Read it here – Say what comes next.
Frank backed away from the bedroom window. So many police cars. It was good that Roya was someplace else. He checked himself—wrong time to start thinking about Roya and Tony. No sign of the police boat yet. “Tatiana, don’t move from this room. If they question you, tell them I held you hostage—you got that?”
“That’ll just get you in deeper trouble.” She sounded scared. Frank needed her calm.
“Don’t worry about that. The way things are going, it won’t cause me any more trouble than I’m already in. The important thing is to keep you out of it. Besides, I just might get away. Don’t say anything about Roya. Admit she’s your sister and she stopped for a visit but that’s all. You don’t even know my last name–just some guy named Frank. Can I count on you for that?”
She paused, then nodded.
“Stay down. If you hear shooting, don’t move. They’ll eventually find you here. Tell them you’re scared. They’ll probably question you. Don’t believe anything they say about Roya or me–it won’t be true.” Frank closed the bedroom door and crept down the steps.
Sun blazed through the windows overlooking the lake—the water only fifty feet from the French door. He’d just slip under the surface and swim away. He knew better than to give himself up. If they put him in prison, that contract on his head would get filled before morning.
The door and two windows crashed in, immediately followed by flashes so bright, he lost his vision and explosions loud enough to cut off his hearing. Stun grenades. He’d used them in training but he’d never been on the recieving end. Disoriented and unable to see or hear, Frank felt the steel cuffs squeeze his wrists behind his back. In the acrid smell of magnesium and aluminum, large hands gripped him, half carried him out the splintered door. Walked him across the lawn. Pushed his head down. As his vision cleared, he found himself in the caged back seat of a car.
Two women dragged Tatiana to another car. Frank saw her hysterical tears but couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in his ears. His car pulled away.
* * *
Agent Harris watched the operation from the back seat of his car. He checked his watch. Thirty three seconds. Satisfying. He had Smith—the main event, and maybe a bonus. “Let’s go, Paul.”
His car rolled out behind the other two and Harris settled back in his seat for the long drive to headquarters. Soon he’d find out everything he wanted to know. He’d get a line on Fetova and take the head off this new organization.
When they crossed the Tri-State Tollway, Paul handed back the phone. Harris grabbed it. “Talk to me.”
“The house is clean. Not even a weapon.”
He scowled at that. “Lock it down till forensics gets there. If Fetova left so much as a flake of dandruff, I wanna know.”
* * *
Harris stepped through the elevator doors, across the hall and into FBI headquarters. When he got to the interrogation room he checked the glass, saw Frank Smith sitting across the table and the back of a head. Thick red hair. Not one of his men and he didn’t like it.
He pushed through the door and faced Dan Mahoney—the pencil pusher from the Organized Crime Taskforce in Washington. Harris leveled his eyes at Smith, showing his command, then turned back to the red-headed man. “Let’s talk in my office, Mahoney.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary and there isn’t time.” That irritating nasal whine made Harris grit his teeth. Mahoney went on: “I’m taking this prisoner to Washington. I’d appreciate a lift to O’Hare.”
Stan Harris just glared at him.
“ Now, Harris.”
HOW TO PLAY–This is an interactive story based on Nate’s game in my novel. You get to say what comes next:
1.) KEEP IT SHORT – It’s easy to play Nate’s game. Just enter your idea as a comment like, “their jeep drives off a cliff.” Don’t worry about form—just suggest the next step in the story. I’ll pick one, write it, and post it as a scene in serial form.
2.) KEEP IT CLEAN – I hold the veto pen. In general, if it wouldn’t fly in an old 60′s Bond movie, then it’s out. Since this is an experiment, I get to add rules as we go along.
3.) SHARE – Your posts are a precious gift to me. Maybe you’ll help write my next novel. If so, I’ll list your name prominently as a contributor. If not, then we’ll just have a great time. I take you at your word that all ideas are your original thoughts. No criticism. No arguments. No lawsuits allowed. Let’s have some fun.