A Police Officer's Story - part 4
by Ben Nettleship

Six days later

"All cars, all cars. Report to Patriot City Bank. Armed robbery in progress!"

"Roger that, Dispatch, this is car fifty-seven. ETA, thirty seconds, code three," Jack said into the radio, switching on the lights and sire, slamming on the brakes and pulling a u-turn, causing cars in both lanes to slam on their brakes. Jack pushed the accelerator down to the floor and sped off on the wings of swear words and anger from the other drivers.

"Why do you have to do things like that?" Patrick asked. "You're gonna get us both killed one of these days."

One of Jack's few vices was driving like a madman when he was in a hurry. "Hey, you only live once," he responded with a large grin on his face.

"And that's the one I'm worried about," Patrick shot back.

Jack was about to respond when the front window shattered. The two cops ducked down as a gangster coming out of the bank opened fire with his Thompson submachine gun.

As the bullets whistled by overhead, Jack turned the wheel on the car and applied the gas. With a loud crunch, the patrol car swerved and slammed into the gangster, sending him flying into the wall.

Jack and Patrick bailed out of the car with their .38s in hand. They fired off a few shots at the door, causing another two thugs trying to leave to duck back into the bank.

"This is car fifty-seven," Jack shouted into the radio. "Officers in danger! Officers in danger! We need backup now."

"Roger that, cars thirty-six and fourteen are closing in on your position and will be there shortly."

"Understood, we'll stay under cover until then."

More sirens were sounding in the distance. In a few minutes, they had circled the block and had set up a barricade near the front door. Even the chief was there.

"What's the situation?" he demanded, walking up to the two.

"We've got about eight of them barricaded in the bank. From eyewitness reports, they drove up in that armored car. I think that about ten of them already escaped before we got here," Jack said to the chief.

"Right, keep an eye on the door and make sure they don't get to that armored car."

"Understood."

Jack walked back to Patrick, who was aiming his gun at the door. He started to say something, when two thugs dived out, with their guns in hand. A dozen pistols fired, and the two crooks fell to the ground, bleeding from several wounds.

"Damn. Why don't these guys just give up?" Patrick snarled.

"Don't know, hey, who's that over there?" Jack said, pointing at a metallic man talking with the chief.

"Hey, wasn't he at the docks when we got Nuclear Winter? Man-Bot, that's what his name was, wasn't it? And that's Mentor," Patrick said, taking a look.

"Yeah, that's right. That's Freedom Force. What're they doing here?"

"Preventing them from getting away, I believe," Patrick said, his jaw dropping open as a beam of energy came out of Man-Bot's hands and slammed into the armored car. The gas tank gave out and the van exploded. The officers ducked down, as shrapnel from the explosion bounced off cars and the front wall of the bank.

"Jesus Christ, you moron!" Jack yelled, standing up. "You nearly killed us, Goddamn it!"

Before Man-Bot could reply, the back of the bank exploded. Mentor and Man-Bot took off, heading off to intercept the escaping thugs.

"Those idiots!" Jack muttered. "Don't they have any sense?"

"Guess he just didn't know," Patrick said, holstering his gun.

"That's besides the point. He should have known. And why'd he blow it up? Why not just go in there and get them. He can take bullet shots."

"Point," Patrick admitted, "Looks like you were right, law enforcement should be left to us police officers."

They chatted for a little while, until Man-Bot showed up with a crook in hand whom he proceeded to threaten for a bit until he got an answer.

He walked off and talked to thin air for a few seconds and then felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you out of your freaking mind?" Patrick shouted, waving his other hand around. "You can't threaten a prisoner like that!"

"And what would you do?" Man-Bot responded, turning to face the officer.

"Cuff him, take him downtown and lock him up. You can't ask questions and threaten to hurt him if he doesn't answer. It's unconstitutional and illegal!"

"It gets results. Now, I have to take care of some business," he stated and then started to leave with Mentor.

"Bloody vigilantes, they should just stick to the supervillians and leave the ordinary crooks to us," Patrick muttered, returning to Jack. "Why don't we go to the theatre that thug mentioned and take care of this ourselves."

"Good idea," Jack replied and then shouted over to the chief. "We're following up on a lead to the Starlight cinema. We'll take car forty."

"Get on it," the chief shouted back. "We'll take care of things here."

They pulled open the doors of car forty, since their car wasn't going anywhere except a garage, climbed in and sped off again.

"Okay," stated the chief, turning back to the devastated area and his subordinates. "Haul 'em downtown, and close off this area. The detectives will be here soon, don't disturb any evidence."

The duo pulled up in front of the cinema just in time to witness police officers hauling several unconscious and slightly charred thugs out of an alley.

"What the hell is going on here?" Jack shouted, slowing down the car a bit.

"El Diablo," one officer shouted back. "He knocked some sense into these guys. We found the loot from the bank robbery."

"A bit of luck there. Any idea where he's headed."

"Down to Pinstripe's restaurant, probably. You know where that is, right?"

"Yes," Jack sighed. "We do."

Everybody knew where Pinstripe's restaurant was, that he was a mob overlord and that it couldn't be proven in court. One of the little disadvantages of living in a democracy.

Jack flipped on the sirens, and burnt rubber, as he made another u-turn.

"I don't know what's going to kill me first," Patrick muttered. "A crash from your driving, or a heart attack from your driving."

The officers arrived a few seconds too late to prevent a tragedy.

"Hands in the air! Do it, right now!" Patrick screamed, leveling his gun at the four members of Freedom Force as they stood over the fallen body of Nick Craft.

"Easy there, Officer," Man-Bot said as Minuteman lifted the body. "Pinstripe did this."

"Jesus Christ, you had to try to be a hero, didn't you?" Jack demanded, stepping forward angrily. "Our system might not be perfect, but it's a damn sight better than the anarchy you're causing! There's a reason why we arrest vigilantes, and if the mayor hadn't legalized your group, I'd see you all in jail!"

"But-"

"Now which way did Pinstripe go," Patrick asked, taking a step forward.

Mentor pointed, and the two officers ran in that direction, leaving the heroes to ponder Jack's words. **

"Damnit, it's the fuzz. Move, you apes!" Pinstripe shouted at his men, as Patrick and Jack rounded a corner. The mob boss grabbed a Tommy gun from one of his men, and unloaded the drum in the direction of the police officers.

"Damnit!" Patrick shouted, ducking back into the alley then leaning out and firing off a few shots, and then ducked back again as Pinstripe returned fire. "I can't get a clear shot at him."

"Goddamn punks with their bloody automatic weapons," Jack muttered.

"It's been that way for decades, no sense in moaning about it," Patrick replied, firing a few more shots at Pinstripe.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"True."

"What we need are some bulletproof vests, like the military uses."

"Yeah, but we barely have enough funding to keep our cars in good shape. Where are we going to get the money for something like that."

"The bloody politicians can come up with it. How do they expect us to do our jobs with inadequate equipment?"

"Hey, the shooting's stopped," Patrick whispered, changing the subject. He took a quick look. Indeed, Pinstripe had stopped shooting and was now escaping in his limousine. Sirens sounded as another police car took up the chase.

"Quick, we've got to get after him," Patrick said. "Let's get back to the car."

"Right, at least now we might have a chance of convicting him of something," Jack noted, taking the lead as he ran down the street.

As Pinstripe tried to escape, another pair of elite police officers took up the chase as well.

"Special Agent John Johnson here," the man said into his car's radio. "Agent Williams and I are currently in pursuit of super-criminal Pinstripe."

"Confirmed," came the reply. "We've notified local law enforcement that you are in pursuit. Do your best. Since this is the first assignment of the FBI super-humans enforcement division, the results will determine whether we remain in existence or not."

"Understood," Special Agent Johnson replied as he flipped on the red light and siren in the car window.

More sirens sounded as Patrick and Jack pulled up behind the black FBI car.

"Who the hell are these guys?" Patrick wondered aloud and then received an answer.

"Car forty, please be advised that FBI units have been dispatched to help apprehend Pinstripe."

"Understood," Jack replied, weaving through the traffic as he stayed directly behind the FBI, car twenty, and Pinstripe's limo. "Damn, this is our jurisdiction. Ah, what the hell. We'll need all the help we can get."

"I wish the blue boys would get out of our way, I can't get a clean shot at the bastard," Agent Williams growled as he slammed a clip into his M-16 and racked it. The division they were in got access to the latest weapons, including the new assault rifle being issue to armed forces that would replace the M-14.

Suddenly, a burst of Tommy gun fire shredded the tires of car twenty, causing it to flip off the road and hit a lamppost. Another burst smashed the windows of the agent's car.

"Be careful of what you wish for," Johnson replied, ducking down to avoid the bullets. "I think I would have preferred them to remain where they were."

"Goddamn," Patrick said, as they zoomed by the wreck. He grabbed the radio and called in the location of the wreck. It was obvious that if the officers had survived the crash, they would be in the hospital for a long time. "Pinstripe is going to pay, in spades."

"You've got that right," Jack vowed, angrily. "He's never done anything like this before. I mean, he may be more powerful ever since he became a supervillian, but hell, we can still arrest him. I've never seen a mob boss act like he has before, going on a shooting spree like this."

As they rounded a corner, another car appeared. It pulled out next to two cars chasing Pinstripe and a pair of gangsters leaned out the side windows with Tommy guns in hand, and then the cops started dodging bullets like raindrops.

As the side windows shattered in the car from the hail of bullets, both officers ducked down. Patrick reached grabbed the riot gun next to the seat, as Jack frantically tried to steer the car. "Hold it still and I'll try to shoot them," Patrick shouted, above the noise of the engine and the chattering of the machine gun fire.

Then, the gangsters changed their tactics and started shooting at the tires of the cars which worked. The FBI car's tires burst and they came to stop in the middle of the road, the police car slamming into them.

"Got 'em," said one of the gangsters grinning. "Stop the car and let's finish this."

The driver nodded and slammed on the brakes, stopping the car about twenty feet down the road. The three gangsters climbed out and headed towards the crash.

There was a loud explosion and one of the gangsters flew backwards through the air into the car. Patrick pumped the riot gun, but realized that he wasn't going to get off a second shot before he was filled with more holes than a piece of Swiss cheese.

As the two surviving gangsters raised their gun, Agent Williams exited his car and descended upon them like an avenging angel of death. His M-16 chattered a staccato beat, and he shot six 5.56 mm bullets into the chest of the first gangster, then shot a seventh and final bullet into the forehead of the other one.

"Thanks for the assist," Patrick said, dropping the shotgun and wiping the sweat off of his forehead. "Jack and I really appreciate it. Right Jack?"

Officer Conner then became aware that Jack was responding. He turned back to look in the car, and saw that Jack's head was still lying on the steering wheel, and there was some blood coming out of his mouth. His eyes were distant and unfocused.

"Oh my God, somebody call ambulance!" Patrick yelled.

To be continued...