RAID

Bruce sat back down, his eyes never leaving Jacob's. The room was tense. Jones, standing to the side, crossed his arms and nodded to Jacob, urging him to begin.

Jacob took a deep breath and with a grim expression, he spoke, "Alright, I'll tell you everything. But you have to promise to keep my sister safe."

Bruce nodded, his face serious, "You have my word. Now, start from the beginning."

Jacob glanced at the men in suits surrounding him, then began to speak, "It started about a year ago. I was down on my luck, just out of rehab, trying to stay clean. But you know, the scent of alcohol... I just wanted a single drink. So, I was at the bar and this guy came to me. He was well-dressed and seemed kinda rich like you. His name is Marco. Said he had a business opportunity that could get me back on my feet."

'Haaa... Out of rehab and he went to drink. Just what the fuck is wrong with this guy or could it be that those guys at rehab didn't do their job properly,' Bruce thought.

"He offered me a job at a garage, you know the kind where big sports cars and all those high-tech cars come for a fix or other jobs... He said it was just moving some goods, you know car parts and all. He never mentioned drugs at first. I was desperate, so I took it. The pay was good, really good. But then, things changed. I found out what I was really transporting."

Jacob paused, his hands trembling slightly. "When I tried to back out, Marco made it clear that wasn't an option. They threatened my family. I had no choice but to continue. They kept me in line with threats and... I couldn't help but take a sniff..."

'Ah! This druggie bastard!' Bruce sighed, shaking his head.

Jones leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. Looking into Jacob's eyes, he asked, "Where is Marco now?"

"I don't know his exact location, but I know he operates out of a few places around Metropolis. There are three main hideouts: an old warehouse near the docks, a nightclub downtown called The Inferno, and a seemingly abandoned apartment complex in the outskirts."

Bruce nodded, "And the leader? Who's running the show?"

"Marco answers to a guy named Santiago. He's the real brains behind the operation. Ruthless, and he doesn't show his face often. Everything goes through Marco," Jacob answered.

Bruce turned to Jones, "Well, there you have it. I'm sure you know what to do, so, I'll just get out of your way and let you do your job. But, what are you going to do with him? Just look at his eyes, bastard can barely keep them open."

"That's druggie for you. Cut off their supply and they can't even function properly," Jones shrugged. "Don't worry about him, we'll handle him. There's a new rehab center for guys like these. It'll help him get back on his feet, but it'll take a while. It's the only thing we can do. Thanks, Bruce. We couldn't have done it without your help."

"Hey, just lending a helping hand to the city. Always happy to help," Bruce stood up. Then, looking at Jacob, he added with a smirk, "I sure do hope you enjoy the rehab. But this time if you fail, well, I'll take certain steps you won't like. I won't allow you to destroy Sophia's life any more than you already did. She's your sister for fuck's sake. Look out for her instead. Think of her as a reason for you to be a good man."

"Uhm, yes. Sure... Thanks," Jacob muttered.

Walking toward the door, Jones waved at Bruce, "Oh, Bruce..."

"Yes?" Bruce glanced at Jones.

"If all of this works out and I get that... ahem... promotion... You know, if you need a helping hand, just let me know anytime," Jones whispered, a slight smile forming on his face.

"Will keep that in mind," Bruce chuckled and stepped out.

.

.

Captain Jones stood at the center of the precinct, surrounded by his team of seasoned officers. The tension in the air was palpable. He had just briefed them on the intel and had Barbara hacked into the cartel's network. She found their exact locations and it matched Jacob's testimony. She also managed to get some more information about the goons working there, including details on Marco and Santiago. The clock was ticking, and they needed to move swiftly to dismantle the cartel before they could regroup or get wind of the impending raid.

"We've got three primary targets: the warehouse near the docks, The Inferno nightclub downtown, and the abandoned apartment complex on the outskirts," Jones began, his voice steady and commanding. "We'll hit them all simultaneously to prevent any chance of escape or communication between them."

His officers nodded in unison, their faces set in determination. Jones continued, "We have the element of surprise on our side. Our goal is to capture as many members as possible, especially Marco and Santiago. But as you can see from the CCTV footage Barbara hacked into, those places are swarming with criminals. Do NOT allow any of these fuckers to escape. Take them out at all costs and secure the place with everything you've got!"

The officers looked at him, their eyes burning with focus and resolve.

One of the senior officers, Detective Harris, spoke up, "What about civilians in the nightclub?"

"That's why we are hitting that place right now, in the morning hours when they will be empty and the chances ofcivilians will be low," Captain Jones said.

"What about the drugs and money?" Officer Janice asked. "The DEA will be all over the place if they get a sniff of it."

"Don't worry about the DEA, they don't even know about this situation. This time we'll get an upper hand over those arrogant bastards. After taking care of those criminals, we'll quickly round up all the drugs and money in a single place and call a press meeting. This time, it will be MPD and not the fucking DEA that takes home the cake and bragging rights," Jones declared firmly, eliciting several approving nods and murmured grunts. "It's time to wipe out the cartel in Metropolis before they can spread their branches throughout our beloved city."

The captain's eyes shone with steely resolve and maybe a little bit of greed for that promotion, but he was doing good work. The officers nodded silently.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the city as Captain Jones and his team geared up for the simultaneous raids on the cartel's three primary locations. Each officer double-checked their equipment, ensuring that their weapons were loaded and ready for action. Tension hung thick in the air.

In the unmarked vehicles parked outside the precinct, the officers sat in silence, their expressions focused. Jones glanced at his fellow officers, "Remember, stick to the plan. We hit hard and fast, no room for mistakes. Our priority is to take down Marco and Santiago and secure the premises. Let's show these bastards what the MPD is made of."

His words were met with nods of agreement as they prepared to depart for their respective targets. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the battle ahead. He knew the risks involved, but he was prepared to do whatever it took to bring down the cartel and protect his city.

.

.

At the warehouse near the docks, Detective Harris led the assault team and quickly secured the area, catching the criminals by surprise. Gunfire rang out across the docks as the officers exchanged fire with the drug traffickers, bullets whizzing through the air. Smoke filled the air as flashbang grenades were hurled through the window of the building.

There was little resistance as the officers systematically took out the drug dealers, one by one. The criminals didn't have the time to prepare. Soon, the last stand of the criminals was broken. Cuffs were slapped on each of them. Harris and his team did not hold back the grin forming on their faces. They didn't suffer much damage and no one was hurt from their side, but the same can't be said for the cartel members. With so many dead and arrested, they were certainly a few men short.

They quickly secured the drugs and money and brought them to the MPD. They came and gone just like that even before anyone in the DEA caught the scent and went sniffing for their cut. As the sun went higher up, they raided The Inferno as well. But unlike their earlier operation, the MPD here ran into heavy fire.

Janice shouted, holding onto her bleeding shoulder, "We're under heavy fire! Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Careful, these fuckers are trained!"

A rapid exchange of gunfire erupted, sending dust and debris flying through the air. As Janice and her team rushed to the cover, more officers ran forward in support. Returning fire, they quickly engaged the drug dealers in an intense firefight. With accurate shooting, the officers were able to pinpoint the criminals and take them out.

Six officers were injured, but nothing critical. A red streak threw them out of harm's way just in the nick of time, but they couldn't avoid injuries. While their opponents weren't so lucky either, losing a total of fourteen people in the firefight, they were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of law enforcement. They captured three drug operatives alive, including Marco, who surrendered peacefully, albeit with the clear understanding he would take a huge chunk of jail time. Santiago was nowhere to be found.

Bang! Bang! Janice shot Marco's legs while he was in handcuffs, earning her a furious glare, "Fuck, you! I surrendered, bitch! I had surrendered already!"

Janice kicked his stomach hard, "Six of my boys got shot because of you fucker." She kicked him a couple more times before turning around, "Troy," she turned toward a middle-aged officer with black hair and a large scar on his right cheek, "Use that old method. Pull out those bullets using a hot knife." She grabbed his shoulders, "Make sure he feels the pain. Get a statement out of him and kill him afterward. Make him suffer and bleed to his death," she ordered, glaring at the whimpering man lying on the floor.

She looked around for something. She was certain that she saw a red streak, saving her men, but it was nowhere to be seen, 'Flash?!'

"Yes, boss!" Troy grinned, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it on. "Died in encounter after shooting cops? Sure, why not," he said with a casual tone and walked closer to the wounded criminal. "Shouldn't have pissed the girl." He grabbed Marco by his hair and dragged him to the nearest room, "You see, a pissed-off girl is more dangerous than all the thugs you have ever dealt with combined."

Troy patted his pockets, looking for a cigarette lighter. He took it out and lit it with a small flame and placed it in the mouth.

And so, the torture began as Marco's screams echoed throughout the nightclub. The others carried the drugs and money back to the MPD and carried out the injured and dead comrades.

However, the same can't be said for Captain Jones who went to the abandoned complex on the outskirts.

The warehouse near the docks was an easy victory.

As Jones expected, the abandoned complex turned out to be the fortress of the cartel and they encountered strong resistance from the beginning. Santiago's men were waiting in ambush and a gunfight erupted almost immediately. To make things worse, the thugs looked too well-trained and had access to RPGs, grenade launchers, and mini-machine guns.

Jone's team couldn't even approach the perimeter. Their situation was too bad. His people were pinned down by a well-equipped and entrenched enemy and soon, more thugs began showing up. Jones sent for reinforcements, but they wouldn't make it in time.

Just when, he thought that it was over for him and his men, a flash of red streak zoomed past them and within the blink of an eye, all the enemies were lying on the ground, injured and unconscious. And the leader, Santiago, was taped to Jones' car like a dummy.

"Flash!" Jones's eyes widened as he saw Flash zip off before he could properly thank him or reward him.

Jones ignored the curious looks of his men and carefully walked toward the wounded criminals to check their injuries.

"Nothing critical. Round them up people, let's make sure they spend more years in jail," he ordered and walked up to the bound cartel leader. He smiled as he eyed Santiago, and then, he suddenly looked thoughtful. He stared intently into Santiago's eyes and said slowly and deliberately, "Since you're going to prison anyway, you can become our witness, the sole witness. We'll offer you protection, just testify against everyone. All of your underlings, superiors, everyone. I'm pretty sure there are superior fuckers behind you or else there isn't any way you could have gotten this much ammunition, drugs, men... Trained private mercenaries, no less..." He shrugged, "Do that and we'll be nice to you, and if not... Well, prison is quite a nasty place to live in."

Santiago glared at Jones, his lips drawn back into a snarl, "Fuck you, pig!"

"Humf!" Jones slammed his face with his handgun, breaking Santiago's teeth. He stared coldly at the blood-smeared drug boss and snarled, "Don't try my patience, you son of a bitch." He leaned in close, hissing through clenched teeth, "Or, nevermind, I'll take special care of you in a secret place where just you and us... We'll make sure to help you remember everything. Don't worry."

They cleared the place of drugs and money and brought them to MPD.

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Next, Ch: 172: Bruce meets Hippolyta

Ch: 173: A call from Pamela

Ch: 174: Trust 

Ch: 175: Sophia's dilemma

Ch: 176: Interlude- Anne's diary