| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted August 17, 2009 | Chapters: |
3 4 -5- 6... 
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An FBI agent searches for the truth...
A chapter in the book Flash Fiction
Playing By The Rules
by Begin Again
Flash Fiction Contest Winner
"James, you've done one hell of a job. Just a few more weeks. You can take a long-deserved vacation."
"I've been living on a beach, Colin. I don't need a vacation. I need to see Carrie. It's been nine months." James paced as he talked to his boss.
He was in Middleton to infiltrate a ring of smugglers, but the only thing illegal here was 100% pure alcohol from the backwoods of the Smokies.
"Just a weekend, Colin. Nobody but Carrie will know I was there."
"She understands you're undercover. She's the only one I told. Everyone thinks you died in France when you took those two bullets to the chest."
"Don't remind me. Somebody tipped them off. Trust me, that ain't over yet."
"You're not thinking straight. What if they've got eyes watching you? You want to lead them to Carrie, jeopardize her life?"
"Colin, there isn't anyone watching me."
"You willing to risk her life?" Colin waited, knowing the answer.
"This is a waste of time. I know everyone here. No one is a smuggler."
"Word is a shipment left Cuba and it's in the Atlantic. Just be patient. You're about to crack this case. When you do, you'll be able to write your own ticket. I can guarantee you that. Just imagine the life you can offer Carrie."
"She's not going to wait around for me forever. I can't even talk to her. I'm just asking for one day."
"Tell you what, I'll send Tanner down. If my information is right, you could wrap this thing up next week."
"I've been doing this job long enough to know we are on the wrong track. Something's not right!"
"Listen, I'll be tied up all weekend, but Monday, I'll get Tanner to cover for you. You can introduce him as your brother. Get the town folk comfortable with him; then you can do what you want. Just another week, that's all I'm asking."
"Okay...You get Tanner down here next week. That's it for me. Am I making myself clear, Colin. I'm done."
"I'll let that little threat slide because you're stressed. But don't you ever forget I'm the boss."
The line went dead. James slammed the receiver down. Director of the FBI or not, James knew his boss was wrong.
His thoughts drifted to Carrie. He'd been on security detail for her father, Senator Ramsey, when he'd met her. They were attending a wedding for one of France's dignitaries. As Carrie's escort, he'd spent days by her side. Their passion for each other blossomed into a whirlwind romance. He'd never felt that way about any other woman. After being shot, he'd gone from the hospital, to rehabilitation, and then undercover. Everyone thought he was dead except Carrie. Colin had agreed to tell her the truth.
Sleep wouldn't come to James. Somehow, he had to see Carrie. Finally, devising a plan, he tossed a few items in a backpack and pointed his car toward home.
Twelve hours later, James stood across from St. Patrick's Cathedral. It was Saturday and Carrie was a creature of habit. She'd be there for confession. The streets were busy today. No one would notice a man sitting on a park bench, reading a newspaper.
The church bells rang. People gathered on the church steps. He strained his neck, trying to see Carrie in the crowd. The newspaper fell to the ground and he reached for it.
Carrie's smiling face stared at him from the social section. The headlines read, Senator's daughter marries FBI Director today.
James's head snapped back toward the church. People were throwing rice at the bride and groom as cameras snapped everywhere.
France
Angry and betrayed, James made a plan. There would be no honeymoon tonight. Tomorrow’s headlines would read, Wedding Crasher Puts Groom in Hospital. He folded the paper and left it on the bench.
"James, you've done one hell of a job. Just a few more weeks. You can take a long-deserved vacation."
"I've been living on a beach, Colin. I don't need a vacation. I need to see Carrie. It's been nine months." James paced as he talked to his boss.
He was in Middleton to infiltrate a ring of smugglers, but the only thing illegal here was 100% pure alcohol from the backwoods of the Smokies.
"Just a weekend, Colin. Nobody but Carrie will know I was there."
"She understands you're undercover. She's the only one I told. Everyone thinks you died in France when you took those two bullets to the chest."
"Don't remind me. Somebody tipped them off. Trust me, that ain't over yet."
"You're not thinking straight. What if they've got eyes watching you? You want to lead them to Carrie, jeopardize her life?"
"Colin, there isn't anyone watching me."
"You willing to risk her life?" Colin waited, knowing the answer.
"This is a waste of time. I know everyone here. No one is a smuggler."
"Word is a shipment left Cuba and it's in the Atlantic. Just be patient. You're about to crack this case. When you do, you'll be able to write your own ticket. I can guarantee you that. Just imagine the life you can offer Carrie."
"She's not going to wait around for me forever. I can't even talk to her. I'm just asking for one day."
"Tell you what, I'll send Tanner down. If my information is right, you could wrap this thing up next week."
"I've been doing this job long enough to know we are on the wrong track. Something's not right!"
"Listen, I'll be tied up all weekend, but Monday, I'll get Tanner to cover for you. You can introduce him as your brother. Get the town folk comfortable with him; then you can do what you want. Just another week, that's all I'm asking."
"Okay...You get Tanner down here next week. That's it for me. Am I making myself clear, Colin. I'm done."
"I'll let that little threat slide because you're stressed. But don't you ever forget I'm the boss."
The line went dead. James slammed the receiver down. Director of the FBI or not, James knew his boss was wrong.
His thoughts drifted to Carrie. He'd been on security detail for her father, Senator Ramsey, when he'd met her. They were attending a wedding for one of France's dignitaries. As Carrie's escort, he'd spent days by her side. Their passion for each other blossomed into a whirlwind romance. He'd never felt that way about any other woman. After being shot, he'd gone from the hospital, to rehabilitation, and then undercover. Everyone thought he was dead except Carrie. Colin had agreed to tell her the truth.
Sleep wouldn't come to James. Somehow, he had to see Carrie. Finally, devising a plan, he tossed a few items in a backpack and pointed his car toward home.
Twelve hours later, James stood across from St. Patrick's Cathedral. It was Saturday and Carrie was a creature of habit. She'd be there for confession. The streets were busy today. No one would notice a man sitting on a park bench, reading a newspaper.
The church bells rang. People gathered on the church steps. He strained his neck, trying to see Carrie in the crowd. The newspaper fell to the ground and he reached for it.
Carrie's smiling face stared at him from the social section. The headlines read, Senator's daughter marries FBI Director today.
James's head snapped back toward the church. People were throwing rice at the bride and groom as cameras snapped everywhere.
Angry and betrayed, James made a plan. There would be no honeymoon tonight. Tomorrow’s headlines would read, Wedding Crasher Puts Groom in Hospital. He folded the paper and left it on the bench.
Flash Fiction Contest Winner |
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