Sperm Wars: The Family Menace

Sperm Wars 4: The Family Menace

The order of my stories to read is:

Todd & Melina series.

Interludes 1-5

Sperm Wars series.

Before voting or commenting, please remember that these stories are building up to future stories with better sex and you-solve-it police cases. The Sperm Wars series is a necessary prequel to those stories.

The story is told in disjointed and time-shifting format... on purpose.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 16 - Darkness and Dawn

Cold. So cold.

I realized I was awake, and it was cold. I was cold. The only sensation I could feel at that moment was the cold.

I looked up at the faces hovering over me, blurred faces without form, the sounds they were making unintelligible. It took a moment for my eyes to clear and realize they were EMTs.

As my consciousness fully returned, so did the pain. The intense pain in my left side, the throbbing ache in the back of my head.

"Easy, Detective." one of the EMTs said. "Lie still. You're wounded."

"Wait..." I said as I remembered. I raised my head as much as I could, through the pain. I saw what I wanted to see. "Don't let that guy get away." I said, trying to point at the other person lying on the ground, surrounded by EMTs and two uniformed police officers.

"He's not going anywhere." Detective Cindy Ross said, coming into my view. "We've got him. Hugh and I are here and taking care of everything. You just relax, Don, okay?"

"The kids..." I asked.

"They're fine." Ross replied. "Okay guys, get him to the hospital."

As I felt myself being loaded onto the ambulance, my mind was in rewind, playing over the events that had led to this moment...

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

It was nearly a week after the murder of Nurse Anna, and there had not been a single lead on Ned nor Elizabeth's whereabouts. While it was likely Elizabeth had left town, I suspected that Ned was still in the area, and had put out bulletins to the Force to be on the lookout for him.

"Teresa made a great point," Cindy Ross said to me and Lt. Britt Maxwell that evening as we wound down and chatted at the Cop Bar after work, "but she doesn't want anyone in Vice knowing she said anything to us." This bothered me, as the intra-Force divisions leading to failures to communicate were hurting the Police Department, but I said nothing as I listened to Cindy.

Cindy continued "She said that you missed one obvious thing: that if Elizabeth and Ned are part of a drug ring, they must've had contacts, and they've had those contacts for some considerable time. Maybe even before your problems with them last summer."

"That *IS* a good point." I acknowledged. "Britt, was there ever any information that Ned was trafficking while he was in school last year?"

"No." Lt. Maxwell replied, "but who knows what drugs he was making behind Dr. Heinz's back, and he well could have been distributing during that time."

Britt frowned as she thought about it. "But I'll tell you this, Don: when I looked further into Ned's activities with those designer drugs back then, I got warned off, fast and hard. Everyone from President Wellman to FDA Agent Fred Dixon to Professor Fredricson made sure to let me know that the case was in, and I quote, 'higher hands', and that I need not waste my valuable time looking into it."

"And then yesterday, after the revelations about Tony and the performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) that Ned was making came out, President Wellman invited me to lunch and made sure to mention that that case needed to be pursued 'in the quietest way possible.'"

"Sure," I said, "that's totally understandable: the President does not want his school's football team to come under NCAA scrutiny. That's the 'cash cow' around here. Oh well, I'm not interested in them; they'll likely have to come up with a new source for any PEDs they want to cheat with. I'm more interested in getting a murderer off the streets."

"You mean two murderers, don't you?" Cindy asked.

I looked at her. "I've been thinking about that. Elizabeth is certainly guilty of being part of all this, but I'm not sure she intended for any of these murders to happen. If we catch her, don't be surprised if she tries to cut a deal and puts it all on Ned." I got up. "And she may be telling the truth, if what I'm thinking is right."

Just then Officer Pete Feeley, a uniformed officer who strongly desired to become a Detective, came rushing in, still in his uniform. "Big one!" he said, stopping at our table. "Two children have been kidnapped. Separate incidents." We scrambled.

Part 17 - The Set-Up

7:00am the next morning, after a sleepless night, I turned on the TV to catch the morning news.

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" the attractive redheaded reporter almost shouted into the microphone from her position in front of the Government buildings in Town Square, where the Media usually delivered their reports. They had been banished from the grounds of Police Headquarters the instant I was hired onto the Force. It is possible that THAT might have been my first and only requirement made of them when I was offered the job.

"Channel Two News has learned that there has been a third kidnapping of a child. Eight-year-old Katie Gibson was taken from her mother at gunpoint last night outside the west end Target store. Little Rachel Fourier and young Alton Taylor were taken earlier in the day in two daring kidnappings made in broad daylight."

"Channel Two News has also learned that a ransom for the three has been delivered to the Police Department for all three children." How did THAT leak, I wondered as I watched Bettina Wurtzburg continue her report. "The ransom is for $200,000 total, and the kidnapper has made his identity known. His name is Bobby Joe Graves, who police say has a long criminal record. Channel Two News could only confirm that Graves has demanded that the ransom be delivered by a Town Police Officer, but has not given the location to deliver the ransom as of this morning. Channel Two News will break in with any developments in this serious case just as soon as we get the information. This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News." She was almost smiling as she delivered this devastating report, and I wondered if her glee came from knowing she was leaking police information, or having a big story to report... or the kidnappings themselves. With the Press, there was no telling.

Have I mentioned that I am NOT a fan of the Press?

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

"Don," Chief Griswold said solemnly, his face a mask of worry, "the kidnapper has demanded that you personally deliver the ransom."

We were sitting in the Chief's conference room. In addition to the Chief, myself, and my MCD team, Lt. Maxwell was there with State Bureau of Investigation (SBI) Agent Richard "Dick" Ferrell. The guy was a total asshole. He had dark brown hair that was thinning on the top of his head, and very large curly mustache, similar to Chief Griswold's but dark brown instead of nearly white like the chief's. I totally hated the guy, but he and the SBI had insisted he be the State's "liaison" to the kidnapping case. We knew what that meant: the State wanted to take all the credit if the case got solved. Of course, if it failed and went wrong, we local "hicks" would be assigned total blame.

"Why would Bobby Joe Graves ask for him by name?" Ferrell said, haughtily. "Does your detective have a past relationship with that turd?" I was caught thinking to myself that there WAS a bigger asshole than Steven Ikea in this County, and the bastard was sitting right here.

And Ferrell's insinuation did not escape my notice, either: the SBI was still very aggressively antagonistic to the Town & County Police Force, and my arrival had in no way mollified some of their local agents: they were scared to death of me, and everyone present knew it all too well. Ferrell's insinuation that I had some "relationship" with Graves was an all-but-open question if I was a "dirty" cop.

"Nope." I replied. "I've never even heard of Graves before these kidnappings. He's a small-time loser, never done anything of this magnitude before. Of course... I'm sure a special agent of your... distinction... understands the true nature of what is going on here." As I said it, Ferrell failed to hide his confusion as well as his contempt. He waited for me to continue, but I didn't, letting the sentence hang in the air, embarrassing him. It was as if everyone else knew the joke but he didn't.

Of course I knew that Graves was just a "front", that someone else was using Graves and these kidnappings to get to me. And it didn't take too much to realize who the hidden leader was. I was beginning to see a pattern in Ned: he liked to use others to do his dirty work for him, which made him actually committing two murders himself a bit confusing...

"All right, Don." the chief said, as a way of admonishing my mischief. He continued, "The parents of these kids don't have much money at all: they're absolutely not who our police psychologist would've expected to be potential kidnap victims. But one of the University trustees has... anonymously, as far as you all are concerned... agreed to put up the money for us to deliver. The bills will be marked and the bag bugged. Bobby Joe Graves is by no means the sharpest tool in the shed. We won't get the address to deliver the ransom until tomorrow morning."

"Damn." Britt Maxwell said. "Those poor kids must be terrified. I wish there were some way we could find them now."

"We're working on it." I said. "Speaking of which, I'm going to go do that right now. I'm sure Agent Ferrell has his own methods and will be following those." Not only had I taken a shot at Ferrell, but I'd deliberately left off the "Special" from "Special Agent".. an insult he noticed and made a mental note of.

Part 18 - Hospital Care

It was my third night in the hospital. I was still very groggy, going into and out of sleep for periods of time, losing track of day and night and the hours. Most of the pain had gone away, except when I tried to move. The doctors had said I was healing well and should be able to go home in as little as three more days. I didn't know whether to attribute that to the miracles of modern medicine or the impersonal cost cutting of the insurance company, but I'd be glad to get out of here nonetheless.

It was around 2:30 am, as near as I could tell from the clock-radio Melina had brought in and put on the bedside table for me. Although I was only consciously aware of it at irregular intervals, she had spent nearly all of the daylight hours here with me, and had only gone home to sleep during the night at my insistence when I was awake enough to tell her, with Laura supporting me and taking Melina home to get some rest. Laura had also spent many hours in the room, occasionally invoking her privilege as a doctor on staff at the hospital to check up on me. I realized that during those times when I was dreaming of Laura and smelling her perfume that she must have been in the hospital room with me.

My MCD team had also taken turns visiting and staying with me and the chief and his wife had stopped in a couple of times, and they all told me at times that I'd been awake and talking to them... and I had no memory of their visits nor the conversations at all. I later learned that I had asked several times if anyone else had been found in the burned out warehouse, and was assured that only two of Ned's perps were found, both injured.

I was in the security ward of the hospital even though the threat to me was considered diminished. Even so, I tensed up when I heard the door to my room open. A silhouette figure approached the bed, and I soon realized that it was one of the night duty nurses. I only knew her name as Nurse Jones. She was a black woman with a very pretty face, a firm shapely body and a saucy ass that I would love to ride. Was this a dream? Was she really here in the room?

"Oh, you're awake, baby?" she said very quietly as she stood next to the bed. Her perfume smelled good and her voice was husky, and I felt the stirrings in my loins as my cock began to swell. Yes, I was becoming sexually aroused, even here in the hospital. I was injured, not dead.

"Mmm, you're doing much better." Nurse Jones said, and I wondered why she was being so quiet, speaking in such low tones. It felt surreal, as if it was a dream.

"And you're doing just fine where it counts the most." she said, noting the bulge where my cock was tenting the sheet, her hand sliding carefully over my chest and abs to my loins. I was throbbing by now.

"You just relax, baby." she said, "and let Nurse Jones take care of your needs. I know just what to do to make you all better." I felt the sheet being pulled back, followed by my useless hospital gown, the cool air feeling cold. The cold didn't feel like a dream, I thought as Nurse Jones's warm dry hand take hold of my cock.

"Oh baby, that's a nice cock." Nurse Jones said quietly, but I detected the excitement in her voice.

"Ohhhhhhh...." I whispered as I felt her kiss the tip of my cockhead, then take my length into her hot, wet mouth, sliding her lips down my shaft nearly to the base then back up again, sucking hard as her lips clung tightly to my inches, never breaking contact.

"Mmm, so good baby." Nurse Jones whispered as her tongue circled my cockhead, her left hand massaging my aching, very full balls while her right hand gripped the base of my shaft and began pumping it. "Mmm, that is fine white cock, baby, and I love sucking it. Does that feel good, baby?" Not waiting for my answer, the beautiful black nurse swallowed my man-sausage and began giving me serious head, deeply sucking me as her hand stroked me harder.

"Oh God, that feels good!" I answered. "God damn, that's so good!" I had not had sex in days, and the shocks of pleasure racing through my loins and my spine were intense, competing well against the pain of breathing too hard and too deeply.

For the next several minutes the room was silent except for the occasionally slurp and kiss from Nurse Jones's mouth as she expertly fellated my cock. She was incredibly good, and I could tell that she was very aroused by her actions... and perhaps by the fact that she was a black woman sucking my white cock. The thought of our interracial liaison added to my excitement also; it felt great to have a black woman sucking my dick! The thoughts, coming after the spell of days without sex, soon built up and I felt my nut rising hard and fast.

"UHK! OH! UNH!" I gasped, trying to stifle my voice. Exquisitely pleasurable pain rocked my cock and balls, followed by the immense joy of release as the first huge spurt of my semen rocketed into Nurse Jones's throat. She moaned as jolt after jolt of my pent-up seed escaped from the prison of my balls and coated her throat.

My cock was still throbbing and pulsing when Nurse Jones licked up the last of my jism from my cock. She drank some water from the bottle on my bedside table, then used a washcloth to clean off my loins of the evidence of the fantastic oral sex she had given me.

"Mmmm, so tasty." she cooed. "You're one tasty white man, Detective Don. I'll be back for more of that." With that she was gone, silently walking out of the room, leaving me to wonder if that was reality or if it had been a dream within a wonderful dream...

Part 19 - The Trap

"I fully expect to hear from the kidnappers long before any official ransom message comes out." I told Cindy and Hugh in the MCD room after the meeting in the chief's office. "They want me to come alone, and here is what I think they'll try to do." And sure enough, they did what I expected them to do.

The train tracks that came out of the west and turned straight south at the northwest corner of town were essentially the western border of the town. Everything west of that was open, flat farmland. At 11:00pm, I received a phone call on my cell. The voice, which sounded like a man high on drugs trying to read a script, told me to go to a location in the better neighborhoods in the northern section of town.

"I expect them to tell me to drive south on one of the farm roads on the west side of the tracks, then I'll be told to come back into the town." I told them before leaving. "They're going to do this to make sure I'm not being followed by another car and that there is not anyone else in the car with me. I'll take one of the police SUVs, since the windows are bulletproof to small arms fire, in case they ambush me, but I don't expect it to go down there. You guys stay alert and in one of the four positions where we've staged cars."

"So how will we keep track of you?" Hugh asked.

"You can track the GPS and the radio on the police car." I said. "I'll also keep my police cellphone open and connected with you, and will tell you of any instructions or changes that happen." Our cellphones had special apps so that police could keep connected as if we were on a phone call.

"Won't they be concerned seeing you in a marked police car?" Cindy asked, pleasing me that she was astute enough to figure that out.

"Bobby Joe Graves is pretty stupid." Hugh said. "He probably won't even think of that."

The chief handed me the bag as I got into the SUV in the police dept. parking lot. "It's all real money, but half of it is marked and there are homing devices in the bag and one of the bundles of bills." he said. "Don, be careful." The man was clearly worried, and he shook my hand as if he were sending me into a combat situation from which he did not expect me to return alive...

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

I reached the first location and my personal cellphone rang. As expected, the voice told me to head down County Farm Road 5, which was through open fields headed straight south alongside the railroad tracks. Just as I approached a road that would turn east back into Town into the "Warehouse District", just north of the slums district in the southwest of town, the phone rang again and the voice said turn east onto that road. I did so, calling in my location on the police cellphone, receiving acknowledgement.

This was too easy, I thought, foreboding entering my soul for the first time as I came into town. They've got to have some trick up their sleeve, I realized, and just hoped I'd be able to handle it and get backup to the scene quickly. I was worried about the children; they would be hostages and possibly be used as human shields if there was any police action.

Coming up on the left was the Crawford Mattress factory, followed by the Ward Harvester plant. Ward Harvester didn't advertise it out loud, but they also made farm chemicals, including ammonium nitrate.

At that moment, a text message came up on my personal cell. It was not the same number of the phone calls, and it said simply "Ward, back entrance."

"HQ, this is Rover." I called into the police cellphone as I approached the back entrance of the plant, which was open. No one was at the guard gate. "HQ, Rover, I'm at Ward Harvester, back gate. How copy?"

There was no reply.

I looked down at the phone. There was no signal to it. I got onto the police radio that came with the car and attempted to call in. There was no response; only static greeted me. I told my location into both the cellphone and police radio mike, hoping that my message would get through even if their reply wasn't getting back to me.