Chronicle XXVI

Officer Mike Nasty’s precinct watched as he and the captain squared off. He stood with a stone face, a pistol in each hand pointed at the wolf in cop's clothes. Officers watched in confusion, hesitant to pull out a gun against the hero or their captain, unsure who was the enemy. Mike scowled at the onlookers and assessed his situation. He’d have to expose her as Killer Kite before winning over the others. If things went south, he would reluctantly control the other cops - a power he assured them he never would use.

Mike dropped his guns, keeping his hands where they were. With his feet, he hacky sacked the pistols towards the captain. She was caught off-guard and swung at them with one of her main kites, severing the barrels of each gun. The precinct gasped and drew their weapons at Killer Kite. Everyone had a moment of realization, matching the captain’s face to the unmasked villain they’d seen on their most wanted list for years.

“This was fun!” Killer Kite laughed, deploying a large kite which flew her through the ceiling.

“How’d you figure it out, Mike?” Officers asked the hero.

“She had no interest in my body. That means she was either blind… or evil.” Mike answered.

Everyone rolled their eyes at Mike and rushed outside, seeing where Killer Kite was headed. She was already out of sight, so they returned to work and placed a call to the Big City Sheriff’s Office to inform them of what happened. Mike stood from his desk as everyone else was seated and he did some pushups, preparing for the end of his shift. While he was on the floor, he heard slashing and liquid splatter. He rose from the ground to see all of his fellow officers had been cut down by delayed kites that Killer Kite planted.

“Damn.” Mike stated, standing in the center of the precinct, surrounded by death. He whistled for Sally to come, then walked to the parking lot to ride her. “Killer Kite’s ridden her last gust of wind.”

A phone call came as Mike drove aimlessly. The Sheriff of Big City, Tango Monday, began shouting over the phone. “Get back to the precinct, Mike!”

“Hah. Orders. I don’t like orders, Mr. Monday.”

“You’re a police officer. Orders are THE ENTIRE JOB!”

“Justice is the entire job.” Mike replied. He could feel the Sheriff losing his patience.

“Mike. If you pursue Killer Kite, I’ll have you flagged as a vigilante. She was the only thing stopping me from doing that before.”

“Vigilante. Funny word for badass cop.”

“YOU’RE DONE, MIKE!” the Sheriff yelled as the call disconnected.

“Guess it’s just you and me now, Sally.” He tapped his faithful motorcycle and continued driving.

Mike found himself back where he defeated Killer Kite’s goons. He had no leads and figured if this was where they were stationed, maybe she had reason to return. The mess he left hadn’t been cleaned. Trucks in the cargo bays still operated, they just drove around the pile of bodies and kites. Mike stepped off of Sally and ran a finger through the ash below the corpses. Then he touched it to his tongue.

“Dead.” Mike declared, as if the state of the bodies wasn’t enough indication.

Back on Sally, he sped through the loading docks, unnecessarily sliding under a truck. On the other side of the truck, he hit the brakes and allowed his back tire to swing around. Ahead of him was Killer Kite, hovering with a devious smile. Mike took out his pistols and aimed them at her, but she put her hands up and floated down to where he was.

“You still want me, Officer?” she asked seductively.

“You’re a cop killer. A low-life criminal.” Mike replied.

“So…”

After ten rounds of wild love-making, Mike mounted up on Sally once again and aimed his pistols at Killer Kite. “Go to the police station. Turn in your kites.”

“You know I won’t do that, Mike.”

“Then this was a mistake.”

“Love is a mistake?”

“Hah. My love’s reserved for a lady named Sally.” Mike looked down admirably at his motorcycle. “Now let’s go, Sally.”

“It’s a motorcycle, it can’t hear you.” Killer Kite held her head painfully.

“Then why is her engine running?”

“Because you’re revving it.” Killer Kite lost her patience. “Alright. I’m done, Mike. Retiring. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Oh, you’re just gonna quit?” Mike asked. Killer Kite looked at him incredulously. Mike realized he was asking a criminal to return to crime and sped off to distance himself from doing so.

Back at the precinct, Mike met Captain Gerk, his new captain and new officers. Joining them was Tango Monday, face red with rage.

“Did you find her?” the Sheriff asked.

“Found. Disposed.” Mike replied, trusting Killer Kite would actually retire and not make a fool of him.

“Good. Now turn in your badge.”

“Mr. Monday…” Mike looked at the Sheriff to gauge the severity of his disobedience. “...Take the badge. There’s another seared into my soul.” he said, strutting out past all the new faces.

That night, during a steamy performance at the strip club, Mike’s phone rang. Captain Gerk begged him to return.

“Mike, we need you.”

“After 7 PM, it’s Mike Nasty.”

“Mike Nasty.”

“See you in the morning.”