Bill was off duty around 11 a.m. driving to Union Station. He is stopping by to check their little drug operation they have running with building security. Normally he would not do this type of business with security officers from a private firm. These guys are usually too undisciplined, undertrained and unfit for this type of thing. However, he’d served in the Army with the head of building security. Guy was named Gilroy and he’d pulled many of Bill’s old unit as security officers. Basically they sold the drugs Bill supplied. It wasn’t a bad set up if you thought about it. They knew where all the cameras were placed at and could easily avoid them. They had high-class customers who didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves and wouldn’t be causing problems or trying to rob anybody. Of course, the owners of the building got their cut without knowing any specifics.
Bill could let them know to lay low if there were any type of investigation from the police or FBI. His information network was that good. He knew about any investigation going on in the city. Hell, that Dudley Do-Right superintendent couldn’t catch him for shit. The officers who had been caught were too stupid to take his warning to lay low. Bill heads through the revolving doors and into the security office.
“How’s it going Gilroy?”
“Been doing well, Bill, cannot complain.”
“I’m just stopping by to see if you’ve got any questions or concerns or problems that you need solved. Everything has been good, clientele is happy, the crew is happy, and management is happy. Wait one second, what is this? What’s going on?” One of the cameras in the management office showed some action outside.
Some white trash redneck is laying the smack down on his girlfriend. It was indeed a large, heavyset white male wearing faded blue jeans, white gym shoes and black shirt.
“Excuse me, Bill, I need to take care of this.”
“No, let me Gilroy, I haven’t had any fun for days.”
“Whatever you say, you’re the man with the plan.”
Bill blows out of the office, startling onlookers in the large hallways of Union Station. He goes through the revolving door at breakneck speed, knocking a few people on their butts; Big Buck, as Bill has named him in his mind, has his car parked on the north plaza before you get to the stairs. Bill decides to try and do this by the book because of so many witnesses standing around outside. He pulls out his badge and makes sure everyone in plain view can see it. “Police, freeze, you’re under arrest!” Big buck stops smacking his sobbing and bloodied girlfriend for a second and looks at Bill.
“Man, fuck you, I’m out of here pig!”
Big Buck jumps in his car and starts to pull off. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Bill runs after him and jumps on top of the vehicle’s hood, holding on for dear life. Big Buck goes flying down Madison Avenue, zigging and zagging all over the place trying to shake Bill off the hood of the car. Bill could easily shoot this guy if he wanted to, but he was actually enjoying the ride. A nice sunny day with a good breeze, plus a crazed redneck. What else could a person possibly ask for? He’s at Madison and Halsted now, and Bill gets a good grip on the hood with his left hand. What he planned on doing would be too much for a regular guy, but with his martial arts training he was used to smashing hard objects with fast blows. He draws back with his right arm, smashes and puts it through the windshield. Bill grabs the steering wheel and forces the vehicle off the road to his left. The vehicle smashes into a light pole, making a loud sound like an anvil being dropped on concrete.
Big Buck jumps from the vehicle and and starts to run towards the bus stop across the street, maybe hoping to make a getaway by bus. Bill jumps down from the hood to give chase. His arm is already swelling, but he won’t need it for this punk. Bill tackles Big Buck from behind, taking out his legs. It would have been an illegal tackle if he still were playing football. Jumping to his feet Bill kicks Big Buck in the face with his left foot before he can get up. He could finish it here, but let’s Big Buck get up so he can knock him back down again. Big Buck gets up and starts throwing punches, which Bill easily slaps away using just his right hand. Normally he’d use different combinations of wrestling, karate kung fu or boxing to take this guy out. but his bum arm had taken away a number of options, so it was time to finish this quick. Bill kicks Big Buck in the stomach with his left foot, sending him falling back and creating some space. Big Buck gets back up cursing, and charges toward Bill, who kicks him in the forehead with his right foot. The bottom of his foot connects with such speed that his leg is just a blur and snaps Big Buck’s head back. Big Buck goes down on his knees gasping for breath.
“So you like beating on bitches, you little pussy? Well, you’re my bitch now! Stop wheezing and get up so I can beat that ass some more bitch!”
Big Buck wisely stays on his knees gasping for air and coughing. Bill can’t help laughing at the wheezing sound Big Buck is making. Bill would keep beating his big white ass, but thinks better of it. Too many witnesses have gathered around him, not to mention a camera crew was pulling up. Who knows how many people had cameras, cellphones or even video cameras. Way too many officers had been caught like that. They didn’t seem to understand that the same advanced technology that helps catch thugs and criminals could also be used against them. This is the type of situation Bill lived for, beating the bad guy and being the hero to the masses. After everything was sorted out, he would be on magazines and newspapers for defending a little white woman from the Big Bad Wolf. He couldn’t have planned this situation better himself. He talks to an officer responding to the situation, and finds out that an ambulance had been called for the beaten girl back at Union Station. She, of course, wanted to press charges and personally thank Bill when she got the chance.
Just then, an attractive young Asian woman sticks a microphone in Bill’s face.
“Officer, can you give any information about what happened here?”
“All I can say I was responding to an attack on a young lady. When I went to make an arrest, the alleged attacker fled and I gave chase.”
“Officer Bill, can you give any more information such as the lady’s name and why she was attacked?
“I can’t say too much Miss Chung as the case is pending. However, you can speak to the media department when they have something to release.”
“Sir, many here consider you a hero, do you agree with that statement?”
“I just do my job Miss Chung, if others want to consider me a hero then it’s up to them. I’m just a good cop doing his job.”
Bill walks away from Miss Chung, and gets in the ambulance. They would have to look at the swelling in his right arm. Miss Chung had basically said what he wanted her to say without him tooting his own horn. She’d interviewed people who would give her the story. Not to mention talking to the Chicago Police Department. Most police departments had specific staff to deal with media these days. Media could easily give out a negative or positive spin on police behavior. Having an adversarial relationship with the media didn’t really benefit the police department. What a day this had turned out to be. He could already see Dudley Do-Right grinding his teeth when he found out who the heroic officer was.
At home watching his favorite show, Supernatural, on DVD, Psycho is bored out of his skull. It was time to have some fun, but what? He could go and harass that stupid preacher next door. Maybe arrest some thug or smoke some weed with his boy Josh at the funeral home. Wait, an idea just hit him just now. He used to date some chick in a condominium building at 444 West Fullerton years ago. Before they broke up he swiped a few keys from behind the security desk in the lobby. This security firm was so bad they actually had the unit numbers on the keys themselves. There was no camera at the desk and the officers on duty constantly walked off post. Sometimes he’d caught them sleeping in the fitness room or the bathroom. This security firm really sucked, but that was okay as it made it easier for him to have fun. He’d go back to that building and terrorize some of those middle class pussies living there. So what to we
ar to disguise himself? He would need a disguise good enough that no one would recognize him. He gets his fake blond wig with long hair, a pair of black shades. That way the officer on duty wouldn’t be able to know his eye color. Last, but not least, his fake foam beer gut. He loved wearing this one as it always threw people off. Platform shoes were also an option. He would look a good foot taller and really throw people off.
Psycho jumped in one of his old, beat up cars and took off. Night would be the best time to do this, so he waited. Driving to 444 West Fullerton, he gets out of his vehicle and walks through the revolving lobby door. The heavyset white female door woman doesn’t even bother asking him if he lives there or not. This is way too easy for his liking. There needs to be a little conflict for there to be any fun. He stops and reads her name tag on the left side of her suit jacket.
“Hello there, Rachel? Got anything good to eat tonight?”
“No sir, don’t you have your own food?”
“Bitch! If I had my own food why the hell would I be asking you?”
“Sir, I don’t appreciate being talked to like that.”
“Bitch, I pay your fucking salary and I’ll say what the fuck I want to say!”
“What unit do you stay in sir?”
“Oh my god, I’ve been living here for six months and you still don’t know me. Fucking garbage-ass rent-a-cops!!”
He walks off towards the elevators and stops by the elevator doors. He waits for a few minutes and walks back towards the security desk to harass Rachel some more.
“Bitch, you’re full of shit! You don’t love me.”
Rachel gets out of her seat and motions for Psycho to lower his volume. “Please calm down sir, and tell me what the problem is.”
“The problem is that you’re full of shit, bitch!”
“Please calm down, sir.”
“You calm down bitch! I don’t calm down for bitches who don’t love me.”
“Sir, I’m not here to love you.”
“Bullshit, you’re security, and you’re not making me feel secure right now. Fuck this shit, I’m going to my unit you fat bitch. He rides the elevator to the 15th floor and goes to unit 1510. The owner of this unit was rarely home and didn’t associate much with the people in the building. Not many people knew who he was and wouldn’t know that Psycho wasn’t him. He knew this from the times he had visited his former girlfriend here in the building. The broad had been a busybody who was always into everybody’s business and kept up with people’s comings and goings. Fucking with that piglet downstairs had been fun. But this is where the fun would really begin. He remembered a tall blonde chick that lived in unit 1502 down the hall. He goes to her door and starts kicking it rapidly.
“Who is that, stop kicking my door you idiot!”
“Open this fucking door and give me some pussy you tall-ass bitch!”
“Get away from door before I call security, you creep. Fuck suckcurity, you Jolly Green Giant looking bitch! That’s why you look like a fucking man. Come on out and I’ll bend that ass over and ride you like a giraffe.”
She was good to her word and called the front door security officer. Rachel did come upstairs a few minutes later with a large African American male about six foot, 10 inches, heavyset. He was wearing an all black uniform and a gun at his side. Rachel must have called her security company rather than the police. Reading his nametag Psycho sees the big black guy’s name is Commander Johnson. Commander Johnson advances two feet towards Psycho, but still keeps him at arm’s length.
“All right, sir, were getting complaints that you’re harassing people.” Commander Johnson points at him and speaks in a loud, booming voice meant to intimidate. What’s your name and what unit do you live in?”
“I live in unit 1510 and my name is Mr. Big Dick!”
“Okay, Mr. Big Dick, will you please go in your unit now?” Commander Johnson points his finger at unit 1510.
“Now I can’t do that yet Mr. Johnson. I’m seeing doubt in your face when I said my name is Mr. Big Dick. So I need to prove it. Psycho unzips his pants and pulls out his penis quickly. Rachel turns away and looks in the other direction. Commander Johnson focuses his attention on Psycho’s face rather than his penis. He’s smart enough not to turn his back on some one who is potentially violent. “Sir would you please zip your penis back up?”
“Not until you call me by my name, Mr. Big Dick!” Commander Johnson sighs and shakes his head. He wonders if he should start looking for a different type of job. “Okay, Mr. Big Dick, would you please go into your unit now?”
Psycho goes to the door, opens it, and goes all the way in except for his head. He lobs a huge head of spit in Rachel’s direction and slams the door shut. He looks through the peephole and sees Rachel wipe the spit off her face. “Ha, ha, ha, ha bitch! I got aids and you’re infected!” He runs to the back door, quickly undoes the locks and goes flying down the back stairs into the garage. It would most likely take the police 10-15 minutes to answer a nonemergency call like this. He’s down to the lower level ramp, past the bike rack and out the north garage door in a matter of minutes. He runs about four blocks down the street, and is pulling away in his car before anybody knows what the heck is going on. Leaving his engine running always helps getting away with crap like this. His car is parked out of the range of the cameras behind the building. He doubts that Rachel or Johnson identified it as his car. Even if the police did stop him, they’d just let him go. They wouldn’t arrest a fellow cop for this shit. Hell, they’d grab some homeless bum and pin the rap on him. However, he didn’t want to get caught as getting away with it was half the fun. Oh well, time to go home and get some rest. No doubt Bill would have something for him to do tomorrow.
Quinton is watching the morning news in his living room. He’d invited his ex- wife Alegría to Chicago for a few days. They’d went out for dinner and a movie. Every thing was going pretty well. They were sitting around talking about different things and channel surfing. Alegria notices the frown on his face and nasty demeanor.
“Quinton, what’s wrong honey?”
“Oh nothing, it’s just this Bill character.”
“What’s wrong with him, baby, he saved that girl from getting beat up?”
“It’s an act; Bill is really a lowdown dirty animal. It’s this facade that he puts out to the public. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, baby.”
“Are you sure that you are not a bit jealous of this Bill,” she says in a mocking tone. She notices the nasty look on his face and the veins on the right side of his face popping. He turns away from her looking at the picture on the wall of Bruce Lee. Quinton had many pictures of people who he felt were positive people who overachieved. He often found something else to focus on when someone was making him angry.
“Okay, Quinton, let’s not talk about this Bill anymore. You had something you wanted to talk to me about, right?”
“Well, yeah, I’ve been thinking about my life lately. Maybe I’ve become obsessed with my job. I’ve ruined our marriage because I put my job first. I was wondering if we could try getting back together.”
Alegria takes a moment to collect her thoughts; she hadn’t expected to be asked this particular question. They had these little get togethers often, but just as friends. She puts her hands on his and starts to speak softly in a low voice. “Baby, I still care about you. But as long as your job is your god, then the answer is no.”
“I’ll give up my job then.”
“Sure you will, Mr., sure you will.”
“Look at my face, do I look like I’m lying? As soon as my contract runs out I’m gone.”
“If you really give up the job then the answer is yes.”
He grabs her gently and hugs her against his chest, gently stroking her hair. He cuts the TV off; enough of Bill and his nonsense for one day. Right now he just wants to be close to Alegria. They sit in his living room for hours discussing plans on making up for lost time.
It’s been awhile since Red
had a day off. Even when he’s off he’s usually doing something for Bill. Might as well go see a movie he guesses. Movies were a big pastime of his. Next to fucking with white people, it was his favorite thing. He usually goes to the Oak Park Theatre on Lake Street. It’s one of those low- cost classic cinemas. Not a bad spot to relax and hangout. You had a number of restaurants and even a bookstore. Things had been going pretty well lately. The exception being some of his fellow officers getting fired our suspended. Guys like him and Bill were way to smart too get caught by that Dudley do right acting bitch though. Getting Nick the producer out of prison hadn’t been all that hard. All he had to do now was meet his contact, get treatment from the doc and start shooting again. All in all, everything was going according to plan.
Walking past a Border’s Bookstore, he sees a group of young white girls selling cookies. Red steps into the large crowd and buys four boxes. Unfortunately, the adult in the group went to get change. Young kids weren’t known for handling money well. They were putting all the money in a small blue bag, which was being put all over the place on their work table. Red reaches out quickly and grabs the bag, stuffing it into his black jacket pocket. He used to be a damn good pickpocket when he was a teenager. Of course, he only ripped white people off though. Hated those motherfuckers even when he was a kid. He quickly heads off down the street to the movie theatre. It’s about four or five blocks further down. He’d be watching his film before those white girls knew what hit them. He steps up to the clerk and pays with a grin on his face.
Abuse of Chikara (book 1) Page 7
