Authors note:
So, I thought a month was too long to go without posting something. I had this one on the back burner and plan to fill in the posting gaps with it. Let me know what you think.
Hayden
****
Sometimes Sergeant Charles "Sarge" Jeremy thought he'd been a cop for too long. I mean, he was good at the job. He liked the job. But it had to be having an effect on his life. Didn't it? The movies always made it look that way. T.V. too. They couldn't both be wrong. Could they?
His thoughts always meandered into the stupid or juvenile. Whenever he sat by himself for too long. "That was the effect the job was having on him," He thought.
[Adam - Clark - 2 - O - 5, this is Command. Come in. Over.] squaked his radio.
"Go ahead Command. Over."
[Closing the noose now. Over]
A drug seizure was being executed. A local gang known as the "Vatos Muertos" had a big shipment coming in. Several of their leaders would be here tonight. Not that it mattered to Sergeant Jeremy or his men. They weren't sexy. They weren't S.W.A.T. Or Drug Task Force. Or even Detectives. They were just big, scary, dependable patrolmen. So they had the suck duty of manning the East side of the operation in case any "Vatos" slipped out. There were three other Sergeants with three other teams manning the other perimeters. All sitting on their asses. Bored out of their minds. Trying to explain to themselves how this job wasn't making them dumber.
"All Clark - 2 - O units, copy that? Over." Sarge called across the radio. And listened for his four men to respond.
[211, good copy. Over.], [212, good copy. Over.], [213, good copy. Over.], [215, good copy. Over.]
214 wasn't there. He was in the hospital due to two bullet holes in his leg. A domestic disturbance call a few days ago due to some asshole who had to prove what a big man he was by beating his woman. Now "asshole" was in jail for attempted murder of a police officer and poor Sandy was missing this. "Sandy would be smarter than the rest of them now. Due to having missed this an all." Sarge thought.
He could hear the action now. Yelling and screaming coming from the warehouses to their West. Some gunfire as well. It sounded like it was getting pretty lively down there. After only a few minutes the noise started to subside. There was a little more screaming and shooting but nothing compared to a moment ago. He heard someone yell again. It sounded like a cop shouting at a perp. BOOM!.. BOOM!.. BOOM!.. That sounded like a .45 or bigger. Maybe a magnum? Then more yelling and machine gun fire from what he knew was a cop issued MP5.
[Clark2O5Beawareone...] The caller stopped to catch his breath from all the excitement. [...got passed us! We think it was Bruja! Be on alert. She is armed. Over.]
"No shit." He said to his windshield. "Good copy, Command." He replied to the radio. "All Clark - 2 - O units, copy that? Over." His team replied in the affirmative.
Bruja, "the Witch", Quirina Ortiz: pronounced (Key with a rolling 'R' reena and Ortiz). Sarge had seen her around since she was a kid. She was such an adorable child. She had little black pigtails. Always wore a white summer dress with bright red patent leather shoes. She was so happy. Sarge had never actually talked to her. She was one of those children you see on your patrol. Running around and playing with her friends.
Then one day. Something changed. No more dresses. No more smiles. She did a short time in county for aggravated assault. But she had been different for a long time before that. She was a KBoy. One of those people the leaders of the Muertos called on when they needed someone dead. No one could prove it but they were pretty sure she'd killed more people than her entire gang.
She loved super bikes and when she was promoted to being a boss in the family she founded the "Vaqueros." Four of her buddies who rode super bikes and liked the Ruger Blackhawk. Probably because it looked like a cool cowboy six-shooter. The damn thing must have weighed ten pounds. "Which is a good thing when firing from a bike doing ninety miles an hour." Sarge thought. The weight would cut all the magnum recoil. Her and her Vaqueros had their bikes tooled for left handed throttle. That allowed them to use their right hands to fire while riding. Normally.
Sarge laughed at movies where the bad guys were on bikes chasing the scared people in the car. Because the car could just swerve a little and kill most of them. BUT when those dicks were packin .357 magnums? And trained to shoot while going balls to the wall on a bike? Bruja had created one hell of a hit-n-run squad.
When she was nineteen Sarge was pulling security at the community pool. The duty was simple. Look intimidating, wear your sunglasses, and make sure nothing stupid happens.
He saw Bruja there with a lot of Muertos. It was a hot day so everyone was there. But he could not keep his eyes off of her. Her skin was just a bit darker than most and the white bikini she was wearing really flattered her. Even with the many scars and the few tattoos he could not stop looking at her. She had obviously been shot on many occasions. Stabbed, beaten and cut on several more. And still, he had to fight to keep from staring at her.
He had hoped his asinine infatuation had gone unnoticed. But one minute he was scanning the crowd for potential morons. And the next her little five foot six frame was standing in front of him with hands on hips.
"You see something you like, cabron?"
Sarge watched her for several moments before removing his sunglasses. Bending down to eye level with her, he said. "You need to take your tight little ass back over to your friends and enjoy the rest of your day, chula." He stated in that hard flat cop voice.
She chewed on her lip for a bit before walking back to her familia. He assumed she had told them what he said when several of them laughed uproariously. From that day on he had noticed her big dark eyes watching him whenever their paths crossed.
But that was six years ago. She was twenty-five now. She had fought more. Killed more. And she certainly wasn't going to let some bullshit flirtation get between her and staying out of jail.
Sarge got out of the car and closed the door. He found a spot that would allow him visibility down the two crossed alleyways and hid in the shadows. He could hear the yelling more clearly now but it was still a good distance from him.
He didn't really expect to see or hear anything. So he was surprised when he heard a scrape from inside the building across from him. A moment later he thought he saw some movement from behind one of the old windows. He heard periodic small movements from inside. It sounded like she was looking for a quiet way out of that building. He thought it best to sit tight.
He realized one of the windows had only cardboard covering it when he watched her lift it up and into the building. He saw her look up both sides of the alley from inside before she stepped through. "Yup. It was Bruja." He thought.
When she looked around again she froze. Sarg realized that once she was out a bit she could see his patrol car. She stayed like that trying to gage if the cop inside had seen her or not. When it was obvious no one was there she looked around to see if he was behind her. It wasn't long before she dropped to the ground, pulled out her .357 and hopped to the far side of the alley. About four feet from Sarge, actually.
He stepped over, grabbed her left arm and pulled it up behind her back.
Securing her gun hand he said, "Police, Bruja! You're under arrest!"
"GOD DAMN IT!"
"Drop the gun." It's not like she had a choice. The magnum fell to the dirt of the alley. "Now, I'm going to reach for my cuffs. If you try to move on me. I'm going to pull this arm of yours up between your shoulder blades until your shoulder pops out of its socket. You got me?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I got it."
He retrieved his cuffs and braceleted her right hand then brought it behind her to cuff the left hand as well. He pushed her firmly against the building while he used an evidence bag to collect her pistol. With that off the ground he walked her to his patrol car and pushed her against the trunk.
"You suck! You know that?"
"People tell me that all the time." He smiled as he dropped the weapon through the window of his cruiser. Retrieving another plastic bag he said, "But never people I like." He finished as he returned to her.
"Yeah. Yeah. Fuck you too."
"Mm Hm. Do you have anything sharp in your pockets that could stick me?"
She was shaking her head. "No." She said flatly.
