"Love, Lust, & Vigilante Justice" (closed)

[CutiePie1997]

"Love, Lust, & Vigilante Justice"

(Closed)

NOTE:

If you were following along with the role play
"Up Close & Personal"
which Homerun2611 and I were writing,
please see the note at the bottom of this post
before you begin reading.
If you have never heard of
"Up Close & Personal"
ignore this note and keep reading.
Enjoy.​

It was a standard meet, greet, and swap, money for drugs; present were the cocaine producers/suppliers, the Tererro Cartel, as well as the city's distributors and corner dealers, the Baker Street Boys. The two sides included men from 8 different nationalities speaking 6 different languages; they were truly ethnically diverse criminal organizations, as opposed to so many of the single-race, single-language, single-culture gangs and cartels that were involved in the drug trade and other criminal activities plaguing American cities.

The two groups had been peacefully and respectfully doing business with one another for more than a decade, and no one expected any surprises tonight.

But surprise was what they got.

As the transfer of the large case of cocaine bricks and duffel of cash was taking place inside the otherwise abandoned warehouse, a lone figure was slipping through the dark outside dispatching the sentries posted inconspicuously about the neighborhood to prevent exactly this kind of attack.

The first three kills were done from a distance, with a small caliber but highly accurate rifle. It was just powerful enough to put a bullet into a man's skull and incapacitated if not kill him outright, while small enough in powder load to make suppressing the sound as easy as raising a finger to your lips and whispering shush.

The next three kills were also performed with a small caliber, silenced firearm but from much closer. And it was a revolver used so as to prevent shell casings from clinking across the pavement in the otherwise relatively quiet neighborhood, as would have happened if a semi-automatic pistol had been used.

These kills had been performed up close and personal.

The next two would be as well, at the door raised roll-up door that was the last portal to where the deal was going down. These kills, though, were performed with a knife. The big, heavy, razor sharp blade sliced through the air to cut cleanly through the front of the first armed man's neck, right through the flesh and vessels to the vertebrae. Even as he was falling to the ground, the knife was penetrating the back of the neck of the second lookout who hadn't yet detected the ambush. The carbon steel entered at an upward angle that sent the blade up into his brain. He was dead even before the man on the ground next to him was, as the latter tried without success to scream out with this severed throat and voice box.

Thus far, the sound of the previous attacks hadn't been heard by the next intended targets. But this last attack had been in very close proximity to the men finishing the transfer of coke and cash and turning to head for their nearby vehicles. They and their bodyguards heard the bodies and weapons at the roll-up hitting the ground, and one after another discovered the attack and went on alert.

They didn't all immediately catch sight of the very unusual ambusher; some never saw her at all as she leveled the Glocks taken from holsters at the small of her back and began unloading them. Panic ensued and men scattered for cover or pulled and began firing back with their own weapons.

But then, in an instant the attacker was gone, disappeared into the dark of the warehouse once again. And as she vanished, small recorders hidden atop stacks of crates on opposite sides of the transfer site began bellowing out threats and accusations in English, Spanish, Italian, and Russian -- the four different languages common to at least one or more of the members of the two sides of the sale.

Within seconds, any of those men who hadn't already become casualties were firing on their counterparts, believing that their former business associates were responsible for the ambush. Meanwhile from the dark of the warehouse, the mystery attacker continued to slip through the stacks of crates and bins with the last of her weapons, an AR-15 with night vision and sound suppression. From the shadows, she picked off one man after another, not caring from which side of the business transaction they came.

Eventually, the gunfire subsided.

Six minutes later, after using a pre-planned route of dark alleys, abandoned stairwells, underground passages, and parking structure sublevels -- all without video surveillance or people who really took much notice of her -- the shooter slipped into the back of an abandoned apartment building. There, she stripped, cleaned up, disposed of her clothes and any forensics in a barrel of acid, and casually disappeared into the night.

By then, the police had responded to the call of shots fired. The Press was there, too, joined by a hundred or more wannabe YouTubers with their cell phones raised, recording the aftermath. Ultimately and in total, spread across the warehouse and the neighborhood surrounding it, the cops would find 12 dead and 19 injured, as well as a case of coke that would later be estimated to have a street value of more than $14 million dollars.

They found no cash, though. There was no duffel to be found.

--------------------​

NOTE: Homerun2611 and I have decided to take a second run at our previous role play, "Up Close & Personal", with this new role play. If you were not reading along with UC&P, then you can stop reading this note because it is moot. (I love that word, moot.)

If you were reading UC&P, then you need to know three important things about reading this new thread:

1. Our main purpose for starting over is to eliminate or make less important some of the secondary characters and focus more on Marla, JT, and one or two secondary characters.
2. The first few replies you read here will be edited versions of the first few replies from UC&P. They will look familiar to you because you read them already.
3. And finally, although you have read the first few replies in UC&P, you will want to read the posts above in their entirety rather than gloss over them. Otherwise you will get lost when the alterations begin to make an impact.

Sorry for any confusion or inconvenience, but hey, sometimes life needs a redo.

 

[CutiePie1997]

14 minutes after the last bullets flew:

Trauma Room Doctor Katherine Hamilton tapped the air bubbles out of the syringe and stuck it into the thigh of the man on the table before her. It was only a local anesthetic meant to keep him from feeling what she was about to do to him in an attempt to keep him from bleeding out before her. One of her nurses was hooking the screaming man up to an IV that would knock him out for the surgery that, hopefully, would save his life.

"How many waiting?" she hollered out as she saw another EMT vehicle stretcher passing down the hallway past Emergency Room Exam 3.

"Six more on their way!" someone hollered, adding, "But that's not all of them!"

An EMT she knew well was helping move another injured man -- covered in blood and likely already dead -- from the vehicle's stretcher to a hospital bed. He leaned in close to Katherine and told her, "I hope you didn't have plans, 'cause they say there's at least 30 down."

She looked up at him and asked with shock, "What the hell happened out there?"

He only shrugged, saying, "Ask your boy Alex about it tomorrow … or, read his article."

"Alex...?" she responded. "Alex Jacobs Alex?"

The EMT shrugged again. "He was on the scene before even we were. The man has contacts. He's reporting the news before anyone even knows it's been made."

Katherine contemplated the reporter with whom she'd very nearly had a thing some time back, but then -- as the man before her let out another scream -- she returned to her work.

-----------------------​

Six hours later, there were still a number of surgeries taking place involving the men who'd been brought in after what was already being called a Massacre. But Katherine had already been on shift for 28 hours by now, and the other doctors had that covered.

She should have headed for home, but instead she went to the quiet room set aside for the Residents and stripped down to her comfortable set of panties and bra to take a nap on one of the cots. She caught movement and looked to the far wall to find one of the younger male Residents laying there in silence, watching her with wide eyes.

"Go to sleep," she chastised, unable not to crack a smile. "Ain't nothing more to see here."

"Hey, I'm a Doctor," he returned, "I've seen it all."

"Not on me you haven't," she said, slipping under a sheet and thin blanket before finishing, "And not on me you won't."

She laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Alex, who had been the last man who'd almost seen Katherine in less than her bra and panties. Was that really the last time I wanted to get naked with a man? she thought, recalling that that had been at least a year ago.

The two of them had been set up together by another Doctor, Rick, after Katherine had provided some off the books medical care to Rick's sister, Hanna, who'd had an adverse heroine experience. They gone out to dinner, then drinks, then dancing, and had ended up in a back hall way making out furiously as she urged one of Alex's hand up her skirt and another up her blouse.

God, it had felt so good to be touched, she recalled.

Katherine yearned to touch herself now and turned her head to look at the Resident. He was asleep now on his side facing away from her, and she was tempted to slip her hand down inside her panties and fantasize about Alex. But she knew she couldn't do so quietly enough to remain undetected, and then she'd have to fuck the Resident who'd either want to get inside her or tell the other doctors what he'd seen.

They'd been interrupted that night, what with being in a public place. And after that, they simply hadn't been able to coordinate their schedules for a second date, let alone a roll in the sack.

-----------------------​

She awoke with a start two hours later to the laughter of a couple of Residents who'd broken the rules of the quiet room. Dressing again, she decided to head for home to enjoy a bath and sex. She grabbed some AAA batteries from her desk before she left, knowing that her lover Buzz was likely low on energy.

 

[CutiePie1997]

84 minutes after the last bullets flew:

From what had once been a textile company but was now a squat for people struggling to stay away from the heroine epidemic raging through the city, Hanna Hughes had been watching the scene unfold in the warehouse a block away.

She'd awoken from a fitful sleep to the sound of what sounded like World War Three, and while the others scattered like roaches to light, she'd pressed her face up to the dirty glass to watch. She hadn't seen much from here other than the gun barrel flashes. After the shooting had ended, though, she'd seen something she hoped would be worth some money to Alex Jacobs.

Hanna had made her way down to the street and merged into the gathering crowd when she saw the familiar reporter. She called out softly, then whistled and waved to him, "Alex. Alex! Here. Over here. It's Hanna. Rick's sister. Rick Hughes."

He started her way, though Hanna wasn't entirely sure whether or not he'd actually remembered her. She'd met him a couple of times through her brother, Rick, and she'd thought he was very handsome. She'd fantasized about being with him at the time, about maybe being his lover, his girlfriend, maybe someday his wife. But he was a reporter of some note, and she'd been a barista who'd been dabbling with opioids and heroine. What kind of relationship would that have become?

Her brother thought Hanna was still working as a barista and taking classes at the Community College while renting a room from a classmate. In reality, she'd lost her job and her room and then dropped her classes after she'd ended up on the streets. But she'd managed to stay off the dope, so, she had that going for her.

As Alex stepped up, Hanna reached out and pulled him close to her, whispering, "I saw her."

She pulled back, looked him in the face, then nodded as if she was confirming something that he should already understand. Hanna continued with a low but excited voice, "I saw her. The girl who escaped."

She pointed off down a dark alley, then finished, "She ran off that way. With a big … whaddaya call'em, like the army guys carry … a … duffle. I think it might have been full of drugs."

Hanna pulled him in closer again, whispering, "Hey … do you think … do you think you could loan me some money … for food … you know, just a couple of bucks."