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Description
“Senior.?”

The surprised guard turned to face the seductively smiling half nude dancer who had entered his leader’s suite just a few minutes before. He could hear the blaring dance music and see that the room was darkened behind her except for the pulsing blinding blue dance lights. He smiled as she crooked her finger and beckoned him into the room. Shrugging and wondering at his good fortune at being invited to enjoy his boss’s entertainment he stepped into the dark room. Less than five seconds later, after a well delivered sharp blow to the back of head by the butt of a Beretta automatic, he lay unconscious on the floor.

Mickey worked quickly after she closed the door. First, she walked briskly over to the room control panel and turned off the music and lights. Then she turned her attention to her ring. The ring was specially designed by the FBI as a combination burst transmitter and GPS. But it was a one shot device. Its tiny battery only had the power to execute one signal cycle. Mickey carefully turned the top portion of the ring a half turn clockwise. This connected the battery to the microchip circuit board inside the ring and set the ring for activation. She then depressed the stone which instantly sent out a single powerful radio pulse at a preset frequency tuned to an orbiting military satellite. The satellite then calculated the location of the sending device and relayed the exact coordinates to the FBI / Vice tactical team mobile command post in California, as well as to the FBI central command post in Washington. Within seconds of depressing the stone alarms sounded at both locations alerting police authorities that the retrieval signal had been received and giving them the GPS coordinates of Mickey's location.

Having sent the signal, Mickey noted a small indictor LED disguised inside jewel stone pulsed green twice and then went out. She remembered that that indicated the signal was successfully sent. The ring then deactivated, its battery life spent. Mickey now knew that help was on its way. She also knew, based on information she had acquired from Dr. Greene, that she was located about thirty miles outside of San Diego in a remote industrial complex in the dessert. She calculated it would be thirty to forty minutes before her team and an accompanying SWAT team could be at her location. She had to secure her prisoners, particulary Juan Cardone the cartel leader, until then.

Mickey quickly went around to the four unconscious men in the room. Moving very fast and without any wasted effort she pulled off their shoes and socks, pulled their pants off, and removed their belts. Two of the men wore shoes with laces making her job easier. Quickly two pair of shoe laces bound the four men’s hands securely behind their backs. A sock secured each of their ankles together. The four leather belts tightly bound their thighs. She tied a thick knot into the center of the remaining four socks and stuffed the knot in the unconscious men’s mouths and tied them tight around their heads effectively gagging them. She then dragged each of the bodies to a different corner of the room and positioned them out of sight from each other and the door.

Mickey knew it was likely that one or more of her enemies might regain consciousness before she was ready and so by binding them she had gained a bit of time to follow up on the rest of her plan. Throwing one of the men's dark jacket and pocketing the Beretta, Mickey moved to the phone by the control panel to begin the final part of her plan. She picked it up and dialed a four digit number.

“How’s my pretty baby?” Mickey whispered softly into the phone after she heard it picked up.

On the other end of the line in the small clinic room of the club Dr. Greene’s eyes immediately glazed over slightly as the trigger phrase again prepared her to receive directions.

“Your baby’s just perfect sweetie,” the conditioned doctor replied with her programed response. Mickey felt a shiver up pleasure run down her spine as she heard the doctor’s seductive voice. She again realized that intense programing she had undergone at the hands of the club still affected her in many ways, but then dismissed the thought as her mind focused on prioritizing the tasks necessary for her to accomplish her mission and survive.

Mickey quickly told the compliant doctor where she was and ordered her to come to her location. Dr. Greene answered that she was on her way and hung up. A few minutes after Mickey’s call a soft knock on the door announced the arrival of the doctor. Mickey opened the locked door and let her in. Greene a carried a large black medical equipment bag and when she opened it Mickey saw that it contained syringes full of sedatives and rolls of surgical tape. The blonde doctor smled at Mickey and moved directly to the first of the unconscious men. As Mickey had instructed her to do hours before when they had met and Mickey had injected her with the narcotic that made her totally compliant to Mickey’s commands, she administered a sedative to each of the men designed to keep them that way for several hours.

As Doctor Greene put away her instruments Mickey came up and stood next to her. “That was great baby,” Mickey complimented the curvaceous blonde doctor, while at the same time wondering why she was smiling so broadly and calling the doctor “baby.”

“Now get your very cute butt out of here and take Ruth with you. I don’t want you anywhere near this place when the police get here, okay darling?”

Doctor Greene looked at Mickey adoringly, “Of course Starr, I’ll do whatever you want.” The docter smiled seductively, “And I do mean whatever.”

Mickey shook her head in frustration at the warm glow of pleasure the presence of Doctor Green caused her to feel deep inside, and she blushed at her inability not to smile and blush whenever she said anything to her.

“Call me Mickey baby, and now run along and once you are home you and Ruth wait there for my call, okay?”

“Oh I will …Mickey. I’ll be waiting by the phone darling,” replied the smiling Doctor as she slipped past Mickey and out into the hallway. Mickey stayed at the door and without realizing it, enjoyed the view of Doctor Greene’s hip swaying walk as she strode down the hallway toward the staircase.

Only with some conscious effort did Mickey pull her focus back to the present. She knew that, in accordance with her instructions, Dr. Greene had injected Ruth with the will sapping drug and that under the doctor’s control both of them would exit the building and drive their separate cars to the doctor’s apartment in San Diego. Dr. Greene had already packed all samples of the drug into her car and erased all the physical evidence of her presence from her small examining room. Mickey didn’t know why, but she felt a loyalty, and if she thought about it, a strong affection, for the two women and she didn’t want either of them involved in the events she suspected were soon to unfold.

As Dr. Greene and Ruth drove away from the complex of warehouse buildings that comprised the private club, Mickey took stock of her situation in the club’s VIP suite. She had four sedated and bound prisoners and they were not going to cause her any problems. With luck the task force tactical team would be here in fifteen to twenty minutes, make arrests, and best of all relieve her of responsibility for the mission. She checked that the Beretta was cocked and loaded. She was very familiar with the weapon, it was the same kind she carried for four years in the Marines. She knew from the feel of its weight that the magazine was full or near full. All she had to do was be patient and keep the situation under control until the good guys arrived.

Mickey’s ability to control the situation was soon tested.

Suddenly the power and lights throughout the suite went out. Almost instantly emergency lights came on above the door bathing the room in a combination of bright light and deep shadows. Mickey gripped the Beretta and moved to the door.

As the redhead approached the door the phone on the control panel began to ring. Mickey ignored it and peaked into the hallway. Like the room, the lights had gone out but emergency lights at the ends of the hallway and exit signs were on providing enough light to see and move around by. She could not see or hear any movement. She wondered if the tactical team had had the power cut. The phone stopped ringing. The policewoman stayed by the door surveying the hallway. She ensured that one of the assault rifles was within easy reach as she kept the Beretta ready in her hand.

Suddenly an intercom system in the hallway crackled to life in Spanish:

“Atencion! Atencion! Se trata de una incursion! La policia est' fuera del recinto! Mover a sus vehiculos y dejar el area inmediatamente! Salga ahora!”

It is a Raid! Police are outside the compound! Move to your vehicles and leave the area immediately! Get out now!

The phone behind Mickey in the suite began to ring again while Mickey continued to ignore it and stared out into the dimly lit corridor. Seconds stretched to minutes as Mickey continually glanced out of the half open door constantly observing the corridor in both directions. She knew she was on the top floor. The only way to approach the suite was from one of stairwells that opened into the hallway at each end. Her problem was she didn’t know which way they would approach so she had to watch both entryways. This was difficult to do while trying to keep most of her body covered in the room doorway. Her eyes flicked back and forth as her ears strained for any sound of danger or rescue.

Mickey’s eyes were suddenly drawn to a flicker of shadows against the wall at one end of the corridor by the stairwell exit. The fainting dancing shadows were followed by the faint but discernible sound of feet climbing the stairs rapidly. Before she could think through a plan of action, three men armed with assault rifles and dressed in the dark suits of many of the club’s sentries and security emerged from the stairs and turned the corner moving down the hallway at a brisk walk toward her.

At first the approaching men’s attention was focused behind them. Then, the man in the lead, short, dark complexioned and heavily muscled with several days growth of beard on his face, realized that Mickey was looking down the hallway toward him. His reaction was not immediately hostile as the club was full of beautiful women. Mickey acted without thinking and stepped fully into the hallway, her high heeled feet spread shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, back straight and the Beretta leveled at the three men in a school-book two-handed shooter's stance.

“Stop right there! Police!” Mickey stated firmly and loud enough for the three thugs to stop in their tracks. the men were about four doors down from her and staggered one behind the other. For a half of a second all three tried to absorb the surprising sight that was facing them. A petite beautiful redheaded woman with gorgeous and impossibly long legs was facing them down with a big automatic pistol in her small manicured hands. The brains registered the danger Mickey represented but their instinct and their experience regarded all beautiful women as objects to be won and used and certainly nothing to respected or feared. The men spread out slightly, and all three moved to bring the rifles that they carried to bear on the woman silhouetted and exposed in front of them.

It would only take the three gangsters about three seconds to pivot their Chinese type 56II assault rifles toward her and begin to empty the thirty round magazines in Mickey's direction. Even in the hands of amateurs the ninety rounds spraying at full automatic down the hallway could not miss her. Fortunately for Mickey, the three cartel heavies only had a second and half to react and that was not enough time. Mickey’s combat and police training kicked in as soon as the first thug began to swing his rifle into action. Though not enhanced with mind altering drugs, Mickey’s years of weapons training was equally as effective as any of the controlling techniques to which she was recently subject. The Beretta model 92 barked three times, less than a second between each report. In less than two seconds three 9 mm hollow point bullets were on their way to three targets fifty feet away at over twelve hundred feet per second.

Mickey aimed just below the center of the chest of each of the men. She knew that despite the fact that she was an expert shot, discretion and necessity required that she play it safe and ensure she get three hits, regardless of where on the target she hit. All three bullets hit. The first hollow point round hit the rifle of the lead thug shattering the front of the rifle, shearing off two figures on his left hand and ricocheting through his left shoulder on its way into the ceiling. He dropped his useless rifle and fell in agony to the floor. The second round hit the assailant just behind the first man square in the chest. The bullet ripped through his body destroying vital blood vessels before exiting his back, killing him instantly. The third bullet hit the third attacker in the upper left shoulder spinning him around. The bullet went all the way through the man’s body leaving a large exit wound. As he spun from the impact, his right finger convulsed on the trigger firing off a ten round burst from his rifle into the floor. One of his own 7.62 mm bullets went through his right foot. He screamed in pain, dropped his rifle and fell to the floor whimpering as blood pumped out his wounds.

Mickey’s peripheral vision noted the falling targets as her body smoothly stepped back into the partial cover of the doorway and she scanned for more. A quick glance told her that none of the three men on the floor remained a threat. She was operating on autopilot and totally reliant on her training to keep her safe and tell her what to do. The moans of the two wounded men were annoying but tolerable. Three seconds, three rounds and three bad men down. She wondered how many more there were.

-------------------------------------

The 19th in the "Vice" series. Click below to see the start of the series or the previous installment:

Begining of the Story: Chapter 1:

Mature Content

Previous Chapter 18:

Mature Content

See the folder in my gallery for the complete story so far, in order.(Let me know if you'd like to read and see more of Patrol Officer Mickey's adventures )

----------------------------------------

Daz3D->Reality->Lux render with a V4 model.

Description
“Senior.?”

The surprised guard turned to face the seductively smiling half nude dancer who had entered his leader’s suite just a few minutes before. He could hear the blaring dance music and see that the room was darkened behind her except for the pulsing blinding blue dance lights. He smiled as she crooked her finger and beckoned him into the room. Shrugging and wondering at his good fortune at being invited to enjoy his boss’s entertainment he stepped into the dark room. Less than five seconds later, after a well delivered sharp blow to the back of head by the butt of a Beretta automatic, he lay unconscious on the floor.

Mickey worked quickly after she closed the door. First, she walked briskly over to the room control panel and turned off the music and lights. Then she turned her attention to her ring. The ring was specially designed by the FBI as a combination burst transmitter and GPS. But it was a one shot device. Its tiny battery only had the power to execute one signal cycle. Mickey carefully turned the top portion of the ring a half turn clockwise. This connected the battery to the microchip circuit board inside the ring and set the ring for activation. She then depressed the stone which instantly sent out a single powerful radio pulse at a preset frequency tuned to an orbiting military satellite. The satellite then calculated the location of the sending device and relayed the exact coordinates to the FBI / Vice tactical team mobile command post in California, as well as to the FBI central command post in Washington. Within seconds of depressing the stone alarms sounded at both locations alerting police authorities that the retrieval signal had been received and giving them the GPS coordinates of Mickey's location.

Having sent the signal, Mickey noted a small indictor LED disguised inside jewel stone pulsed green twice and then went out. She remembered that that indicated the signal was successfully sent. The ring then deactivated, its battery life spent. Mickey now knew that help was on its way. She also knew, based on information she had acquired from Dr. Greene, that she was located about thirty miles outside of San Diego in a remote industrial complex in the dessert. She calculated it would be thirty to forty minutes before her team and an accompanying SWAT team could be at her location. She had to secure her prisoners, particulary Juan Cardone the cartel leader, until then.

Mickey quickly went around to the four unconscious men in the room. Moving very fast and without any wasted effort she pulled off their shoes and socks, pulled their pants off, and removed their belts. Two of the men wore shoes with laces making her job easier. Quickly two pair of shoe laces bound the four men’s hands securely behind their backs. A sock secured each of their ankles together. The four leather belts tightly bound their thighs. She tied a thick knot into the center of the remaining four socks and stuffed the knot in the unconscious men’s mouths and tied them tight around their heads effectively gagging them. She then dragged each of the bodies to a different corner of the room and positioned them out of sight from each other and the door.

Mickey knew it was likely that one or more of her enemies might regain consciousness before she was ready and so by binding them she had gained a bit of time to follow up on the rest of her plan. Throwing one of the men's dark jacket and pocketing the Beretta, Mickey moved to the phone by the control panel to begin the final part of her plan. She picked it up and dialed a four digit number.

“How’s my pretty baby?” Mickey whispered softly into the phone after she heard it picked up.

On the other end of the line in the small clinic room of the club Dr. Greene’s eyes immediately glazed over slightly as the trigger phrase again prepared her to receive directions.

“Your baby’s just perfect sweetie,” the conditioned doctor replied with her programed response. Mickey felt a shiver up pleasure run down her spine as she heard the doctor’s seductive voice. She again realized that intense programing she had undergone at the hands of the club still affected her in many ways, but then dismissed the thought as her mind focused on prioritizing the tasks necessary for her to accomplish her mission and survive.

Mickey quickly told the compliant doctor where she was and ordered her to come to her location. Dr. Greene answered that she was on her way and hung up. A few minutes after Mickey’s call a soft knock on the door announced the arrival of the doctor. Mickey opened the locked door and let her in. Greene a carried a large black medical equipment bag and when she opened it Mickey saw that it contained syringes full of sedatives and rolls of surgical tape. The blonde doctor smled at Mickey and moved directly to the first of the unconscious men. As Mickey had instructed her to do hours before when they had met and Mickey had injected her with the narcotic that made her totally compliant to Mickey’s commands, she administered a sedative to each of the men designed to keep them that way for several hours.

As Doctor Greene put away her instruments Mickey came up and stood next to her. “That was great baby,” Mickey complimented the curvaceous blonde doctor, while at the same time wondering why she was smiling so broadly and calling the doctor “baby.”

“Now get your very cute butt out of here and take Ruth with you. I don’t want you anywhere near this place when the police get here, okay darling?”

Doctor Greene looked at Mickey adoringly, “Of course Starr, I’ll do whatever you want.” The docter smiled seductively, “And I do mean whatever.”

Mickey shook her head in frustration at the warm glow of pleasure the presence of Doctor Green caused her to feel deep inside, and she blushed at her inability not to smile and blush whenever she said anything to her.

“Call me Mickey baby, and now run along and once you are home you and Ruth wait there for my call, okay?”

“Oh I will …Mickey. I’ll be waiting by the phone darling,” replied the smiling Doctor as she slipped past Mickey and out into the hallway. Mickey stayed at the door and without realizing it, enjoyed the view of Doctor Greene’s hip swaying walk as she strode down the hallway toward the staircase.

Only with some conscious effort did Mickey pull her focus back to the present. She knew that, in accordance with her instructions, Dr. Greene had injected Ruth with the will sapping drug and that under the doctor’s control both of them would exit the building and drive their separate cars to the doctor’s apartment in San Diego. Dr. Greene had already packed all samples of the drug into her car and erased all the physical evidence of her presence from her small examining room. Mickey didn’t know why, but she felt a loyalty, and if she thought about it, a strong affection, for the two women and she didn’t want either of them involved in the events she suspected were soon to unfold.

As Dr. Greene and Ruth drove away from the complex of warehouse buildings that comprised the private club, Mickey took stock of her situation in the club’s VIP suite. She had four sedated and bound prisoners and they were not going to cause her any problems. With luck the task force tactical team would be here in fifteen to twenty minutes, make arrests, and best of all relieve her of responsibility for the mission. She checked that the Beretta was cocked and loaded. She was very familiar with the weapon, it was the same kind she carried for four years in the Marines. She knew from the feel of its weight that the magazine was full or near full. All she had to do was be patient and keep the situation under control until the good guys arrived.

Mickey’s ability to control the situation was soon tested.

Suddenly the power and lights throughout the suite went out. Almost instantly emergency lights came on above the door bathing the room in a combination of bright light and deep shadows. Mickey gripped the Beretta and moved to the door.

As the redhead approached the door the phone on the control panel began to ring. Mickey ignored it and peaked into the hallway. Like the room, the lights had gone out but emergency lights at the ends of the hallway and exit signs were on providing enough light to see and move around by. She could not see or hear any movement. She wondered if the tactical team had had the power cut. The phone stopped ringing. The policewoman stayed by the door surveying the hallway. She ensured that one of the assault rifles was within easy reach as she kept the Beretta ready in her hand.

Suddenly an intercom system in the hallway crackled to life in Spanish:

“Atencion! Atencion! Se trata de una incursion! La policia est' fuera del recinto! Mover a sus vehiculos y dejar el area inmediatamente! Salga ahora!”

It is a Raid! Police are outside the compound! Move to your vehicles and leave the area immediately! Get out now!

The phone behind Mickey in the suite began to ring again while Mickey continued to ignore it and stared out into the dimly lit corridor. Seconds stretched to minutes as Mickey continually glanced out of the half open door constantly observing the corridor in both directions. She knew she was on the top floor. The only way to approach the suite was from one of stairwells that opened into the hallway at each end. Her problem was she didn’t know which way they would approach so she had to watch both entryways. This was difficult to do while trying to keep most of her body covered in the room doorway. Her eyes flicked back and forth as her ears strained for any sound of danger or rescue.

Mickey’s eyes were suddenly drawn to a flicker of shadows against the wall at one end of the corridor by the stairwell exit. The fainting dancing shadows were followed by the faint but discernible sound of feet climbing the stairs rapidly. Before she could think through a plan of action, three men armed with assault rifles and dressed in the dark suits of many of the club’s sentries and security emerged from the stairs and turned the corner moving down the hallway at a brisk walk toward her.

At first the approaching men’s attention was focused behind them. Then, the man in the lead, short, dark complexioned and heavily muscled with several days growth of beard on his face, realized that Mickey was looking down the hallway toward him. His reaction was not immediately hostile as the club was full of beautiful women. Mickey acted without thinking and stepped fully into the hallway, her high heeled feet spread shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, back straight and the Beretta leveled at the three men in a school-book two-handed shooter's stance.

“Stop right there! Police!” Mickey stated firmly and loud enough for the three thugs to stop in their tracks. the men were about four doors down from her and staggered one behind the other. For a half of a second all three tried to absorb the surprising sight that was facing them. A petite beautiful redheaded woman with gorgeous and impossibly long legs was facing them down with a big automatic pistol in her small manicured hands. The brains registered the danger Mickey represented but their instinct and their experience regarded all beautiful women as objects to be won and used and certainly nothing to respected or feared. The men spread out slightly, and all three moved to bring the rifles that they carried to bear on the woman silhouetted and exposed in front of them.

It would only take the three gangsters about three seconds to pivot their Chinese type 56II assault rifles toward her and begin to empty the thirty round magazines in Mickey's direction. Even in the hands of amateurs the ninety rounds spraying at full automatic down the hallway could not miss her. Fortunately for Mickey, the three cartel heavies only had a second and half to react and that was not enough time. Mickey’s combat and police training kicked in as soon as the first thug began to swing his rifle into action. Though not enhanced with mind altering drugs, Mickey’s years of weapons training was equally as effective as any of the controlling techniques to which she was recently subject. The Beretta model 92 barked three times, less than a second between each report. In less than two seconds three 9 mm hollow point bullets were on their way to three targets fifty feet away at over twelve hundred feet per second.

Mickey aimed just below the center of the chest of each of the men. She knew that despite the fact that she was an expert shot, discretion and necessity required that she play it safe and ensure she get three hits, regardless of where on the target she hit. All three bullets hit. The first hollow point round hit the rifle of the lead thug shattering the front of the rifle, shearing off two figures on his left hand and ricocheting through his left shoulder on its way into the ceiling. He dropped his useless rifle and fell in agony to the floor. The second round hit the assailant just behind the first man square in the chest. The bullet ripped through his body destroying vital blood vessels before exiting his back, killing him instantly. The third bullet hit the third attacker in the upper left shoulder spinning him around. The bullet went all the way through the man’s body leaving a large exit wound. As he spun from the impact, his right finger convulsed on the trigger firing off a ten round burst from his rifle into the floor. One of his own 7.62 mm bullets went through his right foot. He screamed in pain, dropped his rifle and fell to the floor whimpering as blood pumped out his wounds.

Mickey’s peripheral vision noted the falling targets as her body smoothly stepped back into the partial cover of the doorway and she scanned for more. A quick glance told her that none of the three men on the floor remained a threat. She was operating on autopilot and totally reliant on her training to keep her safe and tell her what to do. The moans of the two wounded men were annoying but tolerable. Three seconds, three rounds and three bad men down. She wondered how many more there were.

-------------------------------------

The 19th in the "Vice" series. Click below to see the start of the series or the previous installment:

Begining of the Story: Chapter 1:

Mature Content

Previous Chapter 18:

Mature Content

See the folder in my gallery for the complete story so far, in order.(Let me know if you'd like to read and see more of Patrol Officer Mickey's adventures )

----------------------------------------

Daz3D->Reality->Lux render with a V4 model.