Fbi Jacket Novels & Stories

The three bold, yellow letters printed across the back of the bulletproof vests. FBI. They thought the badge made them untouchable. They thought a funeral was a place of weakness. I didn't give a fuck. This was my husband’s burial, and I refused to let them tarnish his memory with their presence. “Is there a problem, boys?” I said, stepping directly between the agents and Luca. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn't look at Luca, and I didn't look at the guns holstered at their hips. I looked at the lead agent. He was a man with a tired face and a self-righteous sneer, dead in the eyes.

Don't look guilty. I looked at the detector like it had betrayed me, feigning confusion rather than terror. "What the—" I started, then let false understanding wash over my face in the performance of my life. "Oh. Oh, that's ridiculous." I reached into my pocket. Alexei's hand tightened on his jacket. "Slowly," he said. I moved slowly, deliberately, and pulled out the key fob—the panic button the FBI had given me. It was black plastic with a Toyota logo, completely ordinary, except it had GPS tracking built in for the FBI to locate me and a remote transmitter. Active electronics.

It opened slowly. It wasn't the Matriarch. It was Jane. She was covered in dirt, and she was holding Elle in a carrier on her chest. "Hazel! We have to go!" Jane whispered. "Jane? How did you get in here?" "I didn't come alone," Jane said. She stepped aside, and a man walked into the room. He was wearing an FBI jacket, but he didn't have a badge. He had a scar across his eye and a dark, dangerous smile.

FIBI was standing in front of me, wearing one of my very thick and expensive grey and white hoodie, I didn’t like the fact that she was wearing my cloth. The frown was out before I could stop it, she noticed and looked down at her petite body and that’s because my eyes were fixated on my cloth on her. “You don't usually have any problem with me wearing your clothes after having our time together, is it because of her?” FIBI is always open and understanding like this, of cause, she’s human and I can see the jealousy on her face but she’s doing a very good job in hiding it and I will pretend not to notice.

Why the hell was everybody suddenly… Afraid? “Nah. I think I have the right person for all the things I want.” I tilted my head to the side and regarded him fully. “I could have opted to strike a deal with one of your surbodintes. But i thought… why waste time on the fish when i can catch the shark itself?” My brow shot up suggestively. “I am the director of the FBI. I work for the government. To uphold justice in this country.” He mentioned with pride bubbling around him. All that was left was for him to bam his fists against his chest proudly.

He was once my twenty-minute friend. This reminds me why Massimo is still alive. I sent Bella after him, and I won't be surprised if his dick blurred her intentions. " You know it's dangerous playing with people's hearts, right?" Fabio whispers, his eyes slightly showing amusement and I smile. I like a friendly Fabio. "Well I can't help it if I am sizzling hot" I joke flipping my hair and he smirks pointing behind me. A man in a police uniform, specifically an FBI. He is leaning on his car hood, and his intense stare is on me.

"The problem is we just don't have time, and I really doubt they'd let me hypnotize you at all, let alone long enough to figure out what she put in your head." Before either of us could say anything else, though, we turned to see both security guards hustling over. The one on my side of the glass was accompanied by a gentleman wearing a blue jacket. The letters "FBI" stood out noticeably. I gulped and wondered if I was about to be arrested. * * * After that, my memories are a bit hazy.

“Sounds like a lot of talk to me. You say that to all the girls you kidnap and bring here to try to scare the—” “Let’s get one thing fucking straight.” His voice booms out, shutting me up and echoing across the small room. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I didn’t kidnap you, for the last fucking time. I work for the FBI, and my job is to make sure those fucks don’t come after you for what you saw. Understand?” I swallow. “How come you won’t show me your badge?” “Because I don’t have one. I’m a contractor for the bureau.”

I recognized the uniform…: This is FBI, this is FBI uniform, a uniform I have also put on. Standing there in shock, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. I had done it. I had finally escaped.

He put the file in his jacket, closed the box, turned to leave. The door was open. The woman standing in the doorway was tall, dark-haired, her face the careful blank of someone who had learned to hide her feelings a long time ago. She was wearing an FBI jacket, a badge on her belt, a gun at her hip. Her eyes moved from Alex to Cole to the box on the table. "Detective Marchetti." Her voice was soft, almost gentle. "I was wondering when you'd come." Alex's hand was at his side, empty. His heart was pounding, his mind racing.