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by David Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Other · Dark · #1860188
A good cop on a rogue operation meets his death, but death isn't the end of his mission.
A JOB TO FINISH

CHAPTER 1: The Dead Man

The dead man’s eyes stared unblinkingly at the clear night sky. There was only a sliver of the moon and the stars staring back, but this hardly bothered him. Waves, salty and cloying, tugged at his body, but this didn’t bother him either, though he resisted their efforts to drag him back into the sea. His fingers clutched at the sand, anchoring him in place.

When he’d washed up on shore, those fingers had been straight and relaxed.

Images cascaded before the dead man. They weren’t thoughts exactly, but a replay of past events that intruded on his rest. He felt tired, more tired than any living being could truly comprehend or experience. To his very core he desired to give in to the exhaustion that permeated his every cell. However, a competing impulse prevented him from succumbing. Against all earthly law, he refused to surrender to the void sucking at him. He had something to do, something to finish, and he couldn’t let go until it was done. He had only the vaguest sense of what that was, and he knew he couldn’t do it tonight, but he would accomplish his take no matter how much he wanted to rest.

Eventually, the images told him where he had to go. Slowly he sat up, then rose to his feet. This was not physically difficult. Limbs that should have at least begun to stiffen were supple and strong. What he fought against was the overwhelming sense of exhaustion, the desire to stop moving, stop struggling. Impossibly, he won that battle and smoothly, if slowly, he began to walk.

As the dead man walked, the images began again, showing him what he had once been, reaching back to that very morning. He had no sense of loss or returning to that life, but he would complete the final job that his living self had undertaken.


CHAPTER 2: A Good Cop, a Rogue Operation
Lt. Samuel Hillman nodded in grim satisfaction as he listened to the informant. His gaze held the nervous eyes of Tommy Woo, forcing him to tell Sam everything he knew or face dire consequences.
“I told you, it’s going down at 11:00 tonight,” Tommy said in a pleading voice, sweat standing out on his upper lip. “The Praying Mantis is docked at Pier 42. Weng’s having a shipment of drugs brought in when it’ll be too dark for anyone to see much of anything. The other ship’s coming in at Pier 43. If you want to catch him, that’s the time to do it.”
Lt. Hillman’s face developed a slow smile as he thought about what Tommy was telling him. It made sense. Piers 42 and 43 were the last ones at the dock, perfect if you wanted to avoid prying eyes. While 11:00 might seem early, in a sleepy town like Wakeford, S.C., it was just about perfect. Furthermore, according to Tommy, Weng had purchased space at Piers at 40-43, and the dock master hardly cared if two of those slips went unused.
Sam gave Tommy another hard look, and was gratified to see his face grow even paler. Tommy wasn’t just an informant for the money. He knew what would happen if he tried to screw Sam in any way. The information that would ruin his life was located with Sam’s lawyer, and if anything happened to Sam it would be sent to the FBI. Tommy knew that, so Sam trusted what Tommy told him.
“Get your ass back before they think something’s going on,” Sam growled. Tommy sprang up and ran out of the room that Sam thought of as his local safe house.
“Geez Sam,” the room’s other occupant groused, “do you think he’s on the level? This seems like a pretty weird place for a player like Weng Li to operate.”
Sam turned to his friend and ally, one of the only two men he really trusted, and gave him his most reassuring look. “Yeah Jimmy,” he replied, “Tommy hasn’t liked to me in 3 years, and Weng’s smart enough to know that this is the last place anyone would expect him to operate. Besides,” he continued in a more light-hearted tone, “if I’m wrong then we’ll abort the mission and finish up our vacation.”
Jimmy shrugged at that and headed towards the same door Tommy had used, though at a much more relaxed pace. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll tell Paul to be here by 10:00. I already told Laura not to wait up, it was going to be a boy’s night out.”
After Jimmy left, Sam painstakingly inspected all of the equipment once more. He’d had to buy it with his own money, using connections he wasn’t supposed to have. Certainly, he could have cleared the operation with his C.O., Captain Kurtz, and gotten regulation equipment, back-up, whatever he’d needed. Thing was, if he’d done that he knew he’d have traveled here for nothing.
Shaking his head in disgust, he marveled at the fact he had only two men in his department, and only two, that he could trust. A lot of men were afraid of Weng Li, others were being paid off by him, and a lot of guys fell into both categories. He was convinced Kurtz belonged in the second, if not the third, group. That had presented a lot of problem until he’d figured it out, and he still didn’t have enough evidence to go to Internal Affairs, he’d finally found a way to turn it to his advantage.
His expression change from disgusted to satisfied when he thought about how Captain Kurtz had suggested that he, Jimmy and Paul take some time off. They’d all been busting ass for who knew how long and clearly needed a break. Sam’s automatic refusal had died on his lips, and he’d allowed Kurtz to talk him into it. His instincts said there was some reason for Kurtz to push him to take a break and take the only two men who were really helping him go after Weng Li with him.
Sam had redoubled his surreptitious efforts to figure out what was going on, and learned that Weng was going to be involved in some kind of exchange in this sleepy town. His contacts in Asia were coming in, and this was a chance to get photos of those contacts, who’d kept their identities well hidden. Sam had gotten in touch with officials in China who’d make good use of that information, and would then share anything they could learn with Sam. Once he had enough information he’d be able to bypass Kurtz, maybe using his contact with the FBI, and wrap up the crime lord.
Completing his check of the surveillance equipment, weaponry and body armor, Sam headed out. Supremely confident he’d covered all the angles, Sam went to live out his last 12 hours.
© Copyright 2012 David (davidofohio at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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