Message-ID: <18090eli$9812180449@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/18090.txt> From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: Tales of the Season: Darla's Story (TG) 4 of 6 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tigger@alices.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <367cb0a2.12092703@news.erols.com> Tales of the Season - Darla's Story by Tigger copyright 1998, all rights reserved. Part 4: Interlude: >>One Oscar Romeo, LoJak detection. Suspect stolen vehicle has stopped at corner of First and Church. Has not moved in almost five minutes. All night liquor store in that area.<< The fifteen year veteran of the Danville PD picked up the microphone. "One Oscar Romeo, Roger. We are approaching that location. Sirens and Lights off. Request backup do the same. Over." "Roger One Oscar Romeo. Two Oscar Romeo and duty sergeant en route your location. Will advise them of covert approach. Over." "One Oscar Romeo - Out." The cop looked over at his partner, a rookie fresh out of the academy and sighed. This would be her first liquor store. "Okay, Watson." he still had to smile over that name - as if he was Sherlock Holmes. "Let's talk about how we are going to handle this." ~-------------~ Second Interlude: Harold Smith was feeling pretty good about himself. Better than good - he felt terrific. What more could a man need out of life he thought to himself as he took another healthy swallow of Johnny Walker Black. Good booze, money in his pocket and someone who was afraid of you. Harold looked at the shuddering shop keeper whose own eyes were fixed on the large black handgun in Harold's meaty fist. He could see the man's terror, could smell his fear and that was power! What more did a man need, indeed? Then Harold recalled the reason for this cross country jaunt. He didn't have his bitch. Somehow, that little pipsqueak had beaten the rap. He didn't get his scrawny ass sent to prison and there hadn't been any report of the trial in the papers. That had bothered Harold because the kid was supposedly going to be tried as an adult which meant that the jury trial proceedings would not be sealed. A midnight trip to the public defender's office hadn't been very helpful. The little punk lawyer he'd caught in there hadn't been able to tell him what happened, except that things like that happened from time to time, particularly when that cunt judge was handling cases. Too bad about the lawyer, but he'd seen Harold's face. He'd had a right cute fuckable little ass on him before Harold had blown it away for him. Well, soon enough he'd have his own private piece back in his possession. The court reporter hadn't seen his face, but she'd seen Maggie, his bad assed gun well enough. She'd told him about this Thompson bitch and her mini-reform school. Harold hadn't killed her, but they'd be a long time finding her in that boarded up shack he'd left her tied up in. Maybe she'd live, he mused, but that made no never mind to Harold Smith. In a couple of hours, he'd be in that Kingston burg and he'd just take back what was rightfully his. Or else the little bitch was going to die right along side anyone else who got in his way. "Come on, mac." he said silkily as he fanned the handful of bills under the store ownner's nose. "I know there's more money than this around here. If I don't have at least five hundred in my hands in thirty seconds, you won't ever have to worry about being robbed again." Harold waved the forty four magnum in front of the man's face. "Understand?" "Yes sir!" the man all but squealed. I'll get it, just don't shoot me." The man went down on his knees behind the counter and Harold took another pull on the open whiskey bottle. Once he saw the cash, he'd take this sucker out and be on his way in style. Stupid of people to have such nice cars and not put alarms in them - not that it would have stopped him. Harold had been disabling car alarms since he'd been eleven years old. ~-----------~ Third Interlude: One Oscar Romeo was parked just down the darkened street from the liquor store. "I am going to approach, Watson. I want you to cover me. He's been in there too long. We can't wait for the backup any longer. We have to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. And Watson?" "Yes sir?" the young voice cracked from the tension. "Don't shoot unless it is to protect the civilian or me, and then be damned sure of your target. Got that?" She swallowed hard and nodded. This one was going to be a good cop, he thought again. Nodding his approval, the veteran cop drew out his service weapon and began making his way toward the storefront, keeping in the shadows, all the while praying that this time he wouldn't be too late. ~-------------~ Fourth and Final Interlude: <<BOOM!>> <<BOOM!>> <<CRACK>> Even before the large body crashed through the storefront window, the cop had recognized the sound. A double barrel shotgun had unloaded both barrels and a heavy caliber weapon had returned fire. He was running now. His streetwise eye told him that the bleeding mess on the street was no longer alive so he raced into the shop to find the clerk on his back unconscious, bleeding from a three inch long gouge in his scalp, right above the temple. The sawed off double barrel shotgun was still clutched in his hands. Sirens sounded nearby and soon, two other cruisers were outside, blocking off the street. Watson had done the right thing, he thought, calling in shots fired and requesting immediate backup. She'd kept her head when the bullets started flying which meant she just might make a good cop. The sergeant was first on the scene. "I've called for an ambulance, Allyn." he said in a tight voice. "But whoever that is outside is not going to need it." Officer Allyn stood. "This one does although I think it probably looks worse than it is." "Thank god for those auto tracking systems." the sergeant said quietly. "You would never have been here without it." "I did nothing, Sarge." "That one may live because you were here and you know it." "If you say so, Sarge. Hey, where's Watson?" The sergeant smirked. "In the alley losing her last three meals. Your bad guy is about cut in half. She took one look and turned green." "Hey, don't pick on my partner, Sarge. She did good tonight and I seem to recall you telling me that you puked your guts out the first time you saw a shotgun victim. You told me that when I had done it myself." "Forensics will be here in a few minutes. Looks pretty cut and dried to me. Must be someone new. I don't recall ever seeing that guy working around here before." "The lab boys will know soon enough. I just hope homicide gets here and takes over soon. I need to get Watson out of here." The older man nodded his agreement and Allyn made his way out of the store in search of his partner. She'd be in need of a little praise just now and she'd definitely earned it. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>