Prologue:

 

 

 

Blake knew he was being followed. Hard not to tell when the guy is about twenty paces away and following you through the back alleys of San Francisco. Blake hated being tailed. It made him nervous. God knows what that guy behind him had on him.

 

 

 

Blake walked along a street with traffic backed-up terribly. He looked around for a place to get away from his tail and found a bakery. He opened the wooden door and walked inside. A couple people sat at booths along the walls of the bakery and at the front of the business was a wooden shelf with all the baked goods stacked on to specific shelves.

 

 

 

A man in a button down shirt and raggedy jeans came from the kitchen door and went behind a counter next to the shelves of baked foods. He typed a code into the cash register so it would allow him to open it and asked Blake:

 

 

 

"Have you figured out what your having sir?"

 

 

 

Blake looked over at a white board on the wall behind the counter, where a list of coffee's caught his eye.

 

 

 

"I'll take an Espresso."

 

 

 

"Coming up sir."

 

 

 

The man at the counter walked to a coffee machine and began to make Blake's Espresso.

 

 

 

Blake looked behind him. His tail's face was in full view in an antique store window across the street. The tail was on his cell phone.

 

 

 

The man came back with Blake's coffee. Blake paid him and walked out of the building. He began to continue his walk down the street when a Hearse screeched to a halt in an alley close to him. Blake unbuttoned his button down shirt and opened up a shoulder holster beneath his armpit. He pulled the Colt .45 out and buttoned his shirt back up.

 

 

 

He walked toward the hearse. He looked behind himself and saw his tail coming behind him, Uzi in hand, hidden from view behind a dinner jacket but in plain site of Blake.

 

 

 

The passenger side door of the hearse opened and a tall man in a completely black outfit walked out. He flashed a grin at Blake, showing his yellow teeth. The man walked to the back of the hearse and opened the doors. He pulled a black marble coffin from the hearse and laid it on the pavement of the alley.

 

 

 

The tail put the Uzi against Blake's back, the cold steel of the gun shocking black for a second.

 

 

 

The tail whispered into Blake's ear, "Why are you here?"

 

 

 

Blake was about to respond when the large man grabbed Blake by the neck and threw him against the Hearse.

 

 

 

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?" He asked in a menacing and loud tone.

 

 

 

"The government." Blake said as he tried to regain his breath from the crash into the Hearse, " The government sent me here to kill you. They cannot allow you to buy nuclear missiles from the Russian Mafia."

 

 

 

"And why do they care?" Asked the tail.

 

 

 

"Because, they know you will use them to start a war. A war against Korea. You will blow up the dictators palace in Korea and a war will start with the U.S. Then, the Russian Mafia will come in and with their new missiles, somehow take over America."

 

 

 

"Yes but what do you think we get out of it?"

 

 

 

"You get a position in the new government of the U.S."

 

 

 

"And what if this turns into the next World War? Because thats the plan."

 

 

 

"Why are you telling me this? I will kill you!" Blake shot his gun at the tail. The tail fell to the ground. The large man grabbed for Blake but Blake was fast and shot him in the head, splattering his brains all over the alley.

 

 

 

Blake got up and began to limp away when the drivers side door of the Hearse opened and the driver shot a dart into Blake's neck. Blake instantly fell.

 

 

 

"Black mamba poison. Very dangerous." Said the driver and he dragged Blake's body against the coffin. He opened the lid and threw Blake's body into it and placed the lid back on the coffin. He hauled it into the trunk and drove away, leaving his companions bodies in the alley.

 

 

 

****

good! Good! please continue!

Man.. you keep hoping from story to story like a horde of rats jumping between a fleet of sinking ships. However, I do seem to like this one..

Man.. you keep hoping from story to story like a horde of rats jumping between a fleet of sinking ships. However, I do seem to like this one..

 

 

 

LOL...true enough.

chapter 1: mission dossier

 

 

 

Jack Tylers walked into the hospital room of the NSA, where the body of one of Agent Blakes murderers lay on a bed. The bed was in the middle of this plain white room with thousands of medical trinkets everywhere. Jack looked at the body on the bed and was about to throw up. He held it back and looked again. The huge fat body had incisions along the arms and legs, and on a tray near the bed lay a couple of computer chips.

 

 

 

Jack walked to the tray and picked one up. It was a tracking chip. Whoever hired this guy put a tracking chip on him. Jack put that one down and picked up another chip, this one with poison capsules all over it. Enough to kill a man.

 

 

 

A deep voice behind Jack said, "Hard to believe he could sustain all the surgeries to get these chips inside of him. All that surgery would have made any man go nuts. Those are all from his legs. We are going to do his arms today and might do his stomach."

 

 

 

Jack looked the guy over again and then left saying, "Sorry boss, I gotta go to the crapper."

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Jack met with his boss, Frank Birel, inside Franks huge workroom. Murals were all over the walls and the window had a clear view of the white house. He had a couple phones. One for private conversations with the president, and one for private conversations with his agents. His desk was of a good make with papers strewn about it.

 

 

 

Jack sat in an office chair across the desk from Frank.

 

 

 

"This mission we are about to send you on will have to be as quiet as possible. We cannot have any other branch of the NSA on the case. We especially don't want MI6 out here. We need you to do an inside job. Your going to find this mafia in L.A, and follow them to their hideout. There, you will get to any papers they have telling us about what the hell is going on."

 

 

 

"Sir, it may be hard to do a covert mission inside a Mafia's hideout. You know how many people are inside those things?"

 

 

 

"How would you know."

 

 

 

"OPERATION: MAFIA BOSS. 1999. New York City."

 

 

 

"Oh, yeah. Well, do your best to be covert."

 

 

 

"O.K. But how will I find them?"

 

 

 

"You won't, they will find you."

 

 

 

"And then I try to survive ad follow them to their base?"

 

 

 

"Or you can always interrogate one of the ones you pick up."

 

 

 

"When am I leaving?"

 

 

 

"Tonight."

 

 

 

"What weapons."

 

 

 

"Oh the standard. Silenced colt pistol. Standard machine guns. A good ol' double edged knife. Our newest toy, the electric gun."

 

 

 

"Whats it do?"

 

 

 

"You shoot it and someone and it electrifies them. Keep it on them to long though, and they will burst into flames."

 

 

 

"Brutal."

 

 

 

"Yes very. Now go pack your bags. I will be in touch."

C-O-N-T-I-N-U-E!!!

 

 

 

"This mission we are about to send you on will have to be as quiet as possible. We cannot have any other branch of the NSA on the case. We especially don't want MI6 out here. We need you to do an inside job. Your going to find this mafia in L.A, and follow them to their hideout. There, you will get to any papers they have telling us about what the hell is going on."

 

 

 

"Sir, it may be hard to do a covert mission inside a Mafia's hideout. You know how many people are inside those things?"

 

 

 

"How would you know."

 

 

 

"OPERATION: MAFIA BOSS. 1999. New York City."

 

 

 

"Oh, yeah. Well, do your best to be covert."

 

 

 

"O.K. But how will I find them?"

 

 

 

"You won't, they will find you."

 

 

 

"And then I try to survive ad follow them to their base?"

 

 

 

"Or you can always interrogate one of the ones you pick up."

 

 

 

"When am I leaving?"

 

 

 

"Tonight."

 

 

 

"What weapons."

 

 

 

"Oh the standard. Silenced colt pistol. Standard machine guns. A good ol' double edged knife. Our newest toy, the electric gun."

 

 

 

"Whats it do?"

 

 

 

"You shoot it and someone and it electrifies them. Keep it on them to long though, and they will burst into flames."

 

 

 

"Brutal."

 

 

 

"Yes very. Now go pack your bags. I will be in touch."

 

 

 

My only complaint- Long talking parts such as this can be hard to follow.. I suggest you break them up somehow or at least(after a few lines or so) remind us who's talking..