A DARK GREEN CAMARO DROVE FAST in the street with four shemales L.A. Chicano's gangbangers inside it. Hernando was seated at the backseat with his henchman Tito — with two large duffel bags of stolen coke from the Russian gangland, The Oligarch Daughters of America.
His gun-for-hire gang had ambushed and killed two dozen, Blacks gang members yesterday, who had mulled the drugs from New York City that was supposed to be distributed in the west coast market.
The edgy driver was Perez, and with him was Santos in the front passenger seat with a laptop — Hispanic gangster-rap music played out, Perez turned down the volume — looking back into the rear-view mirror...
"That black Dodge Nitro — two cars behind — it has been on our tail for the past 10 minutes — check it out, Ese!"
Santos utilized his laptop and clicked the keyboards — a micro spy-camera on the back windshield of Camaro was activated, with its prodding zoom lens snapped a photo. Santos got a fuzzy image on his computer screen, and the blurry image rendered the three passengers in the Dodge — Santos recognized one of them...
"Hernando, that is Agent Renee Osborne — the DEA is tailing us!"
Hernando punched the backseat before he peered at the rear wind-shield, cursing in Spanish, "Motherfuckers! Santos quick, shoot a 'kite' to alert our people to get the families out now — they are all sitting ducks out there in that warehouse!"
*
Somewhere outside the city, Roberta conducted a stakeout in a stalled Ford on the shoulder of the road with two other Strike-force female cops — Corporal Jamie was at the driver's seat and rookie Billie was on surveillance in the back seat — keeping a lookout in a field-glass at the freeway's flowing traffic for Hernando's LA Chicanos' entry.
Roberta was still pissed that some of her best paymasters were dead with their black decomposed heads found floating in the bathtub yesterday morning. She now had to find another pecuniary source to get back for the loss.
There were lots of ways to make money in the streets — the safest way, Roberta had lucre well was by 'looking away from the other side' since her days as a beat-cop — in return, the Blacks in Ohio had remunerated her handsomely over the years — but it all ended yesterday when the Latinos killed her golden goose...
She scoffed and vented aloud of her random thoughts to her partners-in-crime...
"Fuck us all, we have to now play second fiddle to Osborne and her DEA cunts on our own turf — Hernando was clearly the spic-fuck Chicano who came into our backyard and sliced up those Niggers Oxen and B.B. He should not get away this easily, certainly not in my city!"
"Hey Sarge, mind if I ask — who is this C.I. you are speaking of?" asked Jamie.
Roberta was tightlipped...
It was best not to speak of her name in front of her 'guy'— of the shadow known in her circle as Mister Clarkey — a Mulatto who hated the Blacks...
Roberta first heard of her, was when her beat partner — the late Manny Thompson — mentioned that she graduated with Clarkey at the police academy — and now Clarkey had become a small-time drug-dealer ever since she retired.
Mister Clarkey was a CPD's ex-Strike force team member during the pre-Medusa times, wherein her last working-case, some male Black gangbangers planting an IED on a car, with a tied-up hostage inside. During the daring rescue, an explosion resulted — where Mister Clarkey's right-hand fingers were blown off — along blinding her right eye too.
Once Clarkey left the forces on medical retirement; as pain management and treatment, she used street drugs before becoming a junkie cum dealer. Cops like Roberta was her loyal customers — who smoked-up occasionally with her — while on consecutive visits, Roberta was put on the waiting list for three weeks since the pre-booking date for their personal one-on-one 'insider' meeting — it was when Clarkey shared intel to her inner-circle customers with natters that she picked up from the various high profiled street gangbangers and also of addict cops alike.
Mister Clarkey was hailed as the infopreneur prophet of strategy to her circle of her police customers — by foreshadowing possibilities to the many actual happenings in Ohio. Cops bore her gifts of cash and drugs stolen from the evidence-room in exchange for her time and her Intel. Just like the two days ago info that Roberta had obtained — where the LA Chicano hired-guns would be coming to town to put up a Wild-West show — before scoring the Oligarch cocaine.
Mister Clarkey's street intel was often regarded as top-notch accurate and was added assets to the plotting of the thinking-cops in the circle, who wished to make their fast, tainted money on the side by ripping off the Black gang's criminal operations — as the Blacks, were still the Mulatto Clarkey's sworn enemies.
Any 'dirty cops' who ratted on Mister Clarkey's intel to wrong parties had ended up dead in their own mysterious accord — offed by other dirtier cops. Even the devious Roberta had occasionally sold Clarkey's leads outside the informer's knowledge to protect her Black paymasters from possible police and other Federal busts for her payout — if she was found out, she would be inexplicably dead too.
This was why Roberta was taciturn — Jamie noticed the reticent — and she asked an altered question out of her curiosity...
"Sarge, why is the Euro-blow in the market, when the Cartels were the ones monopolizing all these while?"
This was not life-threatening information that would endanger Roberta if revealed — and in fact, she heard it from Mister Clarkey too — which was rampantly happening in major cities, where 'The Oligarch Daughters of America' were behind the Russian mob that launched gun battles with local Cartels families to gain their territories. This first-hand Clarkey's foreshadow that Roberta was about to disclose was thought of like a conspiracy theory months ago in many circles — but now, the pragmatics would soon be unveiled...
"Off the record, it is the top one per cent of our Captains of Industry bitches who actually want to dominate the billion-dollar drug industry from those Cartel wetbacks. They want it to be a White Caucasian dominant business, not the spics, as it is now...
"Those Russians mobs have allied with the Black gangs in the East coast to create the street wars in cities there — too bad the shit followed back here to Ohio, that is where the Niggers like Oxen and B.B. of the Vice-Lord Nation who did not see that shit coming — and their melon heads ended up bopping in that bathtub yesterday. Fuck that, it is not even in our pay-grade to see how the drug business would end up someday, when those White Oligarch bitches and the one-percenters run their drug-deals next, in fuckin' US of A..."
Jamie lighted a smoke and offered Roberta the pack.
"Damn Sarge, it sucks big time!"
Roberta subdued and lighted up her cigarette and heard Jamie ranting updates, by changing the topic...
"You heard about the latest — that fucking DEA is the first agency that is recruiting free-male freaks as their agents?"
Billie the new guy in the strike-team at the backseat mocked and chuckled...
"What will those she-dicks do — act as K9 sniff dogs?"
Roberta was even more agitated by it...
"That is the shitty future, fellers — and soon these shemale-bastards will be in the PD forces too — and getting the top posts and all of our promotions. It has been close to six fucking years, and I am still stuck here as a Sargent."
For the past six years, Rob's dejected team of 3 had been doing leftover tasks such as the backup for the main Dafoe and Marion's Strike-force teams...
Senior Sargent Marion was now the current Strike-force's top dog investigator on Columbus; Marion worked the ranks with the current Lt. Dafoe, and they both were once uniformed patrol buddies during the days. Whereas, Roberta was the infamous beat cop who had got her partner Manny Thompson killed — and yet, the mass media advertised her as a national hero-cop with a double-promotion to the rank of Sargent...
When Roberta asked for her transfer to the Strike-Force team in the CPD, Lt. Dafoe did not particularly like her and her lack of team player efforts; so, she made Roberta a leader in a separate, newly formed team of 4 other misfits — Jamie and Billie — while the other two were the yet to be replaced members, who were deceased for drunk driving.
The APB radio alerted came on — and Jamie started the ignition — and the Ford sped off...
"ALL UNITS PLEASE RESPOND — SHOOTOUT BY 4 ESCAPING HISPANICS IN A DARK GREEN CAMERO — SUSPECTS ARE HEAVILY ARMED AND THEY ARE SHOOTING AT THE SQUAD CARS..."
The bewailed Billie spoke out.
"Hernando was supposed to take this route here — who could have distracted him?"
"It must be those gung-ho smartass DEA bitches!"
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Roberta loaded a new magazine into her Magnum...
"Okay guys, this is it — just follow my instructions and stay sharp, you all — and we will be early-birds to nail those tacos spics-asses for lunch — yes, it is our payback time!"
*
Six cars with different warlords Hispanic families from various Ohio cities waited for Hernando's arrival inside a run-down warehouse. The six leaders were either both Intersexuals and some were older, greying women who were wives of pre-Medusa deceased crime bosses.
They were chatting and yet were impatient — lots of restless scowls were heard in the enclosed depot. One restive woman voiced out with distrust to the outsider from LA...
"Is he coming or what — that fucking Hernando?"
"Patience, my dear ex-sister-in-law — Hernando is trustworthy, he will be here — by the way, how are my nieces? It's a long time since I came to town, so how is my little angel of a god-daughter — Nina?"
"Angel my ass — Nina is the most rebellious of my four — imagine this, she got her nipple pierced when she was 10, long even before she even grew her own titties! So, what is your son doing now, Sofina?"
"That stupid bum — in fact, he is a gay stupid bum! He is not at all into the family business, but he is out in Australia right now on my expense — I am paying his bills while he is blowing dicks down-under, instead of giving me more granddaughters."
An Intersexual on the phone came running over, alerting all the warlords...
"Hey everyone, Hernando is being tailed by DEA! Let's get out of here!"
Seconds later, the main doors and back exits were caved by small explosive charges — members of the DEA and e-SWAT strike-team stormed in the ambush. A voice on a loud-hailer came on distinctively...
"YOU ARE ALL SURROUNDED — NOW, LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!"
"No way, Jose!"
Sofina cried out, refusing to yield. The Latina warlord pulled out her machine gun and initiated the strike-back. All the cornered gang members followed pursuit, by shooting their way out at the surrounding enforcers.
Both sides took hits, before a section of the glass roof ceiling above smashed in — and it rained glass shards on the gang members below — live grenades next fell, and bounced on the hard floor — the explosions ripped human limbs and agglutinated the flesh bits on the ball-bearing dented metal hood of the parked warlords' vehicles.
More e-SWAT team members descended down in cable-ropes from the roof, shooting at the surviving fallen gang-bangers below...
In those three minutes blitz — all the six top-warlord family heads of Ohio appointed by the Cartel and their gangs of foot-soldier members were purged.
*
The green Camaro had its three gang members firing at the DEA's Dodge — and the Strike-force team led by Sargent Marion was rushing along with a local Columbus PD cruiser in front, to join in the hot pursuit. Perez was driving like a madman in the streets, knocking over pedestrians and cyclists like bowling pins.
Tito fired his machine gun through the shattered back wind-shield and the patrol cruiser was hit and it rolled sideways. The car that Marion was in, crashed into the wreckage — and it exploded in the crowded intersection of screaming pedestrians.
The DEA's Dodge Nitro was the only pursuer left in the inter-city chase — the enforcers head, Renee Osborne fired with her pistol outside her window. In the back-seat of the DEA's car — was a White Intersexual rookie — Agent Nicholas — who was also discharging his weapon at the escaping Camaro...
A few streets away, Roberta's Strike-force Ford sped in the opposite direction of the road, Corporal Jamie exclaimed seeing the fast approaching Camaro ahead...
"That's them! Holy dick of Jesus! They got automatics!"
Inside the Hispanic's Camaro, Hernando picked up an RPG and positioned himself out of the window — the jumpy image of the Dodge was on the weapon's scope — Hernando then framed Agent Renee Osborne — into the cross-hair...
He pulled the trigger and a shell rocketed and shattered the DEA's vehicle front. The speeding Dodge turned turtle into the side-walk by the explosion. Hernando and the Latinos were celebrating...
"Osborne, die you fucking DEA twat!"
*
Roberta was aware, that her two buddies in the car were panicking at Hernando's firepower against their department standard issued pistols and shotguns — but, she had to keep her crew tight with a plan. Billie cried out after seeing the upside down DEA's Dodges skidding in flames on the tarmac ahead...
"Holy shit, Sarge! Was that a missile they shot? Oh fuck, we are dead!"
Roberta ignored her — and turned to Jamie on the wheels...
"Jamie, keep driving — we are gonna surprise them!"
Jamie was driving the Ford straight into the fast-approaching Camaro — Jamie hated herself to be the one driving into their possible death like her late drunken team members — but, it was best to die instantly rather than ending up crippled for life, and blame it on Robert — whether the super-cop survived or not in that suicide-run.
The sole survivor, Agent Nicholas suffering from burns, crawled out of the blazing Dodge in the street. The Intersexual was bleeding all over his clothes and body-amour. The dazed and injured DEA rookie was then helped out by passing pedestrians off the burning car.
The Ford was only twenty yards coming from the opposite direction — the LA Chicanos were still celebrating — until Perez the driver was hit by Roberta's bullet in his face that shattered through the wind-shield. The Camaro skidded and slammed a lamppost — Santos who was without his seat-belt secured, crashed out of the wind-shield like a human cannonball...
The back-door opened and Hernando stepped out — dazed with minor injuries. He detected the approaching Ford. The bleeding Hernando picked up both the bulky duffel bags of his drugs and his faithful old TAS-9 — running into the backstreet...
"He is getting away!"
Roberta cried before she hopped out when the Ford pulled over. Roberta pursued the Hispanic shemale on foot...
Tito stepped out of the wrecked Camaro with a twisted broken wrist — but his good arm pointed the RPG-launcher at the two remaining Strike-force cops — Jamie and Billie nosedived away for cover — while their Ford was thumped, and it blew up high.
The two tumbling undercover cops then retaliated — and they gunned Tito down.
*
Roberta chased Hernando who ran ahead, clinging on with the heavy bags with kilos of cocaine. The injured DEA Agent Nicholas grimaced — and he saw them both entering an alley — he had just request for DEA backup from his cell phone. The injured Narc agent then joined the chase from behind...
The sole surviving L.A. Chicano gang-leader darted into a broken down abandoned shop lot at the alley. Hernando then hid behind wooden crates, and he pulled out his TAS-9 sub-machine gun — he panted, blood and sweat bled from his face — the Intersexual waited...
Roberta now entered in the rundown building — and she swept the area. The Chicano recognized her — after having heard of the dirty cop's street domination from the Ohio families.
Hernando opened fire and Roberta dived allegro for safety.
She spotted the goon was on the move again, attempting an escape towards another exit — she raised her Magnum and shot twice. Hernando slumped and slid on the floor. The shemale squealed in pain holding his bleeding shin. Roberta walked over mockingly and kicked his weapon away...
"Hernando, where do you think you are going, you punk?"
"Jensen, you cockless fucker — you fucking shot me, you cunt-hole! I thought you are on our side with the families — haven't they paid you enough in their deals?"
Roberta picked up his sub-machine gun and harangued...
"Oh yeah, you killed two dozen Niggers in my own streets and dump their heads in a bathtub of watermelon punch before you ripped away the Oligarch's coke — so why was I not paid my cut in that fucking 'five-finger discount' deal?"
She pointed the weapon at the wounded Intersexual and resumed her berating...
"You got greedy — right, you fucking spic? You and the families ignored us the middlemen — and you all acted alone by stealing coke belonging to the Russian mob — but too bad, that this job was out of your league for you and your lowlife tortilla-boys to pull — so the word had got out to the DEA about the score — and they called in for this fucking strike today — hey you bitch, I could have been your eyes and ears in this op — but too bad, you cut me off, you freak!"
Hernando had enough of her ranting — and just wanted to flee away to safety. The shemale implored while holding his bleeding foot...
"Now help me get away from here, Jensen — you take one of the bags as a bargaining chip — and I will buy the shit off your hand, once we are out of here."
Before she could take the lucrative deal, Roberta heard footsteps behind. She pointed the gun out at the arriving contused androgynous DEA agent — who was soon followed by her own team of Jamie and Billie from behind him.
Agent Nicholas held up his badge, to identify himself, to the armed Roberta...
"Whoa chill, Detective — I am Agent Nicholas, DEA. — Hernando is now under my custody. I have called in earlier — and my backups are on the way here soon."
Nicholas holstered his gun and took out his handcuffs. Hernando entreated Roberta...
"My offer still stands, Jensen — come on, take the bag and feed those mouths here — but help me get away before I fucking bleed to death."
The DEA agent looked over suspiciously. "What is he talking about? You both know each other, Jensen?" Roberta reciprocated by covering up...
"I have been a street cop for 9 years before (and of course) — lots of these trash-bags know me."
Hernando sarcastically riposted...
"Yeah, and she even gives me blow-jobs during her off-duty for handouts. Fuck you, Jensen — the DEA is coming any time now, and you are making coffee and doughnut small-talks here? Hey, you get me out of here now, you fucking cunt!"
Roberta pointed her Magnum at Hernando's head — Nicholas's eyes widened and he yelled out in aghast...
"Jensen, what are you doing? Hernando is mine!"
"Not anymore!"
Roberta shot Hernando in the crown of his head — and the appalled Agent Nicholas cried out — after seeing Hernando's head splat...
"Oh my god, what have you done? You are now under arrest, Jensen — for executing a DEA's material suspect!" Nicholas looked at the equally shocked as Jamie and Billie who stood across him — the agent now glanced obliquely again at the two cops across him...
"I have 2 eyewitnesses here, Jensen!"
Roberta chuckled.
"Me! Being under arrest? You fucking shemales don't get it, do you — that the streets and corners over here play by my rules."
The hapless rookie regretted securing his gun earlier onto his holster — and he now went for it — Roberta fired the TAS-9, killing the rookie DEA agent instantly...
"Oh-fuck! What have you done, Rob — you killed a DEA agent!"
Jamie exclaimed out.
Roberta wiped her prints off — and planted the weapon on the dead Hispanic.
"No, I did not — Hernando here, he did it."
Roberta grinned nefariously — at the fresh corpse of the federal agent sprawling motionless.
Jamie and Billie came forward when Roberta next opened one of the duffel bags — and it was packed by kilos of pure cocaine — Billie spoke up in haste...
"What do we do Sarge, take one bag and leave the other with the bodies? I feel that — it is too much dope for us to handle."
Roberta was impressed that the newcomer Billie was learning fast...
"You are right Billie, let's not get greedy — because we will have to work low-key as always — to avoid any fed's investigation on the missing Oligarch shit."
Roberta thought up an instant ruse...
"Jamie, now take out 5 packs from each bag — and Billie — you, take these and go wait for us in Chinatown...
"In the meantime, Jamie and I will get these two dead clowns' story straighten out once DEA gets here. We will then come later — and, we strike a deal with those Chink-Chongs Chinamen — and they will gladly get it off our hands."
It was an ameliorating opportunity of a big drug score, and they were back on their road to opulence — Roberta's high maintenance girlfriend's artist atelier bills will be paid and also her own sister's escalating medical bills problems will be solved — after the circumspect cocaine was been black-marketed.