Action Adventure / Okaria
Bubbling heat like the veins of a volcano coursed through him, fueling the fire in his gut.
Flames shooting beyond his hands scorching his beastly opponents he could feel their defenses weakening. He was almost there, he could see salvation ahead the crown jewel in his collection. Abruptly the flames were haywire shooting forth with no focus missing their intended targets. The beasts, free from the continuous barrage began to regain their strength. His eyes were suddenly heavy, his body weak with exhaustion. What was happening? He had it in his grasp, what had gone wrong?
His eyes closing as his body collapsed within the surrounding flame. Coolness and warmth surrounding a soft touch, a gentle whisper.
Opening his eyes, the realization gutting him like a taxidermist, he howled in agony. His visions lost, his soul engorged with fire as he lashed out in fury at the cruelty of this fate, this world, this reality.
*
The rain filled streets were black and gray, all other colors that may have inhabited the world before the night were washed down the gutter with the rest of the soiled remains of the day. Stepping beyond the yellow tape into the decrepit warehouse the pungent smell of urine, blood and stale cigarettes reinforced the current pounding in his head. Brought on by lack of sleep and overabundance of caffeine, Agent Ben Mitchell sorely needed a cup of coffee. Receiving the call on his way home from a 48 hour stakeout his mind was mush, his body weathered.
Fluid beams bounced off the wall of the south corner guiding his way to the body. According to the file emailed to him in route, this was number eight, all women, no evidence of rape or even unneeded physical violence, this psycho did what he needed to kill them and moved on.
The first killing occurred 60 days before in Easton, PA, since then there had been a murder a week, like clockwork all in a different state and or possible country as was noted in the report. A link to several murders in France, Belgium and Germany had been found and were being researched further. All the tell tale signs of your modern day serial killer with one catch, there was no apparent driving climax. The adrenaline rush of the kill, the driving expulsion that most killers sought was missing, these were anti-climactic, the direct opposite of their current profile.
Shaking off the rain Ben made his way across the puddle spotted concrete, joining his partner Tom Richards. Five years under their belts, Tom graduated from Quantico just a year after Ben. Tall, handsome, sincere and tough, Agent Richards was the poster boy for the FBI but he was also down to earth enough that is never went to his head. “What have we got?”
“A woman, mid twenties, looks like she was on her way home from a club,” Tom explained, while crouching beside the remains..
“ETD?” Ben asked, joining him as he took notice of the sparkling pale blood soaked scarf wrapped loosely around her neck.
“About three hours ago,” a man named Clark said, carefully examining the lifeless body. “It was quick. A cut to the throat severed the arteries.” Stepping forward crouching next to the body as the man pointed to her exposed chest, Ben followed the man’s sight. “Can you see that?”
“Yeah, I see it,” Clark affirmed while he turned slightly extracting out a set of tweezers from his bag. Carefully removing whatever the object was that was protruding from the woman’s chest, he held it up to the light for all to see. “Looks like a piece of crystal”
“Bag it, how long do you think this is going to take, Clark?” Ben heard Tom ask as he stood, looking at the surrounding area.
“Not till morning, it’s been a busy night,” Clark replied, proceeding to wrap up the body for removal as Tom stepped away speaking with the attending LAPD officers.
Walking through the warehouse aimlessly, the scraping of his own feet keeping time with his mind, racing with possibilities, questions as to the motive, the timing, the pattern. An end game beyond murder, the butchering of the human soul incidental in the bigger plot. Simply a means to an end.
A clanging echo pulling him from his thoughts, his eyes immediately drawn upward. Making his way to the back of the warehouse and silently up a flight of metal stairs, he entered the lofted second floor. Gathering his bearing as beams of light from the forensic teams effort appeared in his peripheral vision, his attention focused on the eaves of the warehouse searching for the source of the noise. His gaze tracing up the back wall to a shadow, blinking, the shadow moved. He froze, waiting and it moved again. Seeing a catwalk leading to the other side of the lofted area he crept forward to the end , silently ducking behind a large column in hope of a glance at the guest.
The vague shape of a figure moving within the shadows appeared. Dressed in black, his arms raised outward a flash of light erupted as Ben squinted against it’s burst. Refocusing on the glow he watched in curiosity as it curled itself into a small orb that sat hovering just above the ground. Watching intently the orb grew what he could describe as thin tentacles wrapping themselves around each other, creating an intricate web of light.
Pulling himself out of his awed fascination he took a breath.
“Stop, FBI,” he commanded pulling out his weapon and stepping out from behind the large column. “What are you doing?”
Receiving no response, Ben paused for an instant, still mesmerized by the fluidity of light.
“Stop what you are doing and put your hands down,” he called again. The guest surprisingly complied as he watched the light display fold into itself and disappear.
The visitor stood silently, his arms hanging loosely at his sides as Ben slowly approached, “who are you?”
The air leapt from his chest and within an instant his back was crushed against a cold wall. Gasping for air, Ben struggled to his feet, his eyes and mind blurred by the sudden assault. Reeling, he caught sight of a fleeting shadow, adrenaline kicking in he ran. Spotting his mystery guest turning a corner about twenty feet to his right his pace quickened trying to bridge the gap between him and the clanging of metal just in front of him. Listening intently to the vibrations of the noise he isolated it as the drumming of someone ascending a flight of rusted stairs. The distant thundering of the forensics team as they headed up the stairs in response to the footfalls muddling his perception he silently cursed, finally meeting the stairs. Taking two at a time reaching the landing, which opened to another catwalk he gained speed, seeing the suspect only feet ahead. His arms unexpectedly flew upward as the ground disappeared from beneath him, grasping at air sharp cold metal sliced at his side. Clutching desperately at the jagged metal and opening his eyes he beheld the gaping hole on the catwalk just above him and the fifty-foot drop onto concrete just below. Searching for his suspect and a way out, he saw nothing and cursed aloud.
Tightening his grip while attempting to pull himself up, the rusted metal whined in protest, and he released himself slowly back down. Searching for something, anything that would be of use he heard approaching footsteps. Looking up a masked face peered down at him. The concealed figure leaned forward with an outreached hand as footsteps continued to rapidly approach. Hesitating a moment but finally reaching out to grab the offered hand, the metal whined again and his hold faltered. Plummeting downward in a free fall of air, waiting for the force of the impact to stun him the sensation lifted. Opening his eyes in confusion, a blue haze appearing around his body slowed his fall. Continuing slowly downward, until the cold solid ground met his feet he immediately searched upward with no sign of his savior, seeing only a barrage of flashlights.
“Ben, Jesus, what the hell happened? Are you alright!” Tom exclaimed rushing through a side door.
“I’m fine,” Ben, grunted suddenly feeling pain in his abdomen. “Have the teams split up and search the entire area, especially the loft directly above the crime scene. There was someone up there.”
Feeling a warm stickiness beginning to stream down his side and Ben made his way out of the warehouse. The thick moisture of the air hung heavy against his neck as he pulled off his raincoat and popped the back of his Bronco. Pulling off his shirt, thankful the rain had temporarily ceased, Tom appeared at his side waiting patiently for him to finish. After five years and 46 cases the partnership had turned into a marriage each knowing the others limitations and tread stones.
The gash in his abdomen didn’t look deep, it was just a bloody mess. The trunk, refitted with compartments and bolted boxes, containing anything and everything a man would need to, essentially, live out of his car. Pulling out the first aid kit, he began bandaging his own gaping wound. Quickly finishing he opened the second half of the trunk. Unwrapping a clean T-shirt and pulling it over his head he grunted slightly at the pain of the fresh wound. Jerking his raincoat back on in irritation at the absurdity of the situation he closed the door and looked to Tom.
“Talk to me,” Ben said opening the passenger side door to his car. The seat lay flat on itself making for a mobile desk. Papers scattered beneath a laptop and a cup of Starbucks coffee reminding him that he needed to clean.
“Girls name is Amanda Walker, UCLA student, aspiring fashion director, no police record,” Tom started flipping through his notebook. “Carl called and said we should have COD by the morning shift. The scene in clean, there was no trace found. Gillis is following up on some ash that was found in the corner of the next to the body and our crystal is apparently an Algerian Quartz fairly common.”
“Witnesses,” Ben asked, turning the computer to face him and booting it up.
“Nothing substantial, or credible, anyone that might of seen something also encountered some form of the green fairy as well,” Tom finished looking off to the side as an officer approached.
“There is no sign of anyone, who ever was up there is long gone now,” the officer explained.
“Okay thanks, get trace back up there see what you can find,” Tom replied as the officer nodded, turned and walked away.
Ben’s mind was moving so quickly he barely heard any of it, all standard procedure, none of them had apparently seen what he had and in the confusion of it all, no one had questioned how he survived the fall, yet.
“Okay, Brass, are you going to tell me what happened in there or what?” Tom asked under his breath.
“There’s nothing to tell, I told you what happened inside,” Ben replied not looking away from the computer screen.
“Yeah okay so then explain to me how you can take a fifty foot dive and walk away with barely a scratch?” Stopping what he was doing and straightening his back Ben realized things weren’t as simple as he had hoped. Ben remained silent as he turned toward Tom. “Your lack of response is stunning. What’s our next move?”
“Where did she live?” Ben asked scratching his head uncomfortably, contemplating relaying his story to Tom. It was unbelievable, all of it and as much as he trusted Tom he didn’t think it was a risk he could take just yet.
“What?’
“Amanda, where did she live?” he asked again he guilt of his deception seeping into the back of his neck.
“Her drivers license reads, 239 Santa Rosa, Whitten’s Grove, CA,” he replied reading off of his notebook as Ben felt the blood drain from his face. “the local authorities are being contacted they will handle the visit. Why, you want to head over there, talk to the parents?”
“Um…yeah,” Ben replied turning away from him closing the door of the truck. “I’ll head out tonight talk with the family in the morning with the locals.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Ben replied as he walked around the car. “Have Clark send me the autopsy file and I will call you when I get in. You gonna hang out here until they are done?”
“Yeah, they shouldn’t be much longer,” Tom replied glancing back at the warehouse. “Hey Brass?”
“Yeah?”
“You good?”
“I’m good.”
The twinkling of crystal ringing in his mind he opened his eyes to find himself standing in the middle of an empty lavishly ornate ballroom. Laughter, music and talking humming in his ears, he searched seeing no one. Looking again, she stood before him with a wide open smile, her eyes glowing, wearing the flower dress he remembered. Taking her in his arms, a familiar warmth washed over him and they began to dance. Swirled throughout the room with her, he felt elated, complete. Pulling him toward her, whispering his name in his ear, her sweet scent wafting through his senses, a smile crept over his face as her hair brushed trough his hands.
Abruptly the room went dark, he couldn’t move as and she disappeared from his arms. Hearing her screams he struggled to move but his body remained unresponsive. Yelling out to her the words were silenced as they escaped his lips.
Sitting up with a jolt hitting his head on the roof of the car, his body shook as he tried to catch his breath. Opening the window, the vivid images of the dream flashing in his mind, the cool ocean air hit his face waking up his mind and quelling the residual panic in his gut.
He hadn’t dreamt of her in years. She could outwit the most cunning prankster, out think the best of the brains and brighten the gloomiest of days. His mind was suddenly overflowing with images from his past. Not just memories from the beach, but people, events he thought he had forgotten. Good times and bad. And then her face appeared smiling in his minds eye again and he felt soothing warmth spread across his body.
Remembering the reason behind his journey to the beachside town, his stomach tightened knowing that this new serial case had become complicated. Starting with the unbelievable events of the previous evening and now knowing that the victim was from a place he knew like the back of his hand, Whitten’s Grove, his home town.
Pulling himself out of the car and walking around to the trunk, the cool ocean breeze was thick with moisture and he drank it in one breath at a time. Watching the wave’s crash along the shoreline while pulling out a bottle of water his toothbrush and toothpaste, he started his morning ritual. Noticing a curiosity shop just down the street. “The business must be very lucrative to afford the lease on that place. All you need is a surfboard….” Ben thought with a smirk as he began to brush his teeth eyeing the small seaside shack.
What happened in the warehouse was real and whomever it was that created both the sphere and the light around him during the fall had abilities beyond his comprehension. While he was anxious to find out the person’s identity and connection to the murders, he was also a bit hesitant about meeting them in a dark alley anytime in the near future.
The motivation behind the anonymous visitor was still bothering, all of the evidence had been gathered and sent back to the lab, there was nothing there to find or clean up. The fall would have killed him, erased any knowledge of the events he had witnessed and yet the mystery guest had come back and saved him from certain death.
Finishing his morning ritual and pulling on his trench coat, he headed over to the shop. Opening the door instantly overwhelmed in the varying smells of incense and burning candles. The shop was tiny, probably no bigger than one of the walk in closets that inhabited the surrounding million dollar estates. Wind chimes, dream catchers and banners of every color hung lazily from the ceiling. Dust covered books with yellowing pages of every size, binding, and color filled the ceiling high shelves. Stepping carefully around the corner trying not to kick or knock over any of the statues, bubbling orbs or pyramids that lined the walkway toward the counter. Pausing to review a large table filled with crystals; sorted by name and color. Each in its individual plastic container.
Searching for the shopkeeper, he saw no one and then abruptly an older man popped out from beneath the counter.
“Good morning, how may I help you,” the man asked in a husky voice.
“Hi,” Ben replied, taking the man in. He was of a larger build with a full head of graying hair and reading glasses hanging off his pointed nose. “No, I’m just looking, thanks.”
Ben wandered around the shop as the man continued to work behind the desk, and eventually came back to the table of crystals, “You have a wide variety here.”
“Yes we do,” the man replied obviously taking in Ben as well. “Looking for something in particular?”
“Yeah actually, “Ben replied feeling oddly nervous. “It is a crystal, I am not sure of the name, it looks like this one but blue in tone.”
“Well that is a quartz,” the man said making his way around the counter motioning to a bin filled with clear rocks.
“Do you have any that are blue in tone,” Ben inquired as he looked through the stones.
“Blue,” the man, repeated as he reevaluated Ben. “No we don’t carry any blue quartz.”
“Any particular reason, are they rare,” Ben asked.
“That is one way of putting it,” the man replied with an air of reserved confidence. “there is no such thing as blue Algerian quartz.” Looking back at him in frustration, Ben opened his mouth in objection but lost his chance. “If I may ask, where have you seen this, blue Algerian quartz? I am assuming you have seen it, haven’t you?”
“Um…yeah I have seen it,” Ben replied, sensing that the man had information he may be willing to share. “But, obviously it is not what I thought because you said it doesn’t exist.”
“You may not be as mistaken as you think,” the old man said, squinting behind his glasses. “There may be a way to explain the mystery if you have an open mind.”
“Any information you can provide would be appreciated.”
“The crystal I assume you have found would show up as being a molecular match to the Algerian Quartz. However, your crystal is something much more special indeed.” The old man began as Ben followed him down the first aisle of books. “Your crystal is in fact a rarity, something the world hasn’t seen in hundreds of years.”
“I can understand that they are rare, what I am interested in is what they are used for, would they be used as a marker of sorts?” Ben asked as the man reached up pulling out on of the many-yellowed books covered with dust. Carefully opening it and thumbing through it as he carried it back to the counter of the store.
“Ah, yes here it is,” the old man said with excitement as he turned the book around to show Ben. Peering down at the book seeing a drawing of a woman in Egyptian robes. She was standing within a ball of light, the etching of a blue crystal protruding from her chest.
“There are those who say that there are in fact four celestial planes of existence,” Oscar began reviewing the text of the book.
“Earth, Heaven, Hell and Purgatory,” Ben replied.
“Yes, except the Christian version of purgatory is not necessarily the consensus of thought,” Oscar explained.
“So what is the consensus of thought?”
“A place called the Underworld, a plane of existence symbiotic to the earthly plane but partitioned off from it,” Oscar went on to describe.
“Like an invisible hard drive, uses the same energy source but is a separate data file usually protected by an encrypted key,” Ben theorized aloud.
“Exactly, the legend of Okaria states that when this separate plane was formed the powers of the universe it was encrypted, as you said. The doorway to the plane only allowing those previously marked by the masters of the two higher planes to enter.”
“So there is no way to get into the Underworlds unless you go through Okaria,” Ben surmised.
“Correct,” Oscar replied.
“So what does that have to do with our crystals?”
“Well the legend is scattered. The majority of the text of the Okaria was lost hundreds of years ago,” the old man went on to explain. “The thing that is known is that the blessings of the crystals are bestowed at birth and the blessed will not awaken until an imminent threat is upon them.”
“What does that mean?”
“Some believe that the crystals are a marker of sorts, impregnated within chosen individuals with the power to protect Okaria if she or the Underworld is ever threatened. Others say that the crystals were buried within the human species as a way to keep the secrets of the Underworld hidden.”
“What does this say down here,” asking as he pointed to the very bottom of the text.
“That the crystals shall protect the blessed in life and in death,” the old man replied as straightened his back. “So, if you have truly found a crystal of the Okaria, you have a bigger problem on your hands than you thought.”
“Yeah,” Ben countered, feeling as if he were in a strange dream. “But how much weight can you really give this legend?”
“As much weight as anyone can give any legend,” the man replied as he closed the book, placing it beneath the counter. “A legend is just a story until it is witnessed.”
“How would I find out is either of these stories were motivation in a series of murders?” Ben asked as Oscar looked to him with genuine interest of concern.
“I think the question to ask is why do you think that the Okaria legend has anything to do with your murders?”
“I unfortunately cannot share the specifics but there are enough similarities to the legend and the murders to make me wonder,” Ben replied confidently.
“There is no marking or ritualistic removal of the crystals if found so no there would be no way of discerning if the death could be linked to the legend, the only think that would be apparent would be the presence of the crystal itself.” Oscar explained thoughtfully.
“Hypothetically, if someone were to find the crystals and open the doorway to this so-called underworld, what would the ramifications be?”
“It is said that the warriors of the Okaria are defenders of the heavens, the crystals are thought to house the abilities needed in its defense. What lies within the Underworld are all those things that give you chills in the night. Those shadows that make you feel as if you are not alone in an empty room and every evil or sinister thought in the world. If in fact your killer has found a path to the Underworld, may Okaria protect us all.”
*
Katherine Beckham walked out of the salon with a wave and a smile, her curly blonde hair rippling in the warm breeze as she blew on her drying nails. Five days until her wedding, she had a lot to do, little time and the list kept growing. A wedding she had been dreaming of her entire life. It was big, it was lavish and she was now wishing that they had eloped. Her cell phone rang as she walked toward the café two doors down. She was going to need a caffeine fix if she was going to get through the day.
“This is Kat,” she said into the phone smiling as she heard her fiancée, David’s voice. “Slow down sweetheart, yes of course the city council was invited. The invitations went out 6 months ago…David, if you don’t calm down you are going to have a coronary at thirty. Okay…yes, I will double check with Melissa…yeah, okay…I love you…bye…” hanging up the phone with a sigh she looked up, seeing the smiling face of Rita the coffee queen.
“The usual, Kat,” Rita asked grabbing a cup.
“Yes, please…actually can you make it a double?”
“Busy day dear?”
“I don’t think busy is the right word, more like psychotic,” Kat replied with a giggle as she dug in her purse for her wallet. Her cell phone rang again and she groaned. Struggling to answer it, as the contents of her purse spilled onto the floor. “Oh goodness…” she exclaimed as she heard the door of the coffee shop jingle. “Melissa, can I call you back, thanks.” Kat flipped the phone closed and stooped to pick up her scattered belongings.
“Here, let me help you with that,” she heard a familiar voice say although she couldn’t place it. She gathered the remainder of the items up and stood.
“Thanks, I am such a klutz,” Kat started and then stopped as she realized to whom she was speaking. “Ben!”
“Kat!” Ben exclaimed back in utter surprise. “I didn’t even recognize you!”
“Ben what are you doing here, after we didn’t hear back about the wedding we figured you weren’t coming…” Kat exclaimed as she threw her arms around him in a hug.
“Well I…wait, wedding,” Ben asked as she pulled back from him.
“You’d know that if you would read your mail once in a while,” Kat teased. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t get the invitation because I sent it registered mail!”
“So that’s why the post office keeps calling,” Ben thought to him self and then replied sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”
“Kat,” Rita called placing a cup of coffee on the counter.
“Thanks, Rita, can you make my friend a double shot of espresso, please?” Kat requested as she took her coffee and pulled Ben to a nearby vacant table. “I am so happy to see you, David is going to be thrilled! Wait a minute; if you didn’t know about the wedding what are you doing here? Is your family okay, has something happened?”
“No, no, everyone is fine. I just…I had some vacation time and thought it would be nice to re visit my roots,” Ben replied thinking it better to leave the part about a serial killer having used their little town as a stomping ground a mood breaker.
“Well your timing is perfect, everyone will be arriving for the wedding in the next few days, and we can all catch up,” Kat replied with the most genuine smile he had seen in years. “So how are you? We haven’t heard from you in months, are you still in LA?”
“Yes, I am still in LA and still working for the bureau,” Ben replied as he felt the anxiety of his life or, lack of, building within his chest.
“And Emily?”
“We broke up about a year ago actually,” Ben replied with a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry, I thought Emily was really nice, we had a good time last time we visited with you both.”
“Yeah, it is for the best,” Ben, replied, anxious to get the topic of conversation off him. “Enough about me, tell me about you, David, the wedding of the century.” Just as he finished, Kat’s cell rang again, she looked to see whom it was and left the phone alone looking back up at Ben. “Sometimes you just have to ignore it.”
“If I don’t, I think I will go insane,” Kat replied as she took a long drink of her coffee. “It has been just crazy, when David and I first got engaged I had thoughts of a small intimate wedding by the beach or something. But with David working for the mayor’s office…this wedding has turned into the social gathering of the year, the guest list alone is 600 people, Ben. 600, I didn’t even know that 600 people lived in Whitten’s Grove.”
“Do you have help?” Ben asked, seeing an opportunity to poke around town without stirring up too many questions.
“Help, I have too much help if there is such a thing. I have three assistants; a wedding planner and then we have David’s staff that all have assistants plus our parents. I am telling you, if this wedding doesn’t happen soon I am not going to make it down the aisle,” Kat replied breathlessly smiling.
‘What can I do to help?”
“Really?”
“Anything,” Ben replied, watching the relief of a friend flood her face.
“I have this list,” she started, pulling out her bursting day planner. “If I can give you just a few things to pick up that would be such a terrific help…”
“Do it,” Ben said as his phone rang. “Make the list as long as you want I will take care of it for you.” Standing as Kat began making her list for him he walked outside the café to take the call.
“Mitchell,” he said into the phone.
“Mitchell, this is Paul,” he heard on the other end.
“Sir, how can I help you,” Ben replied, unconsciously straightening his back.
“Your current assignment has been closed.”
“Sir I must object,” Ben exclaimed into the phone.
“Mitchell it’s done,” Paul replied unemotionally. “The local authorities will be handling it from here on out. Your work on the case has been phenomenal I have been approved to let you take some time off.”
“So you’re just pulling the plug on this,” Ben replied in frustration. “There is a serial killer on the loose and you want me to take a vacation?”
“Mitchell, it’s over,” Paul replied in frustration. “Go to the beach, find a girlfriend, and get drunk. I don’t care what you do but the case is closed and your work on it is to stop immediately, end of story. ”
“Yes…yes sir,” Ben replied in submission, holding back the flurry of curse words wanting to burst forth. “Thank you sir.”
Paul muttered something about an incoming call and the conversation ended. Hanging up the phone and stepping back into the café, he found Kat finishing the list and a piping hot double shot waiting.
“I really appreciate this Ben,” Kat expressed, not looking up from her work. “It should only take a few hours and then you can meet us at the reception.”
“Reception?”
“Oh, I completely forgot. Yeah, we are having a pre wedding reception at the Biltmore tonight at eight, just cocktails and snacks. Just about everyone is flying in today and we figured they might be hungry.” Kat said, handing him the list.
“Do you need me to pick anyone up,” Ben asked as he reviewed the list. Various different things to do, all simple but he could see how it would be exhausting.
“Nope, David has arranged to have everyone picked up and taken to the hotel via limo,” stuffing her day planner back into her purse.
“Nice,” Ben replied with a smirk.
“So I will see you at eight,” grabbing her coffee and looking at her watch, “I wish I had more time to catch up but I am late for an appointment. I am so glad you are here!” Kat bent over giving him another hug before rushing toward the door. “If you run into any problems call me!”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Ben replied as he watched her run out the door to her car down the street.
His mind going back to the frustration of his conversation with Paul, he recounted every word his gut telling him something was missing. For the FBI to simply walk away from such a high profile case was against everything he knew. Even in those times events were pulled beyond their jurisdiction the Fed held strong.
Shaking his head, sitting back in his chair suddenly reminded of where he sat. Seeing her empty cup in front of him he smirked remembering their encounter. It was great to see her, her and David were two of the group that he had managed to stay in touch with, at Kat’s insistence. There were seven in the group, himself, Kat, David, Aisha, Justin, Ryan and Rachel, all individuals who had remained friends beginning mostly in High School lasting all the way through college. Each of them had gone there separate ways but stayed in touch through Kat and David and now it seemed they were all headed back home.
Go to the beach, get a girlfriend and get drunk…
Maybe not such a horrible suggestion; would it be so awful to lose him self in, reviewing the list again, candles, flowers and champagne fountains. Taking sips of his espresso, while pushing away the nagging thoughts of an unsolved case, folding the list and putting it in his pocket, “piece of cake.”
*
The Reception
“Piece of cake my ass,” Ben muttered, as he stood at the bar of the Biltmore gladly accepting the whiskey sour put in front of him while desperately drowning the fluffy details of the day. Details of his conversation with both Paul and Oscar lingering in his mind. Perhaps there was some truth to the legend and that is why it was now deemed “hands off” by the Fed. The absurdity if the thought made his smirk as he took the drink in hand, turning to survey the droves of people arriving for the reception. Fortunately so far he knew none of them and if he did none of them knew him. Happily drinking down the last of the drink and proceeded to order another feeling a tap on his shoulder. Turning toward it, a smiling David stood before him with an outstretched hand.
“Ben, it’s been too long,” David said with a grin.
“Agreed,” Ben, replied as he shook the man’s hand. David, whom struggled in school from being more concerned with Star Trek lore than Algebra and Ben used to tease about having seven of the same pair of jeans and t-shirts for each day of the week, was now standing in front of him in an Armani suit and power tie.
“When Kat told me you’d made it I was overjoyed to say the least,” David said while motioning to the bartender. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, man.”
“Glad I could come,” Ben, replied with a smile as David ordered a martini. “Looks like this is going to be quite a gathering.”
“Yeah, word has gotten around I guess. The more the merrier I say,” David said with a salesman smile “You can never have too many friends, right?”
“Amen to that,” Ben replied, raising his glass to the thought.
“I have to say I am really excited to be bringing the gang all back together again. I know that we all have our own lives now but it is important that we all remember where we came from, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Definitely,” Ben replied realizing how much David sounded like the politicians he loathed in LA. The ones who authorize cut backs, but then complain when the crimes rate goes through the roof from lack of man power.
“The gang should be here soon, until then feel free to mingle. Make some connections, Whitten’s Grove’s reach is further than it used to be, and like we said you can never have too many friends.” David said with a wink and a smile disappearing into the crowd.
Ben was a little more than unsettled by the conversation, feeling like he was in an episode of the twilight zone. Ben always knew David would be a success, he just wasn’t expecting Bill Clinton Jr..
Taking the second drink a bit slower, Ben, watched Kat and David greet their guests. Again, the sight struck him as odd. Each of them was on opposite sides of the room working in a circle. If this were his engagement party as it was, his soon to be wife would be right beside him the whole time. An admitted romantic, probably more so than most, due to , some would say, he had a record of falling short on the relationship side still looking for the girl who would take him, as he was, flaws and all.
Seeing out of the corner of his eye one of the seven and his oldest friend make his way though the crowd, Ben couldn’t help but smirk knowing that not everyone had changed. Flawlessly kept mouse brown hair, matching horn rimmed eyeglasses slightly widening his brown eyes, the look was finished with a light blue polo shirt, Khaki trousers, argyle socks and brown shoes. Knowing the man since first grade the look was expected, a brain in every sense of the word, Justin was nothing if not a creature of habit. Last Ben heard he was working on his third Masters and running a lab out of M.I.T.
“Justin,” Ben called out, waving the man over to the bar.
“Ben,” Justin exclaimed, smiling cheerfully while waving back. Finally joining him, solidly shaking his hand. “Kat said you weren’t coming.”
“I had a change of plans and here I am,” replying with the same enthusiasm.
“Thank God, I was hoping there would be someone here I knew to talk to,” he said with a sigh ordering a beer and taking a seat next to Ben at the bar. “Weddings make me uncomfortable, they’re…so…formal.”
“Last time I looked this isn’t a wedding, Justin, this is a party,” Ben replied.
“No, a party is the seven of us at Aisha’s dad’s cabin graduation weekend,” Justin replied with a knowing grin. “Now that was a party.”
“Yes, I would have to agree that was a party.”
“This is not a party, this is a group of socialites brown nosing the new “it crowd” trying make the connections and the insurances that their taxes won’t go up or that their son or daughter gets into the private school of their choice. That’s what this is…”
“Justin, you have gotten blunt in your old age,” Ben replied with a laugh.
“No, I have gotten educated,” Justin, replied with a smirk. “You work for the government Ben; you know the unending politics of today. I used to think Whitten’s Grove was immune, I can see now that it is not, the worst part is that it is being led by the objector himself.” Justin said motioning to David’s presence in the crowd.
“I am sure that David is just doing what he has to, to ensure Whitten’s Grove stays the way it always has. Sometimes that means making nice with the elders you know?”
“I hope so. I would hate to think that we had lost him to the power hungry mob.”
“Even if he has gotten slightly off track, Kat will keep him in line. She always has before.”
“You’re right; it’s just my cynicism breaking through.”
“So you still at M.I.T?”
“Yeah, but I am being beckoned to the private sector, my research is losing funding and the grants just aren’t out there anymore.”
“Remind me what you are working on again?”
“I was working on the migratory patterns of the Austrian Quail but I was recently selected to join a privately funded research genealogy team.”
“Wow, that sound interesting,” Ben replied with a small ounce of dread. While Justin was one of his oldest and dearest friends, he tended to get lost in his own thoughts, excluding the rest of the world in the process, it meant for meager small talk.
“It is actually, we have been tasked to research the lineage of an ancient text that was found in…look, there are Tanya and Adam,” Justin said interrupting himself. “I’ll be right back,” as he walked off to greet the couple.
Ben silently thanked the heavens for the save and began to survey the room as it rapidly filled to capacity. His gaze stopping on a navy blue dress, the air left his lungs as his mind filled with images from his dream.
She was beautiful, as always.
Closing his mouth and turning away to look into his drink, peripherally he watched as she crossed the room stopping to say hello to Kat with a huge hug and a small smile. Her brown hair swaying and bouncing a little against her shoulders as they chatted, the subtle highlights of blonde lit up her face. Her deep brown eyes, olive skin and pink lips made the usual cosmetics unnecessary and he felt his stomach tightening.
Trying desperately to unknot the tightening in his stomach he began to replay their relationship in his mind. Friends, always friends. She was Ryan’s girlfriend, well that was not…she is Rachel. Head cheerleader, prom queen, but not a snob, a nice popular girl who was his best friends girlfriend. They had spent a lot of time together over the years, through school functions, sporting events, parties, they were always together the bunch of them. He used to sit with Rachel when Ryan started racing, hold her hand reassuring her that he was not going to die. They were the closest of friends until Ryan went to Wall street, she left for Europe and he went to Virginia, seven years ago. So why as he watched her float from guest to guest as Kat introduce her to the room, did his stomach continue to knot and his chest tighten at their slow approach? Abruptly she stood in front of him, looking as uneasy as he felt.
“And finally, I believe this one should be a friendly face,” Kat said as Ben looked up at Rachel.
“Ben,” she said the uneasiness he’d seen vanishing, a bright smile spreading across her face.
“Rachel, it has definitely… been a while,” Ben replied pulling her into a warm embrace as Kat got pulled away from their meeting. Feeling Rachel’s back stiffen against him, he quickly released her and she pulled away from him, avoiding his gaze while taking a seat at the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Great,” Rachel answered with another smile as the bartender met them waiting for her order. “Can I have a vodka martini, three olives, please?”
“Another for you, sir?”
“Please,” Ben replied, an awkward silence falling between them as his stomach continued to revolt against him.
“So what have you been up to, Mr. Mitchell? It has been a long time,” she finally said breaking the silence while still staring down into her martini.
“I am working for the FBI out of LA,” Ben said with a hesitant smile, uncomfortable by her use of his last name as if their introduction was random.
“That’s exciting,’ she replied a little too enthusiastically. “And dangerous, if I remember correctly your mother used to get anxiety attacks when you slid for a base off-season. How is she handling the stress of having a Fed in the family?”
“She has come to terms with it,” he started happy for the conversation even if it was about him. “I think she still hopes that it is something I need to get out of my system and as soon as I do I will be a nice lawyer or doctor,” Ben replied making Rachel laugh. “So what have been up to, I haven’t spoken to you since you left for Europe.”
“That…was a long time ago,” she started taking a sip of her drink almost looking reflective. “I finished with my Masters at Berkley and then I was recruited by a New York R & D firm. I have been there ever since…” trailing off, her sight suddenly set beyond him into the crowd. Turning to see what caught her attention glimpsing Ryan’s approach, Ben silently groaned to himself.
“Hey Ben, nice to see that you made it.”
“Hey your self, take a seat. Rachel and I were just getting caught up,” Ben offered watching Rachel carefully. Ryan and Rachel’s breakup had not been pretty and he was curious to see if the sparks had died in seven years.
“Thanks, but I actually need to speak with Rachel,” Ryan replied politely, his eyes never leaving Rachel. She on the other hand tried to avoid his gaze like the plague. “Rachel, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Hey, Ryan, how’s Wall Street?” Rachel asked with an uneasy smile as if knowing that he would not answer.
“Rachel, please?” Ryan said, Ben couldn’t tell if he was pleading or demanding.
“Sorry, Ben, will you excuse us,” Rachel replied reluctantly as she followed Ryan thru the crowd. Ryan tried to lead her toward the exit but she stopped on the dance floor, jus as a slow theme began. The dance from what he could see was slow and stiff. They were talking quietly, whispering into each other’s ears.
Ben quickly finished his drink, desperate to douse the abrupt internal fires of unrecognized jealousy. Not at all accustom to the intense emotions bubbling within his chest, he became oddly restless, especially for a girl he’d known as a friend most of his life and now seemingly a complete stranger .
Rachel abruptly pushed out of Ryan’s embrace, slicing at him with words unknown and turned, leaving his sight.
Internally conflicted as to what he should do, Ben took a breath, it was after all none of his business. The protectiveness in him prevailing he rose from his seat following the direction she ran. It led down a flight of stairs to the bathrooms and an exit. He paused, feeling like an ass and not sure what to do next.
“Rachel,” He called as a small blush came to his face while knocking on the Women’s room door. “Rachel, are you in there?”
“Ben,” she said smiling as she sat against the outside wall of the back of the building.
“Rachel…I…”he stammered quickly turning, finding himself suddenly outside in the parking lot trying to hide the confusion of the moment.
“Ben, are you ok?”
“I…I’m not sure… I came to find you…” realizing that he needed to lay off the whiskey sours.
“I was just getting some air,” holding up her hand revealing a cigarette.
“Yeah, a…right,” Ben replied consciously trying to recompose himself. “Is a…is everything okay with you and Ryan? It looked like I was gonna have to break up a brawl they way you two were acting on the dance floor?”
“Oh, yeah…that…Well, Ryan just can’t seem to let go sometimes, you know? He thinks I am still his Rachel…. that’s all, no big deal. He’ll get over it.”
“Yeah, Ryan was always a little possessive when it came to you,” Ben said feeling himself easing back into the moment.
“He was?” Rachel, asked a relaxed but puzzled look on her face. “I don’t remember that, of course there are a lot of things I don’t remember these days.”
“Are you kidding me,” Ben replied as he took a cigarette from the pack sitting on the air conditioning unit. “If any guy looked at you sideways he was always ready to kill. I saved many lives when you two were an item. Probably why I enjoy being a Fed so much.”
“Do you enjoy it?” Rachel asked suddenly seeming genuinely interested. “I mean really enjoy it? You are putting a lot on the line for your job.”
“Actually it’s funny you ask me that because I have been asking myself the same question. Do I love my job? Yes.” Ben began as Rachel moved toward him lighting his cigarette with her lighter. “Thanks. But somewhere along the way it became everything, and I didn’t make time for anything or anyone else and the rest has seemed to disappear.”
“Like Emily,” Rachel asked hesitantly.
“Like Emily,” Ben replied as he looked to the ground reflectively.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. Kat told me you two had…”
“I miss this…”
“You miss what, standing out back having a smoke just to escape the social party of the year. I don’t happen to remember us doing…”
“No,” Ben replied with a self-conscious laugh, catching her gaze. His tone becoming suddenly serious. “ The old days.”
A hesitant silence falling between them, Ben saw Rachel opening her mouth to answer when they heard the faint sound of a gunshot from inside. Wordlessly, both jolting for the door, Ben reached it first putting his arm up pushing Rachel behind him as he opened it. Creeping inside, they hear the muffled sounds of shouting. Carefully climbing the steps and reaching the top, remaining low to the ground they peered around the corner taking in the apparent gunman. Dresses in a full suit and tie screaming incoherently, he waved a small handgun poignantly around the room. A second man dressed in police blues, trying to calm him down began to stand as a shot exploded from the weapon into the floor.
“You stay here,” Ben, mouthed as he went belly down onto the ground and made a break for the nearest table.
“Don’t you understand!” the man shouted to no one in particular. “The end is coming, and it all starts here in Whitten’s Grove.”
“Son, I understand you are upset,” the officer replied in a calm steady voice. “Why don’t you put the gun down and tell me what you are talking about. I…I promise I will everything I can to help.”
“HELP,” the young man shouted back. “You can’t help! You are all the reason it is happening. No…the only way to stop it is to end it now before it begins!”
“No…that’s…that’s not what you want to do…” the police officer said taking a step forward. “Now just give me the gun…”
Raising the weapon the man fired again, directly at the officer, panic engulfing the room a second shot fired and the assailant fell howling to the ground.
Leaping from behind the table, Ben pinned the suspect to the ground while the officer grabbed the man’s gun.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked his heart racing with adrenaline, looking to the officer who was seemingly unharmed holding the gun.
“Yeah… I thought I was…I thought I was dead…” the officer replied breathless, in utter disbelief. “I don’t know how he missed me.”
* *
“Thankfully no one was hurt and the man, suffering a gunshot to the calf has been taken to the local Whitten’s Grove hospital for treatment. From there he will be taken to jail pending arraignment.” A local reporter said as a live feed from the hotel broadcast the events of the evening to the entire world, or at least those who attended. Bright green cars lined up outside the hotel, all were identified as “the eco cab” the only ecological choice in Whitten’s Grove.
“Cool aren’t they,” David commented stepping up next to Ben as they watched the news crew’s reporting from the valet station. “They are the only cab company in Whitten’s Grove now. All of the cabs are electrically powered thus generating lower fares, less damage to the environment, lower overall maintenance and ninety percent funding from the Fed. The city council was able to lower city taxes by 2% last year. It was the forward thinking that got me into the Mayor’s office.” Ben wasn’t sure how to respond to the comment, the arrogance of it struck him beyond the benefits to the city. “I appreciate what you did in there tonight, you were a real hero.”
Ben took a deep drag of his cigarette waiting for the ‘but’ he knew was coming.
“Don’t get me wrong you certainly saved the day, but be careful Ben. Bravery like yours, as respected as it is can sometimes cause a negative ripple on the local support structure. We don’t want to tarnish the good name of our local police force, do we?” David stated suavely just as the local media caught sight of them, asking if Ben was the man who saved the Police chief and David quickly responded. “Yes, yes this is one of the men who assisted in bringing this awful situation under control.”
“But isn’t it true that he is the officer who disabled and disarmed the man who allegedly took the your engagement reception hostage?” A reporter asked as Ben turned away, catching sight of Rachel in the lights of the hotel as she moved across the parking lot. In all of the confusion, he had completely lost sight of her until now.
“Our Whitten’s Grove police had and have the situation completely under control…” David went on to explain as Ben gave up and went inside. Slowly the frenzy began to subside and after giving his statement numerous times and calling it into his own office Ben walked into the main lobby seeing many of the guests were clearing out, either going home or up to their rooms to…
“Damn it!” he silently cursed, suddenly realizing the one thing he had forgotten to do. Get a room. Walking out into the main lobby, he requested a room for the week. Unfortunately, despite his current celebrity status, all of the rooms had been booked and he would have to stay somewhere else. Trying to negotiate but having no luck, he heard the clicking of heels just behind him.
“Problems,” Rachel asked as he turned watching her walking toward him from the entrance to the bar.
“I forgot to book a room and there are none available,” Ben said with a smirk.
“Really,” Rachel replied with a small smirk. “Come on, Fed,” she added with a laugh and a roll of her eyes. Following her to the elevator and she turned facing him. “What, no luggage?”
“My trip was a little impromptu,” Ben replied feeling suddenly awkward as he stepped into the elevator.
“007, working on a case?” Rachel asked as she chose the floor of her room.
Ben, feeling caught off guard by the bluntness of the remark, was unsure of how to respond, watching her eyebrow raise questioningly. .
“Do you always wait until the last minute to come to a wedding three hours away from where you live, or were you here on business, we’ll call it, and got cornered and decided to grace us with your presence.” She challenged with a sure arrogance and a playful grin. “Wait; let me guess it’s ‘classified’.”
Giving her a sheepish smile but remaining silent, the elevator doors opened.
“Kat told me about meeting you in the coffee shop. Enough said, or is that…enough not said but understood?” Rachel continued to comment leading him to the right. Walking past about a dozen doors on either side, finally reaching her room, she pulled out the card key and unlocked the door pushing it open. Stepping in together, Ben’s cell phone rang.
“Mitchell,” he said watching Rachel set down her keys and purse, kicking off her shoes as she walked toward the open window.
“Brass,” Tom’s voice said as Ben became captivated by the moonlight as it silhouetted the curves of Rachel’s body.
“What’s up?”
“I know that officially the case is closed but I thought you might be interested in this. The coroner’s report came back and we found traces of cyconziline in the Amanda’s blood. And skin cells under her fingernails.”
“Have you run it through Interpol yet?” Ben asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the window. Seeing her delicate features reflected as they basked in the warmth of the celestial beams, her eyes glowing against the brightness, turning into dark pools reflecting an unexpected sadness, desperation. Turning away his breath caught in his throat, a feeling of unforeseen dread consumed him.
“Not yet, I have to get clearance, but I will get it done,’ Tom replied confidently.
“Did anything come out of the visit with the locals,” Ben asked trying desperately to focus.
“Nothing unusual, no known enemies, no past bad relationships and or grudges that the parents knew of. She was only 23, and from looking at the town where she grew up it doesn’t look like there was too much in the way of rampant illegal activity that could have influenced her.”
“Yeah, it’s a quiet town, nothing like that would be prevalent,” Ben replied recalling the crazed lunatic in the ballroom. “Hey I am going to stay in town for a while. I need to follow up on some things. Just keep me in the loop, okay?”
“You got it, Brass” he heard before hanging up the phone. Taking a moment to digest the conversation and he finally turned back to Rachel.
Studying her for a moment, contemplating the rush of need that was filling his body he decided to join her, awing at a full and bright moon that seemingly took up the entire sky.
“Wow…silly, right,” Rachel said self-consciously, realizing he was there and quickly twisted toward the lamp. Catching her hand in his, her eyes closed as she took a deep breath and then looked back to him.
“Not silly. Beautiful,” Ben whispered as his hand lingering on her wrist.
Her cell phone vibrating on the table by the door broke the moment and she pulled away from him quickly crossing the room grabbing the buzzing device. Picking her purse up from off the bed while simultaneously putting her shoes back on, she pulled out a second key for the door.
“I have to go,” she explained. The warmth and vulnerability he had just seen in her eyes disappearing as the cold hardness returned. “I have an errand to run.”
“I’ll go with you,” Ben offered wanting to recapture the moment they had lost.
“Normally I would say sure but its boring work stuff,” she replied hastily while avoiding his gaze.
“At 10pm?”
“Yeah, crazy, huh,” Rachel said with a bright smile. “What can I say, I am committed.
Here is the second key to the room in case you need to leave to get ice or something. Okay gotta go. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get back, nite.”
“Rachel…”
“Bye!” Rachel said cutting him off and rushing out the door.
Sitting on the bed, he exhaled a long breath he realized he had been holding from the moment he touched her. Still slightly perplexed by her exit he pushed it aside understanding the demands of a job. Looking around the room seeing her clothes neatly hung in the closet, her shoes lined up in a row, and finally a small pink bag sitting on the counter beside the sink. Staring at it for a moment he abruptly realized that it was the same pink bag he had given to her for her sixteenth birthday. A wide grin spreading across his face he chuckled aloud and then decided to gather what he could as far as clothes and work items from his car.
Grabbing the second room key he headed down the elevator and out to the parking lot. Stepping just beyond the valet station he caught sight of Rachel moving across the lit area. Instinctively stepping back out of sight, he watched as a plain yellow cab pulled up. Opening the back passenger door she stepped inside and the cab drove off.
Waiting until the cab was out of sight he began the walk to his car. Piling the necessary clothes and toiletries into a duffle back, while replaying the scene of Rachel’s exit again in his mind, something nagged at him about it. Pulling out his laptop, and briefcase he continued to analyze the scene as he headed back inside. Hearing the sound of music and laughter emanating from the bar, hailing the bellhop, Ben handed him a ten spot giving him his room number as curiosities took hold.
Entering the bar to huge applause as Ryan and Justin pulled him brutishly smacking him on the shoulder.
“The man of the hour has arrived,” Justin yelled to the rest of the room.
“You’re favorite and ours, Special Agent Benjamin Mitchell!” Ryan cheered as the room erupted again in shouts of praise and applause.
Nodding in embarrassment, a beer shoved in his hand he relented to the festivity and joined the party.
“That was beyond bravery that was…”
“Suicidal,” Aisha said finishing Justin’s statement walking up and giving him a friendly hug.
“Hey you! Just doing my job,” he replied taking a swig of beer.
“Making the rest of us look like chumps in the face of danger,” Ryan commented taking a swig of his beer as well.
“That’s not fair; he diffused a very difficult situation. He is a hero; quit feeling so sorry for yourself!” Aisha chimed.
“This…this is not self pity. There is no self pity here, just envy and a touch of alcohol.”
“Who would have ever thought that something like that could ever happen here, just goes to further support the decline of our society as a whole” Justin asked
“I wouldn’t have, never in a million years. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this place because of its lack of excitement,” Ryan added.
“Really, I thought you loved it here?” Aisha asked taking a sip of her own cocktail.
“Why would you have ever thought that?” Ryan challenged back as the rest of them laughed.
“You played football, you were student counsel president, and you wrote your graduation speech about the innocence of Whitten’s Grove. In college you started the…” she began to list.
“The foundation for the beautification of Whitten’s Grove,” Justin rolled out regally in assistance.
“Thank you,” she said. “And now you are saying you couldn’t wait to leave?”
“Aisha where have you been? All of those “things” and any others you can remember…”
“Like the annual holiday hospital and senior center visits,” Ben added with a smirk.
“That was all…” suppressing laughter as he thought back on the events, “that was all just a bunch of…well…crap…”
“Seriously,” she asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, I mean all of that shit was planned with the intent of wowing the college boards and get me the hell out of here! Without that I would have never been able to get into Berkley and secure an internship in New York.”
“Where he now resides, making so much money that he can’t keep track of it,” Ben chimed.
“Hell yeah,” Ryan said agreeing shamelessly.
“So you don’t care about this place, at all?” Aisha asked again.
“Nope.”
“That is so…it is so…” she responded speechlessly.
“Cold and callous,” Justin offered, focusing on his own cocktail.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Exactly the way it should be, it’s business,” Ryan reaffirmed simply.
“Your life is a business?” Ben asked, curious about where the conversation had gone.
“Yes.”
“Everything,” Justin asked.
“Everything; Work, relationships, day to day life, it is all apart of my business. I do what is needed to make a profit and cut my losses when the profits decline.”
The arrogance of the statement infuriated Ben tremendously, to think that they were all just numbers to him, profits to keep or sell. He had wondered why Ryan and Rachel had split so many years before but now he had a good idea.
“You are a selfish bastard you know that,” Justin said with a laugh trying to make a point but also lighten the mood.
“Thank you, cheers,” Ryan replied with a clink of his bottle to Justin’s, “shot’s all around, set it up!”
After a round of three tequila shots, Ben’s mind was feeling relaxed and he was not ashamed to admit that he was enjoying it. A wafting of sweet pears and strawberries filling his senses he turned and his heart once again skipped a beat as Rachel entered the bar to join them.
“Shot,” Ryan called seeing her as well, a hungry look prevalent in his eyes.
“Boys, boys, boys,” she said with a grinned sigh as she approached the bar. “What have you all been doing?”
“Waiting for you,” Ryan said suavely, making Ben want to knock him out cold on the spot.
“Is that for me,” she asked holding Ryan’s steady gaze as the bartender placed the filled shot glass in front of them.
“I don’t know, you looking for some heat?” Ryan replied as Ben choked on his drink.
“Cheesy Sheffield, but since you’re offering,” she said with confidence taking the shot down in an easy gulp, never breaking her gaze with him. “You’re such an ass.”
“Rachel, help me load the jukebox,” Aisha said pulling her by the hand across the room.
Calling the bartender over again, Ben glanced over at Ryan who’s mind was visibly planning his attack while Rachel stood with Aisha feverishly whispering and giggling. Her head tilted back slightly, catching his gaze and he quickly turned back to the bar and his beer, cursing the awkwardness of it. Thirty years old and he was acting like a teenager.
In the next moment, her warmth enticing him, she was standing beside him at the bar. Looking over at her, her face soft and yet confident, she motioned to his drink.
“May I?”
“Sure,” he said studying her beguiling expression as she took a sip of his beer. “Can I get you one?”
“I’m good.”
“Where have you been?” he said with an easy smile.
“I was just thinking the same about you,” she replied, locking his gaze.
Someone in the bar called her name and she turned smiling, walking toward the man embracing him in a hug. The two laughed and talked as Ben watched, she paid no particular attention to his gaze, not even returning it as she enjoyed speaking with the stranger.
“So Ben, you have been with the FBI for what, five years now?” Ryan asked.
“Seven,” Ben replied tearing his gaze away from her.
“So how much money you making,” Ryan asked, oblivious to any consideration for privacy.
“Not as much as you.”
“You see this is what I am talking about,” he commented dramatically. “What are your plans for the future?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well there is a bad sign right there, you can’t work for the FBI for the rest of your life!” he replied indignantly.
“Why not,” Justin asked jumping into the conversation as Ben took another drink of his beer and Ryan ordered another for the crowd.
“Because there is no security, I mean honestly I respect what you do and all but are you ever going to have a life? Moreover, let’s be honest from what I see right now you don’t. You need a plan.”
“Alright I’ll bite; I assume you have a suggestion.”
“Well if you want something for your future, a wife, kids and all of that nonsense you should think about taking your skills and your credibility with the bureau and turning it into a lucrative business offering.”
“Such as,” Ben asked interested to see what his response would be.
“Personal security,” Ryan offered up shoving the fresh beer into his hand as Ben shook his head at the notion. “You shake your head now, but if you think about it, it makes sense.”
“Ryan I am not…”
“Just listen to me for a second. You and Emily, you two broke up because she couldn’t handle all of the danger, the late nights and such…”
“Emily and I…”
“Let me finish,” Ryan said cutting him off. “Whatever the reason your current lifestyle is not conducive to a
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
This 122 word review has not been unlocked.
This 83 word review has not been unlocked.
This 76 word review has not been unlocked.
The streets were empty and it has begun to rain. TWO different tenses in the first sentence. Pulling his trench coat up around his neck he exited his truck racing through the rain. PUT a comma after neck. Finally making it beyond the yellow tape he walked into the decrepit warehouse. PUT a comma after tape. The moisture of the air encouraged the pungent smell of urine, blood and stale cigarettes. His eyes watered as he caught his breath and shook of OFF the rain,
“Congratulations on the collar Mitchell,” COMMA after collar. a fellow federal agent called to him as he moved between the individual officers and the small piles of equipment. BETWEEN refers to two things. Among refers to several things.
“Thanks, Mike,” Ben said with an easy smile.
Chestnut brown hair that complimented his olive skin and green eyes, Ben’s Mitchell’s suit and trenchcoat did little to hide his athletic build and muscular frame. THE way this is phrased, you have his hair doing little to hide…..With seven years under his belt at the FBI the congratulations was for their latest conviction. COMMA after FBI. You have sentence fragments and more missing commas just on this first page.
You won’t attract an agent or publisher unless you have this letter-perfect. You need to start with an edit. While I’m not quibbling with your potential, you won’t reach your goals unless you fix these things and all the rest like them. If I were a publisher or agent, knowing what I do about the business, I would not have read beyond the error in the first sentence. Do keep working, refining, and polishing, as well as correcting. I think you have the beginning of something good. Your FBI agents sound too “typical” which maybe FBI types are, but the thing that sounds like an alien has potential. BTW, think you may mean the body was dessicated rather than emaciated, which I don’t think can be used as a verb. I can see why you’re proud because you’ve put a ton of work into this. NOW KEEP GOING!
- add/view comments (2)
This 299 word review has not been unlocked.
This 81 word review has not been unlocked.
Grace Unto You And Peace,
How I Review:
1) I take notes while I read—what you get is immediate.
2) They are notes so you do not pay points for more words.
3) Don’t change anything which I urge to change, if my note does not sing true.
Begin:
P-1-”Pulling his trench coat up around his neck he exited his truck racing through the rain.” Confusion! phrase:”racing through the rain…” attaches to antecedent: “truck…” In other words he is racing through the rain but grammatically it sounds like the truck is racing through the rain.
P-1-”“Ben,” he heard as his partner Tom called to him from across the warehouse.
“Yeah, be right there,” Ben replied, now looking at the remains.”—too long sentences confuse the reader. Read this aloud and remember you action can be sometimes conveyed in shorter simple sentences. Clean like punches.
P-1- Check for fused sentences? Two into one?
P-2-”“Not sure, all women, remains resemble this one, no apparent connection to each other,” Tom replied finally putting the blackberry back into the holster on his hip.” Sentence length…almost too much?
P-2- ” “Yeah,” Ben replied as the forensic’s team began to wrap the body for removal. Careful not to loose any evidence in the process.” I do not understand these sentences? Who is saying “Careful not to loose any evidence in the process.”?
P-3- “composing himself…” is there one habit which the character does which the reader will be able to know what is being felt internally? In other words when this emotion is felt, does the character tug at the middle of his tie…if he is wearing a tie? Or does he slide his fingers down the lapel of his suit if he wears a suit? What character signature does he use to signify what emotion: unease, distress or whatever you feel is the characters emotion. After all you know the character best of all.
P-3- Sentences fused together. Difficult to read. Editor might be able to help you more than I can by siting each difficulty.
P-4- “His gaze traced” Thesaurus for synonym?
P-5- Sentence Fragments…if these are to signify the fragmented thoughts of the protagonist there are effective, but might keep the piece from being published?
p-7-”Looking again, she stood before him with a wide open smile, her eyes glowing, wearing the flower dress he remembered.” confusing. Do you mean> ”He looked again and there she stood. She had that wide, open smile and her eyes glowed and she wore the flower print dress. And it was all the way he remembered her.” I think that these sentences are what you had in mind?
GENERAL: The hook is in pp-10-11-12
Once you get into the action, you are o.k. The comma splices, or fused sentences or run on sentences- they can be culled out with editing. Your actual handling of the story is good. The mechanics of story telling are good, except for the exposition work at the beginning. I have only read 50% of the chapter because any more would cost more. Cheap.
Thank you for allowing me to read this detective/new age thriller…at least that is what I suspect it is?
Agape, kiitos, shalom, Xie Xie, salaam, ja namaste,
Don as “Tauno”
At PP-11-12 the story really begins.
This 125 word review has not been unlocked.
This 213 word review has not been unlocked.
This 1146 word review has not been unlocked.
Showing 1 - 10 of 16
Next →
Review item
Add to faves