An Encounter with Revenge

It is another late night of patrolling for Jim and Pete. Fortunately, it hasn't been too busy and they have time for some dinner and are just coming off code seven.

"You sure you don't want me to drive, Pete?"

"No, Jim, I'm not tired." "I told you that my date with Cheryl didn't go that late, and I got a pretty good night's sleep."

"So, are you going to see this woman again or did you blow your chance with her when you both bumped into Donna at the theater?"

"Well, to be honest, we didn't have that much in common, and she didn't have much of a sense of humor." "I'm sure running into an old girlfriend didn't help the situation much either."

"Boy, Pete, I forget how difficult it is to juggle so many women."

"Hey, make fun if you want, but I'm not painting the living room on my days off."

"Pete, you just never stick it out long enough to enjoy the deeper things in a long term relationship."

Just then in the middle of the conversation, very bright headlights in the front surprise our boys in blue. A second later without a moment to react a large tractor- trailer slams into the squad car on the front driver side fender quickly crushing in the whole hood and side of the car. The noise is deafening as the squad just crumpled under the pressure from the size and speed of the other vehicle. The momentum knocks the car off to the far side of the road. Stream begins to float up from the smashed engine with the chilly night air. Inside the squad, two officers slump in their seats.

Pete hit his head on the side window and is unconscious. His left temple by his eyebrow is bleeding from a gash. He has been thrown hard against the side and possibly dislocates his left shoulder. The damage to the hood pushes enough of the engine into the driver's side compartment that his left leg is pinched and trapped.

Jim on the other hand has hit his head on the dash. He has contusions on his forehead from the violent hit. He is semi-conscious and a small groan escapes his lips. He might have strained or broke both wrists when he instinctively reaches out to brace himself. Pain is radiating through his mid-section from the pull of the seat belt. In the background, the noise from the radio chatter could barely be heard.

A big man slowly steps down from the truck appearing to be unharmed. With the size of the semi-truck only some front grill damage could be seen on it. The road the accident occurred on was empty at this time of night. The man looks both ways and doesn't see a soul. He walks around the squad car and peers in. He looks down at officer Reed and appears to be reading his name badge. He opens up the passenger side door, reaches in, and grabs the police mic. With one quick jerk, he pulls the mic right off of the radio.

"I guess no emergency calls for you tonight!"

Jim begins to shift in the seat and starts to lift his head. He can sense a person next to him.

In a very low voice Jim tries to speak, "can you help?" His eyes weakly open and he sort of sees a large shadow of a man standing just outside the door.

Just then he hears, "Good night, Reed!" and a sudden jot of pain hits his chin and he fades into unconsciousness. The stranger uses one swift punch and took care of one hindrance to him. He then, unbuckles Reed's safety belt and pulls him from the car. He drags him a few feet to one side and quickly returns to the car. He crawls into the front seat and looks at Malloy's name badge.

"You're my guy. I have a score to settle with you. But I want you to know what's coming to you first." With the side totally crushed in, Pete couldn't come out through his door. The man reaches down and unsnaps Pete's safety belt. He grabs a hold of his right arm and collar and pulls toward the passenger door. His unconscious body just collapses into the man's arms. He would have come out easily except for his left leg being pinched under the dash and smashed door. The man just continues to pull not really caring what condition he is in. Eventually, Pete's leg rips loose from the metal with fresh lacerations around his left knee. With his hands holding Pete under both armpits he lays Pete face up on the pavement. He reaches around feeling Pete's belt until he finds his handcuffs. He pulls up one of Pete's wrists and snaps it in place, then pulls his other wrist in front and locks it in tightly. Blood continues to drip down the left side of Pete's face and now his knee as well. Pete didn't utter a sound during this whole ordeal.

The large man lifts up Pete in a fireman style carry and hauls him over to the truck. After placing him in the back compartment the man gets into the driver's seat and drives away. He heads north toward Angeles National Forest. Left behind is an injured and unconscious Jim Reed.