I would like to apologize about characters names, they were created spur of
the moment and sound really stupid. Sorry.
1Questions unanswered
The newsletter was thrown carelessly onto the desk. Chip looked down at the pulped paper with headline: Elvis spotted at donut shop in little Havana. Seeing something that ridiculous sparked his anger. Chip grabbed it and threw it back at Buck who grinned wildly.
Chip: get that shit off my desk!
Buck: what, it's funny.
Chip: it's stupid and crazy. You finding humor in it make it no better, maybe even a little worse for that matter.
Buck: so what, I like to read it, they report the stories other papers won't.
Chip: well that's because the other papers want credibility.
Chip Wilson was a ten year veteran of the VCPD homicide division, in other words he was too busy for this.
Buck: well, the reason I'm showing you this is there's something I think you might like to see.
Toby "Buck" Jameson has only been in this division for six years, something his partner Chip won't let him forget.
Chip: what is it?
Buck: this my friend of friends...
He opened the newsletter/paper to page four of eight. Inside was a picture of a dead body and then a editorial about police incompetence in the investigation of a recent warehouse shootout, known as the Brand shootout because of the former detective found dead at the scene.
Chip: so?
Buck: (reading) VCPD homicide has officially made no statement but detective chip Wilson was quoted as saying; "its all very clear cut, I'd say right now there is no need to investigate."
Chip: give me that!
Chip snatched the paper from Bucks hands and read the quote.
Buck: I knew you wouldn't be too happy.
Chip: assholes! I never said that.
Buck: tell em that.
Chip: how do you mean?
Buck: I signed us out to go talk to a witness in a case who doesn't exist; the sheet says we'll be there for two hours. I say we go down to the local print works where this is printed and file a complaint to the editor.
Chip: now that is a good idea..., partner.
Buck: (grinning) now this could be very dangerous, I have a nightstick or two in the car along with two fully loaded riot guns. You know just in case.
Chip: (grinning as well) of course, of course.
Buck: come on, let's ride.
And with that, Chip and Buck threw on their coats, straightened their ties, and went out to the parking lot where they went into an unmarked Admiral with their gear in the back and drove off for the print works in little Havana.
As they rode they listened to flash, the local pop station which played the greatest disco hits since Saturday Night Fever had made them so big. Buck nodded his head a little and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while Chip ignored it. Buck was they type who could listen to anything from disco to country, while chip would only like the classics. Chip was having a hard time lately, he wasn't fitting into the time period because he couldn't adapt. 1978 has been a transition year for the two who've been partners for three years now. Buck smiled; the print works was in sight.
The Admiral pulled into a concrete lot and the two got out. Buck popped open the trunk.
Buck: here we go! Wanna take the riot guns or the night sticks?
Chip: any reason to suspect they are printing bills in there?
Buck: no just the paper.
Chip: no chance anyone is armed?
Buck: I believe there's only one guy who even works there and makes the paper.
Chip: in other words, no danger.
Buck: yep.
Chip: riot guns.
The two pulled out large 12 gauge shotguns from the trunk. They loaded and pumped them, then closed the trunk and walked up to the front door. Buck tried the handle, it was unlocked. The two bent cops smiled at each other.
Inside the print works, Greg Noorey had been laying out a new issue of his investigative paper when a shotgun blast ripped through his door taking out the handle. The door was then kicked open and two men wearing suits in summer heat burst in. The two had shotguns and screamed that they were not afraid to use them. Greg fainted.
Next chapter: Intimidation
1Questions unanswered
The newsletter was thrown carelessly onto the desk. Chip looked down at the pulped paper with headline: Elvis spotted at donut shop in little Havana. Seeing something that ridiculous sparked his anger. Chip grabbed it and threw it back at Buck who grinned wildly.
Chip: get that shit off my desk!
Buck: what, it's funny.
Chip: it's stupid and crazy. You finding humor in it make it no better, maybe even a little worse for that matter.
Buck: so what, I like to read it, they report the stories other papers won't.
Chip: well that's because the other papers want credibility.
Chip Wilson was a ten year veteran of the VCPD homicide division, in other words he was too busy for this.
Buck: well, the reason I'm showing you this is there's something I think you might like to see.
Toby "Buck" Jameson has only been in this division for six years, something his partner Chip won't let him forget.
Chip: what is it?
Buck: this my friend of friends...
He opened the newsletter/paper to page four of eight. Inside was a picture of a dead body and then a editorial about police incompetence in the investigation of a recent warehouse shootout, known as the Brand shootout because of the former detective found dead at the scene.
Chip: so?
Buck: (reading) VCPD homicide has officially made no statement but detective chip Wilson was quoted as saying; "its all very clear cut, I'd say right now there is no need to investigate."
Chip: give me that!
Chip snatched the paper from Bucks hands and read the quote.
Buck: I knew you wouldn't be too happy.
Chip: assholes! I never said that.
Buck: tell em that.
Chip: how do you mean?
Buck: I signed us out to go talk to a witness in a case who doesn't exist; the sheet says we'll be there for two hours. I say we go down to the local print works where this is printed and file a complaint to the editor.
Chip: now that is a good idea..., partner.
Buck: (grinning) now this could be very dangerous, I have a nightstick or two in the car along with two fully loaded riot guns. You know just in case.
Chip: (grinning as well) of course, of course.
Buck: come on, let's ride.
And with that, Chip and Buck threw on their coats, straightened their ties, and went out to the parking lot where they went into an unmarked Admiral with their gear in the back and drove off for the print works in little Havana.
As they rode they listened to flash, the local pop station which played the greatest disco hits since Saturday Night Fever had made them so big. Buck nodded his head a little and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while Chip ignored it. Buck was they type who could listen to anything from disco to country, while chip would only like the classics. Chip was having a hard time lately, he wasn't fitting into the time period because he couldn't adapt. 1978 has been a transition year for the two who've been partners for three years now. Buck smiled; the print works was in sight.
The Admiral pulled into a concrete lot and the two got out. Buck popped open the trunk.
Buck: here we go! Wanna take the riot guns or the night sticks?
Chip: any reason to suspect they are printing bills in there?
Buck: no just the paper.
Chip: no chance anyone is armed?
Buck: I believe there's only one guy who even works there and makes the paper.
Chip: in other words, no danger.
Buck: yep.
Chip: riot guns.
The two pulled out large 12 gauge shotguns from the trunk. They loaded and pumped them, then closed the trunk and walked up to the front door. Buck tried the handle, it was unlocked. The two bent cops smiled at each other.
Inside the print works, Greg Noorey had been laying out a new issue of his investigative paper when a shotgun blast ripped through his door taking out the handle. The door was then kicked open and two men wearing suits in summer heat burst in. The two had shotguns and screamed that they were not afraid to use them. Greg fainted.
Next chapter: Intimidation