Death In The City of Lights.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
John Cole decided to fly to Paris after stealing a box of black diammonds in a bank in Los Angeles.He was looking for happiness but somethin has happened during his arrival to France.

Submitted: March 03, 2008

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Submitted: March 03, 2008

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DEATH IN THE CITY OF LIGHTS.
Written by: Frantz A.Roody
Cole arrived in Paris on a Saturday afternoon. He was there, waiting to check out. He looked like he was in a hurry. The digital clock in front of him read 15:30 M.E. started to bother. He wanted to get out of that place. He wanted to start enjoying the scenery. Happiness. That’s what he was really looking for.
Five minutes later, he gazed at the clock again. He was getting more nervous while some other people in line started jostling. They were anxious, too. A moment later, a bell rang.
“Numo trois, passez s'il vous plait!,” said the voice. Cole looked at the white card in his hand. It said John Cole, born in Los Angeles,USA.Number 4.He sat still but bored.Aminute later,he heard the same voice again but in English this time.He stood up,then sat back down.He closed his eyes to yawn and try take away his fatigues.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he opened his eyes.High heels,a short skirt and long blond hair.He was amazed.That’s more like it, he thought. He started to smile as he looked at the young lady. She was beautiful and very attractive which made the passage for many thoughts to enter his mind. He really didn’t know what to do this time. He stood up, paced back and forth while observing the body.He, then, sat back down after a while.He watched her as she headed to Check out 3.
Five minutes later, she was ready and heading out of the airport. Cole didn’t want to let her get away, so he got ready to go to Check Out 4.To his surprise, the voice said
“Numo six. “Cole held his card up and, again, read 4.What was going on? Was he in trouble for some reasons? The voice repeated again in English .Cole got nutty as he looked at the young lady disappearing.
She was almost outside. She was standing in front of the last door when Cole looked up. She stopped there and observed the area. Clean. And Cole witnessed that she dropped something. What was it?
The same voice repeated over and over again. Cole’s anger grew much more. He picked up his bag, which contained one thing, and started running after the young lady. On his way outside, he found a card in front of the last door.
“Milly Lawson,” he read in a low voice. He didn’t worry much about the rest but started examinating the picture. The face was the one that he just saw a moment ago. It was her. Milly Lawson.
He hurried outside. He wanted to see her, talk to her and else. He gave a quick look on his right side. No sign of her. He turned to look on his left. There was no sign of life at all. He stood stolidly in front of the door. He was exhausted. He stared at the picture once more.
Suddenly, a car’s engine started. She was leaving the parking place. Cole held his bag firmly and headed to the other side of the street rapidly. He jumped in one of the cars and followed her. She was accelerating pretty fast.
Cole was about thirteen feet behind her. She tried to trick him by given signals that she was going left but continued on the same way until she reached the traffic lights where he had to stop. She evidently stopped but got more impatient as Cole got closer to her. A minute later, Cole arrived and the lights were still red. He tried to open up a conversation but didn’t work at all.
“Hey, Milly,”he called. She didn’t even bother answering him. She rather used the time to examine her pretty face in a mirror.
“Milly, I think you dropped something,”he tried again. And the lights turned green. He accelerated until he got close enough to her where she could actually hear him speak.
“Milly, is that your card,” he asked as he held the card up. She didn’t know what to say.
“Who are you?”
“John Cole, from Los Angeles.”
She was surprised and she hated Americans.
“So, why are you here,” she asked. She, then, slowed down. Cole looked at her straight in the beautiful eyes and answered:
“For more than you possibly think.” That was truly a fact. He wasn’t really here, following her just to give the card back, that she, herself dropped. But he didn’t want to be very noticeable.
“What is it exactly that you want?” she asked. She had no worries and was no more in a hurry. She sat comfortably and started to drive slowly.
The question needed an answer but Cole didn’t know what to say yet. Finally, a minute later, he came up with an answer.
“I am here to return a card of Milly Lawson.”
“Much thanks, Cole,” said Milly as she received the card from him. She then added a question.
“And, what do you want in reply?”
“A valuable reward that I would love to have is YOU,” expressed Cole. That was something. He made his point quite well, there. She looked at him and smiled.
“Then, you’ll have to catch up,” and she accelerated. Easy challenge, thought Cole.
He pressed the ACCELERATE button in the Hummer C12, and then selected by how much on the screen. He was only ten feet away from Milly whom was driving 130km/h.That was a challenge that Cole needed to take in order to have that young lady.
Evidently, the streets of Paris turned into racing ways. He followed her everywhere she went.Suddenly, a bug stung him in the neck as he was making a left and then, he lost control .The car bumped into a wall and all that was heard was: “Milly”. He came flying out of the front window. Milly stopped simultaneously and headed back to the Hummer. The corpse rested in front of her with his eyes wide open among the debris. She observed the body with tranquility and headed for the driver’s door. His bag was seated on the passenger’s seat next to him. Milly took it and opened it. Great fortune! She found a box full of black diamonds which Cole stole in a bank in L.A and $80,000.She hastily closed the bag and brought it to her car. She headed back to the dead body and gave him a smooth kiss on the lips.
“Thanks, again Cole.”


© Copyright 2017 Frantz A Roody. All rights reserved.

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