Childhood dreams...
A poem about dreams.
Pays: 8 points.
52 member cents
Contact Us      
         Join today or login
You are using an outdated version. Writing will not be shown properly in many cases. Click here to use the current version.

Status

New Here?
Sign Up
Fast! Three Questions.

Already a member?
Login


Contests

80 Word Flash Fiction
Deadline: Tomorrow!

Rhyming Poem
Deadline: In 3 Days

Loop Poetry Contest
Deadline: Apr 12th

Haiku
Deadline: Apr 15th

Dribble Flash Fiction
Deadline: Apr 20th


Rank

Poet: None
Author: None
Novel: None
Reviewer:None
Votes: None





Excellent
Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
Back to las vegas
The ts detectve
The team are all dead-boss by dmt1967
 Category:  Mystery and Crime Fiction
  Posted: July 11, 2012      Views: 661
Chapters:
 ...9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21... 

Print It
Print It
Save to Bookcase
View Reviews
Rate This
Make Reader Pick
Promote This


 DMT1967 
IN PRINT 


 ABOUT
DMT1967 

I live in Chessington which is in England and I love to write, I hope to make a carreer out of this if im good enough.

Portfolio | Become A Fan
Background
The ts detective,Jet,had discovered her ex wife's murder and that the ex wife was a spy she has teamed up with the spy team to catch a traitor and she is close


It was not the cheeriest of journeys back to Las Vegas. Ben flew the helicopter, while I sat in the back, pondering on what had occurred in the last couple of days.

What started as a routine investigation had turned into something far bigger than I could have ever imagined. I’d been kidnapped, the van that I was in had crashed, I’d nearly been blown up, and I’d been in a shootout. What would happen next? I wondered.

All the team were dead, apart from Ben. Had we killed the traitor or was he still alive? Was he flying the helicopter? I didn’t know or care at this precise moment. To be honest I was too tired to feel anything, the only thing on my mind at that specific moment was a hot bath, and a nice warm soft bed.

As I looked out of the window, I could see the landing lights of the airport coming up fast. I heaved a sigh of relief-we’d be on the ground soon.

I heard Ben on the radio, asking for permission to land. They must have said yes because we landed soon after, Ben turned off the engine and we waited for the rotors to stop turning. We got out of the helicopter and he walked around to stand by me.

“I am going to headquarters,” he began, “to make my report.”

I just nodded.

“Do you want to come or shall I drop you at the hotel?” he added, as an afterthought.

“Can you drop me at the hotel please?” I answered. “I am dead on my feet.”

“Certainly, Jet,” he replied, “I think that’s a good idea. You look all done in and a few good hours of sleep will be the best thing for you.”

He looked concerned, but I saw relief in his eyes. Why was he so eager that I went back to headquarters? Was it because he was concerned for me? Or was it something much more sinister than that? At this moment in time I didn’t have a clue and, to be fair, I didn’t really care. 

When we arrived at the hotel it was just getting dark. It had been a long day.  Harry stayed in the car, while Ben got out and walked me to the door of the building. He said goodbye then and as he and Harry left, I entered the hotel.

The walk up to the reception desk was long and tedious. I pressed the bell, and the receptionist appeared. From the look on his face he was surprised to see me, but he smiled and gave me my key.

The lift came as soon as the button was pressed, and I got in. As the doors opened on my floor, I staggered to the door, opened it, and collapsed on the bed. I was hungry, tired, and my whole body hurt. My bruises had bruises. I ran a bath, and while waiting, phoned for room service. Stripping my dirty, smelly clothes off, I got into the bath, and slid into the warm water. The water relaxed and soothed my battered body. Everything that had happened in the last 48 hours washed away.

This felt good. For the first time in ages, I felt like a woman. Dirty and grimy, always made I feel real- guy like and I hated that. Living as a guy for most of my life, but being a woman inside had been tough. When I had the operation I was free to live my life as the true me, but when I felt the other way, for me; it was like I was reverting back to my guy stage and that was not going to happen-not in this lifetime anyway.

I was deep in thought when there was a knock on the door. I put on the bathrobe, and wrapped it around me. I went to open the door, room service had arrived.

The waiter came in. He put the food on the table in my room, and left.  I went to the bedroom to get dressed. The door closed behind him. A few moments later it opened again. Thinking the waiter had forgotten something I paid no attention to it.

 I walked into the other room; the waiter must have come back for his tip. He was nowhere in sight. As I turned around to go back into the bedroom and finish getting dressed, something caught my eye. I half turned, and felt this blow glance off my head. Falling backwards, momently stunned, I caught a glimpse of a knife coming towards me. Groggily I scrambled to reach my gun which was in my handbag on the bed, but the guy was too quick for me and reached out his hand grabbed my leg. I kicked out in a blind panic, and must have made contact, as he grunted and released me.

My handbag lay on the bed. I dived for it. In my haste I fumbled with the clasp. The masked man recovered from the kick. Knife in hand, he charged after me. I slammed the door shut, hoping that might give me more time. I managed to open my handbag and reach for my gun. With the gun pointed it at the vicinity of the door, as it opened, I fired. He stepped into the room, his knife glittered in the moon light that shone into the bedroom; I shot him at point blank range. He looked down at the hole in his chest, surprise in his eyes, and then he fell to his knees and hit the floor. He was dead before he hit the ground, blood poured out of the chest from the bullet hole.

I sat on the floor, my whole body shook like a leaf, my relaxed feeling well and truly gone now. A nasty thought crossed my mind. No one knew I was here except Ben and The boss. Which means, the masked man must be one of them, but which one was it? At that precise moment I was too scared to find out.
 
 
 
 
 

Recognized

The book continues with The truth or is it? . We will provide a link to it when you review this below.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Share or Bookmark
Print It Print It Save to Bookcase View Reviews Make Reader Pick Promote This
© Copyright 2016. dmt1967 All rights reserved. Registered copyright with FanStory.
dmt1967 has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

You need to login or register to write reviews.

It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

Interested in posting your own writing online? Click here to find out more.



Write a story or poem and submit your work to receive reviews on your writing. Publish short stories on our book writing site and enter the monthly contests. Guaranteed reviews for everything you write and you will be ranked. Information.


  Contact Us

© 2016 FanStory.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement