Trespass | By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 2004 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Shield, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: - I don’t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Trespass Chapter 28.
Vic longed to be able to roll shoushoulders to try and ease some of the tension from them, but he needed to remain still and quiet and focused. The past three days had been long and busy, finally bringing him to his goal. The research the team had carried out on Tom Prescott had proved pretty fruitless. The guy had nothing on him except a couple of parking tickets and a DUI from four years ago. Vic had stared at his driving license photo for hours, but hadn’t felt any sense of recognition. Of course the perps had both worn ski masks, but even staring at Prescott’s eyes, in the photo, Vic couldn’t say one way or the other if he was one of them. Then they’d taken a trip to Pasadena, and settled in to observe his house, see the guy in the flesh. Some discrete questioning of his neighbours had uncovered a few interesting facts. He lived alone after a short and stormy marriage, which had been over for a couple of years, and his cousin from Georgia had been staying with him for about six months. This grabbed Vic’s attention as he remembered the leader of the two men had had a Georgia accent. He shuddered as he remembered how he’d felt that bastard’s warm breath against his ear as he’d leaned in filling Vic’s mind with his perverted, poisonous words. Telling him how much he’d enjoyed raping Dutch, insinuating that Vic had been turned on by it, insinuating that he wanted to rape him too. Vic heard that voice in his dreams, whispering those same hateful words to him out of the dark. Although he didn’t like to admit it, even to himself, but Vic would listen to Shane speak and find a shiver going down his spine just from the sound of his voice. He had to keep stopping himself from telling Shane to shut up every time the poor guy opened his mouth to say anything.
Although the circumstantial evidence had seemed strong it had been his first sighting of the two men that had convinced Vic. It had been the evening during their first day of observation when Lem had nudged him awake from a light doze, and indicated the house. As Vic had looked he’d felt his hackles rise and his blood run cold in his veins. He didn’t need to see their faces. Their build, their body language, just the way they moved, and he knew, without a doubt he knew, these were the two. The two fucking sick animals who’d caused so much hurt. He watched them laughing as they got into Prescott’s car and drove off together. Vic had stared after their car as it drove away, watching the two red taillights disappearing into the gathering darkness. Lem had wanted to know if he should follow them, but Vic had wanted to case the house, a plan already beginning to form in his mind.
Now everything was in place and his plan was about to come to fruition. Unfortunately he’d had to shelve his original plan for revenge. One which had involved an abandoned warehouse, castration with a blunt, rusty knife and rats, lots of hungry rats. As satisfying as that scenario was Vic knew he’d have to be rather more subtle if he wanted to give Dutch any peace of mind. As well as his own deep-seated need to be avenged against these perverted creatures, Vic also wanted to do this for Dutch. He wanted Dutch to know that there was no pbilibility of these two ever returning to hurt him again. He also wanted to spare Dutch from having to give a detailed statement. He didn’t want him to have to go through what he’d gone through. Having to recount everything while those two idiots from Westwood wrote everything down, and judged him from their own narrow, bigoted, ignorant standpoint. If Vic went with his original dark plan for an almost Old Testament form of revenge he wouldn’t be able to achieve either of these things. If Prescott and his cousin, Sam Tortora, simply disappeared there’d be nothing to link them to the attack. Then Dutch would be expected to give his statement, and would have to live the rest of his life always looking over his shoulder. Vic knew that for Dutch to have a chance at healing he’d have to be sure that there was no way that those two would be coming back. Also if Vic took them, and yet managed to implicate them in the attack, then he would be the first suspect in their disappearance. He knew that Aceveda had expressed his sympathy towards him, and had actually surprised Vic by his sincerity, but would he let a chance to nail Vic pass him by? Somehow, Vic doubted it, and was convinced that if Aceveda thought he could bring Vic down by implicating him in the two men’s disappearance then he would. So Vic had had to come up with an alternative plan for exacting his revenge, his redemption. He could feel the tension in his body rising even more as he realised the moment was almost here.
Trying to relax he smiled to himself as he realised he’d be in trouble with Aceveda tomorrow. After days of managing to avoid the Captain, he’d finally cornered Vic in the Clubhouse, and ordered him to see the department shrink. He’d refused Vic’s assurances that it was unnecessary, and he’d told him it was mandatory, and he’d revoke his active duty status e die didn’t comply. The first appointment had been about four hours ago, and Vic had blown it off to be here. He knew this would do his psyche more good then spending the next couple of months on a psychiatrists couch, looking at ink blots, talking about his childhood, or whatever other bullshit he’d have to put up with. Tomorrow he’d apologize to Aceveda, and meekly attend the required sessions, and tell the shrink whatever he wanted to hear to get a clean bill of health. Right now though he was going to cure his problems the best way he knew how, through actions not words. Vic turned his attention back to the matter at hand as he heard Ronnie approaching.
Without having to check Vic knew that in their own positions Lem and Shane were also readying themselves. They hadn’t hesitated in supporting Vic when he’d outlined his plan to them. He’d told them he’d understand if they didn’t want to get involved in what he had to do, and hbeenbeen heartened when none of them had wanted to pull out. Clutching his gun tightly Vic listened as Ronnie spun Prescott a tale of wanting to hire him to repair his washer dryer. He even flashed Prescott the business card Vic had taken from Dutch’s kitchen, telling him a friend had recommended him. Just as Prescott took the chain off his door, asking Ronnie which friend had recommended him, he was taken completely by surprise when three armed men rushed him. As Lem and Shane moved on through the house to secure Tortora, and Ronnie closed the door behind them, Vic shoved Prescott up against the wall. He had his forearm across Prescott’s throat, and his gun pressed against his temple as he got right into his face, coldly smiled and said,
"Hello again asshole. Remember me?"
Vic watched in satisfaction as Prescott’s face paled. His eyes widened in recognition and shock, and for one delicious moment Vic actually thought the pig was going to piss himself in fear. Oh yeah revenge was sweet Vic thought to himself, and felt the smile on his face widen.
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