HUDSON BEACH FLORIDA

A Chapter by WRITERSBLOCK

THE WOMAN WITH NO FACE

IT WAS THREE THIRTY IN THE MORNING AND THE FOG HAD JUST ROLLED IN ON OUR TARGET; OUR TARGET, A 33 YEAR OLD IRISH FEMALE, SITTING ON THE BOARDWALK NEXT TO SAM'S BEACH CLUB. VISIBILITY WAS NEXT TO NOTHING. THE SMALL INHALES FROM HER CIGARETTE, POORLY LIT HER FACE. THE TARGET'S NAME IS TONI DOOLEN. A WELL SOPHISTICATED LADY, WHO WAS NO LADY. DEATH FOLLOWED IN HER FOOT STEPS AND DARED ANYONE TO GET IN HER WAY. EVEN I WAS NERVOUS ABOUT WATCHING HER.

MY NAME IS DETECTIVE ALAN CLINE. A 27 YEAR VETERAN OF THE PASCO COUNTY SHERIFF'S OFFICE. IN THE DAY, I KNEW WHO WAS ON THE SLIMEY SIDE AND WHO WAS CLEAN, BUT TODAY, THE TRASH WE HIRE, LEAVES ME WITH LITTLE COMFORT. INSTEAD OF MOVING FORWARD WITH TIME, WE SEEM TO BE FALLING BACK TO THE DAY OF MISSING ONE TOOTH DEPUTIES. I WOULD RATHER HIRE SOMEONE STRAIGHT OUT OF PRISON. I'M LIMITED TO WHO I CAN TRUST... AND MS. DOOLEN WAS A ONE PERSON SURVEILLANCE OPERATION. SHE PUT A NEW MEANING INTO "TO HOT TO HANDLE".SHE HAS BEAUTY, CHARM, AND VENOM.

IT STARTED TWO YEARS AGO, WITH AN INTER-AGENCY INVESTIGATION, INVOLVING THE FBI, DEA, INTERPOL, AND VARIOUS OTHER AGENCIES, INCLUDING THE PASCO COUNTY SHERIFF'S OFFICE. A DEEP INVESTIGATION REVEALING MURDER, MONEY LAUNDERING, NARCOTIC AND HUMAN TRAFFICKING,THAT IS WHERE I COME IN.

OVER THE PAST TWO YEARS DOOLEN HAS NOT ONLY MANAGED TO EVADE LAW ENFORCEMENT, BUT WE HAVE MANAGED TO LOOSE OVER 7 AGENTS IN SUPPOSED ACCIDENTAL DEATHS... I CALL THEM LEAKS WITHIN THE AGENCIES.

DOOLEN IS BELIEVED TO BE TIED TO A NEW MAFIA FRACTION IN IRELAND. HER PROTECTION NOT ONLY EXTENDS TO HER 6'8", 300 POUND MONGALOID, WHO IS USUALLY AT HER SIDE, BUT SHE HAS A LOT OF POLITICIANS IN HER POCKETS AS WELL, IT LIKE SHE HAS ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO KNOW ALL OUR MOVES. THAT IS WHY I OPERATE ALONE.

YOU ARE PROBABLY THINKING, IF SHE IS THAT DANGEROUS, WHY DON'T WE JUST TAKE HER OFF THE STREET OR JUST KILL HER? WELL MY FRIEND, I REPRESENT THE LAW. IF I KILL HER, THAT WOULD MAKE ME KNOW BETTER THAN SHE IS. TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS ON THE JOB, I'M NOT READY TO THROW IT ALL AWAY FOR THAT.

A CAR APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH END OF THE BEACH, PULLS INTO THE SOUTH PARKING LOT, A SPOT LIGHT COMES ON, POINTING TOWARD THE BEACH. ITS ONE OF OURS. LAYING PRONE IN A SMALL 8 FOOT BY 5 FOOT DRAINAGE POND, WITH NOTHING BUT A PAIR OF NIGHT VISION BINOCULARS AND A BLUE CAMOFLOUGE UNIFORM ON, TRYING TO STAY OUT OF SITE, BUT OF COURSE ONE OF OUR VERY OWN PATROL CARS HAS TO MAKE HIS PRESENCE KNOWN AND PARK HIS A*S RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PARKING LOT. HE OR SHE DON'T KNOW NO BETTER, BECAUSE I CAN'T AFFORD TO WARN THE UNITS TO STAY OUT OF THE AREA. A DAMNED IF YOU DO AND A DAMNED IF YOU DON'T SITUATION.

ON A NORMAL SURVEILLANCE OPERATION THE PATROL UNITS WOULD BE NOTIFIED TO STAY OUT OF A CERTAIN AREA. THERE WAS NOTHING NORMAL ABOUT THIS ONE. THERE IS ONLY ONE MAN I TRUSTED. MY LONG TIME FRIEND FROM GRADE SCHOOL...SHERIFF ROBERT WRIGHT. WE WENT TO THE ACADEMY TOGETHER AFTER COLLEGE AND WE SERVED TOGETHER IN OPERATION BAYONET WHEN WE GO AFTER NORIEGA IN THE ARMY. THE SHERIFF HAS GIVEN ME PLENTY OF SPACE TO STAY IN DEEP COVER.

WHY THE HELL IS THIS PATROL CAR SITTING HERE? OH JESUS CHRIST, NOW HE'S GOT TO GET OUT AND SMOKE A CIGARETTE. FRICKING ROOKIES. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHICH ONE HE IS. A BOAT IS COMING IN FROM THE CHANNEL. I CAN'T MAKE IT OUT. I CAN SEE THE RED PORT LIGHT ON THE BOAT. I CAN SEE TWO MEN THROUGH THE INFERED BINOCULARS. WATER IS SPLASHING, I CAN'T TELL IF THEY ARE DROPPING SOMETHING IN THE WATER OR IF THEY ARE PICKING UP SOMETHING OUT OF THE WATER.

DAMN IT! SHE IS MOVING AWAY. THIS IS ONE OF THOSE TIME I WISH I HAD ANOTHER SET OF EYES. DECISIONS! STAY WITH THE BOAT OR STAY WITH HER? I HAVE TO LET THE BOAT GO. BUT AGAIN HOW? I GOT A SUSPICIOUS BOAT ON ONE SIDE OF THE WALL AND A ROOKIE WHO WILL STOP ME IF I TRY TO SNEAK AROUND HIM. I'M FRICKIN BLOCKED IN. I AM TO OLD TO BE LOW CRAWLING LIKE I'M IN THE JUNGLES OF PANAMA.

I CAN HEAR HER PORCHE FIRE UP. I HAVE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE. MAKING MY WAY OUT OF THIS COLD STAGNANT WATER ON MY BELLY. HMMMM (SIGH). THERE SHE GOES. WHY IS THIS COP STILL SITTING HERE? FINALLY, AFTER DRAGGING MY FAT A*S ACROSS THE PARKING LOT ON ALL FOURS, WITH THE HELP OF MY BELLY ROLL, I AM AT MY CAR. I CREEP UP THE SIDE OF THE DOOR TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW IT GET IN WITHOUT MAKING THE INTERIOR LIGHT COME ON AND ALERTING THE ROOKIE OF THE YEAR.

SUDDENLY, MR. ROOKIE HOPS IN HIS CAR AND DRIVES AWAY. I GOT IN MY 2008 DODGE CHARGER, WETTING EVERYTHING I TOUCH, INCLUDING MY LEATHER SEATS. A GREEN TREE FROG JUMPS FROM OFF MY CHEST AND ONTO THE DASH. MAYBE I GOT A CHANCE TO CATCH UP WITH HER. I PULL OUT AND DRIVE BEHIND THE MOTEL, TOWARD THE BOAT RAMP ONLY TO FIND MY ROOKIE SITTING AT THE FAR END OF THE BOAT RAMP PARKING LOT. HE MOVED MAYBE 150 YARDS. I KEEP DRIVING, LOOKING OVER AT HIM AS I DRIVE BY, SHAKING MY HEAD. WAITING FOR MY OPPORTUNITY PUSH THE PEDAL DOWN AND CATCH UP WITH MY TARGET.

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