《The Manifest》Chapter 24
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The next morning, things seemed rather normal as Mr. Smith walked into headquarters, but the moment he was inside the place was anything but normal. He stood there with a coffee in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other and watched as the place was buzzing louder than it ever had before. He strolled into his office and sitting in his chair waiting for him was Mr. Carlson. The look on his boss' face more than told the tale of what might have been going on. The last time he saw that look on Mr. Carlson's face someone had tried to escape and almost made it. He was hoping this wasn't the case but walked in and tried to be pleasant.
"Is everything all right, Sir?" he asked quietly, knowing the obvious answer was no.
"Where the hell have you been?" Carl asked with a rather harsh tone, "We've been paging you for the last two hours, and you're late for your regular shift."
"It's Wednesday, Sir." Smith answered trying to be respectfully, "I'm always in late on Wednesday because I meet my trainer at 9am at the gym for a personal workout."
"Well, while you were working out and fetching coffee... everything hit the fan and we're on high alert." Carlson said as he slapped a newspaper down on the table. On the front page was the story about the inferno that had destroyed the building where Willis and Tuck's agency used to reside. As he read it, Carlson filled in some quick blanks, "What is left of that building used to be the private investigation agency of one Willis and Tucker. Now it's burned out completely with numerous casualties, and since then things have pretty much gone downhill."
"How so?" Smith asked, again not trying to be rude, "I mean with Tucker and Willis out of the way, there would be no investigation and the program is safer with them out of the way."
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"That's the problem. While there is no sign of Tucker and many members of his staff, Willis wasn't in the building." Carlson said, watching his man for any indications of surprise.
Smith bit but not the way his boss expected, "How were you able to confirm this?" he asked curious to hear the details.
"One of our men spotted him less than a block away from Jessica Johnson's apartment building. This was less than a few hours after the fire started. He was taking her away in a car when our man approached. That's when things went sideways. One of Mr. Willis' men pulled a gun and open fired on or man."
This is when Smith became genuinely surprised, "He fired on one ofour men?" he repeated.
"Yes," Carlson confirmed, "Fired, as in he shot several times in his general direction before getting into the car and making his escape."
Smith could hardly believe what he was hearing, "Why would they fire on our men like that so recklessly?"
"It's obvious Mr. Willis and his men believe we started the fire at their building." Carlson answered, "So basically any man in a black suit that approaches them is going to be considered a potential threat and therefore is going to be shot at!"
Carlson seemed genuinely pissed off, but took a deep breathe and continued, "Right now, your top priority is to look into this fire and find out what the hell happened. I want to know the cause of this combustion and what made it move so quickly through the damn building."
"But what about the Johnson case?" Smith asked somewhat confused.
"This is a part of the Johnson case until told otherwise." Carlson said somewhat angered by the mere suggestion that it was not, "I'll have someone watch the day to day stuff over her while you look into this for me. I need an answer as soon as possible. That's why I'm putting you on the job."
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"Thank you, Sir." Smith said, aware of what he was being told to do, "I'll find the answers to this as soon as possible."
Smith then watched as his boss nodded and then stormed out of the room and was gone. Smith put down his coffee and donuts and took a seat to settle down for a moment. He would have to contact his people with the police and fire department to get the 411 on what happened over there. He'd get an exact body count and the names of any identified bodies, and then go from there. He knew Willis would be pissed off if something like this happened, but to shoot at them? That seemed so uncharacteristic of him. Smith figured they might have to sit back and see what the man did next, but until then he had to do his own work to avoid suspicion.
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Hive Consort
Kadi was in a terrible mood, his girlfriend just broke up with him for an extremely weird reason, he wanted to wait until they were married to do anything bedroom related. He gets himself into a depressive funk, and during a walk he didn't notice the crossing signal until it was too late. Now in a new world he will find true love from one of the strangest places, and together they will build a new empire. This is my first real story, any corrections or ideas in the comments are welcome.
8 108Druidification
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8 157Ascended Dark Sovereign
In a world ravaged by war between two opposing types of practioners, the Magus and The Martial Strength Cultivators, lives a young boy with genius intelligence and exceptional potential. With his parents being ripped from his arms by war, he must rise up alone to conquer the Primal World and the Heavens as the Ascended Dark Sovereign.
8 149Flutterdash: The Forbidden Love
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8 66Write Better: Tips and tricks
The guide for aspiring fiction writers who want to improve, sharpen, review, and/or learn. Warning! This book encourages editing and contains many tips that often require revision. Practice makes perfect, and it's good to workout your mental muscles. The more you do now, the better your writing will be later (because you'll correct yourself *before* you get it on paper). If you think your writing is perfect or you're lazy or unwilling to try new shoes on your baby, just turn away now. You'll find this guide about as useful as hoarding frozen peas.
8 202Silent Poetry
(#1 in metaphor)At late nights, I could see those choked words rushing out of my throat-shouting their presence in the ink of the broken pen. They are awake to be in my heart and on this paper. In the soft yellow light of the lamp, I'm weaving them again, breaking the captivity of time. Oh, I'm still writing.
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