Bullets ricocheted off the metal barrel she was ducked behind. Her gun was gripped tightly in her hands. She and her partner had cornered a drug ring in an empty warehouse and backup wouldn't be there for probably another ten minutes. She was running low on ammo and knew at least 6 of the armed men were still shooting. She could barely tell where her partner was, she could only hear the shots aimed at their general direction. She took a few more shots and managed to catch one gunner in the shoulder. She could hear sirens and the whir of a chopper hovering nearby. She let out a relieved sigh.
As the group of heavily shielded backup entered, more gunfire was released, hammering her ears with the concussion of rounds. When all fell quiet, she looked up into the face of one of the relief officers. He was shaking her gently and pulling her hands from her ears. "Are you alright?" At this point, things went into slow motion. "Man down!" was heard over the rumble of movement the the warehouse. Where was her partner? Where was her fiance?
"Jack!" She screamed when she stood and saw him laying on the ground. She fought off the hands holding her so she could run to his side. Someone was already trying to revive him. She touched his paling face, looking for wounds or signs of life. A bullet had found a gap in his vest, right under the arm. Blood was quickly pooling on the ground. All was silent as they reported him dead, except for the sound of the woman's sobbing.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On that day, the lord of the drug ring had managed to escape and allude capture thanks to the two officers being pinned down. Five years has passed and he was already beginning to rebuild his empire.
Samantha, no longer on the active force, was stuck on desk duty. After the loss of her fiance and partner, she had withdrawn from everyone. She still had her gun and badge, but the force didn't want her to become a liability on missions when dealing with the crime ring.
Sam organized her desk one last time before leaving the office. She gave the receptionist a small smile on her way out the door. She was going home early, wanting to try and get a few things taken care of across town before the sun went down.
She stopped at a small hot dog vendor, brushing her blond hair out of the way as she paid. She was on her way back down the street but paused after she passed by an alley. There had been a few dark clothed figures circled up. She listened with her back against the cooling brick wall. Her experience as a cop hadn't disappeared. She caught bits and pieces of what they were saying. Something about a meeting at the docks for a gathering. To her, it sounded like this was an undercover operation and the drug lord himself would be there. This would probably be the opportunity to take him out before he could do more damage.
Samantha hurried down the street. If this so called meeting was to happen tonight, then she needed to get prepared. She would dig out her equipment, suit up, and get a stakeout on the area. She took the next cab to pass and was home in half an hour. She'd just have to worry about her other errand running tomorrow. Tonight, she had a mission. She would make the criminal suffer for what he did to her life.
She typed up an email and sent it to the police chief. She knew he would try to stop her, but he needed to know what was going on. It would just take longer for him to retrieve the message than a simple phone call. She would be set up and stalking her prey before he could do anything.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The sun had been down for a number of hours. She lay perched on the edge of one of the nearby buildings, having a wonderful vantage point of the entire dockyard. It didn't take long before she saw the small units of people moving in to one central location. She didn't know exactly what this crime lord looked like, but she expected he'd be graying, probably easy to spot out in this type of crowd. Not many older individuals would want to become wrapped up in the gang system when they were close to retirement.
She crawled back over to the fire escape and silently made her way down. She wore a Kevlar vest, knowing she would probably need it, though if there was a firefight, she wouldn't probably make it out alive. She was ok with that, it would mean she wouldn't have to go back to living alone with the regret of not backing up her hopeful life partner.
She moved across a service road and ducked behind the nearest shipping crate. She still had several hundred yards between her and the gathering thugs. Her heart was already pounding as she pulled her gun from her hip and removed the safety. She made sure the way was clear before darting out and moving to the next set of boxes. She could already hear the chatter of the group. He was probably getting updates on his stock and seeing how corrupt he had already made things.
Sam worked her way closer, avoiding a few lookouts before she was only two sections away from the group. She could see them clearly and picked out the oldest. He seemed to be standing near the center next to a younger, more attractive man who was talking. He nodded his head in agreement before turning and leaving the circle. She couldn't tell what had been said, but everyone cheered.
She watched as the gray haired man left the ring of minions and moved into the field of crates. 'Probably to relieve himself.' She mused. Perfect time to put a bullet in his skull, with his pants down.
She had a pair of handcuffs attached to her belt, along with a flashlight, her badge, and spare ammo. She would attempt to first take him in alive. If she could get her hands on the leader of corruption in the city, he could go to trial and rot in prison. She worked her way around the crates, watching him and he found a corner to urinate. She walked silently until she was just a short sprint from him. She engaged her weapon and moved, pressing it to the back of his skull. "You're under arrest, City Police." She kept her voice low, not wanting to alert the others. "If you call out, so help me, I'll drop you right here."
He seemed thoroughly frightened and lifted his hands. "Good boy." She reached for her cuffs just as she felt something jerk free from her belt. She turned in time to see her mag flashlight swing at her head. She was stunned for a moment before collapsing onto the ground in utter darkness.
[[I have two scenarios. She can either have been knocked out by the crime lord himself, the rather attractive gentleman who was speaking before; or she could have correctly deduced the lord and is incapacitated by his son or right hand man. I'll leave it up to you. This has been an idea I've played with for a while. PM me if you're interested. Literacy is a must, no minimum number of sentences. I even post short sometimes.]]
