Episode 31 Wrath (part 2/3) (Patreon)

Nicholas Armstrong

“Just where the fuck are they? She’s going to be here soon!”

Unable to tolerate Ruben’s tantrum, he headed to the rooftop to smoke. He suggested this location to Ruben when he was first recruited by the group. As a veteran detective who spent a good part of his career in the 77th, he knew cops' habits inside and out and how they think and operate. A run-down hotel right in Skid row, surrounded by homeless people and addicts, was the perfect place. Even veteran cops, desensitized to the smell of the area, always hesitated when they received reports in the area.

They were always afraid to head inside, wary of accidentally getting pricked by the many used needles that littered the surrounding area. It was safe, but the drawback was the lingering scent of piss always stuck to his clothes. The crack addicts always shit everywhere like wild animals, and he had already thrown three good pairs of shoes by accidentally stepping on them. That was one of the reasons he wanted to move the location, he wanted cleaner, calmer surroundings, and Mid-Wilshire fit the bill. Luckily, the brothers agreed with his suggestion.

He lit his cigarette and took a puff, relishing the warmth it provided. He knew why those guys were late. Ruben ordered that Routh be brought alive, but he knew how dangerous the man could be.

He gave them strict orders, shoot to kill without any hesitation as soon as they got an opportunity. They were probably disposing his body by now, leaving his wife alone, confused, and vulnerable.

His mind was filled with possibilities for the future. They never had a captain under their influence and control before, and he was eager to exploit that newfound power. Technically, Andersen was his superior, but he was the one who called the shots in the Mid-Wilshire division. Patrol routes, assigned cases, the potential was enormous. He could, in the very near future, replace Ruben if he wanted to, once he gained control of Andersen. She was the key.

He looked out at the city and enjoyed the view. At night, the shadows hid the filth and rot, and ignoring the smell, the view was relaxing to look at.

He suddenly felt a hand hold the back of his neck in a powerful grip, and he struggled to breathe as he was lifted off the ground and placed right on the ledge. His legs slipped on the narrow six-inch concrete slab.

The hand holding his neck was large enough to partially squeeze his throat, making him unable to make a noise or even breathe.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it, Detective Armstrong?”

He tensed up as he recognized the voice. The powerful grip on his neck eased just enough that he could breathe and speak. He looked down at the ground, and he realized how dangerous his situation had become.

“Fancy meeting you here, detective.” He wanted to move, but he was totally powerless and at Routh's mercy. Shit. fuck. Shit. He slowly put his hand inside his pocket, but Routh had seen him move.

His gun was on the trigger, ready to shoot, just enough to alert the others, but Routh had taken hold of the barrel with his free hand.

SNAP

With a mere twist, his fingers were painfully twisted, probably broken by the unexpected and brutal move. He moaned, an agonizing sound escaping his lips, but Routh had again tightened his grip on his neck. He was starting to lose consciousness until the grip eased once more.

“I give. I give.” He breathed out.

“Better.” Routh replied. He couldn’t see the large man behind him, but his tone of voice was so different than what he was used to. He was always calm, measured, and professional. Right now, there was a certain tightness in Routh’s voice that told him he was angry, very angry. “Try that one more time, and then you’ll be a puddle of blood and flesh on the sidewalk. I’m sure you’ve seen enough jumpers by now.”

He did, many times, and he nodded in agreement.

“You know you don’t have any way out of this.” Routh added. “I can easily drop you from the ledge or snap your neck. But Zoe, the woman you wanted to take advantage of, wants me to let you live.”

“You have two choices here detective” Routh stated. “Either you die now, or you start talking. And don’t lie, I’ll know.”

He was crying. He realized he didn’t want to die, and he knew for certain that Routh would kill him without any hesitation. This... this was the monster Rosalind talked about, but of a different kind. Jack Routh hunted people like him. Now he was caught, helpless, and about to die. He felt a warm sensation trickling down his leg, and realized he had pissed himself.

“Derian… wanted to control Andersen with the photos.” He sobbed.   

“Names.” Routh demanded. “I want names of every crooked cop under your organization.”

Without any other choice, he started naming names, even a sergeant from a different division and even one in Mid-Wilshire. He spoke about their operation, the moves he made while the majority of the division was in Hawaii, and warned their men ahead of time when raids were planned.

“Why did they kill Cole?”

“She wanted out.” He replied. “And she rejected Serj when he asked her out. She was still in love with Rios.”

“And what do they plan to do with my wife?”

He had completely surrendered at this point, but he still hesitated to answer the question. He was afraid of what might happen next if he told the truth. The tightening grip on his neck told him to answer quickly.   

“Ruben wants to enslave your wife! Treat her like a toy, like in those pictures!” He replied.

“You’re a parasite to this city, Detective Armstrong.”

He could breathe freely again as the powerful grip on his neck vanished. He turned his head and watched as Jack Routh stared at him dead in the eye. The single light bulb on the roof cast a dangerous shadow over the large man’s face. His posture was tense, as if ready to explode with overwhelming violence at any moment, and he could see how Routh’s muscles bulged as he clenched his massive fists at his side.

Under the singular focus of such a figure, he unconsciously stepped back, and slipped. The puddle of piss made the ledge slippery, and his eyes widened in horror. He slowly fell, but his eyes remained fixed on Routh, who stared at him without flinching.

He looked around, both hands trying to grasp anything to save him from falling, but it was futile. His right hand brushed something, an antenna, but his fingers had no strength to grip. Routh violently twisted the gun out of his hand that his fingers were dislocated or broken, he wasn’t sure. Fuck. This was not how it was supposed to end!

 The last thing he saw was the silhouette of the towering figure looking over the ledge of the six-story roof as he fell hard on the narrow alley beside the hotel.

Ruben Derian

WHUMPH!

He looked up from his desk at the sound he heard outside. Those damn addicts were creating a ruckus again. At this rate, some of those real-life zombies might die outside his property, and he didn’t want the police sniffing around as they investigated a body.

“Tell those addicts to get out of the alley.” He tossed a few bills of twenties. He learned the hard way that it was the quickest way to get rid of those types of people. They didn’t fear death or beatings. Their minds, long ruined by the products he distributed, only cared for the next high and nothing else. “Then get me some food.”

“Get me a burger.” Serj called out.

“Got it.”

His aide left, leaving him alone with his younger brother at his old office. He hated going back here. There were no good restaurants around, the traffic getting here was making him crazy and the constant smell of piss made him want to gag at times. The smell was horrible, and no matter how many times Armstrong assured him that this area was safe, he still wanted to relocate.

He returned to his work, analyzing the take for the week.

The door opened and he did a double take when their secondary target, the husband of the woman he was eagerly waiting walked in without a care in the world. Jack Routh was bigger in person than he expected, and he found himself straightening up in his chair to project his own power.

Weren’t his boys supposed to rough him up? The man looked unbothered and calm. He was about to speak when he noticed the gaze, and he automatically reached for his weapon.

“Don’t bother.” Routh immediately sat in the chair in front of his desk without any invitation. He made eye contact with Serj, and his younger brother quickly moved into position to the side with his gun in his hand.

Armstrong always warned him about dealing with the captain’s husband, and now he understood why the detective was so cautious. Jack Routh was dangerous, and if looks could kill, he would have been dead ten times over.

He felt like prey under the larger man’s gaze. Only the familiar feeling of his gun stopped him from panicking.

“You’ve got some balls to come in here.” It was clear his men had failed. “What happened to my men?”

“We’ve come to an arrangement.” Routh replied looking around the room.

“An arrangement?” His men weren’t weak, and they were loyal. What the hell was Routh talking about?

“If I rearranged their bones, and they would tell me your plan for me and my wife.” Routh answered and leaned forward. “You crossed the line in targeting Zoe.”

He smiled. “You won’t be able to do anything. Better give up now and walk away. Be smart about this.”

He gave a quick glance at the safe where the folder was stored and laughed. He finally understood what Routh’s goal was, to protect his wife’s dignity. His confidence soared. Routh wasn’t a cop right now, Armstrong informed him that he was also serving some sort of punishment by their new chief of police.

“I’ve decided that she’s important to my future business.” He leaned forward, matching the larger man’s posture and staring back up at Routh in defiance. He wasn't a big man, and all of his family and relatives inherited their grandfather's slim build. Despite that, size didn't mean shit here. The poor cop had no power right now, no badge, no authority, and later, no wife, nothing. He held all the cards and controlled all the variables.

Serj was ready too, at a proper distance in case Routh decided to take matters into his own hands.

“That slutty wife of yours will soon  serve, with legs spread open.” He goaded him further and smiled in satisfaction when he saw it was working. “You haven’t seen the pictures, haven’t you? If you walk away, I might even send you some copies. Tell that bitch to hurry and come up here or else…”

The slap came out of nowhere. He heard his brother shout something and glass breaking. He was dizzy and realized he had fallen on the floor. His jaw ached, and he felt a metallic taste in his mouth.

“Fuck him up Serj!” He spat. His tongue touched an unfamiliar sensation in his mouth. Some of his teeth were missing! Where was his gun? Did he just get slapped?

His vision slowly cleared, and when his eyes focused, he realized Serj was staring at him, but he quickly noticed that something was wrong with his brother. His eyes were unfocused, and his favorite shirt had a red stain in front of it.

“You think I won’t come here without backup?” Routh asked.

He yelped as Routh suddenly grabbed him by his ankle and started dragging him out from under his desk. His head bumped on the wood, and he frantically held onto the edges of the leg of his wooden desk with the tips of his fingers, but it was useless. Routh was just too strong.

He remembered the knife tucked at his waist and fished it out. Before he could use it, he screamed as he felt himself being thrown across the room.  He saw stars as the side of his face collided with the vault. Did Routh just throw him like a doll across the room by the leg?

“Open it.” Routh demanded. “Or I start breaking fingers.”

He stared dumbly at the large man in front of him, unable to comprehend what had happened in mere moments.

Routh casually grabbed his left hand and, with a deft twist, broke his pinky. Hot white pain burned in his head, and he gasped in shock.

“That’s one.” Routh informed him. “Unless you open that vault in ten seconds, I’ll break another.”

“Wait! I’ll do it!” He scrambled over to the vault, but his hands were still shaking hard from what had happened to him. What was the combination again? He was halfway to the combination when Routh broke another finger.

“I’m doing it!” He cried out in pain.

“That’s ten seconds. You have ten seconds more.” Routh simply replied. "Eight fingers left, after that you'll have to open the vault with what's left of your teeth."

Despite the throbbing pain from his broken fingers, he was finally able to open the vault.  It only contained one thing, the brown folder that had the glossy photographs printed on photo paper.

Once the vault swung open, he collapsed back on the floor, trying to get a sense of the situation. Everything was happening too fast. He looked to the side and watched as Routh poured his expensive whiskey into the vault and threw a match inside. The flames immediately grew, allowing smoke to fill the room as the photos burned.

He wondered what Routh was about to do next. The large man was just standing in front of the vault, watching everything inside the vault turn to ash. He should have made copies, but he was too selfish and paranoid. Now his only leverage against the captain was vanishing right before his eyes.

He heard footsteps outside and looked at the door. Was that Armstrong? He felt himself being lifted in the air. Routh had grabbed the back of his expensive shirt behind his neck and the other by the belt of his pants. He felt like a cat dangling in the air, powerless before the man he had just provoked earlier. He really regretted that decision now. He should have stayed away from Mid-Wilshire.

The door swung open, and he saw it was his aide, the one he told to get food earlier. The man quickly pulled out his weapon, his eyes wide with shock.

“Boss!” He could see his aide scrambling to aim his gun.

“Wait! Don’t!” He screamed. He wanted to tell his man not to give Routh any reason to use deadly force, but it was too late for that now. Leroy was loyal, and simple, he was a good errand boy with simple ambitions. But he was not that smart enough to be let out with the rest of his crew in the first place, doing distribution and collection.

His aide aimed his gun, and Routh responded quickly. He heard a loud gunshot, and he felt himself flying through the air across the room towards Leroy. The impact was hard, he was dazed as he collided with his aide, and they both fell on the carpet in a heap of tangled limbs. Damn it, Leroy!

He groaned, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“Shit, I’m sorry boss.” His aide looked scared, and he realized he had been shot by his own man.

 “God damn stupid fuck!” He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. Was this the end for him? He could hear sirens getting louder in the distance.

Jack Routh

He stood still as unfamiliar cops barged into the room, and he slowly calmed his breathing. He raised his hands as they swarmed, checking for any threats. The red haze in his vision vanished, his anger now spent.

“Don’t move! Don’t move!” A cop screamed.

“I’m not moving.” He replied. He suddenly felt tired. “I’m a cop, P2 from Metro. Badge is inside my back pocket.”

The cops immediately lowered their aim, but they didn’t holster their firearms. Another cop pulled out his wallet, and he saw from his peripheral that the man was checking his badge.

“It’s true, Higgs. He’s from Metro.”

“You can lower your arms.” The lead officer, a P3 by the marks on his sleeves, nodded at him.

“Call Captain Cortez from Rampart and Commander Percy West from Internal Affairs.” He told the man. “They’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

He mostly stayed on the scene, as curious civilians looked on from a distance behind the yellow tape. He knew it was going to be a long night with how the events quickly unfolded. Detectives asked him questions, but he refrained from giving out an actual statement, preferring to address West directly since what he had just learned was a sensitive issue.

Internal Affairs finally arrived, with Commander West leading them in. The old man looked grumpy, and he understood the reason, anyone being woken up in the middle of the night had that right.

“Officer Routh.” West came to a stop in front of him. His mere presence scattered the detectives hovering around him for over an hour. “Care to fill me in on what happened here?”

“My wife and I were targeted by the Derian crime family.” He replied immediately. “Their men attacked me when I left Rampart this afternoon, and when I subdued them, I learned that they were targeting my wife and were luring her to this location. I gave the location of those men to the detectives earlier, and they’re going to need ambulances. It’s because of the audit we were planning for Mid-Wilshire tomorrow, and I’m sure you know the details about that.”

“I do.” West nodded. “Continue.”

“Fearing that my wife was in danger, I headed here and sneaked in through the roof.” He motioned to the nearby shelter across the narrow alley. “I just jumped from the roof of the shelter to the hotel, and there I saw Detective Armstrong smoking a cigarette.”

He pulled out a voice recorder and handed it to the Internal Affairs Commander. “When confronted, he confessed that several cops are under their influence. That’s why I waited for you to arrive, because of the sensitivity of the information, and that’s why I didn’t call for help. I didn’t want to tip off any dirty cops or anyone working with them.”

“You really don’t want me to get any sleep tonight, do you, Officer Routh?” West accepted the recording device and pocketed it. “What happened to Nick?”

“He tried to run. I warned him, but he slipped and fell off the ledge.” He added. “I then headed down and confronted Ruben Derian and his brother Serj about my wife.”

“The cop killer.” He saw the look of anger in the older man’s features.

“He was about to shoot me, when my wife, who was providing over watch, shot him first.” He replied.

“Andersen’s here?” Percy looked surprised.

“That’s her now.” He pointed in the direction of a figure climbing down a set of fire escape stairs, a rifle slung on her back. “She was Marine sniper before she joined the force.”

Minutes later, he was sitting beside Zoe, her rifle confiscated for evidence. She had her head on his shoulder, and they both sipped from a paper cup filled with coffee.

“You were brilliant.” Zoe spoke out.

“You were too.” He put an arm around her.

“I still can’t believe how quickly you formulated a plan.” His wife noted. “Even I couldn’t think that fast.”

“It just happened.” He looked back at the run down hotel and replayed the events that happened earlier. Zoe wanted to join him, but he stressed her importance in the plan. Ruben’s window had blinds, but they were partially open and but he could still see through them. His wife’s support would be crucial, but he trusted her to cover his back.

One look and he knew the optimal route to get in, and a mere glance between the two building and he instantly knew he could make that jump across the alley. He knew to roll after landing the jump, as well as choosing the best hiding spots to not get seen. This was not just Reacher’s memories, this was something else.

Commander West came back with news. Ruben Derian didn’t make it on the operating table, he had lost too much blood. They quickly headed to Central where they underwent another round of questioning until morning. Chief Coleman didn’t even make an appearance and it was her station.

By late afternoon, they were finally allowed to leave, with Zoe also being put on leave due to her shooting of Serj. It was a clear-cut case of self-defense, but protocols had to be followed. As soon as they entered their house, they headed to the shower. His wife barely left his side the entire time, and even just hugged him for a long time under the hot shower.

They stayed there together for how long, he couldn’t tell the time. Zoe led him out of the shower, and he wondered why she didn’t bother to towel up. She just pushed him back to the bed, and quickly sucked his dick hard.

It didn’t take long to get rock hard and Zoe quickly climbed up and straddled his waist, her sex resting with the tip of his penis waiting to get in.

“He wanted me.” Zoe slowly rotated her hips and he watched as the head of his penis penetrated her. He briefly closed his eyes at the warm, tight and slick sensation.

 “But I belong to you.” His wife moaned as she impaled herself fully on him.

“You do.” He replied and placed his hands on her hips. He didn’t need to look at those pictures, that didn’t matter for their future. They barely spoke, and he mostly watched his wife’s face, her expressions as they slowly reached their peak. She was breathing faster, and a flush started to form on her cheeks all the way down to her chest.

He felt her get slicker and knew she was about to reach her climax. He grabbed her ass and helped her along, his fingers teasing her puckered hole as she pulled her down on him, hard. He felt her clench, and she finally screamed. He joined her, and he raised his hips, pumping his cum inside her and marking her once more.

She collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily. He noticed his wife was tired and slowly stroked her back, trying to make her relax. He listened quietly as her breathing became deeper, while her body became limp. Zoe had fallen asleep.

He followed suit and woke up to a tickling sensation on his nose and a wet sensation on his chest. Zoe had moved during their nap, her hair everywhere, and a strand ended on his face. His wife was drooling, and a puddle of her saliva had formed on his chest.

Their peaceful morning was interrupted by the sound of Zoe’s phone ringing. Zoe opened her eye and groaned. He reached over and grabbed her phone from the table beside their bed and handed it to her.

“Grey.” His wife yawned and sat up.

“Don’t worry about I.A.”  He barely listened to the one-sided conversation, his attention mostly focused on his semi-erect dick that was still buried in his wife.

“Something happened, and West will arrive later to brief you.” Zoe glanced at him. She clearly felt him stirring deep inside her. As a test, he thrust up, causing Zoe to give him that look.

“No, I can’t give out all the details, but our suspicions about Armstrong were right all along.” He had to admire his wife’s ability to focus. He pinched her erect nipples, causing Zoe to tense up.

“He’s dead. How? He fell off a roof.” He started pumping faster, his hands on her hip.

Zoe merely closed her eyes and bit her lip as she started moving her hips in sync with his thrusts.

“I’ve been put on leave for killing Serj. Yeah it sucks, but it’s procedure. Tell…” Zoe gasped. He had just inserted a finger in her ass, and she was staring at him with surprise written all over her pretty face. “Sorry, stubbed my toe. Tell Caradine to… follow up… on the case we’re falling behind on. Yeah… I’m fine…”

“I’ll call again.” Zoe quickly ended the call and tossed her phone on the bed, and grabbed his face with both hands.

“You like playing games, you brute?” He was about to reply when Zoe kissed him hard, with her tongue probing his mouth.