Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
I chose not to give them any more thought than necessary after he left, since all that did these days was piss me the fuck off and take me out of my zone. I couldn’t afford to give them anything of myself I was already stretched thin as it is.
I wrote up the paperwork for the bust from earlier tonight with a bitter taste in my mouth. This one was just a low rung henchman but he was still part of the organization I was working hard to bring down.
It had taken a lot of hard work but I was able to piece together who had put the hit out on me. Since then I’ve been picking them off one by one. Who wasn’t dead was looking at a long stretch behind bars. But the main guy, the one who’d orchestrated everything, him I was saving for last.
Carlo Rossi was the head of one of the deadliest gangs in the city. He hid what he was behind thousand dollar suits and capped tooth smiles. The greasy fuck.
He moved in the proverbial right circles, and money changed hands so those who should know better would look the other way. I had something for their ass too.
He’d risen to the top quickly by being vicious. Taking out his enemies without a thought, and anyone else who got in his way. Nothing ever stuck though, those who weren’t too afraid to speak against him in court, ended up dead. dpgroup
But I guess when you’re untouchable that shit becomes child’s play. He was also smart; having studied the system in the fancy law school his father had sent him to, which gave him an edge on the competition.
His ruthlessness was only surpassed by his cunning, and that’s what had kept him flying under the radar for as long as he had before I caught on.
As Lieutenant of the narcotics vice squad, it had been my job to search out and get rid of drug traffickers in the city. No small tasks these days since everyone and their grandmother was a pusher, literally.
Unlike my predecessors who’d barely put a dent in the mountain of files we had on the criminal element, I decided to dig deeper. To stop focusing on the bottom feeders who stood on street corners slinging their crap, or the ones who were supplying on a local level.
I wanted to strike the beast at the head and not waste my time cutting off middle men who had nothing to do with how the drugs were actually ending up on our streets.
I was making good headway too. My men were getting the job done and the public citizens who only wanted to live a life of peace without the threat of gunfire or their sixteen- year old son or daughter ODing on drugs were starting to come forward with information that proved helpful.
They were no longer afraid to come forward once it became evident that the force was actually trying to help, instead of being part of the problem.
Dirty ass cops always made it hard for the good ones. But once people realized there was a shift, things had started to move in our favor. I was taking drugs off the streets in a higher rate than even I had anticipated.
That’s when I’d come to their attention, when they’d sat up and took notice. When the target had been drawn on my back.
I didn’t let that stop me though; it came with the job. I’d only gone harder, and once the end was in sight, I dug in my heels and forged on full speed ahead.
But then things had gone to shit in a basket and I knew without a doubt that someone had sold me out. Someone who was supposed to have my back had stuck a knife in it. And my family had paid the price, my wife and innocent little boy.
I’d buried my grief in anger and a few pints of whiskey. The hate had only clouded my judgment and held me prisoner for as long as it was all I felt. But once the fog had cleared I’d got to work on a plan.
I knew these fucks like I knew my own skin since I’d been studying them for the last year and a half or so, ever since they came on my radar. Back then I had to play by the rules and the wheels of justice tend to go real slow.
The asshole D.A. refused to make a move unless I handed him the fuckers on a platter. Nobody wanted to do the work anymore. They all wanted everything tied up neatly with a bow on top.
Every time I went to him he had an excuse as to why it was too soon to go after the man that we all knew was responsible for the worse crime wave to hit the city in decades.