It doesn't get any brighter than days in New York City. A land so bustling with life, culture, and of course, food.
As the birds fly above the buildings skylines and the silk seas was ashore on the docks, there is a car driving down the road.
A limousine to be exact. Two men sat in the car, along with the driver.
One man, Jordan Woods is at the moment having a talk with a business associate of his, Ross Goodwin.
He is the chief officer of the New York City Police Department and runs several other divisions, those e in question, which are in need of funding.
Ross pulled out a cigarette and began to light it. Jordan stopped Ross, proclaiming, "We don't smoke here."
He gave the man a stern look which sent shivers down Ross's spine. The driver, Alistair, chuckled in the front, of the car. His eyes glanced over to the radio on the dashboard.
Ross replied to Jordan, "I-I was just testing ya." Jordan scoffed and poured himself a glass of champagne from the drawer next to him.
"So about that funding?" Ross asked Jordan. He looked eager to find out Jordan's answer. Before he could though, a ring from his phone interrupted the two. Once Jordan took a look at the collar ID, a smile formed.
Putting his finger up, Jordan said, "One moment please."
Ross shuffled his feet together and obliged to his conversation.
On the phone, Jordan could make out a couple of men running back and forth.
One voice shouts, "ALL RIGHT YOU WORTHLESS MEAT SACKS! KEEP IT GOING! NO BACKTRACKING!"
The sound of jets soaring overhead, many trucks passing by, and the constant rounds of jogging all to emulate the area of a military base.
Immediately Jordan chuckled. He listened to the voice some more and could tell it was an old friend of his.
The voice picked up on the cell, sounding exhausted. "Marcus, is that you?" Jordan asked him on the phone.
After a few minutes of shouting a man answers. "JORDAN!!!! What's up buddy?!" he exclaimed.
Jordan smirked, responded, "It's good to hear from you man, how long has it been?"
Marcus chuckled over the phone as he walked past some other soldiers training.
Along the street enters a white limousine driving downtown to an exotic hotel.
"Jordan, we are coming up on the Liberty Resort and Spa in about 5 minutes," the driver said.
"Hey, Marcus, I haven't heard from you in a while," Jordan said on the phone.
A couple of laughs could be picked up in the background as Jordan talks to his friend Marcus.
"Yeah, man, it's been a while, what's it been like two-three years?" Marcus asked Jordan.
He thought about it for a minute, his finger on his mouth, thinking.
Jordan's eyes drifted over to a waiting Ross in the corner.
He then tapped a few buttons on a touchpad near his seat. Alistair got the message and changed course.
Within a few minutes, the car arrived at the precinct.
Ross exited the car, topping off his hat to Jordan and Alistair.
YOU ARE READING
Realm of Realms
FantasyJordan Wolf's life was never ordinary; from the moment he was born, his parents couldn't get along, resulting in a divorce. With his father's decision to become a mafia boss, he could attend the college of his choice. Jordan could have chosen a lif...
