Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Crime Log Mystery

                                                             Chapter 1

Filling my glass of water, I pick up the daily newspaper from my front porch. Groggily my eyes focus on the newspaper. Its 5 AM and I feel like I've been hit by a train. My head is spinning and I can't seem to focus. Seems like all that thrilling late night Netflix binge watching idea had backfired. I couldn't even see that well yet, but I could see well enough to see my name printed at the very top of the crime log. The water that was once in my mouth flew out and onto the newspaper. I was in utter shock/disbelief. My eyes widened and I was no longer tired. I quickly skimmed the log. How could a spy like me get on the front cover of the crime log? And why would I murder and blow up a billion dollar company's headquarters? Millions of questions filled my head. I swear, I never murdered anyone. I must have been framed. This is not good! So long for keeping my identity a secret. The authorities would've found me by now, where are they!?! Speaking of the authorities, why hasn't the US Government sent an extraction team yet. After all, I am a very highly ranked spy. At this point, I don't even care that I busted my cover or that I could loose my job - all that is important now is escaping this wretched place. Thankfully, I had sniper training and was taught how to get out of situations like these. I quickly pack up my important belongings - which currently is, everything I own. The next step to escaping, according to the US Gov Handbook is to disguise yourself, which I always have done. And finally the last step to escaping is : exit the building which I was about to do when I heard and knock on the door and voices saying, "POLICE!, Open up!, You're under arrest!"

                                                            Chapter 2         

Plan B: "Hold on I'm getting dressed", I said. Quiet as a mouse, I promptly opened the window and initiated my cowboy abilities. As the police threatened to break open the door, I lassoed one end of the rope to one of the couches' legs and the other end to the parking lot light closest to my car and pulled out my zip-line handle. Being on the twelfth floor in the hotel, hardly anyone noticed me - a spy disguised as a hiker zip-lining across the parking lot with what looked like a hiking bag. Normally, police would be on my tail by now, or someone would've seen me, but they weren't. Note to Self: Police service in New Mexico is really faulty. From what I had heard, there were only 3 officers at the door. Once at my car I revved up my engine and got ready to go when 3 police cars came into the parking lot.

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