Okey Dokey, Here we go.
The usual applies; I own no one or nothing pertaining to this story.
Where To Go From Here
------------------------------------
Special Agent Clarice Starling had finally decided to give it up.
Clarice had been reinstated after the incident at Krendler's lake house. She was found innocent of any wrong doing, with the exception of disobeying orders. When Starling's superiors discovered that the postcard that was found in her office, was in fact a forgery, and even though they couldn't prove it, they highly suspected Krendler of being involved, they figured she had been through enough.
Four months later, Agent Starling was on a stake out, another drug bust. Once again assisting local law enforcement, she wondered to herself if these guys were allowed to give out parking tickets by themselves. Just as the principles were about to make their deal, one of them caught a glimpse of the sniper on the roof across the street. "Same shit different day" she said while getting out of the van.
"Lets roll guys, we've been made," she announced through the police radio.
As the Officers approached, it appeared as if the suspects were just going to surrender.
All stood with their hands raised high in the air. Not moving an inch.
There were five of them, or so she thought, standing in front of a Ford Explorer. As they moved in to make the arrest, someone fired a shot from inside the vehicle.
That's when disaster struck.
The suspects took off in every direction. Several rounds had already been delivered into the Explorer. Clarice had hit the ground after hearing the first shot. By the time she decided she would be safer heading for cover, she discovered she couldn't get off the ground. As she looked for the source of the trouble, she saw that she had been shot in the left thigh. 'Not too bad,' she thought. Until she realized the hole in the front of her leg was just the entrance wound. The bullet had gone clean through her thigh and left a rather large exit wound in the back of her leg, while also shredding her femur in the process.
During the shooting, one of the Officers had made his way to her, dragging her safely back to the van. "Thanks for saving my butt," she said while grimacing in pain.
"Your gonna be o.k. The medics are on the way. They'll fix you up," he said nervously.
Starling, noticing the young man's jitters and asked, "What's your name Officer?"
"Daniel, Daniel Barton, he replied." "Well it's nice to meet you Daniel.
I'm Clarice." "I know who you are. You're that F.B.I. Agent that has a thing for that
Lecter guy," he remarked sarcastically.
Without missing a beat Clarice said, "Dr. Lecter," as she punched him in the face.
All total for the day, three dead bad-guys, two wounded good-guys, Clarice (gunshot to the leg), Officer Barton (broken nose), one totaled Ford Explorer, which now resembled Swiss cheese and two hundred pounds of cocaine.
Not a bad haul, all things considered.
---------------------------------------
Starling sat uncomfortably in her hospital bed recovering from the surgery that put her leg back together. It took two titanium rods, seven pins and a cast that she would have to wear for three months.
That's when she decided enough is enough.
The next day, Agent Pearsall came to see how Clarice was doing. He knocked lightly on her open door and said quietly, "Starling." She was reading the paper as he entered the room. "Come in Mr. Pearsall. I'm glad to see you, we need to talk."
"How you doing Starling," he asked. "Leg hurts like hell, but at least I still have one," she replied. "The Doc says if I'm a good girl I can go home in a couple of days."
"That's good news, I'm so glad you're going to be all right.
So Starling, you said you wanted to talk to me? What's on your mind?"
She thought for a minute before answering him. "Well, Sir, I guess there's no easy way to put this." She took a deep breath and continued, "I 'm leaving Bureau. I would like it if you would except this as my verbal resignation. I plan on writing a formal letter, I just thought you should be aware of my intentions."
"Why, Starling? I know you've had a rough time lately, but everything seemed to finally be working itself out." He actually sounded disappointed.
"I'm sorry Sir. I've just had enough. There has got to be more to life. I just want to see if I can find it. I hope you understand."
"I can't say that I completely understand, but God knows you deserve a break, Starling.
You sure I can't talk you into, let's say, a six month leave?" he said hopefully.
"I'm sorry Sir, my minds made up," she answered.
"Alright Starling, if that's what you want I'll start the paperwork tomorrow," he said as he headed for the door. "Thank you sir. I really appreciate this."
He nodded to her as he left. Once he was gone, Clarice felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest.
That didn't last long.
A few minutes after Pearsall's departure, a nurse came in carrying a dozen red roses. "Ms. Starling, these just came for you. Special delivery too," the nurse said excitedly.
"They're beautiful. Who are they from?" Clarice asked.
The nurse set the flowers down on the bedside table and pulled the small card from the center of the display, handing it to Clarice. As she opened the card her eyes widened. The nurse asked, "Are you o.k. Ms. Starling? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Snapping out of her trance she said, "Ah, yeah, I'm fine. Just someone I didn't expect to hear from, that's all." "Alright then, you ring if you need anything," the nurse said as she was leaving.
Clarice just stared at the flowers for a long while. Then to the card, which simply read,
H
-------------------------------------
As I said before, all of you have given me the courage to continue, for better or worse.
I hope it's not for worse!
