Author's Note- Alright here's my first real chapter. It's pretty long and it took me (if you don't mind me saying) for-fuckin'-ever to write since I switch Point of Views at least five times and had dozens of writer's block on this one.Just a side note, by the way, all my POV switches are after the solid line.

1

BALLROOM BLITZ

My name is Nicholas Kang Wilson (but just call me Nick Kang) and this has got to be the most guarded place I have ever infiltrated. I'm serious, it is. Course when it's in an abandoned warehouse, in downtown, with a group of cop killers, robbers and thugs what do you expect, right?

Hearing footsteps I stooped low to hide behind another trash Dumpster, as another guard walked past. For those who have not a clue in hell who I am let me give you a quick run though (everyone else can ignore the next paragraph if you want).

I'm half-Chinese with dark hair and dark eyes, and you'll usually see me on the streets wearing a pair of cargo pants of some kind, a T-shirt, and a tricked out jacket. I'm also a Elite Operations Division agent (EOD for short). In other words I'm a cop with special jurisdiction over the city of LA. Translation: If you try to kick my ass I'll kick yours and then take you to meet the boys in San Quentin.

I'm pretty sure George told you, basically, what has been going on. That the newest crime wave has been getting deadlier and deadlier by the day, with cops and innocent people being murdered, street shootouts, and those string of bombings. So far the EOD had just one lead: a scumbag named John "Big Jay" Bradford, the leader of a slimy thug group that hangs around the Southside. Witnesses have noticed him and his thugs nearby when there are bombings and shootouts.

My mission: to look around his hideout and see if I could find any heavy artillery that has been reported to be used in the shootouts, or any interesting bomb-like hardware, and if I couldn't find any of that to take him back to HQ and have a little "chat" with the scumbag.

But to do that I had to infiltrate the place since they seem to have a special password and hand sign to get in (I couldn't catch the password so I figured I might as well sneak in). This would not be as bad if it weren't for the fact the thugs seemed to be (how should I put it?) very damn paranoid.

I peeked up to see the thug in a hoodie and Converse standing there smoking what, at first, looked like a cigarette if it weren't for the fact it had that all too familiar gut wrenching smell to it.

This guy has got to be higher than a friggen kite if he's been smoking that thing for as long as I think he has, I couldn't help but think.

I quietly pulled out my tranquilizer gun that I had in my jacket and loaded a red dart into the chamber and put a silencer on the end of the barrel.

Well, at least he won't be able to feel this.

I peered around from behind the dumpster, aimed the gun at the punks back and pulled the trigger. He yelled out, "Son of a …!" when the dart hit him right between the shoulder blades. Then he fell to the asphalt ground with a thump!

That's why you don't smoke that shit on guard duty.

I then crept forward and leaned against a wall. I could hear a dog barking nearby but I thought nothing about it, after all this was downtown. I sidestepped as quietly as I could to the nearby corner. One quick peek around it I could see another guard, standing in wait.

I took a deep breath. Then I quickly crept around the corner ran up behind the thug and gave him a swift martial art's move that knocked him out and on to the ground.

Didn't see me coming, did ya? I thought with a grin.

I could hear voices and rap music grow louder and louder with each step I took. The back door had to be around here, somewhere.

It was then I could hear more footsteps. Quickly I did a flipping leap, behind a bunch of cardboard boxes, and ducked down until I heard the footsteps pass.

Whew, that was too close, I thought. I stood up and glanced over to my right to see the door that I had been looking for. I had stepped out from behind the load of boxes when suddenly the door opened and one of those thugs came out. They stopped dead when they saw me.

"Who the fuck are you?" The thug asked quite frankly.

Not wasting time, I ran forward. With one hand I grabbed him from behind the neck and forced his head down, with the other I jerked his head as hard as I could, snapping his neck with a bone sickening crack!

And stay down!

Taking a few deep breaths, I put a hand inside my jacket; checking the holsters just for reassurance. I could feel the cool metal of my Desert Eagles there, loaded and ready.

Well this should be interesting.

Boy, was I ever right.

My name is Jackson Slate, or you could call me Jack Slate if you like.

I stood on the street corner, a hand in my pocket another running through my dark brown hair, my blue eyes lowered so anyone passing by would think that I was just some random guy on the street, walking home maybe. When I was really was surveying the place in front of me.

I knew was way out of Grant City limits being in downtown Los Angeles. But I had to be here. There had been several incidents in Grant City that had the city in the gutter. Well, more in the gutter then it usually is anyway.

Lately there had been more Bombings, shooting, more gruesome murders than usual. So far the only lead that my station had was this group of goons that seemed to be around every time something went down.

So I personally decided to pay this group of goons a visit, and a shootout later I finally got a name from the thug: "Big Jay", and he usually hung out in a warehouse in 'The City of Angels".

After, a long talk with my boss, Chief Martel, I finally got permission to check out the claim. So here I was, standing on the street corner, in a pair of worn jeans a white muscle shirt and a brown leather jacket. Not exactly my type of "cop clothes" but what do you expect when your undercover?

I felt a slight brush past my pantleg. I didn't have to glance down to know who (or most likely what) it was.

"What took you so long Shadow?" I asked shaking my head. "Where you planning on scopeing out every park in the city?"

I looked down to see a gray, black, and white Husky at my side. It was none other than Shadow, my K-9 Partner that I myself had raised, and trained since he was just a pup. He gave a bark as if to answer my question (after having him as a partner for awhile I'm sure he was answering me).

I shook my head an looked back to the warehouse.

According to "Little D", my "informant" from Grant City. I would need a password and the salute to get in, luckily after several hours of convincing I finally got both. Which was more than good, my Chief didn't really want me to notify the local authorities, well until I knew what I was dealing with.

So me and Shadow where on our own, for now.

I bent my knees so I was at Shadow's level. Scratching him slightly behind the ears, I looked at him square in the eye.

"You know what to do, boy," I told him.

He wagged his tail and then disappeared in to the darkness of a nearby alleyway. I gave a slight smile at that, and turned to the goon warehouse.

Putting my hands into my pockets I walked to the front door, where a lone thug in baggy pants, a muscle shirt and barbed wire tattoos stood on guard. I gave him the hand signal (a three fingered salute).

"An' the password?" He grunted (I had a feeling he wasn't the intelligent type).

"Shark," I muttered.

He looked at me up and down then finally nodded, and banged his knuckles three times on the hardwood door which opened instantly. I then took a quick glance to the nearby shadows, where I could swear I saw a flash of steely cold blue eyes staring at me, non-blinkingly.

Knowing that my "back-up" was lying in wait I walked into the warehouse.

Nick Kang

I walked in to the place, pretending to just be another one of the scumbags from off the street. After a quick glance around I could see that the warehouse looked like one of those underground clubs. You know, the one that advertises by word of mouth.

Flashing stage lights hung from the ceiling, giving the rusty warehouse a strange feel; a feel like anything could happen. A bar stood along the far back wall. Meanwhile a DJ and his turntables stood along the right wall, playing a earsplitting mixture of rap and techno music that pounded in the air.

I could see a large throng of people on the floor below, as well as on some of the scaffolding above.

From my past experiences with "Big Jay" (and there have been a few), I knew a few useful things:

1. When he travels he usually doesn't do it alone.

2.If he is alone, he'll have some pretty big hardware with him

And 3. If you want to find him you'll usually have to find one of his boys.

So with this useful information I walked out on to the dance floor.

Luckily, to find one of his boys I wouldn't have to look far. From a distance I could see Darrel, "The Garbageman" as they called him was nearby the bar. I walked to him, but as I did I whammed my shoulder pretty hard into the back of (what I had guessed to be) one of the nearby street thugs who was wearing a leather jacket and worn jeans.

"Sorry, Man" I said as I saw him stumble forward a bit.

I guess I was expecting the man to be some biker punk cause of the leather jacket, an angry voice saying 'Watch where your going, Asshole!'. Maybe even a punch thrown at me if the guy was having a bad day. But as he turned around I noticed something right off the bat.

He didn't look like any biker I've ever seen, his brown hair was not in a 'do rag but slicked foreword, he wasn't wearing chains around his neck, and he definitely didn't have a beard on his chin. He had to around my height, with blue eyes, and had the same build as I did. He looked pretty much like a typical guy walking the streets.

"Hey, Don't worry," He said. "I didn't see ya there."

I cocked an eyebrow. It was one thing for this thug to look like and average man, but another for him to be polite when I rammed my shoulder into him. But I couldn't ask questions, I had a scumbag to interrogate.

So, I walked over to the bar as quickly as I could. Trying not to draw too much attention to myself… Well, until I had reached Darrel.

He was wearing camouflage print pants, with a black muscle shirt that showed off his many tattoo's, and a visor the was upside down and pushed to the side. He also wore a load of sliver chains around his thick neck.

Darrel just sat at the bar when I crept up behind him, grabbed him from behind his head and WHAMMED his head against the bar, making a few people stare. As he winced, I pulled him up by his scalp saying, "Yo Garbageman, I've got some trash I need you to take out."

"Nick?" He spoke suddenly, recognizing my voice. "Damn, dog, you scared the hell out of me."

"Really? Good, now tell me where Big Jay is."

"Aw man, you know I can't do that-."

"Well tough rocks pal," I replied.

Then I WHAMMED his head against the bar again. I had pulled his head up and was about to ask again when there was the sound of foot steps. I looked up to see the barkeep in a white muscle shirt, black pants, with thick tattooed arms and a shaven head.

"Can I get you anything sir?" He asked me, only mildly curious.

"Yeah I'll take a Bourbon, straight up," I said as I slammed Darrel's head against the bar again.

The barkeep turned around and poured the drink into a clear glass. He sat it down as I pulled Darrel's head up off the bar.

"Look Pig," Darrel said wincing. "You know I can't rat out on one of my homies."

"You're not ratting out," I told him grabbing my drink. "I just need to ask Big Jay why his crew has a habit of turning up at the latest bombings. Now where is he?"

"Man you know-".

I took the glass up to my mouth with one hand and carefully slammed Darrel's head against the bar with the other.

I could hear a muffled noise from Darrel's mouth that sounded like, "OKAY! OKAY!".

I sat my drink down and pulled him up.

"Well?" I asked expectantly

"He's upstairs you, crazy Mofo!" Darrel proclaimed.

I grinned satisfied, quickly I pulled out my wallet grabbed a few bills and sat them on the bar for the drink.

"Atta boy," I complimented, before I whammed his head one last time against the bar.

But as I turned to leave I could see that same guy the I had run into just a few minutes ago standing there not just three feet away, listening to everything that Darrel said. The man gave me a hard, calculating look, a look that gave me a really creepy feeling. I stepped foreword to ask what the hell was this guy's problem, when suddenly several people passed between us going to the bar.

After the people passed I could see that the man had gone.

Something tells me, I'm not the only one looking for Big Jay

Jack Slate

Great, this is just great, I thought as I pushed my way through the dancers. First, I leave Grant City after a lead in LA. Then I find that I'm not the only one after him, now I think there may be someone after me.

I glanced over my shoulder to see if that dark hared, Asian-looking guy was behind me. I couldn't see him but I couldn't shake the feeling that he was following me. He looked pretty steamed when he saw that I had overheard him interrogate that one goon as he slammed him head so hard against the bar that I was sure that he'd be feeling it tomorrow.

How did that man know Big Jay? And why the hell was he after him, anyway?

I went to the iron staircase, when I felt that familiar feeling. That someone was watching me. I turned to see that guy was not that far behind me. Suddenly in a flash of a strobe light, he had vanished.

I had a mind to look around for him, find him, and give him a piece of my mind but I knew that it wouldn't be smart. I had a job to do.

And my first priority of that job was to get all these people out of here since I had my usual gut feeling that things where gonna get pretty rough. I looked around for something that I could use that wouldn't cause too much of a riot. Anything I could use.

It was then I saw it, a fire sprinkler not to high above my head. It looked a bit rusty but otherwise in good condition. I just hoped it would still work.

I reached into my pocket, looking for something. Found it.

Quickly, I pulled out a matchbox that I had in my pocket from the last big bar brawl that I had been called to take care of a few night's back. I pulled out a match, and striked it against the wall. Instantly the match caught aflame. I lifted it up to the sprinkler.

First the alarm went off, then the sprinkler system kicked in. In series of squeaking noises, and rusty brown water came pouring down. Almost, as soon as the water came down there was the sound of people yelling in surprise. I glanced over to see them running for the door. Good, I don't have to worry about them anymore.

It was then I heard a cry of voices, one of them yelling, "AW SHIT! IT'S THAT DAMN COP! HE'S HERE!"

Dammit!

I swung around to see several goons running down the stairs, Berettas in their hands. They turned to me aiming their guns. Adrenaline, rushing through my veins like some sort of drug, I turned to these men, and leapt off the stairs and out of the way. Once on the dance floor, I quickly took cover behind a table that had been turned onto it's side in all this mess. Quickly, I pulled out the two Colt .45's that I had in my jacket.

"Company's comin', here we go," I muttered.

I leapt out of my cover, aiming at two of the goons. Before they could start shooting at me, I shot at them first. And it didn't take long for them to soon lay dead on the ground.

As soon as I hit the, now wet, floor I did a side-roll to my feet, avoiding bullets. I then aimed and fired at the remaining goons to finish them off. As I did I could swear, I heard the sounds of gunfire not to far away. In fact it had to be in the same building, strange thing was it wasn't me who was doing it.

At that moment a bunch of thugs from the opposite staircase came running down. Once they saw their pals laying dead on the floor and guns in my hands, they quickly realized that I wasn't you're typical street guy.

The ran foreword, shooting customized Desert Eagles, sawed off shotguns, and Berettas. I leapt back, narrowly missing bullets as I aimed fired at them. Making each one fall down, dead I guessed.

It was then a door in the back of the club opened, three thugs in hoodies, with AK-47's in hand burst in. Before I could compose myself from the last gunfight, they aimed at me. Like a automatic response, I started firing back, dodging bullets by moving around as fast I possibly could. I aimed and fired at two of them. As they fell to the ground I dived forward, firing at the last goon who was doing a pretty poor job of shooting me down.

When he pitched dead to the floor, I head a sudden barking of a dog somewhere behind the warehouse.

Shadow must of found Big Jay!

I turned for the door when I heard a splash and a slight thump behind me.

I swung around with my .45, as I did I found myself looking down the barrel of a I.M.I. 50 Desert Eagle, gleaming in the party lights. It's owner was a wet yet familiar looking Asian man.

I couldn't help but be slightly irritated. First the asshole chases me, now he's standing in the way of my only lead in this damn case.

"Get the hell out of my way, Sir!" I demanded, not in the mood to shoot down another thug. "I'm Grant City Police, and I'm not in the mood to put another thug in a body-bag!"

The look on the man's face shifted for a short while when I told him I was a cop. But suddenly turned enraged.

"I'm not a thug, Jackass!" The Man yelled, his dark eyes ablaze. "I'm a Elite Operations Agent! Get the hell out of my way!"

He's Elite Operations? But before I could demand him to flash his badge and he could even ask for mine, there was a loud BAM.

Now what?

Nick Kang

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath.

Pushing through the throng of dancers, I glanced around looking for that man that had overheard me and Darrel having a "chat". It was then I found him, he seemed to be going up the stair case that led to the second floor.

Who the hell is this guy? And why did I get that gut feeling that we where looking for the same shithead? I wondered.

The man stopped in the middle of the stair case and turned to look behind him.

Shit, gotta get away from here and fast! Who knows what that guy would do if he found out I was following him. Besides I had an asshole to catch, I just had to get there before that guy, or whoever the hell he was, got there first.

I swung around to see another staircase, not far from the bar. Somehow, I managed to make it to that staircase in no time at all. I ran up it, dodging party goers as they went down to the dance floor. As soon as I made it to the second floor I scanned around through the number of punks, thugs, and gangster's, looking for one.

Alright Big Jay, you Jackass, I thought. It's time to say hi to Nick Kang and his friends at the EOD.

It was then I saw him, dressed in a black and silver Oakland Raiders Jersey, along with black saggy cargo pants. There where several silver rings on his fingers, as well as sliver chains around his neck. His dark hair was cut short, and he had a bit of a goatee on his face. Around him was his usual assortment of thugs and scumbags, along with several pretty girls in tube top shirts and extremely short skirts.

At this I gave a smirk. Please Big Jay, you could at least try to make this harder for me.

But as I started toward Jay something happened. There was a sudden wail of a fire alarm, then in a series of squeaks the sprinkler system kicked in. People started screaming, running for the exit. Mean while I stayed and swung around looking for the sire. Strange, I didn't see any fire, and I didn't smell anything burning.

I turned back to Big Jay. He and his posse of assholes where making their way to the staircase. Him in the lead

"Goddamn it, Man!" He yelled. "These threads are dry clean only."

In a gutsy move, I run up behind then, and did a flipping leap over the crew landing on my feet before them.

"Trust me, Jay," I said pulling out my gun and pointed it at him as he paused at my sudden appearance. "That's the least of your worries."

It took a few seconds for Jay to realize who it was standing before he realized who I was.

"AW SHIT!" He exclaimed. "IT'S THAT DAMN COP! HE'S HERE!"

As soon as he yelled out the words, his "homies" took action. A few of them reached for guns while Big Jay quickly ran back behind him, his girls running with him

I leapt forward, pulling out my other Desert Eagle. Firing at his homies. I took two down with the first round, before I had to leap to the side, taking quick cover behind a couch, quickly reloading. As I changed clips I could faintly hear gunshots from below, but I decided I'd worry about them later. I leapt out from behind the couch shooting at Big Jay's crew, making some pretty close shaves. Several more fell down dead, this time. And I could also just see Big Jay go to a window of the old warehouse, and window that led to the fire escape.

Damn it! I had to get out there or I would lose him.

In a rushed hurry I shot at the last remaining goons, when they fell to the floor, dead or neutralized (I was in a hurry I couldn't tell how many where dead or not). I ran to the side of the scaffold. If Big Jay was outside by now, then I wouldn't have any trouble using the back door to catch up with him in the alley. In a bit of reckless daring, I ran and leapt off the scaffold. It wasn't a long drop, but my legs still felt a strain went my boots hit the floor.

I made a splash and a thump as I landed on my feet. I had enough time to see that I had landed just behind someone. Thinking it was another member of Jay's Crew I raised my gun to point at his head, meanwhile the man swung around and put his gleaming Colt .45 in my face.

It was that one guy I had seen earlier!

Damn, he looked pissed when he looked down his gun barrel at my face.

"Get the hell out of my way, Sir!" He demanded, as if he where annoyed that I had showed up. "I'm Grant City Police, and I'm not in the mood to put another thug in a body-bag!"

I raised an eyebrow when he said he was a cop, but my surprise turned to anger as fast a NASCAR race on wet track.

"I'm not a thug, Jackass!" I yelled, pissed off. "I'm a Elite Operations Agent! Get the hell out of my way!"

That got him. He looked at me, stunned. He opened his mouth, as to (I guessed) ask me for my badge, and I was going to ask for him when there was a loud BAM! For somewhere behind the building. Like a shotgun going off. Then it hit me.

Big Jay!

"Damn it!" Me and the Man across from me said in unison.

Both sort of forgetting about our showdown. We both took off for the backdoor. As soon as I yanked it open, we where met with the last sight we wanted to see.

Big Jay lay cold and dead. A large bloody hole in his back as if made with a sawed-off shotgun.

Well, I couldn't help but think. Guess Big Jay isn't the man behind this after all.

A.N.- I'd like to take this moment to thank my two first and awesome Reviewers: animeaeris and MasklessDuckman. You guys are the best!