The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission by Raymond Klein (good books to read for women TXT) 📗

It was dark by the time Jeff Trent and Genghis Khan left Jennifer’s. She told them that she didn’t feel like working tomorrow and they could come by anytime with the pictures. She gave Jeff a hug, and Genghis too, before they departed.

They were driving back to their apartment. The top of the Thunderbird was down and the stars were bright. Genghis asked for his computer to be brought up and it diligently obliged.

He did a quick check on the status of the cruiser, then brought up a screen with multiple views of the different surveillance cameras in Old Town. Some showed the staticky snow of a functioning Electronic Pulse Interrupter while some were operating as normal. Then a thought came to him.

“You know,” Genghis said, “why don’t we use the Interrupter to our advantage?”

“How do you mean?” Jeff asked.

“Well, if the Interrupter is always on and disrupting cameras in a three block radius, then why not use those cameras to track Valda? We drive around Old Town like we did today but this time, see which cameras are working and which aren’t.”

“And that way,” Jeff added, “if he’s on the move, then cameras that were working will stop operating and we can narrow down his approximate location.” Trent looked at the Doberman Pinscher sitting in the passenger seat and . “Brilliant, Mister Khan! I knew there was a reason why I recommended you for this mission.”

Genghis rolled his eyes. “Oh! Pa-leazze, Mister Trent! You are such a biped.”

The following morning they were up and driving the roads of Old Town. There was a three-block radius of the Compton Square district of town with non-functioning cameras. “He’s here,” Genghis said. “Now we just have to wait and see what his next move will be.”

“You know,” Jeff added,  “while we’re here, let's go over to Twinkie’s and show her the photos of Colus.”

“Yeah, and why don’t we stop at that store on the way and pick her up a couple of things? Pick her up some coffee. She likes coffee.”

Jeff Trent looked at his partner and saw again that look in his canine eyes. He thought to himself that Genghis had found another girl to desperately try to help. “That’s a good idea, Genghis. Why don’t we?”

Trent knew that his partner was trying again to compensate for what happened on Ashlar five years before The Great Fire of 4045. They were both involved in the Prodor Moffit case when the call came in. A robbery gone bad with the perpetrator panicking and taking a hostage, a fourteen-year-old girl. Jeff's partner, now known to this world as Genghis Khan, at that time was also part of the special hostage strike team known as the Hostage Recovery Unit, in between his detective work with Trent, called upon when needed. He was their lead sniper.

When Genghis and the rest of the HR Unit arrived, IPF negotiators were trying desperately to talk the suspect into surrendering, but the situation was quickly getting out of hand. The suspect was in the middle of the road that was cordoned off, his arm was around the girl's neck, gun to her head. He was shouting at the police who surrounded him to back off. Swinging himself around, not wanting to expose his back for any extended period of time to an agent who would take the initiative to end the standoff. He was frantic, looking from one angry face to another, gun to the girl's head then pointing it at the IPF and then back to the girl. She was exhausted and could barely stay on her feet while he swung her around like a rag doll. She was hysterically crying and calling to her mother who was being restrained back by two agents. She was in tears telling her daughter that everything would be okay. Shouts for him to drop the gun were going back and forth. His crazed replies were beginning to make no sense at all. The situation was rapidly deteriorating.

Genghis had already situated himself on a rooftop and was viewing the standoff through the scope of his Volcker 9 sniper rifle. The scope was equipped with a video output that transmitted everything that was viewed through it to the command center where the supervisors could evaluate the ongoing scenario. The suspect still had a firm grip around the girl's neck, but had slid her to his side exposing himself to a shot. Genghis radioed down to his supervisors that he had a clean shot, which all the supervisors agreed that he did. It was time to end this. They gave him the go ahead to take the shot.

He steadied his breathing and slowed his heart rate. The suspect was moving too erratically for a headshot so the cross hairs of Genghis's scope were targeting critical mass, the center of the man’s chest. He momentarily held his breath and squeezed the trigger. And at that precise moment the suspect made another erratic move to his left, inadvertently putting the fourteen-year-old girl into the crosshairs. The round struck her in the head splattering warm blood onto the man’s face. She went limp and slipped from his arm crumpling to the ground. The gunman was dumbfounded to see his shield gone, then he made a fatal error. He swung around with a look of uncertainty on his face and pointed his gun at the IPF agents who surrounded him. A cacophony of gun fire filled the air as the IPF opened fire. He jerked with the impact of rounds that ripped through his body. Quarter size holes erupted in his chest and lower abdomen. One round went through his throat stifling any sound that he may have produced. They continued to fire until the threat was neutralized.

Genghis was numb, he had no feeling in his extremities and could not fathom what he viewed through his scope. The gun fire echoing from below was deafening, but the only thing he could hear was the