"According to sources in the Canadian Internal Security Agency, the recent mass killings are related..." Francis tossed the newspaper card down with an annoyed sigh. "According to sources...we’re not even officially involved in this yet, and we’ve already got sources."
J.D. glanced at him, then went back to her copy of the paper, and read. "Since the formation of CISA in 2034, the agency has handled everything from attempted assassination to paranormal activities. Has a lone gunman now got them stumped?" She touched a tab in the corner of the card so it would go to the rest of the article. "Hey, there's a good pic of you."
Francis took the card from her. "Nice one. Even better one of you lying on your back."
"At least I'm dressed in this one."
"Yeah." He stopped and looked. "Wait, what?"
"Anything in on the shootings?"
"No, wait." Francis stared at her. "There are pictures out there of you on your back, not dressed?"
"I'm joking."
"I'm disappointed." He grabbed a computer chip and passed it to her. "Newest reports from the regular police."
She put one of the reports in the computer and read, then slipped the other small disk in behind the first and called up the information on that one. "Do you have the security footage?"
"Uhhh." He looked through the small disks on his desk. He grabbed one and held it up. "Media isn't giving up any of their footage without a warrant."
"When do we pick up the warrant?"
"Judge Hamner wants to talk to us before he signs."
"Yeah?" She didn't look up from her reading. "When?"
"About an hour."
"Sounds good." J.D. glanced up. "Care to explain how we got a warrant if we’re not officially involved?"
"I bullshitted some interdepartmental cooperation based on the Deputy Minister’s involvement." He smiled slightly. "We’re suppose to turn over anything we find."
"Eventually."
"If I feel generous enough at the time." Francis slipped the disk with the security footage into a small handheld computer, put it on his desk, then picked up a pair of dark glasses and put them on. The images from the computer started to play on the inside lens of the glasses, making it his own exclusive mini theatre.
J.D. glanced up from her reading, saw what he was doing, then went back to her reports. She cross-referenced various similarities, noting that there were far too many for comfort. These shootings were definitely connected, and a part of her doubted that it would end at two.
She really wanted this case, and decided to start the request for it to be transferred up a few levels to their section. She could automatically commandeer it, but doing something like that, unless in immediate circumstances, usually caused more trouble than it was worth.
Francis took the glasses off and placed them on the desk before getting up and walking out of the office. J.D. didn't even acknowledge his leaving since he did it every time after using the personal device. It had a dizzying effect on him, and fresh air afterwards was always preferable to him tossing his cookies all over the floor.
She always thought it had something to do with his ‘hereditary powers’, but since he never really told her what they were, she couldn’t be sure. The powers that CISA agents had gotten through their parents, or even grandparents, involvement with government testing were guarded by those who wielded them. No one really had to know what the other’s main ‘power’ was, unless it was something that would be in direct contrast to their own. No one wanted a partner that would accidentally short out his or her own powers.
As far as she knew, Francis had heightened physical abilities that made him lethal in a fight. He also had a different way of looking at things, which made him ideal for tactical specialties. Beyond that, J.D. didn’t really know.
"Definite hit," Francis said as he walked through the door a few minutes later and sat back at his desk. "There's a point where the person shoots, then pauses like he's checking something, then the weapon tracks a clean line right to where the Deputy Minister was standing." He grabbed the second security footage and placed it in the small reader. "Then he seemed to fire random shots before he left."
"He?"
"Body language, stance and general build points toward it being male. Ninety-five percent certain on that." He grabbed the glasses again. "I'll know more once I view the art gallery."
"If you were smart, you'd take that outside and view it."
He gave her a strange look as he slipped the glasses on. "Who the hell said I was smart?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Judge Hamner regarded them both over the top of his desk, then leaned forward in a slightly intimidating manner. "You understand that this could have drastic ramification if not handled properly."
"Yes, sir," they both replied.
"I don't want either of you to strong arm any reports into giving you anything other than those brief moments of their footage."
"Yes, sir."
"This warrant is only good for the shooting, and nothing else."
"Your Honour?"
"Lieutenant McQhyn?"
"The moments leading up to the event are actually more important than the shooting itself."
Judge Hamner leaned back and stared at Francis, who returned his gaze without flinching. "Convince me."
"By seeing who was there, from a different vantage point than the security cameras, we could more confidently recreate a critical timeline. Plus, it has the added advantage of the possibility of capturing certain facts and sounds at a ground zero level."
J.D. tried not to smirk as the judge added a note to the warrant without saying anything then slid it across the desk to them. They took it, and quickly walked out.
J.D. sighed as the door closed. "You enjoy pissing him off, don't you."
"One of my true pleasures in life," Francis said with a grin.
~~~~~~~~~~
Media recordings in hand, they decided to stop by the museum for another look at the scene. The bright yellow police tape was still up, and they showed badges to the lone officer who was standing nearby.
Francis put the dark glasses back on, played a small part before pausing the view, and moved to another spot on the floor. "Just want to get the right perspective," he explained. "According to the image, the reporter was standing right about here." He touched a small button on the player, and watched the scene unfold before him.
J.D. walked around, checking the areas where the outlines of the bodies remained on the stone floor. She went to the back, and stood by the one that had been tagged as the Deputy Minister. Looking up, she noticed that there were no other evidence flags in the near vicinity.
She took a small device out of her pocket and spoke into it, recording her words for later. "Evidence indicates that the D.P. may have been the intended target, with the rest as collateral to cover the fact. This is only theory but based on cursory examination of yesterday afternoon's events, seems to be a valid point."
She shut the recorder off and blinked. Had it only been yesterday? Two mass shootings in the last twenty-four hours? The museum had been an afternoon affair, with the shooting happening at 3:24 p.m., while the art gallery had happened closer to 10:00 p.m. She sighed and wandered around, her eyes never leaving the floor in front of her.
Francis was soon growing bored with the events unfolding before his eyes, annoyed at the amount of people that milled in front of the camera view, all pretending like they didn't know it was there. It had been a major event, with tickets going for more than he made in a week, the proceeds going towards fixing the museum up and purchasing further articles.
"J.D.?"
She looked at him, but he had his back to her. "Yeah?"
"Was the Art gallery a fund raiser?"
She thought for a moment. "I think so."
"So was this." He held up a hand to stop her reply as he saw the gunman come through the door.
J.D. watched as he tensed, and made a note to check out any connection between fundraisers.
The camera view swung wildly for a moment as a shot sounded off camera, then focused on a large individual decked out completely in army fatigues, wielding a fully automatic firearm. Francis immediately recognized the weapon as modified older model M16, which was capable of firing one round, or a constant stream of 750 to 900 rounds a minute, depending on the feed. He hadn't seen the shooter changing round boxes on the security footage, but now he could see a sheet of bullets hanging over the shooter's arm. Modifying the restricted weapon was tricky, and could lead them somewhere if they could find out who did the work.
Francis held his breath as bullets sprayed through the crowd, and was shocked that there hadn't been more killed than had been. The camera view moved with the shooter, and he watched as the person stopped, put a hand to his ear, and then pointed the weapon to the back of the large room, took a few steps, and held the trigger down.
Screams nearly drowned out the gunfire, and he watched as the shooter turned, stared straight at the camera, and pulled the trigger.
J.D. jumped as Francis swore loudly and watched as he tore the glasses off. He let them drop to the floor as he turned and hurried out of the room.
Instead of going outside he headed for the men's room located just on the other side of the main room. He splashed cold water on his face as his stomach threatened to explode, and took deep breaths to fight back the nausea. He sighed at the air circulation in the building kicked in, and looked up at the vent in the ceiling.
He pulled out his cell phone and pushed a button. "Jake? Yeah. Do me a favor?" He waited while his half-brother whined slightly. "Company business, Jake.... Okay.... On my desk there's a computer disk with the specs for the museum. Send them to my cell... because you're a cadet, and I'm a Lieutenant, and you can consider it an order." He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the attitude of the other man. "That's better." He closed his phone and took a deep breath before walking out of the bathroom and back to the main area.
J.D. was back on the floor, looking up. "You okay?" she asked.
"Didn't know the media got shot," he said as the view played through his mind again. "The bullets pounded right into the camera."
She gave him a confused look. "It didn't ruin the recording?"
"Straight feed to the media station."
"Ah."
He turned as his phone vibrated in his pocket, and took it out. "I had Jake send me the schematics for this place."
"Why?"
"The shooter didn't just walk in off the street," he said. "I'm thinking he changed here...maybe had things stashed someplace."
"Makes sense." She sat up, then stood. "The police did a cursory search, but I think they were going with the idea that he came dressed to kill."
~~~~~~~~
Francis walked into the CISA office and sat down, a look of complete contentment on his face.
"Who'd you do now?" J.D. asked, then had the nerve to look abashed. "Ooops. I meant what did you do now?"
"I delegated."
"Okay," she said slowly.
"Got a game tonight that I want to be in."
"Game?" she said with a smirk. "Is that what you call it?"
"Basketball game," he replied in a droll voice. "You've got sex on the brain."
"Me?" she joked. "Fine, tell me, Soul Patch... when was the last time you got laid?"
"I had sex last night."
"Your hand doesn't count."
"Oh. Never mind then." He grinned at her in an infuriating manner. The man was completely incorrigible. "Want to come to the game?"
"I have work."
He shrugged. "Delegate." He grabbed a disk off her desk. "The cadets are never going to learn how to follow leads and trace things unless we give them actual things to follow. There's only so much they can learn with text book scenarios."
She knew he was right, but she'd never let him know that she thought it.
~~~~~~~~~
J.D. sucked in her breath as a player on the basketball court received an elbow to the face. The crowd around her cheered and yelled as the physical action continued below. After the first few minutes, she realized that her partner was involved in the rather popular sport of 'contact basketball', which she thought was something like street fighting with a little basketball thrown in for good measure.
She winced as Francis landed on the court, and her mouth dropped in surprise as he used the momentum to roll, jump to his feet and grab the ball from the other team. A quick pivot and the ball was sailing through the air for a team member to sink for a growing point lead.
She cheered with the rest of the crowd, and soon learned that, although Francis wasn't the tallest on the courts, he seemed to be a huge crowd favorite...especially among the females. She tapped down on the unexpected jealous that she experienced, and chalked it up to the energy around her.
Francis felt an elbow in his ribs again, and glanced behind, not surprised to see it was the same player who dogged him every time their teams played. The man was sneaky, always getting little shots in while the referees were looking elsewhere. He ignored the other player, faking him out of position with a move that pleased the crowd, but obviously annoyed the man. He chased after Francis, grabbing the ball after elbowing him in the head, then turned and threw the ball straight into Francis' face.
It wasn't a hard throw, but enough to send him staggering back as his hands automatically went to his face. He glared, then turned quickly, bringing his foot up to catch the player in the shoulder and send him to the floor in a text-book perfect roundhouse kick. The crowd gasped, and then erupted into shouts of anger and pleasure as the game was halted and a trainer ran to check the other player out.
J.D. stood and started for the side of the bleachers as she saw the look on her partner's face. His teeth were bared and his breathing labored as he glared at the man on the floor. He didn't even look as the referee shouted that he was out of the game, and only turned and strolled off the court to mixed cheers and jeers.
He walked past J.D. and headed straight for the locker room. She waited outside, then walked beside him when he came out in suit pants and a light blue shirt. They were silent as they walked towards the ME Four-Twelve.
"Fucking prick."
"Who?"
He stopped by the driver's door and looked at her over the top of the car. "That's about the fifth time he's hit me tonight...but does he get tossed? Nooooo. Aw, fuck it."
J.D. walked to the driver's side of the vehicle. "I'll drive so you can pout."
He snorted rudely, but walked to the passenger side and climbed in. He sat there as she drove, sulking and angry at himself for losing control. He'd usually let the hits roll off him, and, although he gave as good as he got, he's never before actually gone as far as attacking another player like that.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
"I'm thinking you might still be angry?"
"No." He looked out the window. "It's my new mantra."
She tried not to smile at the sarcasm in his voice. In the past five years, she's rarely seen him lose control like this, and it amused her. She knew it was cruel to take delight in someone else's misfortune, but she couldn't help it.
J.D. glanced at him as he continued to stare out the window, surprised at how little she actually knew about him. Until tonight, she hadn't known he played basketball. All she knew was what he divulged during their work hours, and then they went their separate ways until the next day. They had run into each other plenty of times during off-hours, but he usually had some female hanging off his arm, which made it difficult to mingle. She knew they considered each other as a friend, and thought that maybe it was time to learn more.
She pulled into the driveway outside his house. "Got any beer?"
He looked at her. "That's like asking Jake if he's got a porn stash." He opened the door. "Come on in."
~~~~~~~
He handed her another beer and sat on the chair across from her. "You didn't have to leave the game because of me," he said, nearly back to his normal annoying calmness.
"Why do you play that?" she said.
He shrugged. "It calms me."
"Oh, I can tell."
He smiled slightly, then winced at the pain he still had. "Okay, it usually calms me. I get to work out anger on the courts." He regarded her over the top of his beer. "Don't you have someway of getting rid of the anger?"
"I store it all away in case I need to tap into it someday."
"Good idea."
She finished off her beer, then looked at him. "Well. This is a problem."
"Huh?"
"I had a couple beer, so I really shouldn't drive. Guess I'll just have to spend the night here."
Francis stared at her. "Finally!!" he said in massive relief. He paused. "Uh... just to make sure... you mean with me, right?"
In a list
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Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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OH...My...God...
I don't think it's even possible to tell you how impressed I am with this... I know it's been a while since I read it, but I remember EVERYTHING about it...
Details...: Great!
Descriptions...: Superb... By far..
This COULD definitely be a movie...Oh my god.. I would pay BIG money to see it...
I believe.. If you published this... It would be my favorite book of ALL TIME... Not kidding...This...This is crazy good! And like Amicus said... Who in the hell are you?? This was...Beyond good.
*is speechless*
Damn good job and I will FOR SURE read chapter 3...
Ana
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Impeccable!
Okay...who are you really?
Are you familiar with the term, 'treatment'?
This is sophisticated, witty, bold, innovative, well crafted and tightly planned and written.
What are you going to do with it?
It is difficult to ever get an agent, or even a screen writer and more difficult to do your own, 'treatment' of a project to attract attention in the movie world. But this is a piece that, thus far, exudes the atmosphere of an adventure film.
More opportunities exist now than ever before, as HBO, does original scripts, as do many other cable outlets and independent film makers...
Are you exploring such opportunities...do you have the interest to pursue such things?
amicus...
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Thank you, thank you! You certainly know how to brighten a day.
More than likely, I'll play around with the story, polish it up a bit, and maybe do it through lulu.com. Or, I'll check with a local publisher and see if it fits their guidelines for acceptance.(A lot around here want 'local falvour'... something set in Canada or East Coast). I'm not sure of a movie because I would cry if someone I didn't like got a part 
thank you for your wonderful comments and for reading.
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Contact basketball? You been hanging around the courts again.
I like the melding of work and off duty, but maybe a bit more description could help in certain areas. Love the ending...
beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 4, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Consider some description added
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