AN: So here we are back in the saddle again. I reminded you all that Stone is an evil son of a bitch, right? Because Stone's an evil son of a bitch. Yeah, that scene was inspired by a scene in one of the Punisher comics. I loved it because of how pissed Frank got when the bad guy did that to his family and then just fucked everything up for everybody until they got buried.
Will Zuma go on that kind of a rampage? Well, you'll see.
Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol
"Anybody can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way - that is not within everybody's power and is not easy." -Aristotle
He hated patrol. There was nothing to do when you were ordered to just stand around in one place and make sure there was no trouble on your turf. Most of the time you didn't even fire a gun. About a year ago, you could get the chance to be ambushed and be forced to pop a few gangsters. Thanks to every gang in the city fearing one single man, they were all but silent and behaving. Sometimes the police would cross by, but they would just ignore them. Either out of fear or laziness depended on the situation. Ten Pin didn't like to admit it, but that psycho of a man named Damian Stone could put the fear in the army if he had his way.
The sick shit he pulled on those bodies three days ago was enough proof of that. It was already spreading across social media with many calling Stone a sick bastard. Not that he cared, the guy seemed to just enjoy the attention. Personally, Ten Pin didn't like him. It was one thing to be solider on the streets, it was another thing to be a full on mad man.
Still, he liked living more than opening his mouth.
"Will you stop playing on that damn phone, man? I don't wanna keep on the lookout all by myself," he said, glaring at his fellow crew member who was busy on his android. "Seriously, if I gotta do this boring shit you at least do it with me."
"Relax, man," he replied, shaking his head. "Nothing's gonna happen."
"Right, so the last sixteen guys killed yesterday was nothing? Or the twenty before that?" Ten Pin argued, shaking his head. "Man, if the rumors are right and this Zuma dog is out for blood? I don't wanna be at the bad end of his fangs you know?"
"Come on, you really think one pup is doing all that? Just cause Stone killed his family and desecrated their bodies on live TV?" his partner asked.
"What would you if your old man and ma ended up getting piss all over their bony faces?"
"I'd be more upset I didn't do it myself."
Ten Pin rolled his eye before checking his watch. "Yo, I gotta call Evan and his crew. Stay alert man."
"Whatever."
Walking down the street, Ten Pen made his way to the phone booth on the other end where he put in a corner and dialed. Due to the risk of getting traced on their cells, everyone was ordered to use the payphones unless it was an emergency. He waited for someone to pick up on the other end, but nothing came except a voice message recorder. Cursing, he slammed the phone back in its handle before stepping out of the booth. Lighting up a smoke, he puffed before looking up at the cloudy night sky. Maybe I should get out of town. Word is the Feds are coming to personally deal with Stone. Do I really want to get life with that guy? Maybe I should head to Foggy Bottom and lay low as a cashier or something with my cousin.
He took a few more puffs before stomping the cigarette in the ground and making his way to the corner where he found his partner, head down, still staring at his phone. Grumbling, he walked over and stood in front of him. "Dude, I told you to lay off the phone." When he didn't listen, Ten Pen cursed and grabbed his head. "Listen to me you son of aaaaaaAAAAAA!" He stood there, still screaming, upon seeing the torn up and bleeding neck of his partner.
Before he could react, something snapped the back of his legs and forced him down. He tried to reach for his gun, but a paw to the hand knocked it away and he felt his fingers get ripped off by a bite. Screaming, he pushed his attacker away and started running down the ally, holding on to his bleeding hand. He didn't get far as the cloaked creature tackled him from behind and sank his jaws into his neck.
No matter how much Ten Pen yelled and begged for mercy, he didn't stop.
Rocky watched as the trees passed by them in his spot on the Paw Patroller. After finally getting everything packed, the Paw Patrol was ready to head to Costal City. It was a mission that all of them had been waiting for months. First objective was to find Zuma, and second objective was to stop Damian Stone once and for all.
With their new H.A.V.O.C. armor and gear, they were more then ready to handle whatever the gangs of the city could throw at them. Detective Shaw would also be there to help, not to mention the FBI was sending their top unit to help with the situation. Still, Rocky didn't have much hope it would make too much of a difference. Last time Stone was active, an entire multi-task force team had assembled, and they still couldn't take him out.
Still, it didn't matter who was their back up or not. All that Rocky wanted was to find his love and bring him home.
"… and in other news, another strike against the gangs last night as the mysterious vigilante killed ten known gang members. Witness say they saw a cloaked canine figure that many suspect is former Paw Patrol member Zuma. Zuma, whose parents and sister was killed by Damian Stone and his gang, was suspected dead for months until recently. Not to long ago, the remains of his family were desecrated in what is being called the most insidious act on the internet. The Chief of Police has issues an arrest warrant for Zuma, stating that vigilantism will not be-" Chase shut the TV off as the others who were watching looked at him.
"What do we do?" asked Chase.
"What do you mean?" asked Rocky.
"Rocky, if Zuma is really killing all these gangsters then he's committing murder. Even if they are bad guys, he's doing it without proper authority and in ways that are just plain brutal. In every aspect, he's now a criminal. So, what do we do?" asked Chase.
"Does it matter? Chase, you know what he's been through, he needs help," replied Marshall.
"Can he even be helped at this point? Zuma… he never used to do something like… this," replied Rubble, shaking his head.
Rocky got off his spot and walked forward. "It doesn't matter what his state of mind is or if he is a criminal or not. He's our friend and a part of our family. We are going to find him and protect him, even if we have to drag him by his tail to do so."
"We all want that, Rocky," replied Chase, sighing. "But the law doesn't. At worse, they'll want to jail him… or…."
He didn't say it, but everyone knew what he meant. It was still legal in to euthanized dogs either as a punishment or an act of mercy killing. Rocky didn't care. He was going to save Zuma, even if he had to fight the entire law itself to save him. Nothing will separate us again. Nothing.
"Hey, guys," replied Ryder on their pup tags. "Were getting near the city now."
The pups all raced to the window and opened it to get a look of Costal City. Rocky stared at the high skyscrapers and sighed. "We're coming, Zuma."
"Geez, at least learn to clean up your paws after your little murder runs," cried out Frisk as the white terrier rubbed his floor with a rag. His home wasn't much, but it was large enough shed of an old school yard that kept him warm and safe over the years. It was filled with all kinds of junk people tended to throw away in the trash, but the one thing he was starting to regret bringing in was the pup that saved his life.
He didn't need to ask to find out who he was. Zuma's tale was one spread around the city even before Stone broke out. It bothered Frisk to know he was sheltering the highest target on Damian Stone's shit list, but he owed the pup and he didn't want to get on his bad side. So far, he didn't ask for much except for some basic information and food; both of which he had plenty of.
"Sowwy, it's been awhile since I lived in a place that wasn't indoors," replied Zuma as he sat down on an old futon. He could barely remember the inside of the Lookout. It all seemed like such a distant dream of a life so long ago.
"Eh, its not like this is Buckingham Palace," Frisk admitted as he tossed the rag away. "So how long are you going to keep killing random goons? I mean, your not exactly going Rambo after…uh.. you know…"
"When he pissed on my family?" growled Zuma in such an empty tone it sent shivers down Frisk's spine. "I'll get him back for that, but I'll wait. I've leawned how to take my time in killing scum."
"Well, now you got the police after you too. The Chief really wants to put the needle in ya," replied Frisk.
"I don't care. As long as I get Stone in the end, I don't care," replied Zuma as he yawned. "I'm gonna take a nap."
"Yeah, yeah. Sleep tight, pup," replied Frisk as he watched the small pup close his eyes and drift off into sleep. It was almost adorable too, if you didn't forget this pup was a killing machine. So, the pup's waiting for a chance to strike back, huh? Well, I better find something for him. Let's see if Lena has some info for me.
With that he quietly exited the shack.
It didn't take long for the Paw Patroller to arrive at Costal City's First Precinct thanks to some helpful directions from Detective Shaw. The said detective was waiting for them in the parking lot as they drove in, allowing the group to greet their old friend with some licks and handshakes. "Nice to see you again, Ryder. Wish it was under better circumstances," replied Detective Shaw as he patted the teenager on the shoulder.
"Same here, Detective Shaw," replied Ryder as he and the pups followed him into the prescient. "So, what's going on?"
"Right now, the entire city is on fire with everything that's been going on. Between Stone's actions and our mysterious vigilante, the entire city has been flooding the chief and the mayors phone with demands for action to be taken. Gun sales have gone through the roof with everyone getting what they can to protect themselves. Tourist attraction has taken a dive, but at least the beach is clean," he opened the door and let them in, getting the attention of some of the workers in the station as they passed by. "The good news it that most folks, including the officers around, are supporting the vigilante despite the Chief's objections. To them, its about time Damian Stone got someone after his hide. Can't blame them really."
"Has Damian Stone done anything since his… public broadcast?" asked Chase.
"No, he's been keeping silent for a bit. We nail some of the gangs doing stuff for him, but it small stuff like carrying guns or drugs. No, he's planning something, but I don't know what," replied Shaw as he took out a cigarette to smoke.
"I thought I told you to take that smoking habit of yours and do it outside!" shouted a large beefy man in what looked to be a high-ranking uniform. He walked towards Shaw and tried to grab it, but the detective was quicker to keep it from him.
"I'll stop when you stop takin shots of that tequila bottle you got hidden in your bottom left cabinet," Shaw shot back which made the large man huff and turn a bit purple. "Everyone, this lump of lard is my boss."
"I swear Shaw, one of these days…"
"Whatever Ralph Kramden," said Shaw as he puffed a cloud in his boss's face. "Are the FBI guys here yet?"
"Just arrived a few moments ago," replied The Chief as he motioned to a group walking towards them from the other side.
They were five in total, but what really caught their attention was that one of them was a German Shepperd dog. Unlike the pups, he was a full-grown young adult who had a seriously look on his face… and looked a bit familiar.
"Hey, Chase. Check it out. A FBI dog. Kinda what you wanna be when you get older huh?" asked Rubble, but he tilted his head upon seeing Chase's wide eyes. "Chase?"
The leader of the five, a male Caucasian with smooth black hair and ice blue eyes turned to the chief and nodded. "My team's all set up. We can begin planning our objectives at once." He then noticed the Paw Patrol and narrowed his eyes. "Is this them?"
"Yeah, this is Ryder and his Paw Patrol. Ryder this is FBI Agent Kennedy," replied Detective Shaw as Ryder walked forward and held out his hand.
"I see," replied Agent Kennedy as he ignored the hand and focused back on the chief. "Sir, I still stand by my recommendation that we do this without a group of children taking part in this."
"Hey, we may be young, but we've handled Damian Stone before," replied Rocky, growling.
"Yeah, we're not afraid," replied Skye.
Agent Kennedy turned to the chief who shrugged. "Governor wants them in. I can't do anything about it."
"Very well. Meet us in the meeting room when you and your team are ready, Ryder," replied Kennedy as he and the others turned around.
"Wait, Blue!" shouted Chase suddenly, causing the German Shepard agent to stop while keeping his back to him. "Aren't… aren't you going to say something?"
"… I'll say the same thing I said to you all those years ago," whispered the dog agent as he turned around and glared at Chase with his teeth showing. "Do us a favor and go kill yourself."
The entire patrol gasped at the harsh words while Chase just lowered his head and whimpered. Marshall, his face dawning in understanding, walked over and place his paw over his shoulder as the FBI walked away.
"What's his problem?! Who was that son of a bitch?!" shouted Skye, growling.
"He's my brother…" whispered Chase, making Rocky, Rubble, and Skye snap their heads towards him in shock. "Or… more accurately… he's my older half-brother."
