I’m Detective Danger

Introduction

Franklin Steve was nicknamed "Danger" because it followed him everywhere he went. From his time as a small child, fighting his bullies, he attracted violence. He grew to embrace it, and that is how he became a head detective at the Los Angeles Police Department. He had been a police officer for two years before climbing the ladder to junior detective, then detective, and finally, head detective of the homicide department, specializing in the field of serial killers. He had a partner, Jennifer "Ace" Smith. Why was her nickname "Ace"? She was a crack shot. They had worked over 100 cases together.

Chapter 1

Today, they were working on a gnarly case. This man had killed three women, and a fourth had been kidnapped. They caught a break when he used his credit card at a gas station. Steve and Smith were driving after them.

"George Rippert was a monster. He tortured those three women before killing them," said Smith. Steve had little to say on the matter. He wasn't normally this quiet. "We'll get him" was all he had to say. His mind was elsewhere. The mountains were close beside them, with a wooded grove separating the road from the monumental crags.

There was a Hyundai on the side of the road, smoke pouring from the engine. As they drove up to it, Smith radioed for backup. They stopped about 500 feet away and got out. Steve walked up to it and looked in – nothing. He signaled "all clear" to Smith. The woods seemed eerie to the two detectives as the sun was getting low, casting shadows around them. Smith was unsure what to do. "Should we wait for backup?" she asked Steve. "No, we need to find that girl ASAP," he answered. They grabbed their flashlights and pulled out their guns.

The trees were thick and tall. When they were about a quarter of a mile in, they heard a high-pitched scream. They heard her yell "Let go of me!" Steve knew exactly which way the scream came from, and he began to run, with Smith close behind. They had only gone 20 feet in the direction of the screams when they saw a light flashing up ahead. They saw a cave on the side of the mountain. Steve ran up to it and shone his light in. "There she is, tied up!" Smith said. The girl had been bound up and gagged. Smith ran towards her. An uneasy feeling began to build in Steve's stomach. "No!" he shouted.

Rippert appeared in front of them, gun in hand. Smith shot it out of his hand and Rippert backed up immediately. "Why did you say no? I've got this!" said Smith.

"You're getting cocky." Steve replied, "The girl is gagged, where did the scream come from?"

Boom! A gunshot hit Smith square in the jaw. She crumpled. Steve spun around toward the entrance of the cave. Another woman stood there, blocking his exit. "So I guess this was your plan all along?" he said to Rippert and his unexpected partner. Rippert gripped his bloody hand. He was behind Steve, and Steve didn't like his chances.

"AH!" Steve shot his gun several times in a row at the female accomplice. She shielded herself with her arms, but it did no good. She dropped her gun and fell to the floor. Rippert grabbed Steve from behind, held a gun to his head, and said, "You're a dead pig."

The next thing Steve remembered was waking up in the hospital. He wasn't fully awake the first few times that he gained consciousness. He fully woke up at one point because of the pain in his skull.

"What happened?" Steve asked. He could see figures, but everything was foggy and unintelligible. A doctor in a lab coat walked over to his bedside.

"Hello Frank, I am Doctor Wallace," She said to him. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"I feel like I fell off the back of a bumpy wagon going 50 miles per hour and then was run over by its wheels. How long have I been out?"

"I'm so sorry, Frank; we contacted your two sisters as soon as you got here. You have sustained an incredible injury to the brain. Unfortunately, a lot of it was inoperable, but we gave you a steel plate to replace your crushed skull."

"Smith," said Steve. "Where is my partner?"

Dr. Wallace looked him in the eye. "She is going to be fine, but her face has gone through so much trauma that she will be in this hospital for a lot longer than you will be."

"But I was shot in the head as well. What does that mean for my recovery?" asked Steve.

"Although both of you were in real danger for a few days, Jennifer Smith was shot in the face and jaw, which required massive reconstructive surgery. You were shot in the side of the head, so, while traumatic, it was a simple matter of adding your steel plate. If I were you, I wouldn't worry about anything besides feeling better for the next few weeks. Getting shot at point-blank range is nothing to sneeze at for either of you," said Dr. Wallace. Steve was tired. The first week all he did was sleep. By the eighth day of rest, Steve felt like climbing the walls. He had a lot of time to ponder. By the end of the second week, he was able to get up and wander the hospital. He used his walker to go to Smith's room. When he walked into her room, Smith was lying on her bed. Her face was wrapped in a thousand bandages.

"Hey there stranger," he said.

She couldn't move, but her eyes moved to meet his.

"I'm thankful for another chance at life, but I wish you could go back to work with me, partner. Dr. Wallace gives me two months inpatient, and another month outpatient. Short time if you think about it." He scratched at his beard, a thoughtful look on his face. "In three months I will be back on the force. We'll get there together, Jen."

He got up and walked back to his room.