Miami's Governor, Lawrence Sturden, stood in front of the court, and started to read. He asked me to stand, said that I should, something about it being custom or something.

"Lieutenant Michael Tanner, you have been charged and found guilty of the following charges: Murder; eleven counts, Conspiracy; one count, Drug Possession; one count, and Grand Theft Auto; four counts. You've had a near spotless record of employment, an arrest tally that rivals other precincts combined. You have an unprecedented twelve mayoral commendations. However, due you your recent action, the Miami P.D. has been forced reclaim your badge and weapon. We are sorry to have to lose such an officer, but we cannot defend your actions. Do you have anything to say?"

I stood up, adjusted my sport-coat, and proceeded to walk. I knew I had to say something, I can't get fired and go out like a limp light bulb for Christ's sake. But I couldn't decide. Do I apologize for destroying the reputation of the Miami Police Department, for killing 2 fellow police officers, or for stealing contraband evidence from my own precinct? Oh, or I could slam the bastard for not helping me. He said it himself, my brother's case was top list priority, and he let it go cold. Hell, do you think I wanted to do all that stuff? Shit no! That is the last thing I wanted to do. But he pushed me into it. I had to do something. My brother was shot, my blood was taken from me, and damn it, that doesn't go unpunished!

"With my deepest sincerity," I began. "I apologize for all the pain and trouble I've caused so many recently. I don't now, nor have I ever wanted to instill suffering on anyone, good or bad. It is my only hope that all of you can forgive me; I was driven by anger and vengeance, and my actions haunt me, for now and ever, thank you." I sure as hell didn't mean all of that. I only hurt those that had it comin' to them.

Stepping down, out of sight of those who'd been watching me, I felt as though the burden was gone. I had made my peace with them, with God, and with everyone else.

Honestly, I never wanted to hurt anyone. That's why I became a cop, to protect those that couldn't protect themselves. To Protect and Serve?? right? Hell, all I did was what anyone would have done! I protected the rights on innocent, and served justice upon the guilty.

-6 Months Prior-

"Mike!" a voice called for me. "Your biggest bust yet! Way to go!"

"Thanks, Lawrence! Not bad huh? Eight kilos of coke, off the streets." Truth be told, it was a big bust, and I was damn proud. I sat on steak out for two months, following that twerp. Endless nights of cold wind and hot chocolate, sitting, watching him sell death and poverty to so many kids. It's a shame, he single handedly ruined the lives of six kids, right in front of my eyes, and I couldn't cuff the bastard as soon as I wanted, I had to wait.

"Alright Lawrence, im - - "

"It's Governor Sturden, now."

"Oh, shove it Lawrence, you never had me call you Mr. Sturden growing up."

"Come on Mike, my girlfriend is over there?? man," he said smiling. Greedy bastard.

"Alright Mr. Sturden, im going home, I need a shower, and a good Jackie Chan movie."

"That's fine Lieutenant; you deserve the break, great bust today!" Lieutenant, he called me Lieutenant. My brother-in-law called me Lieutenant. My three-year-my-junior brother-in-law called me Lieutenant. I don't give a damn who he is, I'm going to call rank on him, once at Easter, twice at Thanksgiving, and as much as I want to at Christmas.

I stopped by my locker, stowed my gun and badge, grabbed my jacket, and headed for the door. I put my right sleeve on as I passed Roberta's desk. Roberta was short African-American woman, short, with a gorgeous smile. She winked at me and congratulated me on the job-well-done. She always flirted with me a little, it was sweet, and so was she. She always brought me coffee and doughnuts in the morning. It was either an amazingly sweet gesture, or a very funny joke.

Finishing the putting on of my jacket, I went to the parking structure to find my car. I love my car; it's a 1983 Corvette Stingray. Its jet-black metallic, with a cream convertible soft-top.

"Ah, finally." It took me 30 minutes to find my car, and the jackass next to me parked too close! I couldn't open my door at all; but I was in a good mood, so I bounded the door itself, and landed right in my comfort zone. That captain's chair fit me like a glove. I fumbled with my keys, the engine turned over. I had spent months, when I was younger, tuning that engine. It purred like a napping kitten, it was beautiful. I burned out of the parking structure, and hit the speed limit, twice, once speeding up, and once slowing down, that was it.

I pulled into my garage, covered the 'Vette, and went inside. I poured myself a drink, chocolate milk, and sat down to watch my Jackie Chan movie; I was in Rush Hour mood tonight. I pressed that little red button, and the T.V. made a little buzzing sound that brings comfort to all of us. The news was still on from this morning, and they still were covering that damned hurricane.

"Its Florida, get used to it people," I mumbled under my breath, with much obvious contempt. Then, the worst happened; the second story hit.

"Today, another gang-land style killing took place outside of the Miami City Limits. A Jimmi Tanner was victim today, he will be sorely missed."

I was somewhere on the line between pissed, and breakdown phase. I threw my glass at the T.V. so hard it shattered; glass fragments gouged my leg. I could have bled for hours, and wouldn't have known, I was so numb. I don't remember what I dialed, or grabbing the phone for that matter??.

"Sarah, its Mike."

"Mike, what's wrong? Talk to me."

"Jimmi's dead, damnit, or brother's dead!"

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