The Witness
The dark sedan pulled quietly up outside a comfortable family home in
Quarter Close. The brick residence stood silent and dark in the early hours
of the morning, looking much like the rest of the houses in the Grove.
However, inside this house lay the prosecutionÕs sole witness in the most
important case in the history of the state. Without him, the trial could not
go to court. His life was in danger.
Joel Granger stepped from of the car with two colleagues and the three men
made their way slowly and quietly to the boyÕs bedroom window. Joel stood
watch with his pistol at the ready. The FBI didnÕt normally do this sort of
thing, but in this case there was no other choice. His colleagues quickly
snatched the sleeping boy from his bed, covering his mouth, and threw him
into the waiting car. Joel stepped into the driverÕs seat and eased the car
off down the road.
The boy, Adam Martins had witnessed what was turning out to be the most
important case in the stateÕs history, and after the FBI had uncovered the
Mafia link they were left with no choice but to take Adam into safety. They
presumed that the Mafia was watching every move made by Adam and his family,
and the FBI couldnÕt risk telling the boyÕs mother or any other family
members. Adam sat in the backseat, squeezed between two agents. He was
confused, still half asleep and luckily, very quiet.
The dark car turned off the freeway and drove carefully down what seemed an
unused dirt track. They were taking Adam to an FBI safehouse, to reduce th
risk of being found. safe. As the car turned a corner and picked up speed,
the shot was fired. A gunshot rang out through the trees. Joel looked in the
back. The agent on the left side was leaning on Adam, and the other agent
was frantically trying to move the body. Joel had no idea what to do, but he
knew that he couldnÕt take Adam to the safehouse. He suddenly stepped on the
brakes and spun the wheel. The car turned a full 180 degrees and Joel
stepped back on the accelerator. The car raced past the spot where the first
shot was fired, hitting the second agent in the face, instantly killing him.
Once back on the freeway, Joel picked up his mobile phone and rang his boss.
"WeÕve got a leak." Joel spat out quickly, "We got shot at. The other agents
are dead, but the kidÕs still alive. IÕve got to get him somewhere fast."
"OK, OK. Where are you taking him?" the boss asked.
"I donÕt want to say. Your phone could be bugged. Ring me back from a
pay-phone." And Joel promptly hung up.
The car turned slowly off the freeway again and made its way quietly down a
suburban street. Joel parked outside an old weather board house and carried
Adam around the back. He forced open an old wooden door and carried Adam
down the stairs to the basement. His mobile rang.
     "Joel. That you?" It was the boss.
     "Yep. IÕve got the kid and IÕm at my parentÕs house."
     "What! ItÕs not safe!" The boss said angrily. He trusted Joel, but Adam
     was a very important witness.
"DonÕt worry. IÕm in the basement. They donÕt even know IÕm here." Joel was
calm now and had time to think.
"OK, but keep it that way." The boss said reluctantly. "We need the kid. No
witness, no trial, you know the story.... Look, Joel. Get some sleep and
IÕll come down tomorrow in person."
Sunlight shone through the vents along the east wall as Joel woke to answer
the door. He was still dressed, but had been sleeping and was not fully
alert. He opened the door and yawned. Before he had even closed his mouth,
the assassin shot the silenced pistol, putting a neat hole through JoelÕs
head. The assassin then stepped over the body and made his way to Adam, who
was sleeping on the couch. He pulled a piece of nylon rope from his pocket
and completed his mission. He then left the basement room as quietly as he
had arrived. No witness, no trial.
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