Supernatural Fbi Agents Novels & Stories

"Special Agent and Detective Nora Stevenson. Everyone calls Agent 64." A ripple of shock passed through the room. The name Agent 64 carried weight. Every single man in this room had probably heard it at some point, had probably cursed it under their breath. The DiFronzo brothers exchanged looks of pure disbelief. I had been their ghost, the agent who had hounded them for years, always just out of reach. They knew my alias, but they had never known my face. "You are a cop?" Dant was the first to speak. I met his gaze, saying nothing.

The man held out a black leather billfold that had an official-looking embossed ID card inside it. “I’m agent Smith.” He nodded to his partner. “This is agent Jones. We’re from the BSI.” “Huh?” Cali said, frowning. “What’s that? I never heard of it.” “Bureau of Supernatural Investigations,” Smith said. “We’re like Men in Black,” Jones said, “except instead of dealing with aliens, we deal with the supernatural.” “Yeah, we’re like MIB all right,” Smith said, “only without the really expensive suits and cool sunglasses.”

There was an unmistakable air of power about her, her expression fixed in a perpetually serious frown that seemed capable of extracting information from anyone. She retrieved an ID from her jacket pocket and flashed it in front of the two local detectives, her movements swift and efficient. "I'm Special Agent Morgan Quinn from the FBI. We're taking over this case. Please see yourselves out," she stated crisply, her voice leaving no room for argument. Turning her attention to Emma, she softened her demeanor slightly. "You must be the famous Emma Callum. It's nice to meet you," Agent Quinn said, extending her hand towards Emma, who hesitated briefly before tentatively reaching out to shake han

"She will remain safe. As long as you cooperate." "How are you even here? You are supposed to be under federal investigation—" "Am I?" He smiled. "Funny thing about federal cases. They require evidence. Witnesses. Paper trails. All of which seem to have disappeared. Along with several key FBI agents who were building the case against me." My blood went cold. "You killed federal agents?" "I did nothing. People make choices. Some agents chose to accept generous retirement packages. Others chose to have unfortunate accidents. The world moves in mysterious ways."

It was the only way I could get him to talk. “I’m Dean, and I am your new FBI handler. The other one died, but I won't, so don’t play any games. We no longer just want you to hand over your father on a silver platter. We want your husband, too. I’m going to give you bugs from time to time for you to plant on him, and I need information on him so we can take him down. He’s just as much of a parasite as your father is, and we want to get rid of them all.”

"I just got word. Three separate packs are defecting to the Council. They're trading their Alpha information for protection." Adrian's expression hardens. "Which packs?" "Russo. Chen. Williams," Marcus says. "They're afraid, Adrian. They see the Council strength and they're choosing survival over loyalty." Adrian doesn't respond. But I feel it through our connection, I could feel betrayal, abandonment. The weight of leadership when people break. My phone buzzes. An encrypted message from Vivian. She's been on the surface, monitoring human news channels. "The FBI is getting involved," the message says. "They're investigating paranormal involvement in city violence. There's talk of federal int

said Husain. “And it’s up to the two of us to find out whether this is indeed connected to a major organisation, as the FBI mentioned earlier.” “Do you believe what the FBI said?” Husain asked again. It was not without reason that Husain questioned Shahnaz’s trust in the FBI. After all, it was an open secret that the FBI was not merely a specialised, elite agency belonging to the United States with extraordinary capabilities; it also frequently intervened in matters occurring even outside its own country.

- What do you want? - Sir, the FBI are here, and they have a warrant. "The show has started." - I think. - What do they want? I'm busy. - Sir, they have a warrant and... What are they doing? You can't come in like that. Stop... The door opens, and an FBI agent enters, followed by several men, some with electronic devices. - What the hell is this? - Simon asks, standing up and advancing on the Special Agent. - My name is Special Agent Brown. – he says, handing a piece of paper to my father.

Stay down. Jerome had begun to stand, but he stopped himself when one of the law enforcement agents who had been on the boat suddenly came with his weapon drawn. The man yelled at the other to "Drop your weapon!" Jerome told the youth, "Easy now, youngster." "I'm FBI. Put the call in on—" "Shut up! My spouse has passed away. I couldn't care less if you were the Lone Ranger. I don't give a damn. The news broke Anna's heart. Oh, God. "He didn't kill your partner. He works for the FBI. It was—"

“FBI.” The lights of the cars flashed red and blue, washing over the cracked concrete outside. Dozens of agents swarmed the entrance, weapons drawn. “Wait, he called the FBI on us? I hate this guy.” Blade said with a frown. They were not criminals, they were something even worse. Their names did not exist in any documents, to the system they were ghosts. Mikhail was playing a very dangerous game. “Move,” Jaylen snapped. “Now.” Spade grabbed the bag of drives and documents from the table. Blade kicked open the back exit. They ran through the corridor, boots pounding against the cold floor. The alarms began to wail, echoing through the building like a dying scream.