Story Views
Now:
Last Hour:
Last 24 Hours:
Total:

% of readers think this story is Fact. Add your two cents.

Each week, a chapter will be posted to my new upcoming novel, Shadows and Light, a Dean Koontz style fiction thriller involving the end times and the Book of Revelation from a Messianic Jewish perspective. If you enjoy nail biting, edge of your seat reading, you won’t want to miss this. Each chapter will arrive every week, exclusively on Beforeitsnews.com so enjoy! This an e-book in the making.

11/21 12:17 PM
 

“Can it be done?”

Silence.

The scrape of a boot on wet cement.  The snap click of a cigarette lighter.  A flaring flash, spark of light.  A puff of smoke, just a wisp.  The deep inhale of a satisfied nicotine addict.  Rattling throat.

“It can be done,” the smoker responded.

The two men stood in the rain swept alcove of the FBI building in downtown Washington DC.  Not the most anonymous place, but sometimes the thinking was — hide in plain sight.

“How soon?”

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?” The shorter of the two men, dressed in a soggy trench coat, asked impatiently.  He shifted from one foot to another, clearly more nervous than a chicken about to meet the blade of glittering butcher knife.

The smoker sized up the shorter man with narrowed eyes, and could no longer hide his disdain.  These idiot messengers Becker keeps sending are an insult, he thought to himself, scowling, sucking another deep drag on his cigarette. 

“What do you think?”  The smoker dropped his cigarette to the wet pavement and smashed it with his boot.

The shorter man now returned the scowl.  “Look, we already discussed payment–”

“I want 5 million before.  Then 5 million after.”

“That is NOT what Becker agreed to–!”

The smoker raised his hand to cut the shorter man’s diatribe off. “Then there is no deal.”

The shorter man, known only as Tipol — maybe some Jewish name — lowered his eyes in defeat.  “I’ll talk to Becker.” he muttered.

“Not good enough,” the smoker said.  “You agree now.  Here.  Or the deal’s off.”

“Look, I don’t have the authority to–”

The smoker cut him off with a sneer and pivoted on his foot, walking away from Tipol.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Tipol fade into the grayness and rain as he walked farther from the FBI building.  He won’t keep standing there for long.

As if reading the smoker’s thoughts, Tipol suddenly lurched into the rain, stomping through puddles, until he caught up with the swiftly walking smoker.

“Okay,” Tipol gasped angrily.  “5 million before.  5 million after.  Now, when can it be done?”

The two men continued to walk at a jogger’s pace through the sheets of rain, across the wide boulevard toward an autumn clothed park.

“Tomorrow.” The smoker answered without hesitating.  “Before the sun is down.  Tomorrow.”

Tipol stopped in his tracks, disbelief on his face.  He watched the smoker continuing into the park.

“Tomorrow?” Tipol whispered.  He suddenly raced forward to once more catch up with the smoker.  “But that’s the anniversary of–”

“Appropriate, don’t you think?  50th anniversary too.” The smoker laughed.  

Gold, red, yellow and orange spread over the two men from the fall seasoned leaves.

“You’re sure?  Tomorrow?  I can tell Becker this?”

The smoker, known only in public circles as Mr. Migen, stopped in mid walk and spun around, facing a startled Tipol.  “The President of these United States will be dead by tomorrow.”
 

Shadows And Light: Read Chapter >> 2