The man crumpled, choking and gasping. The knife's blade protruding out of his neck. The hiss of liquid under pressure swiftly drowned out the sounds of his struggles, his last breath a drawn out sigh as if it were a balloon with a slow leak. David stepped back, his face impassive, and the blood spray settled into a fine red mist atop the refuse of the alleyway.
Once the struggles had stopped, he reached into the man's jacket, snapping the chord that reached up to the thin patch that was almost indistinguishable from his fair skin. Reaching further, he drew out a small patch from an inner pocket. the black bat on the blue globe stared back at him. "GRU," he spat. "You'd think SPETSNAZ would be more subtle." Stooping, he donned the man's blackout gloves, he removed the broken wire, the recording equipment, the minuscule camera, the long knife, the Markov, anything that could implicate Russia. When his search was complete, he pulled the knife blade from the man's artery, the sickly gasp of air that accompanied it shot a spurt of blood onto the stolen gloves. David cursed in disgust. Wiping the blood from the blade with a handkerchief, he reattached the blade to it's hilt.
One last chore to do. With a disheartened sigh, David pulled out several of his own forged documents he had been planning to switch to at a later date, and slipped them into the bloodstained jacket. The man was now Nicholas Ivanovitch, store clerk, 32, nondescript, no family, just bought an apartment on the east-side. Nobody would miss him. A few store coupons and a half empty diet-coke later, and he was just another mugging gone bad. Pocketing the $200, David walked away. Russia, the city authorities, nobody would ever know Nicholas was even born. The KGB would see to that. At least they had standards. Sending a kid, what were they thinking in GRU?
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Fantastic imagery! The last entry was intense and very interesting, i can't wait to find out who this guy really is! Where did he come from, what is he doing here, what makes him so paranoid? How are you planning on making this character fit into the town?
ReplyDeleteI loved the imagery in here. Especially the attention to detail in the last post. I think that you should have your character do something more than just be paranoid in the next coupla posts. I think you should maybe talk to Jacen about hiring him to break into somewhere? I would enjoy more collaboration in later posts with more people.
ReplyDeleteI also enjoyed the imagery of this post, it was very obvious but not necessarily like you were specifically trying to incorporate imagery simply because it's a literary device. It fit in your post unlike when a writer writes for paragraphs about eating a peach or something. Even though it was frightening (not in a bad way, just saying), the post was really intriguing. I'd like to know more about his history and where he's been and what he's done, because he sounds like a very well-read, experienced man. Also, It'd be interesting to see how he interacts with others in the town.
ReplyDelete"Hey Froyd, what's new?" Alexander said, stepping into Deputy Froyd Delson's office.
ReplyDeleteFroyd gave him a very weary look in response.
"That good, huh? Word on the street is that Donald Fish randomly got shot in the calf." Alex said, thinking back to when he's followed Fish's example of heading over to package store after some stupid kid pulled the fire alarm.
"Yeah, that whole mess is really weird. We don't even know if Donald was the target. Anyways, the good news is that we finally got J Rizzle on a petty solicitation of prostitution charge, but we're gonna have to get more evidence of his drug dealings and his connection to some of the murders he's implicated in if we're gonna get to keep him."
"Good, good. Drug dealings, does that mean you need my help" Alex asked, hoping his good friend Jeremiah Taylor wasn't involved.
"Nah, not really, we dont really have the time to send someone in undercover."
"Any more good news?" Alex said, breaking the awkward silence.
"Yeah. That guy who kidnapped and killed that little girl last year is loose. Great news, right?"
"Damn. That's horrible. How'd he get out?"
"I don't even want to talk about it. These stupid, lazy prision guards are gonna be the death of me, ya know?"
"Mmmhm," Alex gruted his affirmation.
"And of course there's the usual mugging, but the one in the alleyway by the townhomes was particularly gruesome. We think there's something we don't know, something more to that whole ordeal, but I've got more important things to worry about right now. Like that fucker being on the loose again."
"Mmmhm," Alex grunted again.
"Well....uh...thanks for coming in today, but I don't think we need you."
"Oh, well, uh, I actually just came in to get my paycheck."
"Ah," Froyd said, a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes.
They stared awkardly at each other for a while, until, fortunately for both, Froyd was called away. Back outside in the crisp fall air, Alex was heading towards Jupiter Appartments. "God, I miss my home, " he thought bitterly, "not this godforsaken whole in the wall. I'm not even doing what I wanted to do here. I'm a fucking narc. Not ridding the world of bad guys with vicious plots, but selling out guys who are just trying to make a living. Maybe I should just go home...." His mind wandered back home, to what drove him away and what would be waiting for him when he got back, then he quickly dismissed the thought from his mind. He trudged as thoughtlessly as he could manage the rest of the way towards Jupiter Appartments.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
ReplyDeleteThe Jaguar
Fanny Mae walked into The Jaguar and was greeted by a greasy looking man in a fedora hat. As she stepped inside, the door shut behind her, drowning out the sound of a crazy man yelling about how he is Jesus.
"Can't be too careful in this town, there are a lotta crazies out there." the man grinned at her through several gold teeth. Fanny Mae nodded politely in agreement. He continues, "I mean just today, I saw a man walking around in a long trench coat and a hat coverin' his face, don't think I've seen 'im before. I'm sure he had something to do with that dern Donald gettin shot straight in his leg."
"That's very sad," Fanny Mae uttered. "So you said something about a job? What would I be doing, waiting tables or something. I'm real good with people and I am real-" The man laughed, cutting her off. Fanny Mae just stared at him in confusion.
"Honey, you got the wrong idea, this ain't no fancy country club, we don't go no food."
"You mean this ain't a restaurant?"
"You're obviously new to this town, sweetheart. The Jaguar is the best damn strip joint on this side of anywhere! We got great numbers, we even added a midget stripper, that's the best fuckin' shit I've seen in a long time! We got lots of costumers, if you look over there you'll see the wall with some of our regulars on it."
Fanny Mae was shocked into silence. She studied the wall with the pictures and names of all The Jaguar frequenters. She read, Danny Hiser, Paulo Nadie, Andrew Underwood, David Borisovich Sokolov, and Bernard Rattifice. She turned away from all of the scrutinizing eyes, staring and peering through her. Or at least through her clothes.
"Sweetcakes, listen I don't have all day, do you want this job or not?"
"I am not your sweetcakes, and I absolutely don't want such a horrible job! Exposing myself in front of vile, sleazy old men? No thank you." Fanny Mae turned and headed for the door, but the man grabbed her arm and spun her quickly around to face him.
"I guess you're pretty strong minded, I can't make you do anything. But you should take this job, you've got a nice, tight ass, I just know you'll bring in a load of dough. The offer stands, come back anytime," he smiles mischievously "...sweetcakes." Fanny Mae yanked her arm free from the man's grip and stormed out in a rage.
Fanny Mae stepped out into the cool fall air, but her face was still burning red with anger and embarrassment. Just as she was about to turn the corner onto Dublin Avenue, she hears a several cops cars, with blaring sirens, pull up to the Jaguar. They roughly handcuffed a man, threw him into the cop car, and sped away. Fanny Mae was staring cars speeding away, when a man came up behind her. He said, "The guy they just handcuffed, he's some famous rapper, I forget his name. He's been hiding out at The Jaguar for days. They finally got him." Fanny Mae turned around and peered into a familiar pair of eyes. She had seen this man on the wall of The Jaguar not 5 minutes ago. She recognized him as David Borisovich Sokolov." Without saying a word, Fanny Mae looked down and quickly walked away.
"I was just trying to be nice," David yelled after her. "whatever!"
Men, Fanny Mae thought furiously to herself. They can never just leave a woman to herself. And to think, that man wanted me to be a stripper! Ha! Like that would suit me... who would possibly want all that attention for being a naked whore? I just don't get it. I mean I'm sure the job pays, nice...and you do get to meet a lot of men. But I'm sure they're all shady and think they're big hotshots throwin' all that money around! Me? A stripper? Please...
Fanny Mae walked up to the Jupiter Apartment Building, narrowly missing the construction being done around a manhole outside. She ascended the steps and burst into her apartment, still in a rage from what had happened earlier. She collapsed into a chair and let out a big, exhausted sigh. Just as she was about settled, she heard I loud, rather violent knock on her door.