In the city of Azuria, in the town of Galaxy, there were poor families living on the dark, edgy side of town, where shady deeds were common, and people with questionable behavior resided. This was because people in those areas were often neglected and bullied by the city's so-called elites. The law enforcement agencies especially the cops, were underfunded.
The so-called elites, spent funds on buying themselves customized supercars like the Bugatti La Voiture Noire, upgrading their mansions and mega-mansions, hiring private bodyguards from other cities' military forces, throwing the craziest parties and dating multiple women, buying private jets, purchasing various real estate properties, and spending lavishly on antiques at auctions held in different countries. The area also lacked infrastructure and basic amenities.
A nuclear family, who had unfortunately found themselves in that situation, lived in a rural area with their only child, David. His friends in the neighborhood called him Dave. The names of his parents were Mr. Jackal and Mrs. Sunderland. David was raised by his father, who did his best to care for him, but his efforts were not enough to meet even his basic needs. The only one taking care of David was his father, even though his mother was still very much alive. Due to the lack of support from David's mother, he was not properly taken care of. At a very young age, he had to learn to take care of himself and was able to do almost all the chores in the house. His father helped him sometimes when he came home early, but his mother didn't deserve to be called a "mother", she was a complete opposite of what anyone would call a mother. David was called names by his so-called mother who also disciplined him without reason and even hit him to the point of near death if he made mistakes. David did his best to be perfect, but he is a human being, not a robot. His father took him to his workplace which was an auto repair shop, during all holidays, that was why David knew a lot about cars and was skilled at driving even at a very young age. Otherwise, when he comes home from work, David would be half dead.
David's father was a mechanical engineer by profession who tried his very best to provide for his family, while his mother was jobless. She wanted to be a housewife, but her husband refused. After many arguments about her finding a job, Mr. Jackal finally gave up.
David and his father looked happy with the little they had even though his mother was unsupportive, they shared with others who had nothing. David and his father helped others, but his mother, Mrs. Sunderland was a lazy woman and a gold digger who always complained about the family's situation. David, seeing one of his parents doing good for others, decided to follow that positive example.
David attended a public school in their community, which was free after the people had begged the corrupt government for seven years. David did not complain about his parent's financial status, unlike other kids. But instead he helped them in whatever ways he could. In school, he was the top student in his class and made his dad proud. After he finished his final exams in elementary school, he got a scholarship to one of the best private schools in the city: Kingston high school.
When he got home that day he showed his dad his results, which were the best in the entire school. Then his teacher called from school to congratulate him and encourage him to work harder, reminding him that he had a bright future. He told his father about the scholarship that he received to the best school in the city: Kingston High School. His dad was very happy and impressed by his son's academic performance. His mother, on the other hand was not impressed. She saw it as the perfect time to break the news by asking for money. She knew he didn't have the amount she was asking for, so she used that as an excuse to ask for a divorce.
She asked her husband, "Give me money to buy clothes for a party."
Her husband immediately replied "Woman, what's wrong with you? David, your son, our son, is going to high school soon, and he will need money to buy school supplies. Isn't his education important to you? So, there's no money for any bullshit party. If you want to go to a party, get your lazy ass up and start working."
An outburst she hadn't seen in a while. It was rare for him, yet she said nothing. She didn't care. Instead, it strengthened her determination to leave. David tactfully left for the bedroom where they all sleep and laid down on the mat, he was certain that this time his parents were going to get divorced. David couldn't be happier; he wants his mom to regret her decision to marry a rich man. He had heard that children were mostly affected if their parents divorced but he was the happiest in the world. Because she deserves to feel some pain for what she had caused him and his dad. That gave him the determination to work hard. He went to bed earlier than usual so he could wake up very early the next day.
She replied, "Look on that table. The divorce papers. Sign them, I am not going to continue staying with a poor and useless man like you. My new rich husband is waiting for me, so hurry up and sign the divorce papers."
"I will only sign on one condition," he said to her. "I have full custody. You are not taking David with you." "I am not going to take on a burden and a liability anymore. I am leaving tomorrow," she said.
Mr. Jackal immediately replied, "don't you ever talk about my son in that way. He's not a burden, and he may one day save your life."
He immediately signed the divorce papers and gave them to her with a heavy heart but he got rid of that feeling instantly. David overheard his parents' argument. He was happy that his father stood up for him, but what his father said stuck with him: "He may one day save your life." His dad came to the room and tucked him in to sleep. Little did he know that a whole new chapter of his life was about to start.
At around 2:00 a.m., David's father got up from bed and stepped outside for some air because he could not sleep. The thought about the divorce between him and his wife kept him up; he was wondering how it would affect David.
His parents' marriage failed, and he grew up with a single parent, his "mum," who died while he was a teenager. He doesn't want the same for his son, but what other choice does he have? He had signed the divorce papers; besides, his wife never showed love to their child in any way, and her love for him had gone cold, so there was no point in looking back.
At that moment, he had flashbacks to when he was a little boy. The day his father, driven by greed, left his mother for her friend, who had money and a life he envied. He could not forget the smirk on their faces as they made his mother sign the divorce papers. They mocked and abused her, calling her all sorts of names. His mother loved her husband, even though he was mean and always treated her badly. But the moment they threatened to take him away, she signed the papers instantly.
A few years later, while his dad drove around with his new wife in a luxurious supercar, he and his mother were in deep poverty, and she collapsed on the floor while they were picking bottles together. His father was coincidentally driving by, and Jackal begged for help from him. Though he wanted to help, his new wife told him to leave the past behind and focus on the future with her. Then he told his son and his dying mother that he couldn't afford to let their stench of poverty into his car, because it was bad luck. He said this smirking, and gave him and his mother a disgusting look before he drove off in style. Since he couldn't get help quickly, his mother unfortunately died. He was very hurt and angry after he buried his mother. He had no one to turn to, so he made it his mission to avenge her death.
It was all his father's fault, so he went after him and his family. Because he had known about cars at a very young age so he sneaked into the highly secure estate and made a few changes to all the vehicles in the garage.
The next day, he went to the estate and knocked on the heavy gate. Surprisingly his father came to the door to see who was there. When his father appeared, he told him that his mother had died.
His father gave him an "I don't care" look. Then, his wife showed up from behind her husband and said, "What do you want us to do, kid, take you in? Nah, that's a big nope from us. Now buzz off; you were interrupting something. Go pick up trash like your dead mother, you good-for-nothing bastard."
She kicked him to the ground. He landed hard, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp intake of breath. He shot a glance at his father, but the man's face remained a mask. He wore that same stupid smirk he'd held when they made his mum sign the divorce papers. He had no regret or remorse for what he had done; the boy clenched his fist and left.
They took his silence for weakness, but boy, were they mistaken; this was the last time they would ever hear from him. After leaving the house, he stayed around the estate a little longer to watch his plan unfold.
His father, Mr. Abs, was going to the Civil Affairs Bureau to claim all assets belonging to him and his late wife, including their house. He headed for the garage and told his new wife that he would be back soon. It was then that the mayhem began.
All the keys to the four cars were kept in the garage. Wanting to get there as fast as possible, he decided to take the BMW 3 Series (E90) and grabbed the key from the lockable key safe. He unlocked the car and got in. The electronic display turned on, but the engine was dead and wouldn't crank.
He was confused and frustrated, so he got out and went to take another key from the lockable safe. Placing the BMW key in the repair section of the safe, he took the key to the Range Rover (L332).
He tried to open it, but the car refused. Frustrated, he placed the Range Rover key in the repair section of the lockable safe.
He grabbed another key from the safe and walked towards the car.
His face was filled with so much rage and frustration that you could literally see his veins, as the German Beast sat in front of him.
He inserted the key and slid into the cockpit, the leather seats clinging to him. He switched the German engine on and put it in sport mode; the engine rumbled like a Predator.
He put on his cool shades and looked over to the mirror on his left. He let go of the brakes and zoomed out of the garage. The wheels screeched on the asphalt.
He was driving at 100 km/h when a sharp turn approached. He hit the brakes, but the grip wasn't there.
His face was pale and worried, as if he had seen a ghost; his life flashed before his eyes as the car went straight and crashed into a tree.
The crushed car was upside down, lying lifeless and smoking behind the tree. Every part of the car was totaled, except for the engine, which was still hissing and steaming from the crash. He kicked the door open and fell to the ground from the supercar. As he crawled away from the smoke, the cold realization hit him: he couldn't feel his legs.
He crawled away from the destroyed car and finally rested his head at the root of a tree. Then, he brought out his phone, which had a big crack from the crash, and dialed 911. He woke up to see a woman in a paramedic's suit calling his name. "Hey! Can you hear me!" As soon as he was back to reality, he responded to the call from the medic.
As the medic helped him up, he got a call from his neighbor. Upon hearing the news, his phone fell from his hand, as he collapsed to the dirt.
Meanwhile, his wife was planning to go out, so she headed for the lockable garage safe and picked up the keys to the 2005 Cadillac Escalade ESV Platinum Edition. Since it was the only car left available in the house that was in good condition, she climbed into the Cadillac Escalade ESV Platinum.
She opened the door, but she sensed something was off as she entered the cabin. The white leather seats filled the cabin giving the perfect touch of a luxury interior; she looked towards the dashboard, while the glow of the pristine dashboard reflected in her eyes.
She was about to push the key in the ignition, when she got a call from her friends; she accepted the call from the dashboard. "What's up, girl? When are you going to get here? The party is about to start!" She replied, "I will be there in 10 minutes, girls don't worry." She pushed the key into the ignition. The dashboard didn't just shatter; it turned into a spray of liquid fire, melting the "Cadillac" emblem instantly.
Jackal grinned as the events unfolded, then a man in uniform slammed handcuffs on him. At that moment he knew he got caught, and he was happy that his plan succeeded.
Minutes later he was handed over to the police, who questioned him at the station.
An officer in his mid-30s walked into the interrogation room. Looking at the suspect, he softened his expression and gave a fake smile. "So, kid, care to explain what you were up to in the estate at the exact period tragedy befell the Cash family?"
"The Cash family, really? That's what they're called," Jackal replied with a smile.
"Look, kid, I don't think you understand what's going on here. You're the only suspect in the death of the Cash family."
The Sergeant looked directly into his eyes to find any sign of guilt, but Jackal didn't even bat an eye. He, continued.
"During that time, we got clear CCTV evidence placing you at the estate at the time of the murders." He paused, waiting for Jackal to respond, hoping he would stumble over his words in defense.
"Wait, officer, I don't get it. I just lost both my parents, and you're here trying to accuse me of their murders? This is insane! So you mean because I was at the estate at the time of the murders, you think I killed my parents? You damn cops had no idea that my biological mom died just yesterday," Jackal said, raising his voice.
"Why would you even think I would kill my parents?" he asked with pain in his eyes.
The Sergeant replied as he opened the file on the desk. "Well, the record shows that your father was a violent alcoholic and he divorced your mom to marry his fiancee. Now, my guess is that he and his mistress forced your mom to sign the divorce papers. Am I right, Jackal?"
"You're right, officer. It's almost like you were there the night it happened six years ago. But my dad, being heartless and leaving mom and me to suffer isn't enough to kill him and his family," Jackal said in a firm voice.
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing too, that this wasn't enough to end his life until I saw this." He turned his laptop around and played the feed. Jackal watched as the recording played.
"So, Jackal, how do you expect me to believe you didn't retaliate? Especially after your father and his mistress caused the last incident that led to the immediate death of your mother."
"Officer, as much as I hated that bastard and his mistress, I wouldn't kill them. Retaliation would be an understatement to what I would do to them if I could. Do you think I killed them? If you're still holding onto the fact that I was at the estate at the time of the murder, let me tell you why: I was at the estate to tell that sperm donor that my mother just died. Let me ask you this: why would I even be at the estate if I had murdered them? Wouldn't I be solidifying my alibi? Wouldn't I be taking the alleyway instead of the main street where the camera could see me?"
A heavy silence fell on the room. Both the cop and detectives in the observation room were confused as to what to believe. The cop looked past Jackal at his own reflection in the one-way mirror, fully aware that the team was watching him sweat. He was sure they were just as stunned as he was.
The Sergeant looked straight at Jackal searching for a slight weakness but nothing. Jackal held the cop's gaze, completely unblinking, his confidence was enough to make them doubt everything.
His partner from the observation room pressed the intercom button and said, "five minutes break." He got up, and the investigation was put on hold.
The Sergeant came out of the interrogation sweating, his partner met him as he was walking out.
"You got cooked in there," his partner said.
"It's not funny, but I know how to turn the tables. Confirm if what he said is true and meet me in the observation room."
Knock on the door. "Lieutenant, I got a case for you."
The Lieutenant, dressed in street clothes and looking more like a gangster than a cop, leaned back. "What do you have for me, Sergeant?"
"A double homicide on the Cash family, Lieutenant. We have one suspect in custody."
The Lieutenant got up from his seat and took out a Beretta 92FS, covered in black and red customization from his drawer. Then he and the Sergeant left for the interrogation room.
The Lieutenant entered the observation room and found out their suspect was a teenager.
"Everything the boy said is true; he has a solid alibi," the detective said.
Okay guys, let's get the party started," the lieutenant replied.
He entered the interrogation room.
"Look, dude, they have been saying a lot of things about you. They think you were involved in a double homicide of the Cash family. So be straight with me: who put you up to this? 'Cause I don't think you did it alone. Or did you?"
"Officer, this is a personal revenge against the Cash family. Even if I wanted to, I would do it alone," Jackal said, waiting for a reaction.
"I like you," the Lieutenant said. He brought out a gun and placed it close to Jackal's hand on the table. "You know what that is?"
"Beretta 92FS. Gangbangers carry it around on the street like it's a trophy."
"Now imagine if it was your father sitting exactly where I'm sitting, and you have that gun in your hand?" the Lieutenant asked.
"While wearing gloves, I would check if it was loaded. If it is, I would empty the magazine and check the chamber. Then, I'd give it to him to decide who should die," he paused.
"While he was deciding, I would lay down nylon a heavy-duty polyethylene 4 mil to 6 mil thickness on the floor. Since he would obviously choose his life over mine, I would swiftly collect the gun from him, put the first round in his forehead, then fill up the magazine and empty it into his chest. Then, I'd turn on his phone location for the loan sharks he borrowed from to find him and do as they please with him."
"Sounds like you already have a plan for him, kid, but unfortunately it didn't happen that way." The Lieutenant paused, looking Jackal straight in the eye.
"Their killer was smart, just like you. He made the attempted murder of your father look like an accident, and damn, was it clean. Even the Feds' forensics team was called in, but they found nothing. But for his wife, things got personal. Real personal. The killer cooked her, or should I say 'roasted'?" the Lieutenant said as he asked for the pictures taken from both incidents and showed them to Jackal.
"Who would do this to a human being?" Jackal asked.
"You tell me, kid. Who could carefully stage an accident as carefully as this? You know what my gut tells me? This is a vengeance mission, but the killer needed to find a diversion while he crossed every T and dotted every I, so he used you to be in the estate as cover, knowing the cops would take the bait as lazy, incompetent morons. Or maybe that's what the killer wants us to think."
"You mention the killer attempted to murder my father but failed, which means he is still alive but injured," Jackal said, maintaining eye contact with the Lieutenant.
"Ooh, that must have been a bad crash. Is he alright, though? Such a pity that his mistress wasn't as lucky. Whoever did this really, really hated both of them, and you're sure that nothing is missing from the house? It could have been a robbery plot or a deal gone sideways. What are the odds? But you're right about one thing though: cops are very lazy. The word you used perfectly described them. What was it? 'Incompetent morons'."
"Look, kid, I like you. I love that killer instinct that makes you good at whatever you do. Though, what the killer did was justifiable, the system isn't the best. In fact, it's broken. It's good kids like you that are at a disadvantage. These cops here don't understand the pain your father cost you. And your mother needs to be avenged. They're only trying to solve a case, reopening and cutting into wounds that are about to heal. So wherever the system or these cops push you, I've got your back. You call me, and we'll figure things out together, can I get you anything? A drink or a snack?" The Lieutenant asked as he gestured toward the vending machine outside."
"Nah, I'm good, thank you," Jackal replied with a faint smile.
The Lieutenant said, "cool. See you around kid," as he left the interrogation room.
"That kid isn't a killer; his mother's death forced him to do this. I have seen kids like him, kids that the system turns into the part of themselves they weren't supposed to know about. But he is different from them all; he is calculating and dangerous. He shows no remorse for his actions. You ain't getting a confession out of him. Sergeant you need to handle this case carefully and cautiously. I will leave it up to you then," the Lieutenant said as he went back into his office.
Since he was under eighteen, they couldn't put him in regular prison. As they prepared to take him to the juvenile detention center, a cop was assigned to watch him. Jackal asked the cop how long he had been on the force, noticing his long-sleeved uniform.
The cop proudly and aggressively said, "You street fool don't deserve to know."
"Okay then, this won't hurt," Jackal said. He unlocked his handcuffs and knocked the officer out.
Still in a state of shock at the hospital from the accident and from the tragic loss of his wife, Jackal's father had another bombshell dropped on him. He turned to the officer standing guard at the door and asked how far their investigation had gone.
The officer, coming in with a grim expression, said "Sir, I can't tell you much more than just that. Your son might be responsible for both tragedies."
"Which one?" he asked, strained.
The officer was completely lost. "How many sons do you have, sir?" he asked, confused.
"Don't worry about that. The aim here is to find who is trying to kill me, and we would be wasting valuable time answering questions," he replied.
"Jackal," the officer said.
He shook his head in disbelief, murmuring in his mind. *No, my Jackal wouldn't do that to me. He was a good kid.*
But then he shouted out loud just to save face, "Wow, I knew that b**** didn't train him well. Now she is dead, and he is out of control."
But then a cold realization hit him: his son, his own blood, wanted him dead. He was being hunted down by someone in his family. If there was one thing that ran in his family's blood, it was that they don't stop until they get what they want, no matter the cost.
He said to the officer, "Double the security. That boy is extremely dangerous and he will be back. He won't rest until I'm dead, so be ready to catch him when he comes."
He was still in a state of shock that his son was the cause of the unfortunate sequence of events he experienced. He breathed heavily and sighed. "His mom's death really affected him," he said in a low tone.
A nurse came in and adjusted the speed of the drip to a normal position on the IV stand. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't really notice, until he was told by the nurse that the doctor would be with him shortly, and he would soon be ready to be discharged. The nurse then left.
Two minutes later the doctor arrived, and said to him, "Sir, you are a very lucky man, to survive such a brutal crash, but the test shows that the crash hit in stages: first, the cartilage discs ruptured, leaving the vertebrae completely unshielded. The sheer force then fractured the bones directly surrounding the spinal canal, and as a result, the spinal cord was affected causing it to suffer trauma/compression. Due to delayed realization, this could lead to you becoming paralyzed. Scans show a thoracic spinal cord injury, with swelling and damage around the T6 to T9 vertebrae. Because the spinal cord is bruised or compressed, paralysis is likely, though whether it is permanent is uncertain. I assure you that we will do our best."
He replied, "Doc, how come, I didn't feel it? Surely I should have felt the pain."
"Sir, at that moment, adrenaline was high and pain was everywhere. You felt dazed or semi-conscious when you tried to move but couldn't feel it clearly. The numbness felt temporary at first…"
He interrupted the doctor, "That's impossible. Right now, I am feeling everything."
His voice faded as he endured all the pain in his body. Suddenly, he felt that his heart began to skip, and it became very difficult to breathe. He started searching for oxygen.
The doctor noticed this and immediately rushed over to check him, instantly recognizing what was happening. He grabbed Naloxone from the medical carts, quickly unwrapped it, and administered it at once.
The Narcan stabilized him a little. As the doctor called for more help, he looked at the IV stand to see if that was where the problem came from, but everything was normal, with nothing amiss.
Two nurses rushed to the room, responding to the doctor's call for help. They immediately moved him from his hospital bed to the gurney to transport him to the ICU.
Time seemed to move in slow motion as they rushed him to the ICU. Three medical personnel were shouting at the top of their lungs for everyone to move out of the way in the hallway, pushing the gurney in a hurry.
In the ICU, the doctor intubated him and connected him to a ventilator.
A nurse set a one-minute timer as the other helped the doctor lift him from the gurney to the ICU bed and connect the monitoring equipment. The doctor immediately confirmed with his team that the airway was secure, a pulse was present, blood pressure was stabilized, and the rhythm was being monitored.
After this was checked, the ECG monitor showed ventricular tachycardia. The rhythm strip flashed pulseless VT, and the nurses immediately gave him CPR while the doctor prepared the defibrillator. Sticky pads were placed on the chest, then the machine was set to 160 joules.
"Clear"
The doctor delivered the shock, and the body jerked. CPR continued as a nurse got the epinephrine from the medical cart and prepared the syringe, with the monitor still flashing a chaotic rhythm. "Push the epinephrine, now!" the doctor shouted.
The nurse immediately injected the epinephrine into the IV line. Blood surged, and for a heartbeat, hope flickered as the ventilator hissed life into his lungs. The nurse continued the CPR, but looking at the ECG monitor, the situation had worsened; it showed ventricular fibrillation (VF). The doctor set the defibrillator to 200 joules.
"Clear"
The doctor delivered the shock as the body jerked, followed by the familiar, continuous high-pitched tone. The alarm the nurse set rang. They only had one minute to save him and they failed, not because they weren't trained professionals or it was their fault, but because it was way beyond their power.
The doctor asked, "Time of death?"
One of the nurses replied, "15:09."
The doctor wrote it on the clipboard he was holding.
The nurse covered the body as they wheeled him out of the ICU. A cop walked towards them and asked for the cause of death.
"We do not know anything for now, but I have ordered the toxicology report, which should be ready in a few weeks," the doctor said as he excused himself.
"A few weeks? I'm going to lose my job by then. Please, can you influence the speed of the toxicology report? Tell them it's required for a current investigation, please, please, please," the officer asked frantically.
The doctor replied, "Wait, why not call the FBI to run the forensics? It's more detailed than a toxicology report."
"The thing is that ever since some cops wanted to wear leather jackets and ride in BMWs with a big budget and toys. It isn't easy to ask for their help in an investigation unless you know someone who calls the shots in the FBI," the officer said with a melancholy sigh.
Looking closely at the tattoo on his upper arm, the doctor asked, "Are you a Ranger?"
"No, my late brother was. We got matching tattoos when he joined the Rangers. Died saving Rangers in his Battalion and twenty injured soldiers from a platoon who were from the 3rd Battalion on their fourth tour in Afghanistan."
"Your brother was incredibly brave. Saved me and many others that day. I got your six, Brother," he said, handing him a note he had written from his clipboard.
The doctor said, "The agent who calls the shots is the guy you need to know. That's his number. Tell him I sent you, alright Brother?"
They both shook hands as the officer thanked him.
Hours later, the juvenile bus arrived to transfer Jackal to detention. The officer in charge of the transfer met a cop at the door and asked for the young offender.
"Took you guys long enough. I bet you were taking your sweet time on your way here. Right this way," the cop said.
The detention officer replied, "You are well aware that the juvenile detention facility is way out of town. It took me four hours to get here so don't give me that crap."
"Chill out, dude. I was just teasing. Anyway, he's on this block," the cop said.
As they got closer, they saw the cell doors slightly opened. Both officers immediately drew their weapons and approached the cell cautiously.
When they got there, a rookie was lying on the floor unconscious, stripped of his uniform.
The cop was frightened as he saw the officer on the floor. "My rookie." He ran closer, checked his vitals, then he shook the young officer awake.
"Mmm… where am I? Boss, what-what happened." As he looked around, trying to regain consciousness, he asked, "Where is my uniform?!"
"He got knocked out pretty badly. That kid must be strong and incredibly smart, to pull this off," the detention officer said.
The cop pulled out his radio and said, "This is officer Reed from inside the station. Juvenile offender Jackal is unaccounted for. Requesting immediate perimeter search and manhunt. Last seen in the station wearing a police uniform."
The juvenile detention officer said, "Get up, buddy. Took your training officer long enough to find out you were in trouble, and now he is in a lot of trouble."
The cop couldn't escape reality; the consequences of his actions were finally catching up to him, and now he was in lots of trouble.
It was more like he spoke too soon. As he followed his rookie to the dressing room, the captain sent for him.
"Officer Reed, as much as I would like to yell at you and ask a lot of questions about how you left your rookie on guard and he was knocked out by a juvenile offender, plus how his uniform was stolen, you need to get out there and find him," the captain said.
His screen flashed a red notification and he opened it. "Wait, why is one of the shops off radar? Officer Reed, what's your unit identifier?"
"10 Adam 7 sir," he replied.
"Officer Reed, you are in so much trouble. He didn't only steal your rookie's uniform, right? Don't even answer that, the juvenile offender you were supposed to watch now has basically all police equipment," the captain said, annoyed.
He continued, "You are leading the manhunt, and if you somehow succeed, you and your rookie will be on desk duty till I figure out what to do with you both."
Reed kept his head down as he accepted orders from the captain, preparing to leave the moment the man was done.
"Where do you think you are going?" the captain asked.
"I am heading to the control room, sir," he replied.
"Leading a manhunt from behind the screen, typical leadership, Officer Reed. Come with me," the captain said.
As they walked through the station, tension grew while cops looked at him with pity.
They soon arrived at their destination, where the captain told him to remove the custom-fit car cover.
He removed it to find a Dodge Diplomat. His anticipation was killed instantly, but it was better than nothing.
The captain hands him the key "Office Reed, take good care of it, it tells history."
He nodded in affirmation. The captain left for the control room. Seven cop cars all lined up in front of the station, waiting for orders from the leading officer. Officer Reed headed back into the station and found his rookie waiting for him by his desk.
He said to his rookie, "Officer Harrington, get the war bags, exchange my shotgun for an AR-15, a suppressor and extra ammo. Meet in the third shop up front, hurry up, Booth."
"Yes Sir," the rookie replied.
While his rookie left to get the war bags, Reed left for the dressing room.
He approached his locker; no one was around. He looked at the watch his father gave him. With sorrowful eyes he took it off and placed it in his locker, as he stared at the framed picture of his father in a Navy uniform.
Staring at the picture frame, he said, "I'm sorry, Dad. I couldn't make it into the military or the agency like the others. Even in the force, my career is about to get blown up if I don't succeed in this manhunt. Please, Dad, forgive me. I'm sorry."
Tears filled his eyes as he cried, holding his dad's picture frame. He wiped his tears, straightened himself, closed his locker, and headed for the garage.
He inserted the key and opened the door. As he slid into the driver's seat, he was surprised at the interior. It wasn't what he expected, but it would do. He started the car and drove out of the garage to the front of the station.
He was embarrassed. All of his colleagues still had their shop rides: SUVs and Hellcats, while he was driving four-decade-old police equipment.
He got out of the car. His rookie had just come out of the station with the war bags, and Reed tossed the key to him.
Harrington felt embarrassed. He tried to catch the key but failed. On his first day, he got knocked out, which led to his uniform getting stolen along with his service weapon and their shop ride. He kept his head down as he left for the trunk.
Reed addressed the team, briefing them on their target and the perimeter. Even after that quick briefing, his rookie was still holding the war bags.
"Put it in the trunk, we got to go," Reed said.
"Sir, I tried to open the trunk with the key, but it wouldn't open," the rookie replied.
"Put it in the back seat and get in, we're burning daylight," Reed said.
He was about to get in when Harper said to him, "You're really going on a man hunt in that rusting piece of metal?"
"Thanks for the reminder, Harper. Don't lose your Hellcat though, 'cause that would be hilarious," he replied.
He got in the car and led the team out for that manhunt. As he drove on the road, he could feel eyes on him.
He might have made the right call with his tactics, because as soon as they got to the last known location of the shop, a civilian told them that an officer parked the car just a short while ago. He looked in the direction the car was parked.
Reed drew out his radio. "All units, our suspect is likely on foot. Set a 5-mile radius west of Oak Street and set up checkpoints at specific coordinates, which will be sent to your box. Remember, our target is armed and extremely dangerous. Do not hesitate to pull the trigger and leave IA for me to deal with. He has taken down one officer and he can do it again, so watch your six out there."
With sirens on, the officers left for the checkpoints' coordinates. Reed cautiously approached the vehicle; he wasn't convinced their suspect would just ditch it. He got in and turned the key, but it didn't start. A glance at the fuel gauge confirmed his suspicion: an empty tank.
He got out of the vehicle and told his rookie to stay in the car and wait for his signal as he headed east on foot down the street.
Jackal was glad his plan worked. As a precaution, he had set up a decoy that would buy him more time. He took off the police uniform and changed his outfit.
"Aahhhhhh!" a voice screamed.
Reed ran to where the scream came from and was shocked to see a girl, most likely a teenager, holding her stepbrother at gunpoint while his mother screamed in horror.
He drew his gun and tried to calm the girl down. The vengeance she carried was evident; she wasn't in control anymore.
Reed said, "Look, kid, I don't know who you are or why you're doing this, but I know for certain you don't want to do this. I've been in your shoes, or something similar. Look, I've taken a life before for the sake of vengeance. At first, I felt good and happy that I avenged my partner's death. But later, I felt empty. You know why? Taking the life of the person who killed my partner wouldn't bring him back. It didn't remove the pain and hurt his death caused me.
"So before you think of pulling that trigger, think about what it would solve and the end result. A temporary adrenaline rush? Or a lifetime full of regret? The choice is yours, but so is the consequence.
"I will put my gun down, and I want you to do the same, okay?"
She nodded, looking terrified. Reed dropped his gun, but she pulled the trigger anyway. Her stepmom dived in front of her son just in time to take the bullet.
A sharp, hollow click shattered the air. Reed immediately drew his taser and stunned her. After he handcuffed her, he asked if everyone was okay, but then he caught sight of someone fleeing the scene in a hurry.
A familiar engine rumbled down the street as if pushed to its limit, stopping right at the entrance of the alley. His rookie got out of the car and took off down the alleyway after the suspect.
After getting a safe distance from Reed's position, Jackal stopped running and took cover beside a building. He was fully aware he was being tailed by the officer he had knocked out earlier, who was now coming for payback.
As soon as Harrington ran toward the edge of the alley, Jackal went full-on gangster acrobat. He launched a precise strike, sending Harrington collapsing to the ground to take his second unintentional nap of the day.
Harper drifted down the street as her 6.2-liter supercharged HEMI V8 roared, executing the turn perfectly before bringing the car to a stop right next to Reed.
Reed opened the door, shoved the girl into the car, and got in himself before using Harper's MDT to send updated coordinates to the rest of the team.
"Why was the shop that loud? No one asked for a show, and now you've alerted our suspect to our presence in the area," Reed said.
She immediately replied confidently, "It wasn't entirely my fault. You can't blame 1080hp either." Calmly, she added, "Look, you can yell at me all you want, but let's catch this dude first."
Jackal managed to lose the cops. As he looked back in relief, the low rumble intensified, growing deeper, clearer, and closer.
Suddenly, a familiar engine growled and revved hard toward him. With split-second reflexes, he dodged the hit as the car crashed into the building he had just been standing in front of.
He wanted to run, but looking back, he hesitated. Was this the life his mother would have wanted for him? Was this the life he really wanted for himself: a life on the run?
He made his way up the broken wall to the crashed car, only to see that Harrington was the driver.
With the airbag leaking, "This dude's got nine lives," he said. As he helped him out of the car to the sidewalk, he heard a faint, strained voice calling for help from the house. After laying Harrington down, he went back inside.
He followed the sound to a room in the house and pulled back the rug. Underneath were floorboards designed to swing open whenever the rug was lifted. Taking a quick peek, he saw a young boy, badly bruised and tied up, sitting against the wall.
When the kid saw him, his wounded face lit up slightly. Jackal signaled to him to stay quiet. Raising his tied hands, the kid held up five fingers, then signaled that twenty guards were nearby. Jackal nodded, gesturing that he would be back.
As soon as he left the room, cops boxed him in. Officers inside and outside all had a clear shot at him. He raised his hands slowly before Officer Reed could even start his speech: "You are under arrest..." In a flash, he grabbed the gun of the closest officer holding him at gunpoint.
"Please drop your guns or I will drop him," Jackal said.
Reed thought, If he wanted to harm anyone apart from his father and stepmother, he would have done it already. He could have escaped. Why wait until now? Something is up.
He ordered his team to lower their weapons.
"Thank you. Look, I don't want to hurt anyone, but you have to listen to me. Underneath this block is an underground basement owned by a cartel called the Black Wing. There is an entrance to the basement from the room I just came out from. There are five victims, including a kid, and twenty guards on the block underneath this house."
He paused and looked at each one of them as they stared in disbelief, before he continued.
"Look, I know I'm the last person you want to hear this from, but I'm not making this up. Some of you are in narcotics, some of you have been undercover. You know the Black Wing ain't no joke. Check if you don't believe me."
Reed said, "How do you expect us to do so when you are holding one of our officers hostage?"
Jackal replied, "You do believe me. That's why you haven't taken me out. If you give me your word you'll check it out, I will let him go."
"You have my word, kid," Reed said.
Jackal let the officer go and gave him his gun. Then he walked toward Reed.
"The room by your right. Under the rug, once you pull it, the floorboards automatically open," Jackal said.
Reed replied, "Officer Baron, take the kid and check on Harrington. Harper, with me. The rest stay alert."
Reed and Harper went to the room Jackal had described. They checked, and it turned out Jackal was right about everything. As he and Harper came out of the room, he told the team to gear up.
Two minutes later, everyone was geared up. They gathered in the house around a half-broken dining table. Harper pulled up a tablet displaying the map of the entire block as they planned their entry.
Reed moved closer to the table, pulling the team in tight. "Okay, now we've determined our entry. Thank you, Harper. We know who we're dealing with, and the Black Wing ain't no joke." He looked around the circle, zeroing in on the officers with field experience in narcotics. "Ray, Jane, Dan, what's our best chance of survival and rescuing these hostages?"
"With Black Wing? Hard and fast," Ray said. "If we hesitate, they burn the evidence and execute the hostages, or worse, use them as bargaining chips. We can't let that happen."
"I agree," Jane added. "Heavy, rapid fire is our best bet, but target discrimination has to be absolute. Knowing this cartel, they're packing military-grade hardware, and they don't mess around. We hit them hard. We can't afford a single stray bullet hitting a hostage."
Dan leaned in over the map. "I recommend we lock down the perimeter, especially the train yard. We need that entire zone completely airtight before anyone makes a move."
"Great work, everyone," Reed said. "Ray, Jane, Harper, and I will run point on the breach, with Dan handling the perimeter. Dan, you're in charge of locking down the exterior. Take four officers with you, and have Baron support your flank from his post."
"Comms go silent until things get dicey," Reed added. "Dan, you and your team call for EMS and backup if the situation turns. The target has ears everywhere, so keep comms strictly to coded bursts on short-range frequencies."
He looked over the remaining breach team. "That leaves five of us for the hit. Jane, you and one officer focus strictly on locating and securing the hostages. Ray, Harper, and I will take point on lead entry and neutralize any Black Wing members. Watch your six and be safe out there."
After five intense minutes, the team dispersed to their entry points."
Jackal sat in the back of Baron's shop, watching an officer clean a few small cuts on Harrington's hands and forehead. Once patched up, Harrington got into the car with the officer, rolling out to join Dan's team on the perimeter.
Sitting in the car on backup duty, Jackal noticed a curtain twitch open in one of the residential houses, then snap shut. He told Baron about his observation. Baron thought he was just trying to distract him or find a way to escape, but he secured Jackal's handcuff tight to the seat anyway and stepped out of the car to check it out.
Jackal had a feeling it was one of the people the cartel paid to look out for the cops, or the shooters themselves acting like civilians. He picked his handcuffs open and made his way to the front seat.
An explosion thundered from the vents below, rattling the steering wheel in his grip as heavy, rapid gunfire echoed through the floor. A man burst out of the house Baron had entered, sprinting for the street. Jackal twisted the ignition, slammed the shifter into drive, and stomped the gas. Matching the runner's stride as he pulled alongside, he threw open the driver's door, knocking him hard onto the asphalt.
Baron sprinted up, weapon raised, and Jackal shoved the suspect toward him. Beneath their feet, the muffled roar of rapid gunfire continued as the breach team systematically cleared the subterranean bunker.
Baron shoved the cuffed snitch into the back seat and slammed the door shut. Jackal slid into the front passenger side, resting his arms on the dash. Throwing the cruiser into gear, Baron sped toward the train yard where fleeing cartel members were breaking for the tracks, his eyes darting between the road ahead and Jackal's reflection in the rearview mirror.
Silence fell over the compound an hour later. Dan, Baron, and the rest of the four-man team stood among the drywall dust, breathing heavy in their gear. Eleven officers had taken down over twenty fortified cartel guards, secured the survivors, and hauled out duffel bags stuffed with fifty million in cash. The entry and rescue cops leaned against ambulances getting patched up, but every cop on the team was walking away alive.
They crammed the duffel bags of cash into the transport vehicles until the trunks barely slammed shut. Reed stepped away from the idling engines to call his sister, Tate. She was the only person on earth who wouldn't spend five minutes screaming at him before letting him speak. He dialed her number, held the phone to his ear, and listened as her line clicked open.
"Hello, sister," Reed said.
"Reed! What's up?" Tate said.
"Still tucked back home?" Reed replied.
His sister cut the call. Reed was still waiting for her to dial back when he heard the heavy click of a hammer, followed almost immediately by the cold steel of a barrel resting against the back of his head.
"Drop your weapon slowly. You got what you came here for. Why didn't you just leave, you idiot?" a cold male voice said from behind him.
The voice was cold, low, and sharpened with quiet menace: the kind of voice that made threats sound reasonable. Reed complied. As he lowered his service weapon toward the dirt, a violent bang-crack shattered the air. He spun back to find a surviving Black Wing mercenary collapsing dead, his blood beginning to pool on the floor. Reed looked up to see Jackal standing over the body, sidearm still smoking. Jackal picked up Reed's dropped weapon, handed it back, and then offered his hand to haul him up.
"Officer, I didn't mean to kill him. He was about to pull the trigger…" Jackal said, his voice shaken before Reed stepped in to calm him down.
Reed said to Jackal, "Kid, you did good. Look at me. You did nothing wrong, you saved my life. Go. I will take care of things over here. For four months, you talk to no one. I mean no contact with friends or anybody at all, including me. Now go, kid."
Harper came running, her boots skidding against the loose gravel. "Reed, are you okay? I heard a gunshot and realized you were nowhere to be found."
Looking at the body on the floor, she asked, "What do we have here?"
She took a closer look and realized that the cartel member was a cop, so she removed his badge from his jacket. She showed it to Reed. Reed stared, and inspecting it, he was shocked to realize that the badge was indeed legit. He checked the tattoo of the cartel on the man's upper arm.
Looking at the tattoo, "Reed I don't think this is an undercover cop turn Rouge. I think this is an undercover Black Wing turn cop. Reed, what do we do? We don't know how many more there are." She said standing firm.
Reed replied, "We can trust our team. That's all we need, and a little help as well."
Reed's phone started buzzing. "That's the help calling me now," he said as he picked up the call.
Looking around, "Reed, where's the kid?" Harper asked.
Reed replied, "I let him go. The kid saved my life from this rat over here, and I take full responsibility. Because even if we take him back to the station and let them know his good deed, do you think they're gonna let it slide? The kid wouldn't survive it, because the Cash family has enough money to buy a few more rats in the station to take him out. Besides, if that kid wanted us dead, we'd be dead already."
She said, "Yeah, you're right, but you're also burning your badge real hot with molten magma if you do this. Still, I'm sure you'll find a way, with this much RIP and the apprehended suspect we have in custody. So what's the game plan now?"
Reed searched the body thoroughly and found a burner phone, the suspect's phone, and a department-issued phone. "Let's catch some rats!"
When they arrived at the station, the captain was already waiting for them at the door with a big smile on his face. Officer Reed stepped out of the Hellcat in full tactical gear, carrying a fully specced-out AR-15.
"Officer Reed, well done. You wiped out an entire cartel and rescued a high-level victim, plus recovered your shop and rescued your career. My office, now!" the Captain said, as he shook hands with him.
"Great work, everyone," the Captain said as he left with Officer Reed to his office.
He slammed the door shut. "What the hell were you thinking, Officer Reed?" the Captain said angrily.
A brief pause filled the room as the Captain continued scolding Officer Reed. A gentle knock sounded at the door, and the Captain called for them to enter, showing his annoyance.
A rookie male officer stepped in and said, "Captain, we counted the grid alongside the FBI, DEA, and DHS. They arrived the moment you and Officer Reed entered the station. Plus, they told me to deliver a message."
The officer hooked both hands around the front of his duty belt, slightly lifting and shifting it from side to side to take some weight off his hips. "Sir, here is the message from the federal agents," he said. "'You couldn't even save some action for us.'"
After a brief pause, he continued, "Sir, they want to see you after you're done."
The Captain said, "Officer Jaz, is that all?"
Snapping out of his thoughts, he replied, "Yes, sir."
Still looking around the room, the rookie caught a look from the Captain that silently told him to get out.
"Yes, I better get going now." The officer left the Captain's office in a hurry.
"Officer Reed, where were we?" the Captain said.
Reed immediately replied, "Sir, I am so sorry for putting the life of my teammate in danger in an unassigned op."
"Yes, and the kid you went on a manhunt for?" the Captain asked.
"Sir, during the manhunt for Jackal, we came across a rescue op with his help. Later during the op, he saved my life from a Black Wing member turned cop. With this evidence," Reed said, placing the three phones on the desk, "we can identify and take them down."own."
The Lieutenant from earlier walked in and said, "Cap, we got a problem. I just got word on the streets that the Cash family put a prize on the kid."
Reed stepped in. "Sir, it's been handled. The kid is in hiding till the heat cools down. We got that under control. The kid is a survivor, and with his killer instinct, he will be fine."
The Lieutenant replied, "I'm counting on that, Reed. All right, I'll leave you guys to chat." The Lieutenant left the office.
"Sir, info from these phones is currently being used to identify and arrest the rats in the house," Reed said.
"Proud of you, son," the Captain said, giving him a handshake.
Both men left the office to meet their guests. "What do we have here?" the Captain said nervously.
Tate from the DHS said, "I figure you would make fun of us so I helped you to uproot the wed in your department, gathering the rest of the Black Wing."
An SUV pulled into the back garage, where all the officers had assembled. The Chief stepped out of the vehicle and walked directly toward the Captain and Officer Reed, who happened to be standing next to each other. The Chief presented Officer Reed with the Onyx card. Turning to the rest of the department, he announced additional resources, a full station upgrade, and a pay raise. The federal agents felt completely outmaneuvered as the local department was now standing shoulder to shoulder with them in terms of gear and funding.
The Chief asked curiously, "Officer Reed, if you don't mind me asking, what will you do with your Onyx card?"
"Sir, the original operation my team and I set out on was a manhunt for a teenager who was a suspect in the clever annihilation of his mean step-parents and escaped from our holding cell. That kid had the chance to wipe out my entire team, including me. He could have run when he had the chance, but he didn't. He saved my life. We didn't bring him back, and I want it to stay that way."
The Chief replied, "That's a touching story, and what a way to make use of your Onyx card. Consider it done. You still get your one chance with that card for any department you wish to control or join. The system is indeed broken. We need more people like you all to keep repairing it. Congratulations, Officer Reed."
The Chief shook his hand, as well as the hands of the Captain and the federal agents, before he left.
After a long day, the crazy shift was finally over. On the way to the car park, Harper asked Reed what he would do with his Onyx card. He told her that someday he would put it to good use.
They both heard the familiar electronic chime of the BMW echo through the parking lot. Harper spun her premium BMW M5 key ring, and the wing mirrors folded out like wings. The laser-blue headlights sliced through the dark with a cold, systematic flash.
Then she turned to him, cutting a sharp, dialed-in stare that mixed professional focus with a silent, dangerous dare. A predatory latency filled the air, making the 617 horsepower waiting under the carbon-fiber hood feel entirely normal in comparison.
Out of the shadows emerged the menacing silhouette of a BMW M8. The silence faded as a volatile crackle from its exhaust filled the air. A smirk of pure mischief spread across Reed's face. As he got into the passenger seat beside his sister, she revved the twin-turbo V8. Issuing a challenge, Harper slid into her own ride. "Challenge accepted," Tate called out before zooming out of the car park.
"Boy, she's fast," Harper said as she tailed her taillights.
They turned the highway into a race venue. After fifteen minutes, the BMW M8 pulled over at a restaurant. Seconds later, the M5 pulled over beside it, and they went inside to chat over dinner.
Four months later
For the past four months, Jackal had always kept to himself and maintained a low profile. He spent most of his time working in his mechanic garage, always avoiding trouble.
On this particular day, a local gangster named Kilnt came into his garage and asked for a repair. Jackal made his fee clear before putting his hands under the hood, but when he was done, Kilnt refused to pay.
Kilnt was about to cause trouble when the cops walked in. He had just made a huge score and was planning to flee the city when his car broke down. Sighting the cops, he got cold feet, paid Jackal more than the requested fee, and left in a hurry.
The cops walked into his garage, and Jackal offered them a seat. One of the cops said, "Looks like you have created a life for yourself. You followed instructions to the letter, and I am glad to tell you that you are officially free of any accusation regarding the death of the Cash family or the cartel. Your criminal record is clean, and you are now a free man."
Jackal replied, "That's it? No catch?"
The cop nodded in response. He offered a handshake. "Thank you, Officer."
The cop took his hand. "Almost forgot, the Lieutenant sent his greetings. Look, kid, you got a whole life ahead of you now. You can stop looking behind your back and enjoy it. Just know that no amount of money can buy even a second of time."
The female cop, leaning against his work desk, asked, "You got an air filter for my ride?"
Jackal stared at the Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat sitting in his garage driveway. "Yeah, of course. Quick question: is this the same car that was roaring down the street right after Harrington tailed me?"
"You remember that? Wow, you are actually correct, she is the one," she replied.
Jackal walked over to the shelves, searching for the heavy-duty Hellcat air filter. Once he pulled it down, he swapped out the old element, tightened the intake housing, and looked back at her. "Start it up."
She reached in through the window and hit the start button. The 6.2-liter V8 engine roared back to life with an aggressive rush of raw exhaust thunder.
Jackal smiled. "This baby is ready for a serious road trip."
"How much?" she asked.
"It's on the house," Jackal said, waving a dark, glove-clad palm at her.
She took a folded roll of bills from her pocket and placed it on his workbench anyway. "I pay my tab, Jackal."
"Kid, we ain't gonna be available for a while. We got new assignments in another city. So you stay out of trouble, alright? At least till I get back, but that doesn't mean you should let people take advantage of you," the cop said as he got in the car with his partner.
"Got it. Understood. Take care, guys. Best of luck on your new assignment, and try not to get shot," Jackal said.
After the cops left, Jackal closed up early for the day and headed home to his apartment. He was about to unlock his door when he saw her. He had always been too shy to talk to her, a girl named Stacy, but today he finally gathered the courage to speak. Surprisingly, it went well, and the two of them started talking.
He walked her to her apartment door, lingering long enough to get her number. They have been friends ever since.
The next few months went well for Jackal. His job provided a stable income, and he and Stacy were getting closer. Months later, they decided to get married. Love made him blind to her greed and ambition.
Back in reality, standing outside at midnight, he remembered believing he was going to live happily ever after. But fate had a different plan, forcing him to realize his marriage was down the drain.