The Shooter

Chapter 1

The culmination of Bayley Martinez's first undercover operation as a police officer was at hand. Her services had been leant to Stamford City Police Department's Intelligence Division. The division was made up of some of the city's best detectives, making working with them quite an honour for a regular police officer like Bayley.

Her role in the operation had been to play the part of prostitute and a drug addict in order to get into a house where a significant pimping and cocaine running operation was suspected to be based. Having spent a few minutes inside, Bayley had confirmed that both of those suspicions were accurate. Armed with that knowledge, she had excused herself to go to the downstairs bathroom.

Bolting the bathroom door shut behind her, Bayley took her phone out of her purse and called the number she had been given for the head of Intelligence Division, who was parked out in the street with a van load of armed detectives and police officers.

"Yes?" the commander said, answering the call.

"Three men and four prostitutes, all in the living room in the back," Bayley said quietly. "Lines of cocaine on the table and a package on the floor. I'm sure there will be more."

"Understood," the commander said. Just before the call ended, Bayley heard an order issued. "Let's move,"

Knowing that the front and back doors would be smashed in momentarily, and that bullets might start flying if things went south, Bayley got ready to take cover between the bath and the toilet if necessary.

About thirty seconds later, there was a huge crash from the direction of the front door. She heard people rushing into the house, yelling that they were SCPD, and wanted to see hands in the air.

Things started to go wrong when Bayley heard someone kick the bathroom door. Someone was breaking in, and she didn't have a weapon with her to defend herself. The second kick sent the door flying open, and one of the men walked in brandishing a pistol. "This was you, bitch!" he accused, pointing the gun at her.

Bayley raised her hands, but didn't get a chance to try and plead her case. One of the Intelligence Division detectives appeared behind the suspect, jamming the end of a rifle into the back of his neck.

"Drop the gun!" the detective yelled.

Thank god, Bayley thought as the suspect complied immediately, letting the gun fall out of his hands to the floor. Bayley picked it up and disarmed it, while the detective cuffed the suspect's hands behind his back. Judging by the shouting throughout the rest of the house, she could tell that the other men were under arrest. Rooms upstairs were being cleared.

Happy with her part in the operation, Bayley followed the detective and his prisoner out of the bathroom. They found the commander of Intelligence Division coming the other way. She was in her mid thirties, Bayley estimated, with long dark hair that was currently up in a bun, and a very attractive face. It wasn't the appearance people might expect of a division commander, but maybe that was an asset in and of itself.

"Hello, Mickey. You've been a naughty boy," the commander said in a well-spoken English accent, obviously recognising the man who had just been placed under arrest.

"Fuck you, Thorne," the suspect said, spitting in the woman's face. She responded by smashing the butt of her rifle into the middle of his face, breaking his nose with a loud crack, and damn near knocking him out. He was stopped from collapsing by the detective behind him.

Jesus, Bayley thought, telling herself never to fuck with Lucy Thorne. Apparently being in charge of Intelligence Division put her in a position to be able to do something like that to a prisoner. If Bayley had done that as a regular police officer, it would likely have resulted in a suspension from duty at best.