Detective John Smith

Chapter 3

With Chad dead, I should feel relieved the case is closed. But his last taunting words claw at me - there's more to this whole operation beneath the surface.

I had Chad's cold, lifeless body dragged to the morgue for autopsy. What I learned chilled me to the bone: hidden in his teeth were cyanide capsules. Who has that kind of firepower?

I needed answers, so I paid a visit to Chad's known associates still behind bars. After some "convincing," one finally folded - turns out Chad reported to an infamous crime syndicate with deep roots and a cruel kingpin.

If this boss was really tying up loose ends, my life was very much in danger too. I went off grid for protection as I gathered intel on this shadowy criminal organization.

My search led me to their front - a seedy downtown "gentlemen's club." At midnight, I infiltrated from the roof access and concealed myself, waiting to make contact...

Just then, two armed guards strode in, deep in sinister discussion. It seems this syndicate's next big move is about to go down. And I'm gonna stop it before they know I'm here...

I listened carefully to the guards' chatter, learning the syndicate's next shipment is arriving at the docks tonight. This could be my chance to finally take down their boss.

Under cover of darkness, I made my way down to the waterfront, finding a good sniper position overlooking the rendezvous point. Through my scope, I saw a large boat pull alongside a truck idling on the pier.

Bags were being loaded aboard when suddenly, automatic gunfire erupted. Rival gang members spilled out of the shadows, opening fire on the syndicate crews in a bid to hijack the shipment.

I took aim to pick off a triggerman when - CRAP! My rifle jammed at the worst moment. As the gun battle raged below, I scrambled to clear the weapon.

That's when I heard the unmistakable click of a revolver cocked behind my head. A deep voice chuckled, "Well, well...look what we have here, boys."

I was grabbed and dragged toward a dark van, my fight just becoming a far more personal war for survival against the city's most sinister opponent yet...

As the van doors slam shut with me inside, I stare down the barrels of three guns wielded by the syndicate's heavies. Their masked leader steps into the dim light.

"Detective Smith, we meet at last. Can't say I'm surprised to find you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." His cold eyes bore into mine.

I maintain a steely glare. "Wish I could say the same, but I don't know who you are under that ski mask."

A mirthless laugh. "Oh you will...before I'm done with you."

The van jolts into motion. Wherever they're taking me, no one will hear my screams. I'll have to escape on my own or die trying.

As we drive deeper into warehouse District, my chance comes when we hit a nasty pothole. I launch myself at Masked Man, grabbing for the gun.

A deafening blast echoes in the close quarters as we wrestle violently. When the smoke clears, Masked Man's head lolls limply in my grip...but the barrel is pressed against my temple by one of his men.

The syndicate bosses have come right to me. This could be the end... or has my luck finally changed?

As the syndicate enforcer presses the gun to my head, I know this is it unless I think fast. With Masked Man dead in my lap, his identity is still a mystery.

I lock eyes with my captor, sneering "You really wanna be the one to pull that trigger? Boss man won't like findin' out you offed his guest before the party."