then released. He walked up to the nurse at the desk and asked where Kitty would be, the nurse pointed to a curtained off bed. Teddy walked over, still in his black fatigues, still coated with melon juice, and pulled the curtain back a little. Inside Kitty sat on the bed looking at a large bandaid that had been applied to a cut. Her other small, shallow cuts and bruises seemed to have also been treated.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Teddy asked slipping inside the curtain and letting it fall closed behind him. "I, uh, told Marcus I would come and give you a lift back to base."

 

[PennySaver]

Belinda Carmichael

"Time to go, sweet cheeks," Belinda told the man laying naked in her bed. She gave his more-hard-than-not cock a glance, cocked her head with imaginings of another wondrous orgasm, then dismissed the idea, telling him, "I gotta go to work."

"It's not even eight," he told her after picking his cell up from her lamp table. "I don't punch a clock. I'd like to punch that again, though."

He'd been smiling as he jabbed an extended finger in the air toward Belinda's pussy as she was slipping into a comfortable pair of panties. She ignored him and continued dressing, telling him more firmly, "Time to leave."

He donned a disappointed expression, slid out of bed, and crossed to her. By now she had also slung her titties in a comfortable bra and was about to slip into a dress. When he tried to take her into his arms, Belinda very firmly told him, "We're done here. Get dressed, get out. You got what you wanted, I got what I needed ... everyone's happy."

He was noticeably disappointed, but he backed away. He asked, "What about last night...? The docks, I mean. You said I was getting some kind of credit for what I did ... filming for you, I mean."

"No, what I said was that if you came home with me--"

"Yeah, yeah, you'd do things to me ... yadda yadda," he cut in. He turned to begin collecting and donning his clothes, murmuring, "Jesus, watching you do the weather, I would have expected you to be a bit more ... accommodating."

She didn't respond to his comment except to glare at his backside. She had, after all, delivered him two orgasms over the last hour or so. What more did he want?

Belinda had been dealing with this kind of criticism all her life, in both her personal and professional life. She was a beautiful woman, which had opened a great many doors for her, of course. But there were a lot of beautiful women in the world. The competition for a good man, a good job, a good time, or simply a good bit of recognition for something other than being beautiful was tight.

She was a good journalist, too, though up until now she hadn't gotten the chance to prove that to the viewing audience. The people above her -- mostly but not entirely men -- couldn't see past her perfect tits and long, delicious legs long enough to give her a shot in front of the camera beyond the weekend weather green screen.

Even now, the Station Manager was trying to transfer the story of the Pier 4 Shootout to a more experienced reporter. The only reason he hadn't succeeded thus far was ironic: the internet was already exploding with video and pics of Belinda covering the story in her sexy clubbing outfit, and the people wanted to see more of her. Once again, her appearance was leading the way.

Belinda finished dressing, only casually taking peeks at the man she'd brought home with her as he also dressed and then headed out the door. There was irony there, too, of course. She'd used her beauty and semi-fame to draw him to her bed. She could have had just about any in the club, male or female. What did that say about her priorities?

Fuck'em, she thought to herself. Good for the goose, good for the gander ... or the other way around, I guess.

Across the room on her nightstand, Belinda's cell phone began vibrating loudly over the wooden surface. She picked it up, finding the CallerID listed as Blocked. That didn't bother her, and she answered with a simple, "Hello?"

"Miss Carmichael?"

Belinda didn't recognize the voice. With what she was trying to be a part of, she expected -- hoped -- that she wold be seeing more of this. Again she answered simply, "Yes."

"It's Detective Marcus Cole."

Belinda's heart skipped a beat, literally or figuratively or both, she couldn't know. After leaving the docks, she'd spent the Lyft ride making calls to anyone and everyone she knew in an attempt to get Marcus Cole's phone number. She'd had to make some promises -- erotic promises, as those were her super power -- but she'd gotten it finally. How many messages had she left? Three? Four? Ten?

"I believe you have been trying to contact me?"

"Yes, thank you for getting back to me, Detective," she started off, showing respect for his position on the Force. "I'm covering the Pier 4 Shootout for Channel 4 News."

That wasn't entirely true, of course. So far, the Station had aired her footage on their website, but they were yet to put her footage -- or her, live -- on the TV.

"My sources tell me that you are the lead on the case," Belinda continued with a confident tone. She hadn't verified this information yet, but she hoped his response would either confirm or contradict it. "They also tell me that you are in charge of the Governor's new Organized Crime Task Force. Care to comment?"

Belinda half expected Marcus to end the call then and there, possibly without even a farewell. She was happily surprised when he said, "Lets get together should we, and you can tell me why I should work with you."
She was so surprised by his response that she didn't immediately know what to say. After a moment, she offered, "I'm told you favor a little mom'n'pop diner downtown. How about I buy you breakfast ... late breakfast, I mean ... say, 10 o'clock?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
​

Belinda dressed down for her breakfast meeting. She'd replaced her clubbing skirt, bustier-style blouse, and five-inch heels with a tight fitting, mid-thigh length dress and heels half as tall. Oh, sure, she still looked hot as hell. But she looked more professional than she had last night.

Seeing Marcus enter, Belinda scooted out of the booth and waited for him to arrive. She did this out of respect and, of course, because she wanted him to see her. She didn't mind getting an eyeful of him either. He was tall and handsome and carried himself well. She offered out her hand as he reached the booth. "Detective Cole, Belinda Carmichael. Thanks for agreeing to meet me."

 

[PennySaver]

Kitty was getting antsy, waiting around for nurses and doctors to finish up with her. She'd told them there was nothing wrong with her, that it was only scrapes and bruises, and yet they'd put her through a battery of tests. In the end, Kitty had to admit that it had been a good idea as they'd found she'd suffered a mild concussion from the blast that had occurred just 15 feet away.

"Hey, how you feeling?" Teddy asked as he pulled back the curtain, then let it fall behind her. "I, uh, told Marcus I would come and give you a lift back to base."

"Bullshit," she responded, smirking devilishly. "You just wanted to see if I was still covered with lickable watermelon."

She stood, shed the hospital gown to show Teddy her otherwise naked body, and said, "You're too late. They made me shower because I was sticking to everything."

Kitty pushed up against her lover, pulling him tightly against her as she pressed her mouth to his for a wet, erotic kiss. Whispering while clutching his ass in tightly gripping claws, she promised, "But I have a bottle of butterscotch syrup at home that--"

The curtain suddenly flung open, revealing one of the nurses who'd been hassling Kitty for the past hour. She woman shook her head as she moved to the monitoring equipment, ordering, "Get dressed, Miss Zhang. The doctor released you."

Kitty giggled, slapped Teddy on the ass, and turned to do as she was told. The hospital had provided her with a set of scrubs as her Tact uniform was filthy. The nurse had her sign a couple of forms, after which Kitty looked to Teddy and -- without shame -- said, "So, why don't you take me home and we'll see how much of me you can cover with syrup."

 

[Gabe619]

Between when he hung up with Belinda and when he met her, Marcus had made some phone calls of his own. He went over his idea of using someone from outside the usual press gaggle, the reporters that had already made their bones and were known on tv's throughout the city and country. Those journalists would have sacrificed their first born for another big story. Belinda Carmichael however was a young up and comer, she needed a hand, she needed a story and Cole sold the Governor on the fact that they could control Belinda way more than they could a journalist she might know by their first name because they were always throwing questions at her. They had leverage over Belinda because if she didn't play ball they cut all ties with her and Cole was confident her station manager would push her so far back down she would be lucky to get her old gig back as weekend weathergirl.

He turned up at the restaurant dressed in black jeans, a tight white button up shirt and black boots and jacket. He saw the reporter, well, soon to be reporter if she did as she was told, waiting for him and smiled as he walked over to her taking her hand in his. He couldn't help admiring her as he approached, she was gorgeous, and as an admirer of beauty Cole's look wasn't that of a pervy, lecherous guy wanting in her panties. Instead it was a warm look of appreciation and delight.

"So, Miss. Carmichael. You're reporting on the arrests made at Pier 4 last night are you? For Channel 4 News?" He smiled and ordered coffee and some eggs and bacon and waited for Belinda to order something if she wanted. As the waitress walked away he lent back in the seat and his smile widened. "You see the problem is that according to the station manager you aren't reporting on anything. Indeed he is using the footage you got last night later today with Kathy Edwards, the early evening anchor? I'm sure you know her well." He shrugged. "You're not getting off to a good start by lying to me, Miss. Carmichael .... however, all is not lost. I have a proposition for you."

He glanced out the window watching people walking by, cars driving, every day activity. He had almost forgotten what that looked like, then he turned back to Belinda. "It's really quite simple. Myself and the Governor need a PR presence in the city, someone we can trust. Someone who won't fuck us over for ratings or to push an agenda. You need a chance to make it big, to get your face known, to be a presence to the people who live in Capitol City. Together we can help each other. The deal is, I give you first hand information on what we are doing, and after we act you and only you will get the interview on the operations. We won't talk to any other reporters and if they push all they will receive is no comment. The Governor will ... speak, to your station manager and make you the channels primary reporter on our activities. You won't get the anchor desk, not yet, but this will help you get your reporter credentials."

He leaned forward now, his face serious. "But be warned, you try any sneaky crap, try to do a run around on us, try to interview any of my team or anyone connected with us while you're working with us and we kick you to the curb." He relaxed a little as the food arrived. "So, what do you say, Miss. Carmichael? Interested?"