This post contains a fair amount of police codes, the meanings of which I have listed at the bottom of the post.
A bullet whizzed past Wesley’s left ear and he saw it flattened itself against a pile of scrap metal. Wesley kept running but took a brief glance to his right, to look at from where he thought the bullet had been fired. All he could see was a short, burly man holding a pistol in his hand, trying to find a good aim again. He wore a green shirt, with lighter green stripes and black trousers. He had a cap on his head. Wesley lowered his head as another bullet flew past him. Wesley tried not to lose sight of who he was chasing while turning around corners.
“Tango come in. What’s your 10-20?,” Wesley bellowed into the CB radio.
“10-76! 10-76! ETA one minute! Hang in there Alpha!” came the reply from the other end.
“Shit.” Wesley shoved the CB radio back into its holster on his belt, on his left flank.
Wesley was showing signs of fatigue. He had been running around for the last twenty minutes. He had gotten quite close to the one he was chasing. He pulled out his gun and took aim.
“Give it up Morgan! You stop right now, and I can guarantee I won’t shoot you down. You don’t stop, I guarantee I will.” Wesley declared.
“Not a chance in hell, Officer. I ain’t stopping now. You’re going to shoot me down anyways.” Morgan took a swift turn to the left and disappeared. Wesley didn’t see him anywhere. “Goddamnit!” Wesley said, irritated. Then, he heard footsteps above him and he saw Morgan climbing a small metal staircase. Wesley tried to shoot but immediately realised its futility and started sprinting again.
The alarm was blaring by now and all workers in the factory had abandoned their posts and were evacuating, thanks to the little bullet – fest that Morgan, Wesley and the other pistol – wielding Samaritan had. One worker was severely injured and just barely managed to limp out.
Wesley was beginning to give up. Morgan was just too fast for him. Just then his radio crackled.
“Alpha! Alpha come in! Tango is 10-23 on roof of Zenta Car Factories. Acknowledge.”
“10-80. The bastard’s heading straight for the roof. Hold your fire when he gets there. I repeat. HOLD YOUR FIRE! But do not let him get away. Subdue but do not kill. Acknowledge. Over”
Wesley looked up. Morgan was just about ten to twelve steps ahead of him. Wesley took out his gun. He aimed at Morgan’s leg and fired. He couldn’t get it right because Morgan was climbing very swiftly but the second bullet he fired pierced Morgan’s right knee. He stumbled but kept going on. His grit surprised Wesley.
Wesley saw Morgan get to the top and disappear to the right, where he thought the door to the roof might be. A few seconds later Wesley got to the top and the next thing he knew, he was down lying on the floor. He was completely dazed and didn’t know what happened. Blood was trickling down from his nostrils. He probably had a dislocated nasal bone.
“Get up Wesley! Get up and fight me!”
“Good move Morgan. But you know I’m going to kick your ass.”
“The training sessions don’t count, Wes.”
Wesley swung his fist at Morgan’s face but missed.
“Too predictable!” hissed Morgan.
Wesley kicked and hit Morgan in the stomach, who reeled backwards clutching at his abdomen but recovered quickly enough to swerve from Wesley’s punch which still grazed him on his left chin. It was Morgan’s turn now. He punched at Wesley’s face and hit him just above his left eye. Wesley cried out in agony and pain.
Morgan used the moment and pushed Wesley against the wall, literally. He kept him there and pressed against his neck to try and suffocate him. Wesley’s right hand was under the weight of Morgan. He used his free hand to take jabs at Morgan’s chest and stomach and he punched as hard as he could. Morgan let out a cry on the impact of each punch but showed no signs of letting go. Wesley was having a lot of trouble breathing. He could see the door to the roof about twenty feet to his right. He began kicking wildly at Morgan’s body and after a couple of tries he hit the G-spot, his crotch. Morgan went down to the ground clutching his crotch tightly. He started ejecting expletives in sheer pain.
Wesley drew his gun from its holster in a move so swift it could probably rival Django’s gun – retrieval move from Django Unchained. He held Morgan by the neck and made him stand up. He looked for a weapon in his pocket and put the gun he found, in his own back pocket. Morgan was still holding onto his crotch and crying.
“That f***ing hurt, you bastard!” Morgan continued hurling curses.
“Sorry Morgan, but here friendship doesn’t count.” Wesley replied curtly.
Wesley began dragging Morgan to the roof door. Morgan was apparently too incapacitated to even give a fight.
“Tango, Alpha approaching roof door with unarmed culprit, codename Minos. Hold fire. 10-0, 10-0! Acknowledge.”
“10-4, Alpha. Holding fire.”
Wesley pushed the door open and shouted out, “Hold your fire, people!” loud and clear. He knew the importance of this guy being taken in alive.
He dragged Morgan out onto the roof and the scene was a stark opposite of what was inside the factory. One police helicopter hovered over the roof and two news helicopters could be seen a little higher and a little away from the scene, presumably because they hadn’t been allowed closer. One police helicopter sat on the roof. Two armed FBI officers in full tactical gear sat in the open helicopter with their guns firmly pointed at Morgan. CB radios could be heard crackling all over and that paired with the noise of the helicopters in the air and the vehicles on the ground, made for a scene of utter bedlam.
Wesley signaled, and three officers immediately ran up and handcuffed Morgan. Wesley held Morgan by his left hand and another officer held him by the right hand, as they all walked up to the helicopter. Wesley’s SAC (Special Agent In-Charge) patted him on the back.
“Good work, son.”
Wesley nodded in reply. He knew the job wasn’t done. Not yet.
The SAC went ahead and took his seat in the helicopter between the two armed officers.
Just as the trio of Morgan, Wesley and the officer on the right side were getting to the helicopter, Morgan kicked the officer to his right, in his knee and immediately headbutted Wesley on his forehead. Both fell to the ground. A shot was fired and Morgan was hit in his right shoulder and was pushed to the ground by the force of the bullet. As he fell, the chain round Morgan’s neck, one that everybody had managed to miss, slipped up to his mouth and with minimal struggle, he was able to push the capsule hanging from it, into his mouth and down his throat.
“Do we f***ing have a doctor here?” Wesley was infuriated, and at the same time, devastated.
“Goodbye, Wesley,” said Morgan, with just about a tinge of remorse in his voice, despite the circumstances.
Police Codes (in order of appearance)
10-76: En route…
10-23: Arrived at scene
10-80: Chase in progress
10-2: Signal good
10-4: Acknowledgement (Okay)
Liked Chapter One? Want to know what happens next? Hop on to Chapter Two then! Click here.