magnum enforcer iii

LP and I got rip roarin drunk on the stakeout. We shared some laughs while we sat on a rooftop in Culver City over night. We watched the airplanes fly overhead as they began their descent into LAX.

“You know,” LP said. “I watched this city go to hell in a hand basket. When I joined the force, I wanted to serve my community. I wanted to do some good. Instead the city got worse.”

“The city’s always been a shithole, LP,” I replied.

“20 years I’ve been a cop. I’m really looking forward to retirement.”

I took a big hit off the Evan Williams green label and handed it over. “Just take a knee for the rest of your career,” I said. “Pick up your retirement check and take Stacy to Jamaica like you’ve always wanted. You’re just one man, you can’t change this city. No one can.”

“You’re right.”

LP looked down the scope of the M82 sniper rifle. Something caught his eye.

“Hey James, check this out. Get one hand free.”

As I peeped out through a windows cross the street, there was a woman decked out in BDSM whipping some poor sap with a contraption over his cock.

“That’s disgusting LP.”

He laughed and looked back through the scope. “Oh yeah! I wish Stacy would do that to me!”

LP’s finger slipped and he accidentally fired a round. The glass to the woman’s window shattered and the bullet hit the man on his bare ass.

“What are you doing LP?”

“Sorry. Got trigger happy,” he replied with a smile.

I looked up to the roof of the woman’s building and there was a sniper pointing his rifle at us.

“Get down LP!”

We dropped to the ground and the sniper opened fire. “Give me your 357, James. I’m going after him,” LP said. “Stay up here and return fire.”

LP ran down the fire escape and into the building next door. As the sniper reloaded, I got up and fired several shots. When I looked back through the scope, no one was there.

I took out a 9mm and ran down the stairs. As I approached the building, the sniper ran out the front door and fired his pistol in my direction.

Just then, Officer Maxwell pulled up in his patrol car. “Go check on LP,” I commanded. “He’s inside!”

I chased after the perpetrator. When I got a clear shot, I fired indiscriminately in his direction and emptied the clip. However, I lost him down the dark alleyways of Culver City.

I ran back to the building. “I’m sorry James,” Officer Maxwell said. There in the stairwell was LP’s lifeless body.

He was stabbed in the throat. I picked up the 357 from LPs hands. He didn’t get a shot off.

“Did you get a look at the killer,” Maxwell asked.

I shook my head.

“The chief’s gonna be pissed,” he replied.

I returned to City Hall. It was still dark. I was looking for the mystery officer I threatened to shoot on the toilet earlier.

He was sneaking around the bushes. He was looking for a place to piss. When I tackled him, his dick was still out and piss went everywhere. I put the 357 to his forehead.

“LP is dead,” I said.

“I had nothing to do with that!”

“Who does?!”

“I ain’t telling you shit!”

I cocked the 357. “Listen here mother fucker,” I said. “I’m clinically insane. Have you never heard of me? I’ve probably killed 152 people and I’m ready to kill the 153rd. If you don’t give me a name, I’ll splatter your brains all over City Hall. Do not play with me!”

The mystery man finished pissing himself. “Alright alright,” he said. “Look, there’s a man named Charles Krauthammer. He lives in the basement at a strip club in Long Beach. He might be your man.”

“How do you know him?”

“I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me.”

I let the man go and wrote him a citation.

“What’s this for,” he asked.

“Now that I’m a cop, I’m giving you a citation for public indecency. Have fun on the sex offender registry. I’ll see you in court.”

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