I’M DEAD. Of that, I am certain. Because I’m cold. And I can’t feel my hands nor my feet. And there’s absolutely no sounds. No birds singing. No crickets chirping. No car horns blasting. In fact, no traffic noise at all. And this is Washington, DC!
From the stories I’ve heard told to me by the wounded veterans I routinely visited at the Washington DC Veterans Center Hospital, that’s a tell-tale sign that you’re on your way to checking out of this world; when there’s no sound. All of the front line soldiers who’ve had a near death experience have told me that. And I haven’t heard so much as a whisper for the last few hours or however long it’s been that I’ve been floating face down in this damn river.
And that’s the other reason I know I’m dead. Because there’s no way in hell that I’d be floating face down in this dirty stinking shit hole of a river.
Sorry. And, I beg your pardon for that unfortunate string of four letter words, but I know it’s filthy as sin since I turned down Bill after Bill that would have allocated money for its cleanup. Nobody, who has any common sense, should ever be caught swimming in it, least of all me.
But, truth be told, I probably deserve to be here. I was stupid, with a capital S.
Shot in the back of the head like the dumb fucking animal that she’d made me. I literally never saw it coming. I was stupid. I should have known better. And I did. But she was such a hot piece of foreign ass that I completely let my guard down. She had me wrapped around her foreign fingers. And I was willing to do anything for her. Such as going to that damn condo to retrieve a bundle of cash I’d left there for emergencies. Like the one we were in. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d still be alive. And to think it was me who’d saved her ass from Khamis’ JSOC commandos. The ones who’d killed that bastard husband of hers.
“Where the hell were they, when I needed them?”
If I’d had any inkling that I’d end up like this, floating face down in the Potomac, I would have handed her over to the White House, myself. Gift wrapped with a bow.
But now that I think about it that was probably the last thing that President Stone wanted. Shit!
Eliza D. Ankum
Flight 404 – A Novel of Aviation Disaster
Ruby Sanders (The Ruby and Jared Saga Book 1)
Jared Anderson (The Ruby and Jared Saga Book 2)
Ruby and Jared (The Ruby and Jared saga Book 3)
OneThreeThirteen – A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 1
The Hunt For Red November A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 2
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust – A Second Chance Love Story
Eleanor Grunsback – An Ugly Woman’s Love Story
A Woman’s Voice: A Little Book of Poems
STALKED! By Voices
A Tiny Kitten With A Big Mouth