Law & Disorder

[MADBULL34]

The 34th Precinct of Tier 5 was a noisy den of chaos and criminals, but no more so than usual in the past month. It had only been a scant few days since the accident at Karachi Plaza’s elevated train station (MAD BULL 34: LONG ARM OF THE LAW); the gory event would have merited a national day of mourning in higher tiers, but here down below on the 5th, it was an inconvenience for some and business as usual for most. Engineers had assessed the damage and determined it would take six months of work to get that rail station in working order again. Fortunately for Sergeant John Estes, his diagnosis wasn't nearly as severe.

Mad Bull had spent a week in the quiet coalescence of a hospital bed with a dislocated shoulder and some superficial wounds. The first two days had been a trip to blissful Dreamland filled with morphine and reruns of Night Court, but the next five were a little more bumpy. By the end of the week, the Director of Medicine had grown tired of Sleepy showing off shrapnel scars on his bare hairy ass to any 22 year old nurse to innocent to realize what he was after and kicked him to the curb.

Things were not so bright and bawdy for the passengers he had rode with. All told, 41 commuters ended up dead that day, plus the quickly dispatched Officer Janie Phanili. The press were having a field day, with papers flying off the shelf that described the carnage as instigated by homegrown terrorists… or the police force themselves. Yellow and red rags each told their own tale, the facts be damned. What mattered though, is that Sergeant John Estes had caused a headache, one which the Chief of the 34th Precinct was all too eager to be rid of.

Not long after his hospital discharge, Mad Bull found his gargantuan body squished into the tiny, squeaky wooden chair that sat opposite the Chief's desk. Chief Edwin Mundo was an old fashioned cop… perfect for the old fashioned sort of criminals that plagued the Fifth Tier of Corsucant. He had walked a beat for years in the 34th, carried that badge proudly, and could understand the violent means necessary to keep his turf safe.

The greasy cigar jutting from his thick sausage sized lips smoldered, casting a pungent haze across the messy office. He inhaled deeply, and sighed with fatherly exaggeration. With a sweaty old palm, he ran his meaty fingers through his grey buzzcut hair.

“Goddamnit, Sleepy! I swear to Mary and her fucking Space Baby Jesus that you go through partners faster than a two-bit whore smokes rocks! How long did that kid even last, huh?”

“ 'bout 8 hours, Chief.”

“Christ on a Christmas cracker, Mad Bull! That's not even a full shift! You got any idea how much a pain in the ass it's gonna be to write her next a’ kin a paycheck for half a day's work?”

Sleepy shrugged.

Chief Mundo sarcastically imitated Mad Bull’s shrug. Uneasy stillness enjoined the two men as they looked grimly at the other. Through the office door the two men could hear the din of clacking keyboard keys, the cacophony of ringing phones and the shouting and arguing ever present at the Watch Commander's desk. The two men stared intently at each other. Finally, Mad Bull broke the silence.

“Listen Chief, you gotta let me go after that blonde crum that iced Junie. I owe it to 'er!” he exclaimed, beating one fist against the other.

“Julie, you mean Julie.” the Chief corrected helpfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I think I got a hot lea…”

“Not a chance Sergeant Estes! You know, I been thinking 'bout how ya got that nickname o’ yours. You're strong as a bull… and twice as smart!”

Sleepy flashed him a bright smile, “Hey, That's mighty nice, comin’ from you Chief!”

“It's not a compliment you buffoon!” Chief Mundo bellowed. He plucked his cigar from his mouth and crushed it into an overfilled ashtray. With measured intent, he continued, “I can't rely on you to chase clues down like some kinda gumshoe, so you're off the case!”

Mad Bull raised a fist in protest, but a fearsome look from the Chief told him to sit down and shut up.

Past the door and down the hall, a mischievous and flirty chatter arose from the secretarial pool. The sound of heeled boots and the jangle of a heavy sidearm could be heard rhythmically approaching.

“I can't trust you with new recruits, so this time I'm partnering you up with someone outside the precinct that's more accustomed to your particular policing style… but hopefully equipped with a handful more brain cells.”

There was a light knock on the door and a turn of the knob that preceded the Chief rising from his chair and calling out, “Come in!”

[Jacket]

This morning for Pardo has been quite annoying to live with. He spilled his coffee in his car he got from Omnibucks and his boss complained to him about his reckless nature from the other night how he took care of a robbery. Pardo wasn't looking forward to another long day on his job. Plus, he's been given word from his boss that he's being paired up with a policeman who has shown up to the Omniverse and worked with the EPD for weeks now. He even was ordered to drive to the 34th Precinct of tier five. To Manny, that precinct was a shithole compared to his home office he worked at. The sooner to get over this day, the better. Pardo hasn't been paired up with a partner in his career before.

He's used to working on his own jobs or investigated some crime scenes. The detective made his way to the office area to get to Chief Edwin Mundo's office. A foam cup with black coffee was in Pardo's hand and he took a sip out of it to at least get some caffeine into his system. How the coffee was, Manny said that the police coffee sucks here. Before entering the chief's workspace, Pardo checked his watch on his left risk to see if he was on time. Sure enough, he was but a little too early before his introduction.

Pardo had to wait outside which he leaned on the wall to be out of people's way. Some officers and stormtroopers would walk pass the chief's door. A lot of yelling went on in the chief's workplace which people can hear through the walls. Pardo sighed and reminded him what he's gone through earlier today. After waiting for a couple of minutes, the chief gave him the signal to come in. Pardo took a deep breath and one more drink of his coffee then entered the office by opening the door.

He didn't really have much to say except his facial expression looked like he had a long night yesterday. No words came out of his mouth but they could tell Pardo probably didn't get much sleep. He took a seat next to mad bull still having his coffee in his hand. The detective took a good look at his new partner. Pardo hasn't seen any police officer that was big and built just like mad bull. His partner also looked like he had a lot of experience working with the law.

"Pardo, I would like you to meet one of my men here. Sergeant Estes, he's a prime like yourself detective. Sergeant, this here is Detective Pardo and he has been working with the EDP for some quite time now. Now, I hope you two fellas get along nicely." said the chief looking at the both.

[MADBULL34]

“Dispatch to Car 22, Dispatch to Car 22, do you copy, over?”
 
The little radio hung in the center console of the police cruiser and squawked insistently; Sergeant John Estes, aka MAD BULL, grumpily muttered a reply in his sleep.
 
For two hours now, the sergeant and his new partner, Manny Pardo, had been parked outside Happy Harry’s Burger Flippin’ Drive-Thru enjoying an extra long lunch break on the taxpayer's dime. Sergeant Estes, often called “Sleepy” by his friends, was enjoying a healthy nap after a not so healthy bag of fried ‘taters and double cheeseburgers; his partner, on the other hand, sat uncomfortably in the driver’s side chair, coffee cup at his lips, impatient to know how much longer it'd be until all the supposed action would come around for the ostensible “Mad Bull.”
 
Manny took another sip from his wax paper cup filled with day-old Happy Harry coffee and wondered if the radio could manage to stir his new partner.
 
“Car 22! This is Dispatch! DO-YOU-COPY, over?!” the voice squawked again, this time more insistently.
 
Mad Bull woke up with a start, sat upright in his chair and banged his head on the roof of the cruiser. “GODDAMMIT!” he bellowed.  The whole vehicle rattled with the impact, spilling a few droplets of stale coffee on Manny’s pant leg.
 
“See what they want already, I’m trying to get some shuteye!” Mad Bull exclaimed while rubbing the bruise at the top of his head.
 
With a smirk, Manny took the speaker in his hand and depressed the button. “This is Car 22, what's up Dispatch, over?”
 
“We got a report of a 273D in a block house on 5658 Wabansia Ave. Are you in the vicinity? Over!”
 
“Hey! Wake up Mad Bull!” Manny prodded the groggy sergeant. “I’m not from the 34th Precinct. Is that nearby or what?”
 
“Yeah, yeah, it's near enough. Code 273D, what is that, domestic battery?”
 
“You got it. Sounds like the commander wants us to check on some battered wife. What do you think, worth our time?”
 
“Could be,” Mad Bull replied.
 
“Dispatch, what's the apartment number on that report? Over!” Manny asked.
 
“4th floor, apartment 3B. A neighbor called it in, said he heard screaming and broken glass, over!”
 
“Copy that Dispatch, we’re in route, over and out!” Manny said with finality before flicking on the siren lights and rushing towards the 5600 block of Wabansia.
 

---

In five short minutes Mad Bull had directed Manny through a maze of side-streets and alleys that weren’t on the GPS. As the pair pulled up, they exited their cruiser and took a lay of the land. A dilapidated block house made from solid concrete rose 10 stories tall. It looked like the sort of poor tenement the local government would send the homeless or destitute to. The neighborhood was deserted, unless you count the bums and vagrants sleeping amongst the garbage that littered this ramshackle city block. With their feet now firmly planted on the pavement, both men stretched their limbs out and scanned their eyes for the third floor. Suddenly, they two heard the crash of glass and both instinctively ducked. A chair came flying out a third floor window and collided with the ground in a splintering thunk!
 
“Guess that's the place,” Mad Bull remarked with a grin.
 
“Yeah…” Manny replied, taking a final sip and draining his cup of coffee. He crinkled the wax paper cup and tossed it carelessly at the curb.
 

KAPAAH! KAPAAH! KAPAAH!

 
The sound of an automatic pistol firing suddenly rang out from the third floor window and both men could see the flash of the gun muzzle.
 
The time for joking had ended and both cops looked at each other seriously as they drew their weapons.  Mad Bull opened the cylinder of his revolver, taking a careful look to insure all six .38 special bullets were ready to fire.  Together, they crept towards the entrance of the block house shoulder to shoulder.
 
“You wanna take point, or should I?” Mad Bull asked with grim determination.

[Jacket]

The detective summoned his Mossberg 500 Cruiser and loaded it full of twelve-gauge rounds then pumped his gun to be ready.

"I'll take point." said Manny calmly ready to for action.

"Heh, that's a way to show some balls." said Sleepy grinning at Manny's response.

They entered the apartment building with their weapons armed. The place was a mess and not as clean where Manny lived. Trash littered the place, stains were on walls, wallpaper peeling, and the smell wasn't nice to come to Pardo's nose. Bass music can be heard booming through a wall from an apartment. This whole place wreaked with poorness and possibly not the best people of Coruscant. Scum was the theme of these homes. The two continued to walk in a fast toward the stairs then up it with good speed.

When they reached the third floor, yelling and crashing noise can be heard louder now. Some residents were outside of their doors, peeping where all the ruckus was coming from. They noticed the police was present on the scene which scared a few away because they were afraid things might get ugly. Both primes reached the home where the crime was happening. Before Manny could knock, gunfire and a woman's cry happened from behind the door. Without hesitation, the detective kicked the wooden door open so hard it broke the lock.

The two rushed into the small home and raised their guns up at the gunman. From their loud entrance, the beaten woman shrieked in terror. The drunken abusive husband who was Caucasian wearing a dirtied wife beater and gray jogging pants pointed his gun at the two. Manny and Sleepy could just smell the strong aroma of alcohol from the gunman.

"Goddamn pigsh, can't you shee that I'm hafing an important taulk with mah dumbass wife!" slurred the husband swaying a bit from his drunkenness.

Something caught the two policemen's attention pass the suspect, the wife held her dead fourteen-year-old son in her arms. She kept sobbing and was in shock from the incident. The son's blood covered the torso and chest of the hurt mother. Disgust and anger filled the policemen from what the abusive husband did.

BOOM!!!!

The detective's shotgun fired off, making the husband fly backward hitting the wall then slumped to the ground.  Blood and guts sprayed around where the suspect was standing even leaving a trail. The husband examined the decent size hole in his stomach with a confused drunken look. Within seconds, he died having the same expression on his face but with a chilling look. Sleepy wasn't expecting his partner to make such a violent move. Hell, he was about to pull the trigger on the wicked man. The wife cried more from the gruesome site of her deceased husband.

Manny cocked his shotgun, releasing the empty shell out of his weapon. His partner holstered the Smith and Wesson revolver after the suspect was dead. The mother grasped her deceased son's body tightly from shock. Pardo walked up to the husband's body with his shotgun at ease and examined it to see if he was still alive after that shot. The gun that the husband used, laid flat on the ground next to the corpse. Sleepy came up to the woman and tried to encourage the woman to leave the apartment. He even told her to get away from here as far away as possible. Soon, she finally listened to Sleepy and walked out of the apartment carrying her dead son.

"Christ, I thought I was the only one in this job to pull off a move like that." said Sleepy to Pardo while the detective stood in front of the corpse.

"This is the only goddamn way were going to clean up this city. If that man didn't kill his son then I might have had a second thought on pulling the trigger. It's freaks like him that make me sick every day looking at and hearing that they'll sometimes get to go free. They don't even get a damn death penalty for killing someone sometimes." said Pardo resting his shotgun on his shoulder.

Sleepy's walkie began to sound off with chatter from the dispatch.

[MADBULL34]

"Dispatch to Sergeant Estes, do you copy? Over!"

Mad Bull unclipped the radio from his police utility belt and took in the grisly scene in the apartment. His face was grimly stoic. Violence, murder, and death were second nature to the seasoned law officer.

"This is the only goddamn way were going to clean up this city."

Manny Pardo's words rang in his ears as the sergeant gave the wasted corpse of the husband a venomous look. The son's blood still smeared the walls of the cramped, dingy apartment, and dollops of gore were dripping down to the red-stained carpet. The burly man couldn't help but think the wife-beater got what he deserved, so why did he feel a nagging sensation at the back of his conscious?

"Dispatch to Sergeant Estes, do you copy? Over!"

Estes pressed the receiver button and spoke into the radio, "10-4 Dispatch. That 273D ended up being a 140. The husband pulled the trigger on the son before we arrived. Over."

"Good heavens!" the radio statically gasped, the dispatcher for once showing a hint of emotion. "C...c...copy that sergeant. I assume I should send down EMTs?"

"Yeah, we got two stiffs. The kid and his dad. Over and out."

Mad Bull grimaced as he clipped the radio back to his belt and glanced towards Manny who was rummaging in the kitchen.

"Fuck Mad Bull! Check out all the skag in here!" Pardo shouted through the dingy apartment.

Mad Bull crept over the splattered corpse of the husband, exited the miserable living room and walked into the cramped kitchen. The tile floor couldn't have been more than 3 foot wide and there was no hope of the massive police officer cramming himself in there with Manny. Instead, he simply stood at the open archway that led into the kitchen and took stock of the scene. 

At one point the yellowed kitchen cabinets had been painted a handsome white, but were stained with ancient food smears. The cabinets surrounded the tiny kitchen, except for a broken down oven range, a disgustingly dirty microwave, a humming refrigerator and about 3 feet of kitchen counters. A weighing scale sat atop the old stove; a kilo of red powder held in a little paper cup was balanced against a steel weight. A five gallon drum lined with plastic was standing on the floor and was halfway filled with the same red powder. Two mixing bowls laid on the kitchen counter, one filled with empty white capped vials and the other with those that had already been filled. Orange pill bottles, some filled, littered the floor and the counter; it seemed someone had knocked the drugs off the counter. A two-foot by two-foot window was set at the back of the kitchen; it offered a depressing view of the neighboring brick building's wall.

Manny Pardo squatted on the tile and picked up one of the pill bottles. Still kneeling on the ground, he held the bottle up to the hazy fluorescent light in the kitchen. "Looks like Amaranth. This shit's taking over the streets, but not the kinda thing you'd expect to find in a dump like this."  (See "Westside Canon" for Street Drug List: http://omniverse-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=8224)

Just as Sergeant Estes grunted his ascent, the two officers suddenly heard the front door, which they had left open, quietly *click* shut. The two policemen froze and looked at each other. Manny held a finger to his lips and Estes nodded silently.  The two listened closely and heard voices whispering outside in the hall.

"The pigs iced Ronnie!"  one voice rasped.

"Fuck, fuck fuck!"  a stocky, feminine voice replied in a panicked whisper.

"You get the boys, or the Hutts are gonna literally eat us alive when those coppers take our gear!"  she continued in a hush voice.


The two officers could hear the jangling footsteps of someone running down the hallway, then the opening of a door. From the sound of the footsteps, they could both tell that the woman had remained in place, guarding the exit.

Mad Bull's mustache twitched and he reached for the Smith & Wesson revolver at his hip. Manny stayed crouching and patted the Mossberg 500 he held with one hand, but motioned for the sergeant to stay still and quiet with the other. The two men looked nervously at each other. Silently, Mad Bull pivoted on his feet, leveled his revolver at the door and held his aim in wait.  Within twenty seconds, more footsteps returned, but this time with the jangle of weapons. Four unknown assailants had gathered together outside in the hall, the apartment walls separating the two groups from violent confrontation.

Those in the hallway lingered outside the door until one punk tentatively put his hand on the nob and tried to stealthily open the door.  A white-skinned punk with a greasy black mullet and thin beard cracked open the door and stuck his head in the small opening.

He looked to the left into the gory living room. All clear, minus Ronnie's blown-out corpse.

He looked right into the little attached bathroom. All clear, minus that terrible piss smell.

He looked dead center into the kitchen.


KAPOW!


The hammer on Mad Bull's revolver slammed into the first .38 special slug in his revolver, turning the punk's head inside-out. Eyes, nose and brains were mixed and stirred into a pink cocktail of gibs that sprayed out through the back of his skull and into the opposite wall. Cries of confusion and surprise could be heard through the deafening ring from the first shot.

"Give'em the heat!" the stocky woman ordered loudly from the other side of the wall. 

FACKAA, FAACKAA FAACKAA!

Three automatic weapons cut through the thin wall of the apartment, shooting from outside the hallway into the kitchen. Manny dove lower to the floor, covering his head from the shower of broken tile, cabinets and bullets. Mad Bull grunted in pain as three sub-machine gun bullets banged against the back-side of his Kevlar vest and another sunk into the meaty bit of his left forearm. Sergeant Estes' revolver thunked against the floor loudly as he crumbled to the carpeted floor, face down.

CLICK-CLACK!!

FAAKOOOM!!

Manny cocked his Mossberg 500 and blasted a shot over Mad Bull's head into the wall separating him from the apartment hallway and the unseen assailants. A football sized chuck of plaster and wood was obliterated, opening a little window to the hallway just outside. One of the men in the hallway bent over and looked into the blown-away wall, surprised the shot hadn't taken off one of his limbs. He looked through the hole and into the cramped kitchen, spying Manny squatting on one knee, a look of rage in his eyes.

CLICK-CLACK!!

FAAKOOM!!

Manny blasted another shot from the same position, eviscerating the deathly foolish man's head.

CLICK-CLACK!!

Pardo readied another shell into the chamber as the headless man limply slumped to the ground. The stocky woman's voice called out again, "Keep the heat on! Let'em have it!"

FACKAA, FAACKAA, FAACKAA FAACKAA!

Manny dove low to the kitchen tile again and Mad Bull shielded his head with his arms as he laid prone on the carpet. Red clouds of Amaranth puffed into the confined air of the little kitchen. As the drug began to diffuse in the air, the two policemen began to feel vital, strong and ferocious. Mad Bull groped around the floor of the tiny apartment and grabbed his revolver that he had dropped earlier. Not bothering to take aim, he squeezed off two rounds in quick succession at the increasingly ruined wall.

KAPOW!

KAPOW!

"Yeeeeeeeeoww!" the third man in the hallway howled. The two officers could peek through a little fist-sized hole that had been blown in the apartment wall, not even a foot off the floor. One of the punks on the other side of the wall was hopping on one foot, clutching his grisly, torn boot. After a few hops the man fell to the ground wailing, grievously injured. The stocky woman who had been shouting out orders before screamed in frustration, her three goons now eliminated by the two cops.

"SUCK ON THIS, PIGS!" the stocky woman screeched. The woman pulled the pin off a grenade and tossed it through the football-sized hole Manny's shotgun had blasted open. It landed with a "tink!" at Manny's feet.

[Jacket]

After dropping the grenade, the woman sprinted away toward the stairwell and began running down the steps.

"Shit! Hit the deck!" cried Manny dropping his weapon then ran away from the grenade and made a mad dash for the exit of the apartment.

Sleepy saw the grenade hit the ground and made a shocked expression at the unexpecting surprise that their enemies dropped. He followed behind Manny to get far away from the grenade as possible.

KABOOM!!!!

The small apartment exploded and both policemen busted through the wooden door, barely escaping the explosion. From the grenade going off, it shook the whole floor of the apartment complex. They leaped in the air after busting through the door and landed on the ground with a hard impact. From the landing, it knocked the breath out of them but Pardo got the worse since Sleepy's giant body landed on top of him. The home was destroyed and the wall that had the hole made by Pardo was demolished.

A mess was left in the kitchen and the color of the interior turned blackened scorch marks. Shrapnel from the grenade was stuck to cabinets and parts of the kitchen due to it flying at high velocity from the explosion. Smoke came into the hallway from the destructive scene, causing the smoke alarm to go off. The noise blared in their ears and some residents burst through their doors to see what the hell happened.

Sleepy rolled over on his back and got off the detective. A groan came out of his mouth after the impact they felt. Pardo also groaned while laying down on his stomach but he remembered that their suspect was getting away.

"Come on Bull! Get up! We got punks to bust!" said Pardo coughing from the smoke that filled the hallway.

The detective got his body off the ground being on his hands and knees then stood up. He helped his partner to stand up on his feet and pursue the criminals that tried to kill them.

"Fuckin bastards! That's the second time this week that someone tried to blow me up!" replied Sleepy in a frustrating mood.

"We're not gonna let those pricks get away that easily!" commented Pardo as the both started running down the stairs quickly to catch up with the suspect.

The woman huffed and puffed while she stepped onto the second floor. She could hear the men of law following in pursuit.

"Shit!" escaped her mouth from a breath while going running down the steps, noticing the cops did survive the explosion.

Sleepy and Pardo made it on the third floor but continued to descend. The criminal reached the first floor and began a full-on sprint to the door. A resident stood in her way which the lady shoved the person out of the way forcefully, making him fall onto the ground hard.

"Hey, bitch! What's your problem!?!" screamed the middle-aged man in frustration while giving her the bird.

She burst through the door and was back on the street seeing that her driver with the white van was still parked across the street. A relief came over her and ran across the street quickly. The driver noticed his passenger and started up the vehicle.

HOOOOONK!!!!!!

A random car driver slammed on his breaks that made the tires screech against the pavement. He nearly hit the stocky woman from jaywalking.

"WATCH WHERE YOU ARE GOING, DUMBASS!!!" yelled the driver out of his window but she didn't have time to give that rude man a beating for his life.

She made it to the van and ran over on the other side of the vehicle to hop on the passenger side. The suspect got in successfully and shut the door behind her hard.

"DRIVE!" she commanded the driver who was a Gran alien species.

The driver slammed on the gas causing the tires to spin out before they took off. Right when they took off down the streets, the policemen exited the apartment complex and noticed the suspicious vehicle that had the suspect in. They ran to the cruiser while their felon was escaping.

"I drive. You shoot!" said Pardo as he got in on the driver's side.

"Good idea!" replied Sleepy getting in the cruiser too.

Manny started up the car and flicked on the lights that blared the siren. He slammed on the gas pedal hard which caused his tires to spin out with a loud screech. The detective turned the vehicle away from the parallel park with a sharp turn, causing them to drift and go in the direction where the suspect was escaping. They flew down the street fast but was far behind the van and Pardo can see it. The van tried to dodge the traffic that was present on the road while behind them, the traffic pulled over and cleared the way for the incoming EPD cruiser with a siren blaring.

The van tried to go the max speed but the policemen were catching up to them at a fast speed. Noises of the siren grew closer and closer toward them which made the stocky woman worried.

"God dammit!" yelled the woman looking behind her seat that had an AK-47 resting.

"Don't worry and keep driving! I'll deal the cops myself!" commanded the woman as her driver nodded in response.

She got out of her seat and grabbed the AK and pulled back the bolt carrier, making the weapon ready to shoot. The criminal made her way back in the van and kicked the double doors opened while aiming her rifle.

"FUCK THE LAW!!!!!" yelled the stocky woman with a war cry and began spraying at the incoming police cruiser while her red hair flowed from the wind.

Bullets flew down the street at the police which Manny tried to swerve back and forth to dodge the incoming projectiles.

[MADBULL34]

FAKAAFAKAAFAKAAFAKAA!!!
 

The bullet resistant glass of the police cruiser filled with worrying cracks as AK-47 fire splashed across the windshield, compelling both law officers to instinctively duck. The stocky redheaded woman cackled with glee as she tossed away the banana-shaped rifle clip, snapped another in its place, and pulled back the firing bolt.
 
Yahagaha!” She cried as she unleashed hell on the two cops again.
 

FAKAAFAKAAFAKAAFAKAA!!!
 

Pardo, with lightening quick reflexes, jerked the wheel and weaved the cruiser out of the bullet’s deadly path. The machine gun was resonating with echoing fury, ricocheting slugs dangerously off the tarmac and into the surrounding traffic.  The cruiser bounced, banging Sergeant Estes’ head against the roof of the car as Pardo humped over the sidewalk and dashed the vehicle along the pedestrian path.
 
Mad Bull furrowed his brow and rubbed his bruised skull. “Where'd you learn to drive you half-witted son of a…”
 
“Stop running your mouth and just ice that bitch, would ya, Sleepy?” the detective retorted.
 
The double backdoors of the van banged open and shut as the criminals careened and hugged a tight left turn at an upcoming intersection. The woman lurched and grabbed hold of the van’s side wall, her onslaught of bullets momentarily interrupted.
 

KAPOW!
 


Mad Bull squeezed his massive body halfway through the passenger side window, took aim at the woman and fired off his fifth .38 special round.
 
Tong!
 
The woman threw herself against the floor of the speeding van as the revolver’s bullet resounded against one of the swinging double doors. A foot wide circle of the metal on the back door was imploded, as if a meteor had struck the vehicle. She clutched her AK-47 closely, like a child seeking the comfort of a Teddy Bear and thought, “Holy shit! That was almost my goddamn head!”
 
Mad Bull grumbled as he tried to steady his hands. Both cars were racing at breakneck speeds, and each bump in the road or turn of the wheel was breaking his aim. He looked into the cylinder as the two partners followed in hot pursuit; only a single bullet remained. “Better make this one count.”
 
Pardo’s knuckles were white and locked in a vise-like grip against the wheel. Manny had counted the Sergeant’s shots and knew the grizzled vet could only carry six cartridges in that antiquated gun of his. “Hold on you fucking gorilla, let me get you a little closer,” Pardo said with grim determination. Mad Bull grunted his assent, bracing his body that still poked out the window, trying to get a bead on the target. Meanwhile, the woman had regained her footing and was trying likewise to steady her aim on the cruiser.
 
Manny hit the gas and the much faster cruiser brushed against the back bumper of the van. The criminal’s getaway car rocked on its axles and the woman let out a cry of surprise as she fell on her back to the floor of the van. In her sudden panic she pulled the trigger of her weapon, emptying another full clip in wild directions.
 
WEOOoooooo...
 
The siren on the cop car pathetically died out after the rifle’s fire destroyed the device in a sudden spray of blue and red colored glass. More worryingly though, the cruiser's engine began to knock and smoke plumed out of holes punched into the hood. Manny pressed the accelerator pedal all the way down, giving the cruiser one last burst of speed before the engine pumped its last piston. The woman tightly held onto to the floor; the van was going to fast for her to stand up.
 
Within seconds the cruiser had scrapped along the side of the van and pulled up even, driver-to-driver. The gran alien blinked it's three eyestalks in disbelief and pounded his fists against his steering wheel, urging the van forward and away from this murderous pair of cops.
 
“Blast 'em, Sleepy.” Manny shouted through the deafening howl of roaring engines.
 

KAPOW!
 

Mad Bull's sixth and final shot catapulted through the passenger side window of the van, across the cab, and splatted out the alien’s head and further still through the driver's side window. Greenish grey blood and yellow skin had exploded within the cab, painting the windshield and seats with the tattered gory splorts of the driver's head. Torn flaps of skin limply fluttered at the stump of his neck; for a millisecond the corpse sat in place like that, it's hands still on the wheel in a ghastly imitation of life. The headless driver eventually slumped and the decapitated neck flopped wetly onto the steering wheel, blaring the horn. The driver's foot remained firm on the gas pedal, but a small bump in the road jostled them off, plunging the van into a haphazard sideways tumbled.
 
The police cruiser's engine puttered out and died, leaving the two cops to sit stunned within their seats as the speeding van turned side over side, twisting and gnashing it's metal body against the debris strewn street. With a final metallic crunch, the van collided with a fire hydrant and crumbled like a discarded box of crackers. Smoke and dust thrown up by the collision created grey haze and the destroyed hydrant was shooting a thick stream of water into the air. Dozens of startled pedestrians began to gather around the wreckage, hoping to steal a look at a mangled body. Detective Manny Pardo and Sergeant John Estes began to make their way on foot to the scene of the accident.
 
The stocky redheaded woman limped out of the back of the van. She looked dazed from the stomach churning roll of the van and blood covered her scalp. One of her arms hung loosely at her side; it had been twisted and broken inhumanly during the collision. Water, sprayed by the broken hydrant, dripped like rain onto her blood-caked cheeks, rousing her from the moment's confusion. She fumbled weakly with the AK-47 still tethered to her by it's shoulder strap as she peered half awake through the fog of destruction.
 
Manny grabbed the collar of Estes’ blue police shirt and yanked the bulky officer downward behind a parked car for cover. They peered through the windows of the abandoned vehicle at the woman. The bloodthirsty redhead was scanning her surroundings, searching for the two killer cops that had given her so much trouble today. Traffic had backed up and stopped while pedestrians had gathered a relatively safe distance from the maniac woman and accident. She looked through the hazy streets filled with smoke, misty water and cautious onlookers. Her lips twitched in pained fury and she squeezed off three or four shots at the sky in frustration. The crowd screamed and began to surge in the opposite direction.
 
Sergeant Estes flicked open the cylinder of his Smith & Wesson revolver. Empty. He looked at his partner and his Mossberg 500 shotgun. It was a powerful weapon, but would only pepper the woman from their hiding spot 50 yards distant.
 
“Any ideas, Sleepy? Is it time to call in for backup?”
 
“Fuck backup,” MAD BULL muttered as groped one of his paws into his jockstrap.
 
“Hey, this ain't the time for that…” Manny started, until he suddenly stopped and looked wide-eyed at what the Sergeant had pulled out.
 
“I..I..is that standard issue?” Pardo stammered as he looked at the musky smelling hand grenade John Estes was wielding.
 
MAD BULL's smirking reply seemed to suggest it was not as he pulled the pin. He waited a second, then tossed the bomb at the woman's feet.
 
It landed right on target with a soft metallic click. The woman’s eyes had followed the arc of the grenade lobbed at her. She grew pale and fumbled with her rifle.
 
Tick.
 
She tossed the weapon to the ground and squatted down by the timed explosive.
 
Tick.
 
Her broken arm waved uselessly while her other struggled to grasp the grenade.
 
Tick.
 
Her eyes were wide with fear as she stood and cocked her arm to toss the bomb back to the two cops.
 

BLAAKOOOOM!

 
Blood and guts showered the city streets, diffused into a fine pink mist by the spraying hydrant. Heavier chunks fell down to the earth, as if it was raining bags of raw ground beef. The two officers walked slowly towards the crumbled van and the black smudge where the woman had once stood. The two cops were washed over in carnage, their cloths stained red as the torrent of gore dripped all over their grinning faces.
 
“I don't know why, but I feel like gettin’ burgers,” Sleepy remarked to his partner.
 
“I'll tell you what Sergeant, you promise to write the report on this one, and I'll buy.” Manny replied with comradely pleasure.
 
The burly cop patted his stout belly. “Famous last words, partner!”


CASE CLOSED!