My first three A5 Pages. Aiming to give a dramatic effect and to keep the reader interested. Pages that follow will 'slow' down in the sense of the plot but i'm wondering about your opinions for this:
The bullet rippled through the air, catching the assailant in the leg as he was threw to the ground by the direct impact. Little noise followed except the unsuccessful scuttling of feet upon a cold, hard ground. The figure carried on trying to get up, but the bullet forced his leg to give way, until finally he shifted himself onto his back and looked up at the second figure, towering over him. No words were shared between the two, but rather, a second gunshot, one that roared through the air, in a much more dramatic way than the first, hitting the grounded target in the chest and knocking him straight out cold. The throwing of a badge, not that big in size, which landed directly above the bullet wound, followed this. It was gold plated and was crafted with great care and precision. In fact, it very much looked like a police badge of some kind, the type that hangs in the wallet or sits on the shirt of an officer. The darkness made it hard to identify it further, but it has a presence about it and shone vibrantly as the figure walked away from the scene, a small beaming light in a street of perpetual darkness.
*
“The body, which was recovered early this morning, was that of the serial rapist John Matthews. Convicted for seventeen indecent assaults on women, he created an atmosphere of fear within the community. The justice-bringer of this criminal has not yet been named but officers at the scene have commented on a badge related to the a federal or national authority, who generally involve themselves in government-related crime. No further information is available at thi....”
The screen became black suddenly, as a man slumped back onto the sofa, dressed in a vest and jogging bottoms. Standing at about 5’9, he wasn’t incredibly tall, but he has an extremely toned physic and his arms were muscle-bound and flexed, as if he had just spent the past hour lifting weights. His eyes were brown and deep, the same colour as his short, messy hair. Strands ran down his forehead, creating a scruffy but somewhat handsome look. His mouth and nose were well structured and the small scar that lay on his left cheek was visible but not disgusting nor revolting. Instead, it seems to fit his face well – the look of distress amongst a selection of rugged, defined features. Laying the control on the edge of the sofa, he sat forward and rested his head in his hands. The events of last night flew about his head aimlessly, trying to fit into order but not getting anywhere. They refused to subside entirely and only settled when the phone rang, bringing him out of his stance. Picking up the phone, he spoke:
“What is it?” He said the words fast and sharply, weary of some repercussions from his actions the night before. After all, he broke the rules, and he knew it.
“What the hell do you think your playing at Jack?” came the reply, “Not only have you taken care of something we distinctively told you not to do, you’ve left your badge there. This could be a very fatal blow for us Jack – and trust me, I will bring you down with us.” Jack didn’t reply at first. In stead he smirked slightly, reached for a cigarette and lit it, taking in the calm, soothing effects of the nicotine as it travelled down his lungs. After a few tugs, he bought it down to his lap and brought the phone closer to the side of his head.
“Shit happens,” he replied, before bringing the phone back down to the receiver.
*
The phone didn’t stop ringing all day. It wasn’t the public or angry mobs ringing to discuss their views but rather the government calling over and over again. The Anti-Terrorist Unit, of which Jack belonged to, were usually not involved in anything to do with domestic crime. So for Jack to shoot dead a rapist is very unusual and out of the ordinary. Then, to find a badge with ‘ATU’ embodied onto it is even more trouble for the government. They wanted someone to blame and incidentally, all the motives aimed straight at Jack. He didn’t pick up the phone though, didn’t allow them to shower him with questions and comments, making threats about the security of him, his job and his life. He remained indoors and slept, trying to put the pieces together. But whenever they looked so close to coming together, they would detach again, throwing the whole story out of orbit and into a state of confusion. Jack had acted on impulse but had got it wrong. That much he knew. He also knew that John Matthews, the rapist, had no direct links to his investigation. But before he got a chance to confirm this, John had opened fire, and Jack was forced to take him down. The small details and snippets were harder to put into place, and for once, Jack wished he had listened to his boss. He had advised him against following up the tip regarding John Matthews…
The phone rang again, probably the fifteenth or sixteenth time during the day. But this time Jack decided to answer it. The ringing combination of three rings, then two, then three, was a personal calling tune from Jack’s partner in the ATU, Julie. Quickly rising out of bed, he rushed down to pick up the phone, eager to be able to talk with the only person he trusted.
“Jack, it’s me Julie. I heard about the news.” Jack smiled as he took in Julie’s soft yet concerned voice through the phone. His feelings for her, as friendly as they may be, were so strong he strived to talk with her and to be with her. A ten-year partnership had bought the two very close together, to the point where he became concerned with her safety more than anyone else’s. Now, in this time of crisis and confusion, he needed her more than ever.
“It’s good to hear from you Julie,” Jack replied calmly, “How are you?”
“Jack this is not the time. You are in deep shit. The boss isn’t happy and they are considering filing you for a suspension. Your actions have caused terrible issues in the ATU. We’ve been very close to being detected and your to blame. If other countries get wind of our unit, we could face serious repercussions. You need to hope and pray Jack, hope and pray you get out of this alive.” Jack remained speechless and took in the words, lost in translation as he transformed them into actions, which played, inside his head. The seriousness of the situation only began to hit him when he realised that suspension would mean the possible loss of his career. The ATU was all that Jack had. Having lost his parents sometime during his childhood, he had a lonely and secluded upbringing, existing within the walls of a place he dared not to call home. He had no friends, no relatives and a dire future ahead of him. It was at this point, after turning nineteen, that he tried-out to join the Navy. Ten years later and here he was, firmly positioned in the ATU, one of the main spies for national and international terrorism. He had only been in the ATU for six years; having joined at the age of twenty-nine but the experience was enough to teach him that those who work with such an organisation become a part of that organisation for the rest of their life’s.
“Jack?” Julie’s voice sent a shiver down Jack’s spine as he focused his attention back on her.
“What do you suggest I do?” replied Jack, “I threw that badge to make a point Julie. I didn’t throw it for no fuckin’ reason. It was suppose to be the calling card for them to stand down, but it turned out…there was no ‘them.’” Both Jack and Julie remained silent for a moment, Jack breathing deeply downs the phone and Julie attempting to figure out the solution to a very serious problem.
“There is nothing you can do Jack,” she said slowly, “You just got to hope and pray this mess is cleared up. I have to go now… Talk soon Jack.” Allowing no reply, Julie put the phone down, sending the ringing sound of the toner straight into Jack’s ears, setting the lonely atmosphere for him.
The phone stopped ringing once it reached midnight. Jack had no idea if it was numerous callers or just a couple constantly ringing but whoever it was, they were insistent on getting their say. The absence of the ringing didn’t help Jack sleep however. He was eager to let this all die away, to regain some sense of a normal life, but he was also wanted to carry on with his initial investigation, to explore the next branch of the proposed ‘Iraq-Cell.’ Taking into account everything, which had happened so far, it was unlikely he’d be given such allowance. Everyone else was extremely sceptical of this secret cell, but Jack believed it would end up being real. Unfortunately, so many rumours crop up in the ATU daily that very few are taken seriously enough to instigate a massive, full-out investigation. So for him to act on impulse on what was considered a fairly low-risk case, causing murder in the process, was a very, very risky game. In any case, Jack wanted to be back on the case, and he would try his best to do so.
The pager interrupted Jack’s thoughts and feelings as it vibrated on his bedside cabinet. Puzzled and disturbed, he lifted himself from his bed and reached for it, wondering why the hell it was vibrating. Surely they weren’t putting him on a new investigation after the recent incidents, and besides, he hadn’t even come close to finishing his outstanding one. Holding it in his hand, he accepted the received message and stared at the pager intensely. The message was short and discrete and spelt out anger for Jack. Growling under his breath, he threw it fiercely against the wall and watched as it collided with the brickwork before the parts veered off, in random directions. The screen remained intact and fell down against the edge of the carpet, still lit and the words still visible:
“One month’s suspension begins tomorrow Jack. There was no other way…”
The bullet rippled through the air, catching the assailant in the leg as he was threw to the ground by the direct impact. Little noise followed except the unsuccessful scuttling of feet upon a cold, hard ground. The figure carried on trying to get up, but the bullet forced his leg to give way, until finally he shifted himself onto his back and looked up at the second figure, towering over him. No words were shared between the two, but rather, a second gunshot, one that roared through the air, in a much more dramatic way than the first, hitting the grounded target in the chest and knocking him straight out cold. The throwing of a badge, not that big in size, which landed directly above the bullet wound, followed this. It was gold plated and was crafted with great care and precision. In fact, it very much looked like a police badge of some kind, the type that hangs in the wallet or sits on the shirt of an officer. The darkness made it hard to identify it further, but it has a presence about it and shone vibrantly as the figure walked away from the scene, a small beaming light in a street of perpetual darkness.
*
“The body, which was recovered early this morning, was that of the serial rapist John Matthews. Convicted for seventeen indecent assaults on women, he created an atmosphere of fear within the community. The justice-bringer of this criminal has not yet been named but officers at the scene have commented on a badge related to the a federal or national authority, who generally involve themselves in government-related crime. No further information is available at thi....”
The screen became black suddenly, as a man slumped back onto the sofa, dressed in a vest and jogging bottoms. Standing at about 5’9, he wasn’t incredibly tall, but he has an extremely toned physic and his arms were muscle-bound and flexed, as if he had just spent the past hour lifting weights. His eyes were brown and deep, the same colour as his short, messy hair. Strands ran down his forehead, creating a scruffy but somewhat handsome look. His mouth and nose were well structured and the small scar that lay on his left cheek was visible but not disgusting nor revolting. Instead, it seems to fit his face well – the look of distress amongst a selection of rugged, defined features. Laying the control on the edge of the sofa, he sat forward and rested his head in his hands. The events of last night flew about his head aimlessly, trying to fit into order but not getting anywhere. They refused to subside entirely and only settled when the phone rang, bringing him out of his stance. Picking up the phone, he spoke:
“What is it?” He said the words fast and sharply, weary of some repercussions from his actions the night before. After all, he broke the rules, and he knew it.
“What the hell do you think your playing at Jack?” came the reply, “Not only have you taken care of something we distinctively told you not to do, you’ve left your badge there. This could be a very fatal blow for us Jack – and trust me, I will bring you down with us.” Jack didn’t reply at first. In stead he smirked slightly, reached for a cigarette and lit it, taking in the calm, soothing effects of the nicotine as it travelled down his lungs. After a few tugs, he bought it down to his lap and brought the phone closer to the side of his head.
“Shit happens,” he replied, before bringing the phone back down to the receiver.
*
The phone didn’t stop ringing all day. It wasn’t the public or angry mobs ringing to discuss their views but rather the government calling over and over again. The Anti-Terrorist Unit, of which Jack belonged to, were usually not involved in anything to do with domestic crime. So for Jack to shoot dead a rapist is very unusual and out of the ordinary. Then, to find a badge with ‘ATU’ embodied onto it is even more trouble for the government. They wanted someone to blame and incidentally, all the motives aimed straight at Jack. He didn’t pick up the phone though, didn’t allow them to shower him with questions and comments, making threats about the security of him, his job and his life. He remained indoors and slept, trying to put the pieces together. But whenever they looked so close to coming together, they would detach again, throwing the whole story out of orbit and into a state of confusion. Jack had acted on impulse but had got it wrong. That much he knew. He also knew that John Matthews, the rapist, had no direct links to his investigation. But before he got a chance to confirm this, John had opened fire, and Jack was forced to take him down. The small details and snippets were harder to put into place, and for once, Jack wished he had listened to his boss. He had advised him against following up the tip regarding John Matthews…
The phone rang again, probably the fifteenth or sixteenth time during the day. But this time Jack decided to answer it. The ringing combination of three rings, then two, then three, was a personal calling tune from Jack’s partner in the ATU, Julie. Quickly rising out of bed, he rushed down to pick up the phone, eager to be able to talk with the only person he trusted.
“Jack, it’s me Julie. I heard about the news.” Jack smiled as he took in Julie’s soft yet concerned voice through the phone. His feelings for her, as friendly as they may be, were so strong he strived to talk with her and to be with her. A ten-year partnership had bought the two very close together, to the point where he became concerned with her safety more than anyone else’s. Now, in this time of crisis and confusion, he needed her more than ever.
“It’s good to hear from you Julie,” Jack replied calmly, “How are you?”
“Jack this is not the time. You are in deep shit. The boss isn’t happy and they are considering filing you for a suspension. Your actions have caused terrible issues in the ATU. We’ve been very close to being detected and your to blame. If other countries get wind of our unit, we could face serious repercussions. You need to hope and pray Jack, hope and pray you get out of this alive.” Jack remained speechless and took in the words, lost in translation as he transformed them into actions, which played, inside his head. The seriousness of the situation only began to hit him when he realised that suspension would mean the possible loss of his career. The ATU was all that Jack had. Having lost his parents sometime during his childhood, he had a lonely and secluded upbringing, existing within the walls of a place he dared not to call home. He had no friends, no relatives and a dire future ahead of him. It was at this point, after turning nineteen, that he tried-out to join the Navy. Ten years later and here he was, firmly positioned in the ATU, one of the main spies for national and international terrorism. He had only been in the ATU for six years; having joined at the age of twenty-nine but the experience was enough to teach him that those who work with such an organisation become a part of that organisation for the rest of their life’s.
“Jack?” Julie’s voice sent a shiver down Jack’s spine as he focused his attention back on her.
“What do you suggest I do?” replied Jack, “I threw that badge to make a point Julie. I didn’t throw it for no fuckin’ reason. It was suppose to be the calling card for them to stand down, but it turned out…there was no ‘them.’” Both Jack and Julie remained silent for a moment, Jack breathing deeply downs the phone and Julie attempting to figure out the solution to a very serious problem.
“There is nothing you can do Jack,” she said slowly, “You just got to hope and pray this mess is cleared up. I have to go now… Talk soon Jack.” Allowing no reply, Julie put the phone down, sending the ringing sound of the toner straight into Jack’s ears, setting the lonely atmosphere for him.
The phone stopped ringing once it reached midnight. Jack had no idea if it was numerous callers or just a couple constantly ringing but whoever it was, they were insistent on getting their say. The absence of the ringing didn’t help Jack sleep however. He was eager to let this all die away, to regain some sense of a normal life, but he was also wanted to carry on with his initial investigation, to explore the next branch of the proposed ‘Iraq-Cell.’ Taking into account everything, which had happened so far, it was unlikely he’d be given such allowance. Everyone else was extremely sceptical of this secret cell, but Jack believed it would end up being real. Unfortunately, so many rumours crop up in the ATU daily that very few are taken seriously enough to instigate a massive, full-out investigation. So for him to act on impulse on what was considered a fairly low-risk case, causing murder in the process, was a very, very risky game. In any case, Jack wanted to be back on the case, and he would try his best to do so.
The pager interrupted Jack’s thoughts and feelings as it vibrated on his bedside cabinet. Puzzled and disturbed, he lifted himself from his bed and reached for it, wondering why the hell it was vibrating. Surely they weren’t putting him on a new investigation after the recent incidents, and besides, he hadn’t even come close to finishing his outstanding one. Holding it in his hand, he accepted the received message and stared at the pager intensely. The message was short and discrete and spelt out anger for Jack. Growling under his breath, he threw it fiercely against the wall and watched as it collided with the brickwork before the parts veered off, in random directions. The screen remained intact and fell down against the edge of the carpet, still lit and the words still visible:
“One month’s suspension begins tomorrow Jack. There was no other way…”
