Malcolm Crawford Novels & Stories

“ boss.” Creed yelled barging into the guest room I’m staying in “What?” I mumbled with a pillow over my head “ The stuff for the cameras should arrive tomorrow morning” he announced “ okay? You woke me up to tell me that?” I growled tucking the pillow around my head “ yeah so you can get a move on with Charlotte because we will be leaving in three day?” He huffed tugging on the blanket “ get the fuck out Creed” I yell “ Okay but that’s your funeral when you miss out on it.” He states I don’t say anything till I hear the door close

I was too angry to savor the moment feeling of hurt and betrayal, too furious to think of sentencing him to a slow and painful death. 'Should I gouge out your other eye too?' 'Please, don't…' he trailed off, shaking his head vigorously. I took in a deep, long breath, letting my lips spread into a menacing grin. 'Where is Malcolm?' I asked with a menacing grin. 'Florida,' 'Where in Florida?' 'Hiding at my grandmother's old cottage. He will move to New Haven in three days time…' 'Good enough for me,' I smirked.

He read my confused look. “Marco, this is Malcolm Sanchez, the Head of Covert Operations in the CIA. He’s an old acquaintance of mine from my early Army days.” “Hi, Mr Sanchez,” I said, still confused. Malcolm walked over and stood in front of my bed. His medium long brown hair had shades of grey in it, and his black suit was tight fit to boast his muscular physique. His eyes were a dark brown and they seemed to hook me as I gazed at him. “Marco, Gerard here told me everything you did on this mission. Your bravery, your tenacity, your skill and your resilience are truly remarkable. And something occurred to me. You’re so young.”

Inside the elevator running upwards, Mizu was holding a rectangular card with her profile. The supposed to be named was written as Player 11659, with the data record of her skills and people killed, showed in the pentagon shape on the side, which is 'Zero.' Then a capitalize letter on the topmost indicates the group she's in, the "EAST HOUSE" and her level under her pic, 'Level 1' a beginner. This will change every fight, she will have, after the scanning.

"Connor and Keith Saunders! How dare they cause such a scene in public and show such blatant disrespect to Mr. Cole! And I can't believe that Jay Saunders has the audacity to stick up for his good-for-nothing sons! This is unacceptable! Get the cars ready, and summon the troops! I need a thousand soldiers ready for this!" With that, Malcolm turned to grab his coat and stormed out the door. By the time he arrived at the door, his second-in-command had finished rounding up a thousand soldiers as per his orders.

He thought about what the maid told him. Without Serena's knowledge, he'd been getting information of what she's been doing through her personal maid. It was the only way he could keep watch on her without being close to her. And just like every other day, she had come with another update. Murphy Damien. A count's son. He's been lurking around Serena lately and he doesn't like it one bit but he can't ask Serena directly or it'll need to more questions. He'll have to start doing his own investigations on him without Serena knowing.

~~18 years old~~ Trevor alighted from the old beat-up truck he often drove and sprinted inside the clinic. He halted by the reception desk and puffed out a breath whilst holding his side. The blonde sitting in the tiny cubicle tilted her slender brows as she stared at him. "I am Trevor Williamson. My mom is here." The receptionist, whose name on her badge reads Charity nodded. She fixed the glasses she had slid down her nose to assess the boy who looked to be in his late teenage years back to her face.

Malcolm stood there, clutching a black briefcase. "The hard drive," he hacked. "I have it. All the files. All the voice recordings." Kc didn't move. His gaze was fixed on Adrian. "You programmed every detail. But you didn't factor in loyalty."

Kids lining up to buy gum from Charles Hartley for two dollars a pack. I rushed to my locker. Five minutes until the first period. “Yo!” I turned. Mason Drew. One of the few genuinely evil people in my class. Buzz cut. Good face. Around my height—thankfully. He wore a pair of Miles Morales Jordans, my dream shoes. “How was Mexico, my man?” he asked. “I didn’t go this year. Budget.” He laughed. “Dude, you got infinite money.” “I’m not rich. Have you seen my car?”

He puts his phone on the table for everyone to see Malcolm. "How's everyone? How are you, mate?" Malcolm asked me. As soon as he saw me, he grinned. "I'm good, Malc. How are you doing?" I raised my right hand for a cheers as I held a beer glass. Malcom is a farmer in Australia. He owns a big dairy and meat farm and is very successful in his business ventures. The boys came closer to see Malcolm on the screen. Xavion grabbed his phone and showed it to everyone. The rest of the boys greeted Malcolm until someone called, trying to join the conversation.