Thread: The Fast and the Fucked (Closed for Forever Unbreakable)

Syl glanced at his cell phone in mild annoyance. He was currently filling out twenty different reports and reviewing about a hundred more as the arrests continued to pour into the holding area at one of the local gymnasiums that they were using. Everyone had to be sorted, and the low life's had to be sorted through. The ones with drugs or guns were charged, and then interviewed to see if they knew anything that could get them a reduced sentence and give the force a crack at one of the bosses. Others without charges or paraphernalia were simply released. Also on the docket were about fifty cars that were all being impounded. Even with all of it though, Syl's mind kept flashing back to the three officers that had threatened to rape Angel. There was nothing he could do about it, they would just say they were threatening her because of what she had done to Mack. At worst one of the cops might get some counseling. Filling out three more reports just didn't seem worth it. Finally his brain registered that the text was from Angel. He read it hurriedly, and worry crossed his face. Immediately he jumped from his chair, flung his jacket over his shoulder holster and called, Sarge! Get two units to follow me, tell'em to step on it pronto! I'll meet'em at fiftieth and Easton road! Syl slipped into his ride from the race, it was still fully gassed and though out of nitro he could beat the patrol cars to Angel's location by at least five minutes in this baby. A squeal of his tires and the smell of burning rubber was all he left in his wake as he tore out of the parking lot headed for the hideout. Syl arrived much more quietly then he'd left, cruising to a stop two blocks from the spot and slipping out of the car. He approached with his gun in his hand, and knocked on the door loudly. Police! Open up! He figured at this point Angel was already getting beat or raped. It didn't matter who else found out about him being an undercover. Besides it was dark and nobody would recognize him. Since there wasn't any answer he kicked the door in and clicked on his flashlight. As he made his way through the warehouse of some sort he checked his flanks constantly, but it was hard with all the crates and boxes. Finally on one corner he forgot to check and that was where the attack came from. He heard a rush of wind, and managed to lean away from the blow, but it still stunned him and he was unable to raise his gun before a blow from the other side of the darkness cracked his wrist and released his grasp on the iron. From then on out everything was pretty funny, blows rained from every side. Feet, fists, and knees crashed into his body from every direction. The last thing he remembered was a soft little voice, maybe even Angel's whispering in his ear as sirens approached. I can take care of myself, you fucking cop! Several months later Syl was back in the office. His face had been plastered everywhere after the mostly successful raid, and once the Captain had learned that the bosses knew his face the man wouldn't even think of putting him back on the street. Not even in a uniformed car, and he could forget about undercover work for a long, long time. It was fucked up. Syl had taken all of his vacation time and tried to get transfers to other cities, other units, and other departments. But there was nothing out there, nothing that he could do. All he knew how to do after spending so long in the underground was... Well... Be in the underground. It was so fucked up, he couldn't even write a report anymore. Not after breaking both his wrists, several fingers, and most of his ribs. At least his face was still pretty. Not like it really helped, he didn't feel like fucking any of the pretty nurses or well wishers while he was laid up in the hospital. He only had thoughts for Angel. That little teenage brat. He was going to fuck her up good. Even though the Captain had him back in the office he did get his badge, and his gun back. That was all he needed to go looking for that little cunt. And he knew the only place he'd find her was the underground. It had taken him most of his vacation time, and quite a bit of his savings, not to mention a few favors to get his ride out of the impound lot. But he'd managed to do that, and after painting it and souping it up a bit more he was back on the street. Not undercover for the city anymore, but undercover for himself. Syl hit up every street race and every drug run he could possibly get his ears onto... Always looking for that tight ass and innocent little face. God he wanted it bad. He was going to do exactly what he stopped those cops from doing, and more.