N.D.L.E.

Johnathon LaToma has just started his new job as a federal agent. This is his first adventure with his new co-workers.

The minute Jonny LaToma ambled into the NDLE headquarters, no one trusted him except Nikki Carterra, James Jarred Scarth, and Director Jones Murphy. James was the team leader, and respected his team as he expected them to respect him. His biggest scare factor was his physical appearance. He had murky brown hair, combed over the top of his forehead. His piercing green eyes could bore a hole right through your skull. Nikki, however, was more innocent looking, and had a girlish face, chocolate brown hair, and innocent, hazel eyes, which made everyone think she was a regular New Yorker, even though she was anything but. Jonny himself was just plain. A brunette spike sat on the front of his forehead, and his eyes were dull sapphires set in his head. He wore a pale green polo shirt with white stripes, kaki dress pants, and shadowy black dress shoes.

            Johnny and Scarth paced quickly into Director Murphy’s office. Lawrence Greenfield, Johnny’s new coworker, just shook his head.

“He looks like an Easter bunny,” he sighed annoyed. Not that Lawrence was much different. He was dressed exactly the same, except Lawrence’s shirt was blue. What with his piercing green eyes, and hair so black it was almost purple, Lawrence kind of looked like the Easter bunny of death. Beside him, his coworker, Becca Seinfeld, nodded. Becca was much like Nikki, in the fact they both looked innocent. Her straight, jet black hair, and coffee brown eyes, paired with her ruffled, sea foam green blouse and white trousers made her look like a dainty fairy. The only thing that made anyone nervous about Becca was her shoes: five inches of sea foam green terror.

“Lawrence,” Nikki winced almost pleadingly. “Don’t give him a hard time. He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Yet,” Lawrence replied coldly. Becca, however, shrugged.

“Maybe we should trust him, Lawrence,” she tried to reason. Lawrence’s reply, it at all possible, was even colder that the last.

“I won’t trust him until I know he won’t put a bullet in my back,” he grumbled, and strode back to his desk.

Back in Director Murphy’s office, Johnny was completing the final line if his pledge to NDLE.

“So help me God,” Director Murphy read from a sheet of paper on his desk.

“So help me God,” Johnny repeated his hand over his heart. Then, he sighed in relief.

“Alright,” Director Murphy congratulated. “Johnathon Wesley LaToma, welcome to the National Discrete Law Enforcers Northwest division.” He shook Johnny’s hand. Even Scarth grinned. He remembered how proud he had been when he had witnessed Lawrence’s taking of the same pledge. That hadn’t been too long before the accident… Scarth shuddered at the memory. Thankfully, the Director and Johnny had been busy with paperwork, so they hadn’t noticed.

When Johnny and Scarth returned to the group of five desks, shaped in something of a pentagon, everyone introduced themselves to Johnny politely, except for Lawrence, who acted as if Johnny was the slime on the walls of a manhole. After telling Johnny his name, gave him and evil stare. This kind of made Johnny feel uncomfortable, but he made sure not to make it show. After about thirty minutes of a swapping stories of past police operations, Scarth’s phone let out a shrill scream, as loud as a the static on a broken microphone.

“Hello?” Scarth spoke into the receiver. A voice, too muffled to make out, came from the phone. “OK, we’re on our way.” Scarth muttered, jotting something down on a post-it note. He tore the note from the pad, gathered his weapon, a nine millimeter hand gun, and ordered the rest of the team, “Come on. Kidnapping.” Everyone glanced at everyone else for once today without any dirty looks, and followed.

The scene of the crime was a homey little apartment in downtown Manhattan. The people outside it, however, looked a little less than at home. Nikki and Becca found out, in taking their statements, their names were Jason and Amy Brown. Jason was a muscular fellow, who wore a Yankees’ cap on his bald head. Amy was a slender blond woman, who was dressed somewhat like a lawyer. Their only daughter, Alexis Brown, was kidnapped this morning at seven thirty, despite her parents’ attempts.

Throughout the investigation, Lawrence, Johnny, and Scarth found several sets of finger prints, and then Lawrence found something I hope no one would find in their fourteen-year-old daughter’s room.

“Oh man!” he exclaimed, pulling out a silver pistol out from under Alexis’ bed. “Skit and Stat are going to love this!” Johnny froze and looked up from what he was doing.

            “Who?” he asked confusedly.

            Skit and Stat Smith are twin employees at NDLE. They both have degrees in Forensic Science, post mortem, and pre mortem medical examination. Upon the team’s return to NDLE, Scarth took Johnny with him to the lab, where the twins worked, which was on the bottom floor. Stat was at a computer sorting out digital files. Johnny only knew it was Stat, because Stat had a tee shirt that on the back was black with large white letters spelling, “STAT,” and on the front, “STAT,” was spelled in black letters on white cloth. His light brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail. His pants were at the proper height, and the tongues of his shoes weren’t three times his shoe size. Johnny liked this guy already.

            “Hey, Stat,” Scarth greeted. “I got you and your brother a new lab rat.” Stat turned and smiled at Johnny.

“Great!” he extended his hand. “I’m Stat Smith.” Johnny shook Stat’s hand, and introduced himself. Stat turned and called,

“Skit, get in here. Scarth’s gotten us some evidence and a lab rat.” Moments later, another man came into the room, who looked, and was dressed exactly like Stat, except this man’s shirt read, “SKIT.” After Johnny and Skit introduced themselves, and Skit and Stat promised to go over the evidence, Johnny and Scarth walked back to the desks.

Until eleven p.m., the team went over the Brown’s phone records, traced everything they bought, and ran deep background checks on everyone they had communicated with in the past six months, but nothing popped up, soon they all set out on their ways. But, as Nikki was packing her things, Johnny stayed behind.

“Hey, Nikki,” he began uncomfortably. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did, Nikki replied, shouldering her bag. “But, feel free to ask something else?”

“What does Lawrence have against me?” Johnny asked almost immediately.

“Ahh,” Nikki replied. “That’s a touchy subject.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, Lawrence had one partner and Scarth when he started NDLE. His partner wasn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box, but Lawrence was a pretty bright crayon. So, when his partner tried to infiltrate the agency, Lawrence found out, and confronted him about it in the bathroom, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best idea. His partner shot him square in the left shoulder. By the time Scarth had found out, his partner had escaped, and Lawrence had lost a lot of blood. He’s okay now.”

“So what does this have to do with me?” Johnny questioned.

“His name was Avery Scott,” Nikki replied. “He worked at NYPD before here, just like you.” Johnny nodded slowly.

“Alright,” he murmured. “Thanks for the information, Nikki.”

“Oh, no problem! Bye!”

“Bye!”

 

Those goodbyes didn’t last very long. AT four thirty, Scarth’s cell phone shrieked again.  He answered with a weary “Hello?” Skit and Stat both screamed,

“Scarth! Check your e-mail! Get your team! Go!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Scarth murmured, more awake now. “Stat, tell me words.” Stat spoke immediately.

“We found Alexis’ fingerprints, and someone else’s on the gun, but Alexis’ were just on the handle, not the bullets, c**k, or trigger. Therefore, Alexis’ hand was force on the thing. His coordinates are in your inbox!”

“Hold on!” Scarth exclaimed. “Skit, who is he?” Skit’s reply almost made Scarth jump out of his skin.

“Avery Scott.”

In no time, Scarth, Lawrence, Johnny, Becca, and Nikki were outside a broken down warehouse in downtown New York City. Scarth gave Lawrence a motion, and Lawrence kick down the door. Everyone ran in screaming at the top of their lungs, “NDLE, PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” There was a tall, slender man across the bare room. His blond hair was long and shaggy, and his coal eyes pierced, even the air around them .There was a teenage girl at his feet. She had bottle blond hair and wild blue eyes. Clearly, she was Alexis Brown, and thankfully, Avery had not shot her yet.

“My how you’ve grown,” he mocked Lawrence. Lawrence just shook his head.

“Why, Avery?” he asked innocently, his hands shaking.

“Because, Lawrence,” Avery answered like it was completely obvious. “I have absolutely nothing better to do. I surly can’ get out of my charges I already earned. Why not add kidnapping and…” he thought for a second, and then, he turned his gun at Nikki.

 

BANG!

 

 But, Nikki did not fall. Avery did. Johnny had landed a bullet in his right shoulder.

Avery lived. An ambulance took him to the hospital, and he was later taken to a maximum security prison.

Johnny and Lawrence sat outside on a tree stump.

“You know,” Lawrence yawned. “Maybe I judged you too quickly.”

“You had good reasons.”

“Did Nikki tell you that?”

Johnny nodded, so did Lawrence, and they shook hands in a truce. And together, they watched the New York Sunset rise.

 

Author's Note

Give me harsh criticism! Give me all you got, and don't be shy! SERIOUSLY!!!!

Reviews

[Norie C]

I know you want harsh criticism and all...but this is very well written and very descriptive. I love your use of adjectives; this all flows very well. You are an amazing writer in general and even more so for your age. All I can possibly say is to add to it and keep a series going!

[Emma L.]

I think I did O.K., but this is still needs some work...

Who am I kidding. It needs a TON of work.