10 Years Later...

---------Police Department---------

James McCloud was 20 years old now. For a year now, he's worked with the Cornerian Police Department. He's got himself a nice home from all the money he's earned. Not enough for college, but hey, who can go to college these days? It was better than sitting around alleyways like he did after his mom died.

Andross was still on the run. He's been on the run for ten fucking years. That bastard was clever, but they'll get him someday. James made it his first priority, just as everyone else in the department. But what can he do? He's just a cop.

"Hey, Jimmy. Check this out..."

Peppy, an old friend of his, was checking up on the cameras. They were in charge of taking care of the drugstores, or watch them via cameras linked back to this department. They had cameras linked up to every drugstore in this city. Not exactly a great job, but it was better than nothing. Anyway, looks like there's a robber trying to, well, rob the place.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is the fourth robbery this month." James got up, and headed out with Peppy following him.

"It's our job, Jimmy. Either you like it or you don't." They got in the car, and drove off. "Either way, we're getting paid."

In a couple of minutes, they found the drugstore. Sure enough, there were that dumb ass robber trying to look smart. He was pointing a gnat the clerk's head, who was kneeling down on the floor begging for mercy. A typical situation. James and Peppy got out of their cars, guns out. They kicked down the door.

"Freeze!"

The robber saw the cops, and pointed his gun at them. Peppy took a step forward.

"Okay, just calmly put your gun down, and you'll remain unharmed."

He wasn't listening. Typical. James looked at the clerk, who was hiding behind his desk. Then he got an idea. From the looks of him, he looks like he used to play football. He motioned towards the clerk. He rubbed his finger against his neck, as if cutting his head off. The clerk responded. BAM! He tackled the robber, knocking him to the ground. James ran up, kicking his gun away and putting his foot on the robber's chest.

"You know, it always has to be the stupid ones who try to hurt people. They're also usually the ones who don't listen. So let's try this again."

James pulled the robber onto his feet, and gave him his gun. "Calmly put your gun down, and we won't be forced to hurt you."

The robber paused for a minute. Then, he dropped it.

"Good. Now..."

Peppy went behind, and started to handcuff the man...

POW! The robber elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to fall on the floor! He made a break for his car. James started running to his car. He looked back at Peppy.

"Just...go..."

James ran for it, getting into his car. The robber already drove off. James left the parking lot, putting his siren on. He saw the robber took a left - into heavy traffic. Great. James had a lot of bad chases in his life, but never in traffic. It's fucking suicide! Well, it looked like he had no choice. He went left. The robber was a real pain, sweeping through cars and taking sharp turns. This guy just doesn't want a long life. He called the department.

"Adam Twelve, code eight!"

They responded. "Twelve code eight. Go ahead."

"I'm en route code three to a, uh...code nine, break--"

"Go ahead."

"I'm responding to the party, uh...showing physical as white male, six foot, two-eighty, blond and blue,

break--"

"Go ahead."

"Respond to...route 174!"

"Copy. Confirm both."

That was taken care of. Backup was on their way. Now he just had to make sure this guy doesn't do anything else stupid. Well fuck, he had to say it. Now the robber is attempting to drive on the wrong side of the road. Like the traffic wasn't bad enough.

Good, backup. Another police car drove in behind him. It was Pigma Dengar, a friend of his. He was a bit older than Fox, thus he had more experience as a cop. Pigma held up four fingers, which meant he was asking if he was okay. James responded with holding his four fingers up. That meant he was fine. Pigma nodded, and drove away, up to the suspect. James followed.

Pigma attempted to ram into him. No good, the robber won't give up. Then James came up to his side, and tried to ram the car against the side. Still, this guy just doesn't know when to quit. Then it happened. The robber went full speed, trying to get away – when he crashed into an 18 wheeler.

"Shit..."

James slowed down, and got out. No doubt he was either dead or seriously injured. Pigma got out and checked the suspect. He wasn't dead, but his head was very bloody, and there was a hunk of metal stabbed into his chest, letting out a lot of blood. It looked like this guy was going to die anyway. The driver of the 18 wheeler was fine, but that's no surprise.

"Adam Twelve, this is dispatcher. We have a Paul Ida here. Requesting for a hook and an ambulance."

"Copy dispatcher. We're en route."

---------Hospital---------

"The robber died a few hours ago," said James. "Well, he was in a horrible condition to begin with. His report showed that he's been smoking marijuana a lot, and probably sniffed cocaine a couple of times."

Peppy had some fractured ribs, and the doctors were checking that out. He had to lie down, so it wouldn't hurt. James was with him, and he was telling him about the robber, which he just did.

"Well, these things happen. Now he's six feet under, I guess."

"Yeah. What a shame, spending your last hours of life robbing a shitty drugstore."

Chief Reinard walked into the room. "Hello, boys. Son, you alright?"

"Oh, I'll live."

"Well, I just want to say you boys did a good job out there."

James could see what was coming. "Well, thank you sir."

"And I think it's only appropriate to promote you."

Peppy jolted up, which caused excruciating pain in his chest. James laughed.

"Ow! Uh...thank you, sir!"

"You guys will be taking care of banks and car chases, if you don't mind."

James was a bit disappointed. But it was better than guarding drug stores.

"Yes sir. Thank you again."

"See you boys on Monday."

To be continued...