Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Misery ❯ Hell Bent ( Chapter 15 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Kita and Subu-chan 
Anime/Manga: Fake Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Action / Drama / Romance / Police | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 02.05.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 407 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Fake Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Action / Drama / Romance / Police | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 02.05.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 407 | Status: Work In Progress
Chapter Fifteen-Hell Bent
See Chapter one for full disclaimers-all of which still apply.
A/N What’s to say? Things are coming to a head. And Catti? *Forced grin* Akita hasn’t slept or stopped bouncing off the walls in four days. Hope you’re happy.
Drake pressed the end button with a vaguely unsatisfied feeling. I know he’s upset that he can’t come along on this collar, but what was that? JJ’s not usually so twitchy about arrests.
He caught Ted’s odd look as he pulled out into the traffic. “What?”
Ted shook his head, but his expression remained unsettled. “Nothing, man. Just promise me we’re going to go to Kellie’s for that drink when this is all over.”
Drake shot him a sideways glance. “Sure. What brought that on?”
Ted finger-combed his spiky red hair. “I was just thinking that we all need to unwind a little. Maybe a few beers, a game of pool, or something.”
Drake shook his head. “Sounds good, but we need to concentrate on bagging our boy, Manny, first.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” Ted slumped back in his seat and remained silent as Drake drove.
First JJ and now Ted. What the hell’s with everyone tonight? Drake sighed and concentrated on his driving, giving his poor abused brain a rest.
Ten minutes later, they were in a less than savory section of the city-not quite the ghetto, but not far from it. Both of them kept alert as they started passing buildings tagged with gang colors. Thankfully, there were no signs of impending trouble. Drake was relieved when they made it to a row of sagging apartment buildings, packed so closely together it looked like they were holding each other up. Ted also breathed a small sigh of relief. “Don’t like this place. Reminds me of the first neighborhood I was assigned to patrol as a rookie. Wound up in the middle of an all-out turf war.”
Drake nodded shortly as he scanned the worn and rusting numbers on the buildings. “Yeah, been there too. There!” He stabbed a finger at the dilapidated cement façade of a building. “That’s our address.”
Ted nodded shortly and picked up the radio, requesting that backup be on standby. It was a wise precaution. It was all too easy for things to go to hell in a handbasket. Hands on their weapons, Ted and Drake emerged from the car. Up fourteen flights of grimy metal stairs, they stood in front of fourteen-eighty-three. Ted took one side of the door as Drake put himself on the other and knocked. They both tensed at the sound of a baby’s wail from inside. “Que?” A young woman with a weary face cracked the door as far as the security chain would allow. She cradled the crying infant in her arms as she stared out at them with eyes that went wide in instant recognition, even before Ted reached for his badge.
Drake grabbed Ted’s arm as he saw the sudden flash of terror flash over the woman’s face. With a glance back over her shoulder, she pressed a finger to her lips. “Hola, Ricky.” She spoke a quick stream of Spanish in which Drake caught just enough that to understand she was asking if “Ricky’s” mother needed help again. Her eyes warned them to remain quiet as she spoke over her shoulder in rapid-fire Spanish. Again Drake’s limited Spanish allowed him to understand enough to know that she was telling someone that she was going to help “Ricky’s” mother and that she would be back soon. They heard a dismissive grunt from inside over the blare of a football game. She unlocked the chain and opened the door just enough to slip out.
Closing the door tightly behind her, she waved them to follow her, all the while chattering softly to “Ricky” and cooing to the settling baby. She led them back down the hall to the landing, safely out of earshot of the apartment. “Gracias, officers.” She said quietly, warily keeping one eye on the door of the apartment she had just emerged from. Her voice was pleasant and lightly accented. “You come for Manuel, no? What did he do now?”
Ted glanced back the way they had come and kept his voice low as he responded. “Manuel Rodriguez is wanted for questioning in the shooting of a police officer and in connection to a string of bank robberies.”
Her rich brown eyes were weary. “Somehow, I thought as much. Manny does many things that are illegal, senors. He comes home the other night smelling of burnt things, and the next day, I hear of an explosion and the shooting of a police officer. He is not worried, but I know he is-what is the word-overconfident.” There was something in her voice that spoke of more than that; of the foolhardy pride of someone who thought they could not be caught. “He thinks I do not know of all the bad things he had done. But I know. I could not leave him, not yet. I had to protect Theo and little Nita.” She brushed a finger over the baby’s cheek. “Tell me, is Theo safe?”
Drake sighed. “He’s in lock-up down at the station. For the moment, he’s only an unwitting accomplice-after the fact-but still an accomplice. He has a record, but it’s all petty stuff. Now we’ve got him on evading and reckless endangerment, as well. But he did point us to Manny.”
“Si.” She sighed. “I understand. I have done my best to keep him safe and out of trouble. Perhaps some time in jail will scare him straight, no? He is still young. There is still time to make sure he does not turn out like his brother.”
There was such genuine concern in her caring eyes; Drake found himself offering her a little nugget of hope. “If we talk to the DA, and prove that Theo willingly gave us Manny, we might be able to get him a reduced sentence.”
She offered him a weary but grateful smile. “Gracias. That would be very nice of you.”
Ted grunted, glancing back at the door. “Is he armed in there? Any other exits?”
Drake nodded, adding, “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
“Manny is always armed.” She told them frankly. “He has a Beretta always with him and a smaller gun in an ankle holster. There is a shotgun under the couch and many places he has ammunition hidden. I am only grateful that Nita is not crawling yet.”
Drake winced at the thought of the baby getting into a stash of ammo.
She cocked her head to the side. “There is a fire escape in the bedroom, but the window has been painted shut so many times, I do not think you can get to it without breaking the glass. As for me, I think I will take refuge with the real Ricky and his mother downstairs.” This time her grin was real and far less weary. “Senora Cruz is crippled and she needs much help with the laundry and shopping. I help her so much, Manny, he does not think twice when I go.”
Drake smiled, approving of the way this little slip of a girl had done her level best to keep others safe in an untenable situation. “Clever lady.”
“I am Rosa, senor.” She held out a single key on a pink keychain that read, ‘Cancel my subscription, cause I don’t need your issues.’ “Here. This might let you surprise him. He will not think so much of my returning so soon until it is too late.” Her smile this time was self-depreciating. “He does not think much of me at all.”
Ted snorted. “Then he’s not very smart, is he?”
Her smile made all the others she had given them pale in comparison, and Ted and Drake both blushed. She leaned forward and gave both of them an impish kiss on the cheek before pelting lightly down the stairs. Ted looked after her in awe. “Man, that guy is an idiot for not seeing what’s right in front of him.”
Drake nodded in complete agreement. Then he shook himself and glanced over at Ted. “How do you want to play this?”
Ted growled low under his breath as he dragged his attention back to the work at hand. “Carefully. I don’t want to end up perforated.”
The memory of Ryo lying pale and still in a hospital bed was foremost in both their minds. Drake snorted to chase away the lingering fear. “As least Dee’s not here. That idiot would go in, guns blazing.”
Ted chuckled with an uncomfortable shrug. “Ah, well, you know he’s bound to go crazy when something happens to someone he cares about. And, y’know, with it being Ryo…”
“Yeah.” Drake shrugged the memory away and reached for his two-way. “If we’re going in there, I want backup on the way before we even open the door.”
“I’m not arguing, buddy.” Ted pulled his gun and checked the clip as Drake called for backup to be ready.
It was right about then that thing went to hell. A teenage bolted past them without a second look and pounded on the door of apartment fourteen-eighty-three. “Manny! Manny! It’s Carlos! Let me in!” He continued shouting to be let in the door in a mix of English and Spanish.
Ted cursed softly. “I know that little sneak! He hangs around the newsstand across from the station. He must know we have Theo!”
“Hell!” Drake pulled his gun and they both dashed to the door just as it opened beneath the teen’s pounding fist.
“Freeze!” Ted shouted. “Nobody move!”
Manny Rodriguez loomed in the door, five-foot-nine of bad attitude and beer breath. He had a Beretta in his hand. “You little shit-fuck! You let the cops follow you here?!” Without another word, he shot the stunned Carlos twice, once in the face and once in the chest.
“Drop the gun!” Drake roared, ducking, as the teenager collapsed in a bloody, twitching heap. Ted dove aside as the response to the demand was another shot and a stream of particularly vituperative Spanish. “Rodriguez, drop the damned gun!”
Manny’s grin was more than half-insane as he turned and bolted back into the apartment, not even bothering to slam the door behind him. Ted eased to the door, jerking back as a wildly-aimed shot ricocheted off the doorframe. Drake reached the teenager sprawled in the hall and pressed his fingers to the bloodied skin of his throat, already knowing it was far too late for him. “Dead.”
Ted eased an eye against the gap where the door met the frame. “No movement.” He reported.
Drake heaved himself back to his feet. “Lets get this prick.”
The sound of shattering glass drew their attention back to the apartment. “Shit! He’s going for the fire escape!”
Favoring speed over caution, they worked their way to the bedroom. A shot shattered the drywall by Ted’s head and he yelped, firing blindly back. Drake couldn’t believe his ears as a pained roar followed by the clatter of a gun falling to the floor came from the bedroom. He dared to risk a look around the doorframe. Rodriguez was panting harshly as he squeezed his bulk through the shattered window. He clutched his right shoulder as blood stained his gray t-shirt a dark crimson.
“Freeze!”
He bared his teeth in a bloody grin as he managed to drag himself through the tiny window, oblivious to the remains of the glass slicing through his nut-brown skin. He cursed them in a mixture of Spanish and English as he kicked aside the lamp he must have used to shatter the glass. Drake saw it happen. The cord of the lamp caught Rodriguez’s ankle and he staggered backward, reeling into the rusted railing. The metal groaned and gave way.
For the first time, there was fear in the big man’s eyes as he teetered wildly over the fourteen-story drop. He went over, bloody hands clawing frantically for purchase on the remainder of the railing. His left hand, covered in gore, slipped, but his right hand snagged the edge of the fire escape.
Drake squeezed through the window, ignoring the way the shards of glass sliced his jacket and the flesh beneath. Ted was right behind him as Drake grabbed for Rodriguez’s bloody wrist, struggling to hold the brawny man up. “Shit! Hold on!”
Rodriguez looked up into his eyes for a long moment. Then a feral look flashed across his face and his gory left hand shot up to close on Drake’s collar. He gave Drake a fey grin and deliberately let go of the railing…
Cue Dramatic music-
To Be Continued…
*Hiccups mournfully* That was evil, Subu-chan!
See Chapter one for full disclaimers-all of which still apply.
A/N What’s to say? Things are coming to a head. And Catti? *Forced grin* Akita hasn’t slept or stopped bouncing off the walls in four days. Hope you’re happy.
Drake pressed the end button with a vaguely unsatisfied feeling. I know he’s upset that he can’t come along on this collar, but what was that? JJ’s not usually so twitchy about arrests.
He caught Ted’s odd look as he pulled out into the traffic. “What?”
Ted shook his head, but his expression remained unsettled. “Nothing, man. Just promise me we’re going to go to Kellie’s for that drink when this is all over.”
Drake shot him a sideways glance. “Sure. What brought that on?”
Ted finger-combed his spiky red hair. “I was just thinking that we all need to unwind a little. Maybe a few beers, a game of pool, or something.”
Drake shook his head. “Sounds good, but we need to concentrate on bagging our boy, Manny, first.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” Ted slumped back in his seat and remained silent as Drake drove.
First JJ and now Ted. What the hell’s with everyone tonight? Drake sighed and concentrated on his driving, giving his poor abused brain a rest.
Ten minutes later, they were in a less than savory section of the city-not quite the ghetto, but not far from it. Both of them kept alert as they started passing buildings tagged with gang colors. Thankfully, there were no signs of impending trouble. Drake was relieved when they made it to a row of sagging apartment buildings, packed so closely together it looked like they were holding each other up. Ted also breathed a small sigh of relief. “Don’t like this place. Reminds me of the first neighborhood I was assigned to patrol as a rookie. Wound up in the middle of an all-out turf war.”
Drake nodded shortly as he scanned the worn and rusting numbers on the buildings. “Yeah, been there too. There!” He stabbed a finger at the dilapidated cement façade of a building. “That’s our address.”
Ted nodded shortly and picked up the radio, requesting that backup be on standby. It was a wise precaution. It was all too easy for things to go to hell in a handbasket. Hands on their weapons, Ted and Drake emerged from the car. Up fourteen flights of grimy metal stairs, they stood in front of fourteen-eighty-three. Ted took one side of the door as Drake put himself on the other and knocked. They both tensed at the sound of a baby’s wail from inside. “Que?” A young woman with a weary face cracked the door as far as the security chain would allow. She cradled the crying infant in her arms as she stared out at them with eyes that went wide in instant recognition, even before Ted reached for his badge.
Drake grabbed Ted’s arm as he saw the sudden flash of terror flash over the woman’s face. With a glance back over her shoulder, she pressed a finger to her lips. “Hola, Ricky.” She spoke a quick stream of Spanish in which Drake caught just enough that to understand she was asking if “Ricky’s” mother needed help again. Her eyes warned them to remain quiet as she spoke over her shoulder in rapid-fire Spanish. Again Drake’s limited Spanish allowed him to understand enough to know that she was telling someone that she was going to help “Ricky’s” mother and that she would be back soon. They heard a dismissive grunt from inside over the blare of a football game. She unlocked the chain and opened the door just enough to slip out.
Closing the door tightly behind her, she waved them to follow her, all the while chattering softly to “Ricky” and cooing to the settling baby. She led them back down the hall to the landing, safely out of earshot of the apartment. “Gracias, officers.” She said quietly, warily keeping one eye on the door of the apartment she had just emerged from. Her voice was pleasant and lightly accented. “You come for Manuel, no? What did he do now?”
Ted glanced back the way they had come and kept his voice low as he responded. “Manuel Rodriguez is wanted for questioning in the shooting of a police officer and in connection to a string of bank robberies.”
Her rich brown eyes were weary. “Somehow, I thought as much. Manny does many things that are illegal, senors. He comes home the other night smelling of burnt things, and the next day, I hear of an explosion and the shooting of a police officer. He is not worried, but I know he is-what is the word-overconfident.” There was something in her voice that spoke of more than that; of the foolhardy pride of someone who thought they could not be caught. “He thinks I do not know of all the bad things he had done. But I know. I could not leave him, not yet. I had to protect Theo and little Nita.” She brushed a finger over the baby’s cheek. “Tell me, is Theo safe?”
Drake sighed. “He’s in lock-up down at the station. For the moment, he’s only an unwitting accomplice-after the fact-but still an accomplice. He has a record, but it’s all petty stuff. Now we’ve got him on evading and reckless endangerment, as well. But he did point us to Manny.”
“Si.” She sighed. “I understand. I have done my best to keep him safe and out of trouble. Perhaps some time in jail will scare him straight, no? He is still young. There is still time to make sure he does not turn out like his brother.”
There was such genuine concern in her caring eyes; Drake found himself offering her a little nugget of hope. “If we talk to the DA, and prove that Theo willingly gave us Manny, we might be able to get him a reduced sentence.”
She offered him a weary but grateful smile. “Gracias. That would be very nice of you.”
Ted grunted, glancing back at the door. “Is he armed in there? Any other exits?”
Drake nodded, adding, “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
“Manny is always armed.” She told them frankly. “He has a Beretta always with him and a smaller gun in an ankle holster. There is a shotgun under the couch and many places he has ammunition hidden. I am only grateful that Nita is not crawling yet.”
Drake winced at the thought of the baby getting into a stash of ammo.
She cocked her head to the side. “There is a fire escape in the bedroom, but the window has been painted shut so many times, I do not think you can get to it without breaking the glass. As for me, I think I will take refuge with the real Ricky and his mother downstairs.” This time her grin was real and far less weary. “Senora Cruz is crippled and she needs much help with the laundry and shopping. I help her so much, Manny, he does not think twice when I go.”
Drake smiled, approving of the way this little slip of a girl had done her level best to keep others safe in an untenable situation. “Clever lady.”
“I am Rosa, senor.” She held out a single key on a pink keychain that read, ‘Cancel my subscription, cause I don’t need your issues.’ “Here. This might let you surprise him. He will not think so much of my returning so soon until it is too late.” Her smile this time was self-depreciating. “He does not think much of me at all.”
Ted snorted. “Then he’s not very smart, is he?”
Her smile made all the others she had given them pale in comparison, and Ted and Drake both blushed. She leaned forward and gave both of them an impish kiss on the cheek before pelting lightly down the stairs. Ted looked after her in awe. “Man, that guy is an idiot for not seeing what’s right in front of him.”
Drake nodded in complete agreement. Then he shook himself and glanced over at Ted. “How do you want to play this?”
Ted growled low under his breath as he dragged his attention back to the work at hand. “Carefully. I don’t want to end up perforated.”
The memory of Ryo lying pale and still in a hospital bed was foremost in both their minds. Drake snorted to chase away the lingering fear. “As least Dee’s not here. That idiot would go in, guns blazing.”
Ted chuckled with an uncomfortable shrug. “Ah, well, you know he’s bound to go crazy when something happens to someone he cares about. And, y’know, with it being Ryo…”
“Yeah.” Drake shrugged the memory away and reached for his two-way. “If we’re going in there, I want backup on the way before we even open the door.”
“I’m not arguing, buddy.” Ted pulled his gun and checked the clip as Drake called for backup to be ready.
It was right about then that thing went to hell. A teenage bolted past them without a second look and pounded on the door of apartment fourteen-eighty-three. “Manny! Manny! It’s Carlos! Let me in!” He continued shouting to be let in the door in a mix of English and Spanish.
Ted cursed softly. “I know that little sneak! He hangs around the newsstand across from the station. He must know we have Theo!”
“Hell!” Drake pulled his gun and they both dashed to the door just as it opened beneath the teen’s pounding fist.
“Freeze!” Ted shouted. “Nobody move!”
Manny Rodriguez loomed in the door, five-foot-nine of bad attitude and beer breath. He had a Beretta in his hand. “You little shit-fuck! You let the cops follow you here?!” Without another word, he shot the stunned Carlos twice, once in the face and once in the chest.
“Drop the gun!” Drake roared, ducking, as the teenager collapsed in a bloody, twitching heap. Ted dove aside as the response to the demand was another shot and a stream of particularly vituperative Spanish. “Rodriguez, drop the damned gun!”
Manny’s grin was more than half-insane as he turned and bolted back into the apartment, not even bothering to slam the door behind him. Ted eased to the door, jerking back as a wildly-aimed shot ricocheted off the doorframe. Drake reached the teenager sprawled in the hall and pressed his fingers to the bloodied skin of his throat, already knowing it was far too late for him. “Dead.”
Ted eased an eye against the gap where the door met the frame. “No movement.” He reported.
Drake heaved himself back to his feet. “Lets get this prick.”
The sound of shattering glass drew their attention back to the apartment. “Shit! He’s going for the fire escape!”
Favoring speed over caution, they worked their way to the bedroom. A shot shattered the drywall by Ted’s head and he yelped, firing blindly back. Drake couldn’t believe his ears as a pained roar followed by the clatter of a gun falling to the floor came from the bedroom. He dared to risk a look around the doorframe. Rodriguez was panting harshly as he squeezed his bulk through the shattered window. He clutched his right shoulder as blood stained his gray t-shirt a dark crimson.
“Freeze!”
He bared his teeth in a bloody grin as he managed to drag himself through the tiny window, oblivious to the remains of the glass slicing through his nut-brown skin. He cursed them in a mixture of Spanish and English as he kicked aside the lamp he must have used to shatter the glass. Drake saw it happen. The cord of the lamp caught Rodriguez’s ankle and he staggered backward, reeling into the rusted railing. The metal groaned and gave way.
For the first time, there was fear in the big man’s eyes as he teetered wildly over the fourteen-story drop. He went over, bloody hands clawing frantically for purchase on the remainder of the railing. His left hand, covered in gore, slipped, but his right hand snagged the edge of the fire escape.
Drake squeezed through the window, ignoring the way the shards of glass sliced his jacket and the flesh beneath. Ted was right behind him as Drake grabbed for Rodriguez’s bloody wrist, struggling to hold the brawny man up. “Shit! Hold on!”
Rodriguez looked up into his eyes for a long moment. Then a feral look flashed across his face and his gory left hand shot up to close on Drake’s collar. He gave Drake a fey grin and deliberately let go of the railing…
Cue Dramatic music-
To Be Continued…
*Hiccups mournfully* That was evil, Subu-chan!