Double Cross.

Authors Avatar

                                  Double Cross

           The smoke rising like steam from the open manhole, gave a curtain to a dark figure dressed in black, long cloak floating at the back .His presence scared away the crowding street cats lurking and prowling in the dark alley dustbins. The fall of the dustbin lid echoed through the street like a symbol in an orchestra. Cars seldom passed this area of town, notorious for crime. His destination, a small entrance bordered by neon lights which echoed through out the mist. As he neared the door a small spy hole slid open. The man spoke his words, muffled through his black scarf. After several seconds the doors locks slid open and the door followed. The glowing mist sucked into the open door. A man tower approached the light, built as wide as he was tall. Final checks were made on the man and he was allowed to enter.

          The radio was on. The time read quarter to ten. A man confessing his hard life working in an office for a boss he hates to the number one radio station in the area. These one-to-one chats with the air host keep the lonely people entertained at night. Detective Ventura turned it off and sighed. He sat peering into the dark alley where our mysterious character had disappeared moments before. The car door opened. A small man with mousy brown hair round chubby cheeks entered the car. His appearance mimicked his attitude. It was his first day. An uneasy silence surrounded the car, rain started to fall slowly and steadily onto the windscreen. It got heavier with time and the silence grew. The repetitive motion of the wipers swishing back and forth was causing Malcolm to sweat. Ventura noticed Malcolm’s agitated motion. He decided he had to break the ice.

“So how’d u feel first day out on the job. It’s a hell of a lot different from the training aint it?” Ventura said breaking the silence.

“Oh yeah, It’s really exciting for me……what you think our next move is sir?” stuttered Malcolm.

“Well son we gotta sit tight for a while. We don’t want go bustin in there when we aint got no leads” he said proudly feeling wise and experienced. Their conversation was interrupted by a gunshot.

Join now!

            The room was small but had many doors. He offered to take his coat, but he refused sternly. A look of suspicion was exchanged between the two unlikely gentlemen, when the moment was torn by a voice so strong and deep that it demanded respect.

“Who the hell is it Mike? Are you gonna show um through or do I have to get off my death bed to meet him.” This voice came from a small silver haired man with definite Italian roots. His skin slightly faded from tan to grey. The man ...

This is a preview of the whole essay