Dead to Rights Adult FanFiction-Moving on
I was a huge fan of the Dead to Rights video game series in my teens and early 20's, it was just so fun and action packed, I loved the story and the cop and dog demographic/relationship. Being a fan of definitive endings, I wanted to continue the story after the game ended and write a story of Jack Slate's life after he finished avenging and fighting toward the truth.
As Jack and Shadow left the cemetery, while thinking about Frank, he was also thinking about leaving Grant City. He had walked up to the preacher and publicly thanked him for the funeral and the officiating saying it was short and too the point just how dad would of wanted it, and they parted with a handshake and the preacher telling Jack that he was Frank's rock and Jack answered that after mom had died, he was his. Take care of yourself was the last thing the preacher said publicly, privately, Jack thanked him for slipping him the prison map and acid to escape from the electric chair and through the tunnels. Opening the driver's door of his grey 1967 Chevrolet C-10 long bed pickup, Jack lets Shadow climb in before sliding onto the grey cloth bench seat himself to pet the sitting wolf/malamute hybrid on the head. Firing up the recently installed 6.0 liter LY6 LS based truck V8 and shifting it's mated 4L80E 4 speed automatic into drive, the partners head for home one last time.
When both return to Jack's apartment, Jack begins packing, with Redwater dead and the corrupt Grant City Anticrime division dismantled, as well as the corrupt mayor Pinnacle dead, all the good cops and good people can get back to business, like Frank said to him on that side-street in the Milton subdivision, "All this city needs is for it's good, hard working people to come back and want to better their community". As Jack is packing, he comes across his old shadow box with his Metal of Honour, his dad's Metal of Valour from over 30 years serving Grant City, that he was presented posthumously at the funeral and Jack humbly accepted, along with his bronze star and his three purple hearts from his time as a Marine "Assultman" Weapons Platoon, Lima Company, 3rd Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, in the unit, he blew up a lot of enemy positions with his SMAW shoulder fired rocket launcher but he also doubled as a Designated Marksman with his Colt M4 DMR. That was during his two tours in Iraq from September 2002 to June of 2006. Packing the last box into the bed of his truck and hooking up the U-HAUL trailer he rented to the trailer hitch behind his New York license plate, it had all his and Shadow's other worldly positions in it, Jack crouches beside his partner and takes one last look at his apartment. About a month back, Jack sold his parents' old house and cleaned it out, all the contents he wanted he kept, and sold the rest for some extra money. He put it all in storage until he was settled in his new Bachelor apartment. As Jack reminisces, his mind wanders back to that hostage taking and what he did and what his dad said after in the boxing gym: "I raised you right, and you made a right call just to prove it, you won't find me anything but proud." Then they started boxing. Jack shakes back to the present with a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes...Jack stands and he and Shadow walk to his truck and drive off, Jack got a job as a Sergeant with the Auburn Police Department in Bay County Michigan on his 35th birthday...On Jack's first weekend off, Sargent Slate of the 8th Precinct and Shadow drive back to New York and collect all his parents' possessions that he wanted to keep from the storage locker and Jack arranges them in his apartment, finally making it feel like home.
Jack gives 40 years to the Michigan police and retiring a Captain at 68 years of age, Shadow passed away at the ripe old age of 16 of testicular cancer and Jack buried him next to Frank-the inscription on his headstone reading "Forever with the man who always believed in me, I finally earned my wings"-who raised him from an emaciated puppy of the streets of Milton and who never gave up on him even when the police said he was too feral for police work and should be put down-just like he never gave up on his son-Jack followed suit, dying in his Lay-Z-boy of sudden heart failure at the age of 87 and was buried right next to his dad and his dog, the inscription reading simply "Cpt Jack Slate 1971-2058.