Operation gangbang

The cashier at the gas station walked from behind the counter and opened the door to the office where they kept the recording equipment. Reagan followed her and took a seat at the desk with the monitor and rewound the footage. Stone hung back, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jefferson at the office door. Reagan started the video footage.

From their vantage point at the office door, Stone could see on the monitor that they'd no sooner parked out of sight behind the carwash, than a car pulled up outside the store. The felon got out of the car, then the vehicle pulled off the forecourt to park on the road. She walked into the store, already wearing the mask, and ambled over to the counter. The felon pointed a gun to the cashier, then glanced to her left as Jefferson walked in. Jefferson saw what was going down and did a sort of dance between running out and dodging for cover, only to fumble for his gun, and then chose to hide behind the display. The felon had taken flight, firing off three shots over her shoulder, then she hid behind the shelving. The car that was parked on the road sped off. Everything else played out just as Stone had experienced, down to him looking over his shoulder, except when Jefferson had said the felon went for the gun, it was more like her arm doing a last death-throw twitch.

Jefferson tugged on Stone's shoulder and pulled him to one side.

"You're lucky."

"What does that mean?"

"You're lucky that it's all on camera, that's what I'm saying. If it wasn't on screen, I'd be thinking you'd be hanging me out to dry to try and join up with Granger's crew. I heard what you said to him."

"What's that?"

"Why call me a hero and say it was a white girl in the same breath, unless you were trying to get into his good books?"

He was right. What he'd said had been intentional at Jefferson's expense. He shrugged his shoulders. Whatever, it was looking as though Jefferson had a different opinion to Stone as to what was on the recording when he took that last shot.

"So, when you said I'm lucky, was that meant as a threat?"

"Just sayin'."

Their conversation was interrupted when their sergeant walked through the open door, his boots crunching on the broken glass. Dressed in full SWAT gear with armor, he looked like some version of a robot cop. Stone recognized James from forensics as he walked in behind him.

"Has Detective Reagan arrived?" Sergeant Baily said.

"He's in the office," Jefferson said.

The sergeant marched into the office and closed the door behind him. Stone walked over to James, the forensic guy.

"Hi, James. The stiff's behind the racking," said Stone. "I took a bullet in my vest and the slug's still in there."

"Take it off then. I'll need the whole vest as it is."

Stone ripped at the Velcro straps. He lifted his arm to remove the vest, then stopped.

"Give me a hand. My ribs are sore."

James helped him out of his vest. Stone unfastened the buttons of his shirt to examine the area where he was feeling pain. The area where the bullet struck the vest was already bruised. He winced as he touched the area. He was sore but didn't think his ribs were damaged and refastened his buttons. He knew that he was lucky. The vest had saved his life. Sergeant Baily exited the office, not looking pleased.

"This is all we freakin' need." He turned to Jefferson. "Listen, Reagan says the footage shows that you possibly acted in self-defense, but regardless, I'm gonna have to put you on administrative leave until the gods from internal affairs give the all-clear."

Stone still wasn't so sure that internal affairs would see it the way Reagan had viewed what went down.

Sergeant Baily glanced at Stone. "Where's your freakin' vest?"

Stone explained, then said. "Does this mean I'm on leave too?"

"Do you need a medic?"

"No, I'll live."

"Then don't be stupid. We're one man down already. Jefferson, give him your vest."

"Who's gonna partner me? I thought we could only go over the red line in pairs?"

"Yeah, well needs must. I can't call off the operation now. I need you in position in twenty minutes. Let's go."

"How will I get home?" Jefferson asked Sergeant Baily.

"Ask Reagan nicely after he's interviewed you, dipshit."

Sergeant hurried out of the door. Stone put on the vest but had to suck up the pain as he slotted in his arm.

"Does he always talk to you like that?"

"No, he's one of the good guys. He don't mean nothin'. He's just pissed at all this altering his staffing plans. This is all Jake Carter's fault. If he'd have partnered you, I wouldn't be going home now to chew the fat for however long it takes to get back to work. I'm betting he's not sick. He's one of the Granger crew."

"Whatever. Enjoy your rest," Stone said. "Listen, text me your address, I'll call and see you after internal affairs have interviewed me and keep you posted. I've been there, so I've experienced not knowing what the hell's happening."

Jefferson hesitated at first, and then took out his cell phone.

"Give me your number."

Stone rhymed of his number, then tipped him a salute before turning and then headed to his car. He slung his arm over his seat and grimaced at the pain in his chest as he reversed out from behind the carwash. Granger and his partner exited the forecourt following the sergeant's vehicle. Stone followed them all the way to the rendezvous in the rear parking lot of Burger King along East Compton Boulevard. Despite the pain, he wasn't about to throw a sickie with some serious action going down. Besides the squad cars, the lot was packed with some serious armored vehicles that displayed SWAT and FBI insignias.

Stone knew the plan. Squad cars in first to close down the area, with radio silence maintained. Then the gang unit would enter with the FBI and SWAT to make arrests.

He glanced at his dash clock. As the display hit one, he slipped his transmission into first, then joined the line as they set off in convoy with the rest of the squad cars, until they reached Vermont Avenue. With the shooting earlier, it was proving to be an eventful shift. Cars started to peel off from the line. Stone heard the voice from his GPS instruct him to take the next right as he approached West 155th Street. Stone eased off the gas pedal and parked at his designated station. Another squad car pulled up behind him, then they both positioned their vehicles to block 155th. Death Alley, they called the two-mile stretch either side of Vermont Avenue inside the red-line area, with the Westmont area having the highest homicide rate in LA. Word had it that separate teams were synchronized to hit the area from all compass bearings.

There was a tap on his window. Stone pressed the button to roll down his window. He didn't recognize the officer.

"Oh, it's you," the officer said.

"What does that mean? Do I know you?"

"You're that guy they're calling the Tire Monkey. I saw you in the locker room yesterday."

"Yeah, well the name's Stone, Jason Stone."

"The name's Stone, Jason Stone," he said, mocking him in a sarcastic tone. "You sound like that freakin' spy dude in the films. No wonder you're solo. Granger said that no one's gonna want to be your partner."

"Oh, yeah, and why's that?"

The officer shrugged his shoulders and walked over to his partner, while shouting, "Hey, guess what, we've gotten Tire Monkey for company."

Stone sighed. It was looking as though he'd be cold-shouldered for the rest of the operation. He pulled out his notebook and checked the address for Candice. Fiddling with his GPS, he located her address, and then smiled when he saw it was just around the corner. If nothing else, he thought that he could stuff her purse in her mailbox once the operation was finished.

Headlights drenched his car. It was the first of the armored vehicles. Stone slipped his transmission into reverse and made a space for them to pass through. He looked on as vehicle after vehicle passed by. It was game on. He let out a deep sigh. Two weeks earlier and he thought he could have been invited to the thick of the action, instead of being stuck on the periphery with two dicks who didn't want him there.

Clearly, whoever planned the operation, he could see they were taking no chances with the numbers involved. Stone couldn't see what could go wrong.