Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Super Cop

Jake Speed wasn’t a man to trifle with. He was a man who dealt in absolutes. You were either a bad guy and deserved to be punished or a good guy to be left alone to continue your law abiding life. There was no grey.  Jake chomped on his comically oversized cigar as he drove through the busy morning traffic. The siren wailed overhead as Jake pushed his Impala to its limits, swerving through the other cars like a banshee over the Cliffs of Moor. He rubbed his grizzled, whiskered chin as he made a hard left in front of the bank and slammed to a hard stop.

He leapt from the Impala and walked confidently to the Captain’s car. Jake’s custom cowboy boots clomped audibly on the asphalt, louder than the near-by hovering helicopter. He removed the cigar from his mouth and spit onto the ground.

“Speed, glad you’re here”, said the Captain.

Jake growled low in his throat.

“The robbers have 25 hostages and are threatening to kill them all if we don’t deliver them a bus to take them to the airport”, said the Captain.
“We’re not giving them a thing”, snarled Jake as he clipped his police badge to his blue jean waist band.

He pulled his massive .45 caliber revolver from his shoulder holster and adjusted himself in his pants. He spit again and squinted at the one visible bank robber near the front entrance of the bank.

“What are you going to do Speed? I don’t want this to be messy! By the book Speed, by the Book’, shouted the Captain as Jake started walking toward the front doors of the bank.   

Jake held the hand cannon up to his side as he approached the front doors. He had seen this situation too many times before. It was just another day in the cop life. He’d stopped caring about his own safety long ago. It might have made him reckless. But deeply, he’d nothing left to live for.  It was after his lover plummeted to his death on New Year’s Eve that Jake Speed became a man on a mission. Brett had hit the concrete so hard right in front of Jake’s eyes and there was nothing he could do. Jake told Brett not to wear six inch platform heels. He’d blow up the world if that mean justice.  

“That’s close enough copper!”

Jake stopped and put his weapon down on the sidewalk.

“I’m just here to talk, to find out how we can help you get out of this situation safely”, said Jake.
“You’re that super cop, Jake Speed aren’t you”, asked the masked bank robber.
“I’m just a cop”.
“Oh, well, we give up then”.
The bank robbers dropped their weapons and started marching out of the bank. Jake picked up his weapon and started walking back to his Impala.

“Great work Speed”, called the Captain after Jake.

Jake had to fight the impulse to cry as he got into his car and gunned the engine. He still had to get to the cemetery to put flowers on Brett’s new grave. It was going to be a long Tuesday. 

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