Officer HellaCopper Pt. II – The Comic Book Superhero Series

After Ernest and Francis Riceco watched Officer Johnson get the Chinese AVIC Z11WB into the air the pair hopped into the Captain’s cruiser to chase it. The aircraft went this way, that way, up and down, and several times it spun around before heading westward like a speeding bullet. With siren screaming, father at the wheel, son hanging out the passenger side window keeping eye on the plane and shouting out the ever-changing and unpredictable direction the copter chose, the two followed the flying machine. From the Teterboro Airport in Hasbrouck Heights, then northward to South Hackensack, veering southwest to cross the Hackensack River toward Bogata, and finally westward over Overpeck Creek to Palisades Park, the pilot’s “ground crew” trailed from below.

As the Palisades cliffs now came into view, together in silence and horror, the duo stared into the distance. When it was clear how close the whirlybird was to the jagged bluffs and evident it no longer had time to turn away the Ricecos screeched to a roadside halt as they wordlessly watched from the patrol car. The rotary-winged plane rammed headlong into the rocky wall, slid down its face, prior to disappearing out of view. Captain Riceco was the first of the two to recover from the shock of watching Officer Peter Richard Johnson die in the accident. He placed his hands over both the boy’s eyes to shield his son from the ghastly and terrible reality of what had just happened, and said, “Don’t tell your mother about any of this, Francis, she’d kill the pair of us!” Afterward, for nearly a quarter of an hour, neither made a sound.

Then they heard it. From not that far away the sound of rotor blades beating was audible once again. And then, yes then, the sight of the helicopter slowly rising up toward the heavens; flying skyward, like a phoenix, emerging from the ashes. But how could that be? They’d seen the craft not only smash into the rocky bluffs but also topple and tumble all the way down into the Palisades Park. And from what they’d eyeballed either Riceco would’ve sworn upon a stack of bibles in any court in the land that the autogiro had been demolished, and obviously, Officer Johnson must surely be dead.

And yet, there it was. That beautiful and costly flying machine lifting upward in the horizon, then turning in their direction, headed back toward the airfield. How could this be, how could this really be? Miracle of miracles, the copter appeared undamaged, and since someone had to be piloting the vehicle; Petey the policeman must be alive. Hallelujah! Hitting the siren again as Captain Riceco turned the car around to follow the aircraft back to Teterboro Airport. Neither father nor son had an explanation for what had happened, but they were soon to find out.

Once the cop cruiser had been parked at the airfield they ran out to the flattop tarp where the helicopter had landed. Not only had no one exited from the aerial vehicle but there appeared to be no one in its cockpit. How strange, how strange indeed!

“Dad, does that Chinese chopper look any different to you?”

Yes, it did look different. It may have been all the stress and excitement that had taken place today was playing tricks on both their eyes and minds, but somehow, and perhaps it was only an optical illusion created by the reflection of the bright morning sun, but somehow it looked kind of human. The fuselage appeared to be more proportioned now to that of a man’s body, and the Plexiglas™ enclosed cockpit, if you looked at it from a certain angle, was almost face-like. Not only that, but they saw what looked like a large badge adorning the lower left side outside the cockpit bearing the words, “Police Officer, Weehawken Police”, and the numbers: 0005. Oh my god, thought Captain Riceco, the badge number Peter Richard Johnson once wore!

“Well, hello! Hello, Captain Riceco, hello, Francis. It’s good to see you both again,” greeted a voice that emanated from the AVIC Z11WB Chinese helicopter equipped with the iFix™ super-top-secret Chinese technology; a voice that sounded exactly like Officer Peter Richard Johnson’s. “Sorry if I gave you both a bit of a scare there with my messy little mash-up against those pesky Palisades cliffs. I think I have this flying thing down pat now, so I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Officer Johnson, is that you?” inquired the captain.

“Yes, and no, Captain Riceco. Since that run-in with those rocky hills, I believe it would be better if everyone just calls me Officer HellaCopper. For I am neither longer man nor machine, I am a lean mean man-chine, and I’m made to fight all evildoers who commit crimes. That is now, and will always be my prime directive!”

“Dad, what is happening,” the younger of the Ricecos wanted to know.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. Francis, check inside the helicopter and find out where Officer Johnson is hiding. This isn’t funny.”

Spending more than fifteen minutes checking every nook and cranny of the aircraft, his son reported, “Dad, he’s nowhere inside. May we should just ask the voice what happened.”

Ask they did, and when told step-by-step the story of Officer Peter Richard Johnson’s deconstruction then reconstruction the two were left with jaws agape in awe and amazement. Every detail from the chopper’s liftoff, its brief flight away from them, the smash-up, rolling down the Palisades Park cliffs, the iFix™ going into action, the incorporation of man with machine, the flight back to Tererboro, the landing upon the airport tarmac, and then this conversation that ensued was recanted by the newly named Officer HellaCopper. If the father and son took nothing else away from the officer’s account they at least could say that HellaCopper was thorough.

“You’ve got to be joking, Johnson, errr… I mean HellaCopper,” was all Ernest Riceco could say.

To be continued…