Mickey leaned again the door and watched the hallway. The three gangsters she had shot lay in the hallway. They were quiet. She was pretty sure at least one was dead, maybe even two. She occasionally heard a low soft moan and that told her one of her enemies was still alive and wounded. Her police and military training urged her to go to the wounded and give first aid. Like all police and military members she was trained in basic and advanced life saving. However, she knew there were many more armed bandits in the building and she had no idea how long it would take her supporting tactical team to arrive at her location. Until they arrived she could not risk leaving the relative cover of the doorway she was in, or abandoning her prisoner, Philip Cardone, who was the objective of the entire mission.
Suddenly her eyes picked up the dancing shadows on the wall at far end of the hallway as at the same time she heard male voices coming up the stairs speaking in Spanish. Suddenly, just as the voices reached the top of the stairs they stopped.
Then she heard: "Que' diablos es eso?" What the hell is that?
"Mierda. Su Pablo y sus hombres." Its Pablo and his men.
Then she could clearly hear a strategy discussion between a group of men hidden from her by the stairwell. She recognized the voice of Mr. Juan DeSalvo, the owner of the Velvet Club and the cartel lieutenant who gifted her to Cordone. He was in charge, and he understood something had gone wrong and the cartel leader, Philip Cordone, was in jeopardy.
Mickey heard him order his men to pull the bodies in from the hall and back into the shelter of the stairwell. Mickey held her fire as she peeked out her room door and watched DeSalvo's men rush out into the hallway to retrieve their fallen comrades
She had no desire to use any more force than necessary and she hoped that DeSalvo would be in a position to render first aide to the survivors of the first group of security guards. Over the next few minutes she could hear but not make out a whispered exchange between DeSalvo and his men and she presumed the wounded men. Then two shots rang out. It took Mickey a few seconds to realize that DeSalvo did not want to be burdened with wounded subordinates.
As Mickey watched down the hallway suddenly a thug emerged from the shadows of the stairwell entry. He slowly proceeded down the hallway as the policewoman peeked out from her doorway. A few more steps and he would be halfway down the hallway and it would be impossible for him not to see her sheltering in the doorway. She didn't want to shoot him without warning him, and she didn't want to give away her position. She realized she had few options.
She yelled out down the hallway in Spanish "Detener donde se encuentre! Polica! No te acerques mas!” Stop where you are! Police! Don't come any closer.
Mickey ducked back into the room as the men who remained at the far end of the hallway sent a hail of bullets from their assault rifles into the wall around the doorway Chips of plaster and wood flew through the air as the heavy rifle rounds penetrated the wall and tore into the wood door frame. Mickey hugged the floor as the projectiles ripped the air above her head. When the fusillade stopped she peaked back out the door and saw that the loan gunman who had been in the hallway had retreated to join his peers. Mickey recognized that the entire foray was designed to determine who was guarding the hallway and where they were located. They now knew she was in Cordone's suite and they probably were guessing that there was only one of her. They also knew that their adversary was a woman.
One of the men replied from their covered position in the stairwell, "Que te jodan! Puta!" Fuck off! Whore! This group of hard core miscreants had no more respect for cops, especially female cops, than the three she had dealt with earlier.
Now that they understood the situation, Mickey could hear low voices in the hallway, presumably determining a plan of action. She couldn't makeout what they were saying but it didn't matter to her. She did not have many options except to do her best and handle whatever came at her. She soon found out what the plan was; and it wasn't very sophisticated. The three thugs, yelling at the top of their lungs in Spanish, bounded out of the stairwell and charged down the corridor blasting away at the doorway where Mickey was sheltering. Mickey kneeled low in the doorway. Again most of the unaimed shots passed harmlessly overhead while a few chewed into the hallway floor tiles. They were close though that she could hear and feel the air sizzle as the bullets traveling a supersonic speed passed within inches above her head. She ignored the shower of plaster and wood that erupted whenever a round tore through the room wall. The noise of the three automatic rifles cycling through 60 bullets in just a few seconds was also deafening. Taking a deep steadying breath, the petite undercover officer leaned into the hallway on one knee, raised the Beretta into firing position, and calmly returned fire.
The Berretta barked three times. Mickey centered the sights on her targets and pulled the trigger so quickly that the three reports sounded like one. Again, as with the first three assailants, the three bullets was all that was needed to send the three screaming firing men tumbling down to the floor of the hallway, adding their blood to the tile already covered by thick red stains.
DeSalvo peered from the stairwell and unseen by Mickey took careful aim. Mickey, kneeling with only her left side and the pistol exposed scanned for more targets. She spotted DeSalvo in a similar crouched firing position peeking out of the stairwell entry. He had not been one of the three attacking her in the open. Just as her brain recorded the new threat DeSalvo's Glock fired four rounds as quickly as he could pull the trigger. Three bullets whizzed passed Mickey harmlessly, but a fourth plowed through her upper left arm.
Mickey pressed the trigger on her Beretta as she was already hearing the booming of DeSalvo's automatic. Suddenly her body was vilently spun halfway around and she felt as though a hot poker was run through her left arm. A blazing white hot pain shot up from her arm as the force of the bullet and the blinding pain disoriented her and caused her to fall out of the doorway into the hallway. Another blinding shock of pain tore through her as she landed on her side in the hallway, her weight driving the wounded arm into the hard tile floor. She had to fight to remain conscious. The nerve shocking pain forced her to grunt in agony and her right hand dropped her Berretta.
For a few second she lay in the middle of the hallway stunned and barely conscious of anything except the burning fire in her arm that made it impossible to think. Slowly she was able to grit her teeth and force her mind to refocus. The first thing she was conscious of was hearing DeSalvo call for additional reinforcements on his radio. She forced her eyes open only to find the gang leader standing over her. Mickey shook her head and groaned in pain and at the realization that her Beretta has slipped from her grasp.
"Puta!" DeSalvo spat the word as he stood above her and stared down at her predicament, his handsome face twisted in fury. He held his big Glock automatic in one hand aimed steadily at her head. They both glanced at her gun lying a few feet away and came to the same conclusion: there was no way for Mickey to reach it before DeSalvo opened fire with his. Mickey looked up into his hard eyes as DeSalvo's ugly grimace slowly transformed into an evil grin.
The 20th in the "Vice" series. Click below to see the start of the series or the previous installment
egining of the Story:
Previous Chapter 19:
See the folder in my gallery for the complete story so far, in order.(Let me know if you'd like to read and see more of Patrol Officer Mickey's adventures )
Daz3D->Reality->Lux render with a V4 model.