Fucking FBI, those fucks stay on me like a lion on a rhino's ass. One of these days they're gonna piss me the fuck off for real, and I'll give their bitch asses something to cry about, dumb fucks. So far I've mostly been playing with the different agencies, foreign and domestic, that try keeping tabs on me. It was fun outwitting them at every turn, but they've all learnt in some capacity or the other not to go too far. I valued my freedom too much to have them trampled by a bunch of blowhards, who were sometimes almost as corrupt as the fucks they were supposed to be putting away. I opened up my laptop and typed in the series of numbers needed to get me into the FBI database undetected. These fucks were so busy hounding my every step that they'd left their left flank unprotected. It was comical how fucking easy it was to breach their security. I've been accessing most, if not all, of the delicate top-secret information of most government agencies, for the better part of eight
This was my secret, a little kernel of truth that had come to me during the darkness of night, one long ago night. I'd still been a young, impressionable girl; still the lost child, who was alone in the world. I stayed up nights, afraid to close my eyes, afraid of what the darkness would hold. Not because of the boogeyman no, my nightmare had been of a different nature. It was at night that I realized I couldn't remember their faces. Gradually they were fading away from my memory. I'd had no mementos left, no keepsakes. In the chaos of being spirited away in the dead of night, from the home of the friend I'd been staying over with that night, no one had thought to even ask. Then as the weeks went by, when it wasn't certain who had been the target of the massacre and if I was still in danger, all thought of such things got lost in the shuffle. So it was, that while others my age, were out having fun and doing the growing pains thing, going to parties with friends, enjo
I gathered my thoughts collectively, once more pulling everything in. Frank Connell was a little odd yes, with his quiet unassuming manner, the way he seemed to always be trying desperately to disappear into himself. I'm sure many people found this strange; but being strange did not make you a mass murderer. It just meant you were weary of your fellow man and knowing some of the shit I did, who could blame him? "This is our guy." I pointed to the second screen, at the man who stood out for me. I knew there would be an outcry; my choice is an upstanding citizen. The CEO of a leading brokerage firm; everything about him looks great on paper, well his professional and public files anyway, but in interview I'd seen the taint on the shine. Though he'd been there, not as a suspect, but as a character witness for his nephew, something about him had just jumped out at me. It wasn't anything I could put into words, as always with me, it came from a place beyond my control. That
I'm glad that was over; that had been one of the toughest exercises so far, in spite of the crumbs that were placed in our way to direct us to our conclusion, which turns out was the wrong one. My fellow agents had proven how easy it is to accuse and convict the wrong person, based on our need to believe, that the more normal seeming, upstanding citizen, was always innocent; while the society reject, was always the guilty party. The fact that Frank Connell is a fat, balding middle-aged recluse, painted him as guilty in their eyes. It was a sad fact that this kind of thinking had put many innocents behind bars, and worse yet, sent them to their deaths. I was willing to do everything I could to put a stop to such behaviors, one case at a time. I left the building and headed to the cafeteria for some much-needed tea. Yes I know, what federal agent or law enforcement officer worth their salt preferred tea instead of coffee? I couldn't stomach the stuff; it tasted like lead
After Jace left, I had a few minutes downtime before I had to be on the move again. Always before walking into one of these things I cleared my head, using an ancient technique an old master had taught me long ago. It called for total concentration and nothing more, just focus on releasing everything from my thoughts one at a time, until the mind and psyche were clear of all white noise. Then replacing each parcel piece by piece. It was almost like washing the brain before restoring it with clean Intel. I couldn't afford to fuck up in this meeting, these guys had to buy what I was selling, hook line and sinker. Anything goes wrong and months of hard work goes down the drain. Though it was pretty much in the bag and things had already started moving, there was always that element of surprise. In this business, things changed from one moment to the next without warning, so it was never a good idea to take anything for granted. Thoughts of Cierra flitted through my mind s
"Cierra Stone, paging Cierra Stone." "Shit Gracie! What can that be about now?" I put the brush down and turned to my roommate. "You won't know until you go see." "I hope there isn't anything more for me to study, this guy is like a freaking shadow as it is. I don't know why they think I'll be any help, since they haven't been able to nail him in the last ten years or so, and I'm not sure why they need a profiler on this one, hasn't he been profiled to death?" "Girl kill that noise, you know you have mad skills beyond profiling, otherwise they'd never have tapped you for the job, besides, that piece of eye candy is the best subject they've got going in the bureau these days, yum." She twitched her eyebrows at me in her comical way. "How can you tell? Every picture's a profile shot, it's almost as if he knows where the cameras are and keeps his face in the shadows." "Well, I heard from this girl that was in one of my classes that he's fuck
Not only that, but the guy was a career ender. Quite a few of my colleagues had lost their jobs or positions after tussling with this guy, and I knew what my superiors expected of me as the only female to ever go up against this mastermind; they didn't just want me to use my mind, I was pretty sure they wanted me to use a lot more than that if push came to shove; that's how desperate they'd become. *** I needed a little downtime to get the stench of the last few days off of me, so I decided to relax by taking my boat out on the water for a little spin. One of my pleasures, sailing, in fact I like anything to do with leisure, yachting, racing boats, cars and bikes; I even enjoyed a little rock climbing every once in a while. Those things kept me sharp, because they involved staying very focused in order to avoid danger. Today, with the business of filth out of the way, my mind turned to more pleasant enticements; like the eyes of one Cierra Stone. I felt the tigh
The music sounded like something out of a fast paced movie; one of those race car things with ex-cons always coming out on top; how fitting. I hadn't wanted to make my debut in this way and in this place, Hank Mancini's reportedly favorite nightclub. I'm essentially on his turf but word on the street is that he has a job in the works and we needed to move fast. I'd barely landed in the city before I was being put out to pasture. Agent Sarkozy had met me at the airport as prearranged and literally went right to it. He was rattling off Intel before we reached baggage claims. " Our boy has something in the works lots of movement in the last couple days. He also met with Jason Laramie another known criminal who always seems to stay one step ahead of us but we feel pretty positive about this one." He seemed overly excited and just a tad hyper active he also talked as fast as he walked. "In the last two days or so Mancini has been seen making the rounds so to speak, this gu