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Aug. 11th, 2009 03:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
basricTITLE: "SPINE CRACKERS"
FLAVOR: Criminal Intent
CHARACTERS: G/R
WORD COUNT: 618
RATING: R VIOLENCE
A/N: CONTINUING STORY OF "THE CHOSEN ONE"
Bobby and Ross hurried through the light misting rain into the alleyway.
“I’m about halfway down.”
One minute they were alone and the next surround by three very large men wielding knives. Bobby and Ross both stepped toward the building so their backs were against the building’s walls.
They both flashed their badges. “You boys just put the knives away and go on about your business and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“He,” pointing toward Bobby, “IS our business, we got no beef with you so you can go free. You can go call a morgue wagon for him, cause we were paid to cut his throat. We’ll be done and gone time you’re back with help.”
To Ross’ credit he stood firm, “I think not, three against one, I think these odds are better.”
One pulled out a shotgun, “Your funeral. Don’t worry, this is just so no one runs, it has to be a beat down and slicing.”
Bobby tried talking them down--perils of cop-killing the life sentence, but it seemed they’d already been paid five thousand with another five when the job was finished. All three were high on something.
Ross watched as Bobby sort of collapsed into himself making himself seem smaller and wondered if Goren was afraid. He wasn’t too steady himself but he‘d be damned if he left his detective alone. This was going to be bad. It was obvious these guys were profession spine-crackers. The shotgun prevented them from going for their weapons. Two of the men without the gun began weaving tossing their knives back and forth.
Bobby’s voice barely audible, “Ignore the show. Watch their eyes. You take the left guy, go low to the right and a kick into his left knee. When he goes down stomp the hand with the knife--flip and cuff. Don’t look at me concentrate on your guy. These guys are enforcers. Re-enforcing what Ross already suspected.
As they reached striking distance Bobby rose to his full height and width. A moment before the charge Ross came back, “The shot gun?’
“Mine. Just take care of lefty.”
It happened very fast. Seconds. Ross followed Bobby’s instruction dropping ’lefty’ and he was on top and had him cuffed. He turned toward Bobby. One guy lay unconscious on the gravel, the guy with the shot gun up against the wall with it pushed into his neck.
“Who paid you to kill me?”
“I don’t know, some guy in a bar. I want a lawyer.”
Bobby flipped and slammed him with disgust against the wall then cuffed him.
Manhattan officers were swarming into the crime area, Bobby ignored them, Ross had called them, he could deal with them. After a few heated words ending with have your Captain call me, he made his way to Bobby.
“Thanks captain, I’d of been in trouble if you hadn’t been there.”
“Why do I doubt that.”
Bobby looked at him over the car’s roof.
“Grew up in Brooklyn during a time you learned to street fight or you learned to bend over or to die. Those lessons stay with you. Now I’m just a lot older and a little slower.”
Ross shook his head having grown up in an upper middle class family himself it was difficult to grasp the concept of life such as Goren had lived. But thank God for it. Strange how he automatically trusted what he said and followed his instructions. Not like him at all.
His cell rang and after a few moments he snapped it shut. “Their crawling over each other to make a deal. The description our attackers gave are all the same.”
“Looks like Jim Rawling?”
“Jim Rawling. He’s getting desperate. We need to hurry. Let’s go find Liz.”
FLAVOR: Criminal Intent
CHARACTERS: G/R
WORD COUNT: 618
RATING: R VIOLENCE
A/N: CONTINUING STORY OF "THE CHOSEN ONE"
Bobby and Ross hurried through the light misting rain into the alleyway.
“I’m about halfway down.”
One minute they were alone and the next surround by three very large men wielding knives. Bobby and Ross both stepped toward the building so their backs were against the building’s walls.
They both flashed their badges. “You boys just put the knives away and go on about your business and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“He,” pointing toward Bobby, “IS our business, we got no beef with you so you can go free. You can go call a morgue wagon for him, cause we were paid to cut his throat. We’ll be done and gone time you’re back with help.”
To Ross’ credit he stood firm, “I think not, three against one, I think these odds are better.”
One pulled out a shotgun, “Your funeral. Don’t worry, this is just so no one runs, it has to be a beat down and slicing.”
Bobby tried talking them down--perils of cop-killing the life sentence, but it seemed they’d already been paid five thousand with another five when the job was finished. All three were high on something.
Ross watched as Bobby sort of collapsed into himself making himself seem smaller and wondered if Goren was afraid. He wasn’t too steady himself but he‘d be damned if he left his detective alone. This was going to be bad. It was obvious these guys were profession spine-crackers. The shotgun prevented them from going for their weapons. Two of the men without the gun began weaving tossing their knives back and forth.
Bobby’s voice barely audible, “Ignore the show. Watch their eyes. You take the left guy, go low to the right and a kick into his left knee. When he goes down stomp the hand with the knife--flip and cuff. Don’t look at me concentrate on your guy. These guys are enforcers. Re-enforcing what Ross already suspected.
As they reached striking distance Bobby rose to his full height and width. A moment before the charge Ross came back, “The shot gun?’
“Mine. Just take care of lefty.”
It happened very fast. Seconds. Ross followed Bobby’s instruction dropping ’lefty’ and he was on top and had him cuffed. He turned toward Bobby. One guy lay unconscious on the gravel, the guy with the shot gun up against the wall with it pushed into his neck.
“Who paid you to kill me?”
“I don’t know, some guy in a bar. I want a lawyer.”
Bobby flipped and slammed him with disgust against the wall then cuffed him.
Manhattan officers were swarming into the crime area, Bobby ignored them, Ross had called them, he could deal with them. After a few heated words ending with have your Captain call me, he made his way to Bobby.
“Thanks captain, I’d of been in trouble if you hadn’t been there.”
“Why do I doubt that.”
Bobby looked at him over the car’s roof.
“Grew up in Brooklyn during a time you learned to street fight or you learned to bend over or to die. Those lessons stay with you. Now I’m just a lot older and a little slower.”
Ross shook his head having grown up in an upper middle class family himself it was difficult to grasp the concept of life such as Goren had lived. But thank God for it. Strange how he automatically trusted what he said and followed his instructions. Not like him at all.
His cell rang and after a few moments he snapped it shut. “Their crawling over each other to make a deal. The description our attackers gave are all the same.”
“Looks like Jim Rawling?”
“Jim Rawling. He’s getting desperate. We need to hurry. Let’s go find Liz.”
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Date: 2009-08-12 02:42 am (UTC)COMMENT
Date: 2009-08-12 11:27 pm (UTC)