Armed Detective Agency Novels & Stories

They weren't alone in this, they had the most powerful freaking mafia in LA helping them. "Wait, how do they know about the Bullet Agency?" Eden asked. "Every criminal knows about the Bullet Agency. This place is home to many criminals, Eden." Malakai said and Eden wasn't surprised anymore at this point.

He bowed slightly and left. The inspector general heaved a sigh. He hated to see his officers so clueless. But something was strange; Bob had seemed unbothered. All his years in the bureau, Inspector Akhere has seen many smart and creative detectives but he has seen none like Bob Andrews. Smart, creative, fast, and alert, Bob had built a name for himself as the Detective of Detectives. He used the brains of other detectives and he gets positive results. At first, the inspector felt he was just another control freak, but after a close study of the man he finally understood him.

Some of their Agents are probably like Jester—who practically live here—so they must have thought this would be both convenient and comforting for them. I was halfway through my pancakes when I decided I wanted more tea. I got up from my seat and proceeded to the counter. Audrey was talking to a customer though, and I wouldn’t have paid attention if it weren’t for two things: the first was the nine-pointed star that was pinned to the man’s uniform which meant he was one of only nine Special Agents, just like Jester; and second, for a moment—I swear, I am not making this up—I was quite sure I couldn’t sense his presence. I couldn’t help but stare at him, and I wondered how that could be possi

He walks up to the older officer and whispers to him. Then he turns to me. There is a badge which I glance at briefly yet he says, Miss Montgomery. “I’m Special Agent Harris. Federal.” The word lands heavy. He reaches under his arm and brings out a closed folder and opens it to an extent where I can view the first page. There my name is printed in black ink. Clean. Official. Final. I have already filed the contract, he says. It is no longer under local jurisdiction. It’s bigger than the local police.”

A bright jolly guy— he now wears his mask. Harold stood in front of the police station. He looked at it for seconds before he came inside. Looking around, he saw detectives wearing exhausted look on their face. It is obvious that all have been working so hard, even without sleep. As he stood near the entrance, of of the detective noticed him. “Excuse me? What do you need?” Harold glanced at the detective’s I.D. He read [“Ned Bexley”] Based on his Intel, this man is working under the team leader of Major Crime Unit 1, Adler Blaine’ A.K.A, the reason why Harold visited the station.

"His name is Christopher. He used to be the ace of the Special Forces. Now he's part of my Classified Unit." He paused and ignored the disdain on Jessica's face. "He also has a codename. It's Lone Wolf." Steven took a deep breath. "Jessica, that name should sound familiar to you." 'Lone Wolf?' Jessica froze as if struck by lightning. The soldier who saved her seven years ago during an overseas mission. The one who vanished without a trace. The man she had searched for all these years. "That's impossible–" Her voice trembled, and her face was pale. "How could he be Lone Wolf? How could it be him?"

and slid my hand in the pocket of my puffer jacket and took a shot. I sighed when it rang through the cramped walls, his body falling beside me with a loud thud, blood seeping out of the hole in his head, and I looked away. I stood up, heaving and rubbing the sore spot on my stomach. The burn of the small pistol I had triggered pressed on my skin when I shook off my nerves and opened the door to where the deal was going on. Antonio Fazio and his men were ready. He cursed when he stared at me and at my golden badge on the hip that said Federal Bureau of Investigation Agent Elena Hill Ali with Department of Justice.

Now that he's aware someone's after him, he'd most likely change the location of the ledger or double security on it. "Mrs Chadwick?" One of the officers walks back towards me. I've given almost ten descriptions of this mystery guy to different officers. I hope I don't have to do that again. "That's me," I step away from Liam and take the hand the officer's offering. "Emmanuel Fudge, I'm from the Atlanta Police Department." More cops. Nice. "The local sheriff's office already interrogated me." He shifts from foot to foot. "I know. I only have a few questions for you. If you don't mind excusing us, Mr Chadwick."

Clicking through websites, he read all the reviews and testimonials, looking for reliability in the virtual information. Finally, his eyes settled on a well-reputed agency with a track record of successful investigations. It seemed like the right place to start the journey that could bridge the chasm of years and reunite him with his children. Dialing the number displayed on the website, he hesitated for a moment, the weight of anticipation hanging in the air. The phone rang, and on the other end, a professional voice greeted him, "Hello, this is Apex Investigations. How can we assist you today?"

“That’s it. I’m done. You’re done. You’re being reassigned.” "What? Reassigned?" I said, shocked. "Effective immediately, your homicide unit is disbanded. You’ll be reassigned to misdemeanor reports...like lost dogs...stolen wallets.” “No...please, I...” “Or maybe neighborhood patrol and parking violations. If I see another report like this...about seeing so called werewolves, you’re out.” "But sir..." “Enough! You’re dismissed.” I was angry with myself and more angry at management for disbanding my unit when I was on the right track. I pouted and turned to leave. Everyone stared not knowing what to say, but Marcus stood up and followed behind me.