Ok. This is a fanfiction about Jared Booth's past. Kinda. He comes in about chapter 4-5 ish. Currently looking for a beta reader. ta. Please reveiw. It's my first fan fic. It's rated M to be safe.
The cold, dark room was bare. Just four walls, stained with the remains of the previous occupants. A battered light was suspended from the ceiling, wirings exposed, flickering on and off, providing only a dim glow throughout the room.
With a mighty thump, the door swung open, slamming into the walls. Two figures fell into the room, followed by a tall burly man, Henry Lowell, the most wanted drug dealer in the America.
In the back of a minivan crouched Martin Finn, call sign Lone Wolf, was listening in on the conversation. Rubbing his hands nervously, he went through every prospect of failure possible. But his nervousness was caused by more than just simple failure. The man inside was the reason he didn't have a brother. Twitching with anticipation, he decided to radio his partner, Detective Sergeant James Kennedy, call sign Terror Tiger.
Call sign: Lone Wolf
James, it's been forever, surely
the deal has been made by now.
Should we move in?
Call sign: Terror Tiger
No, wait a few more minutes Lone Wolf,
we need to be sure the money has
exchanged hands.
Call sign: Lone Wolf
I know! But I really want to get this
bastard after what he did to my brother.
* * *
Ten years ago, on the night of June 15th, Doug Finn, call sign Spider, was murdered. He was working an undercover drug job with Robert Duncan, call sign Snake, as his partner. Things were going fairly smoothly until the dealers found the wire strapped to Doug's body.
Call sign: Spider
Robert, they've caught on, we
have to get out of here now!
Call sign: Snake
Clearing the entrance now!
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Bullet's whizzed through the corridor, as the drug dealers ran after the weaving Doug.
"ARGH!" he cried as a bullet shot through his thigh, glancing the femoral artery.
Call sign: Spider
Robert! I've been hit!
Call for back up!
Call sign: Snake
On my way!
Doug landed heavily, crashing into the wall, breaking the pipe running along it.
Clutching his thigh, Doug waited anxiously for Robert to come.
Minutes later, Robert leisurely walked down the hall. Upon seeing his partner, he grinned with cruelty.
"Took your time! What are you smiling at!? I'm slowly dying every second you waste!" Doug complained
"Well we can't have that can we?" replied Robert raising his gun.
"What are you doing, you son of a bitch! I'm your partner!" and with a final effort he grabbed the sheared pipe, slashing it across Robert's face. Robert barely flinched, but delivered his next line with an evil pleasure.
"Sorry Doug, they made me a better offer. Wait, who am I kidding, I'm not sorry!"
BLAM!
Smirking, he lowered his gun. Staring at the body, he felt incredible pleasure from the adrenaline rush from killing again.
Dropping his badge, Robert kicked Doug's body aside. Walking away from his ex-partner's body, he left behind his old life as Robert Duncan, and began is new life, as Henry Lowell.
* * *
"GET UP!" Henry shouted kicking the figures into the centre of the room.
"In the corner…NOW!" he gestured to the far left wall with his gun.
"P-pp-please!!!" stammered the female prisoner, Gabriel Brown.
Just out of college and only 26-years-old, she worked as a substitute teacher at Alabama State High School. She wore low-cut t-shirts and very short skirts, and was like an angel without wings to men, but gave off a smutty, desperate vibe to the women.
"Just let us go!!" she whined
"Not until I get the money. WHERE IS IT!?!!?" he towered over her. At 6 feet tall, Henry Lowell was muscular and very impatient. He had a hard face, marked with a purpled scar running across his left cheek bone down through his lips finishing under the right underside of his jaw, a reminder of his past, something he'd like to forget. His eyes only served to add to the malevolence in his face, cold and ruthless, they surveyed the room with malice, taking in the two prone figures before him. Sobbing and on their knees, their eyes shone with horror, sending a thrilling chill down his spine. Holding them at gun point, the power Henry felt was indescribable, the feeling of holding someone's life in ones hands, being able to decide on a mere whim who lived or died.
"Do you even know who you're talking to? I'd advise you to leave, while you still can." The older of the two prisoners, John, said smugly, a smile creasing his old, sun blemished face. John's face showed the years badly, and combined with his weight problem, the first impression any one got of him was an aged, fat man, in the midst of a mid-life crisis. A Supreme Court justice from Alabama, John believed he was a very significant man, and, in his opinion, everyone was lucky to be in his company. He had three children, one from each of his failed marriages, the oldest being all but eight, with whom he never spent any time. His family hated him. Hated how he was always off with a new bimbo every week, how he ALWAYS had the last word, and most of all, how he never spent time with anyone, not even a quick visit on his poor mother's birthday.
BANG!
Pieces of plasterboard and insulation rained down on the tense group.
"I don't think you realise the shit you are in. The blokes I work for don't care how I get the money, and if they don't get EXACTLY what they want, it's my head! So I am not just going to, leave, because some asshole from Alabama told me to. So. I'll ask again, WHERE'S THE MONEY??!" The last part was shouted in John's ear as he firmly pressed the glock's barrel to Gabriel's forehead.
"John, please! Just give it to him!!" Gabriel cried, sobbing, torment evident on her tear-stained face.
"I don't have any, someone stole it all" he said offhandedly, shrugging. "So why don't you put down your gun, and let's talk this out."
Blam, John went flying into the wall.
"I have an idea. You give me the money, or I kill your girlfriend, then you, sound good? GOOD!"
Gabriel dropped to her knees. Crawling across the room, she grabbed Henry's pant leg. "I don't want to die! Please! I had no part in this!! Just let me go. I'll do anything you want!" she pleaded.
John stood up slowly, cursing under his breath. Stalking over to where Henry was standing, he poked him in the chest.
"I told you, I don't have it. Go on, rub me down, I bet you'd like that wouldn't you!" drawled John, rubbing his chin.
"If I wanted to touch your rotting body, I'd shoot you first, then I can get the money and keep the guns, plus, I'd be rid of you and your bloody girlfriend."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Bullshit. Try me." Henry delivered the line with a gleam of evil in his eyes.
Horror and dismay slowly appeared on his John's face, replacing the smug look of self-importance as he realised what exactly he had got them into.
"I'm so sorry Gabby. I don't have it." He uttered these words softly, sweating profusely and visibly pained.
A cold chill ran down her spine. Her heart pounded inside her chest and her mind went blank. A lone tear slid down her cheek. The last feeling she would ever have.
BAM!
Her head exploded into a spray of blood and brains. Her body remained standing for what seemed like an eternity to John, before slumping to the ground, taking John's soul with it.
Call sign: Lone Wolf
ALL SQUADS MOVE IN!! COVER ME!
"Wrong answer." Henry grunted whilst kicking Gaby's body out of the way.
"Give it all to me now, and I will overlook this… inconvenience."
He lowered the gun the John's heart.
"Or, I will kill you now, if you would prefer."
"I don't have it!" John blubbered, dropping to his knees. "Just let me go, I'll find some!"
CRASH!
The door exploded inwards, sending splinters flying as the police stormed the place.
"PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!!" yelled Detective Sergeant Martin Finn, echoing the squad, aiming his gun directly at Henry's head.
What do you think? It looked like a good spot to stop.