Cartier watches Michael and Project Sigma

Chapter 1
The two people made a strange sight kneeling on the roof of the hotel in downtown New York. One of them had a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"Michael, we should do this quickly and be gone." Uriel slipped his hands into his black trench coat and awaited Michael's reply. A pistol was holstered on Uriel's hip, along with a shotgun concealed his coat. Both men were tall and powerful looking. Michael muttered, "Hold on, I have him in my sights."
Michael spat out his cigarette and adjusted his scope on the rifle. The rifle was sleek and black, a fearsome weapon for a fearsome man. Michael laughed and spoke quietly to his companion. "I wish Raphael was here to witness my best take down yet. He did a great job on Project Omega, didn't he Uriel?" Michael loaded a bullet into his rifle and put his finger on the trigger. He squinted into the scope and slowed his breathing down. Uriel patiently waited for his friend to take the shot. Michael aimed at the intended target and pulled the trigger. A loud crack filled the air as the rifle went off.
Michael and Uriel jumped off the hotel roof and landed quietly onto the silent road. Both men started to run, their trench coats flapping after them. Michael's victim was lying on the sidewalk,juicy couture, a gaping hole in his left leg. The man was possibly in his late thirties or early forties. Michael put his boot on his chest and stared angrily down at him. "You ########ing low life. You disgrace our Father and his followers."
Uriel pulled out his pistol and handed it to Michael. Michael dug his boot into the man's chest and the man cried out in pain. Michael placed the pistol on the man's head and said a single sentence. "Pray, you mother ########er." The bullet penetrated the man's head and blew his skull open. Blood exploded from the dead man's head and covered the sidewalk. Michael handed his pistol back to Uriel and dismantled his rifle. Both walked off into the night, leaving the dead man.
Meaning to put the salad back in the fridge, detective Sharon Vasquez smacked her head as the salad ended up in the garbage. She sighed, resigning to bed. Her weariness was starting to affect her mind. The phone pierced the kitchen and she ran to answer it. "We need you pronto, get your ass over here right now." Sharon knew her line of work involved strange hours. She grabbed her coat,Cartier watches, badge and cell phone.
Sharon arrived at the crime scene. The coroner approached her and said,tiffany schmuck, "Have fun. It's a bloody mess. Seriously." He pulled up the yellow police tape and let Sharon enter. The Boston Police were all over the sidewalk, blocking news reporters and curious onlookers. Sharon ran over to her Captain's car and asked what happened.
The captain looked at Sharon and immediately handed her white latex gloves. She put them on and hurried over next to the crime scene photographer. Sharon started dusting the area for any evidence,mac makeup, but the blood all over the sidewalk made it difficult. She discovered nothing of importance or anything that could trace the murderer. She groaned, knowing this might be a difficult case to solve soon.
Back at the lab, Dr. William Vasquez examined the corpse. His wife Sharon had pleaded for him to exam it because he was an expertise at bodies. A surgeon at the Massachusetts General Hospital, he was well trained to examine bodies,cheap jordan, no matter how beat up they were. He had to agree though,manolo blahnik cheap, this was one brutal killing.
"Sharon, hon. You said there were no bullets? The leg was shot and than the head later. There has to be a bullet somewhere. Maybe your team missed it when they combed the area." Sharon knew it was ridiculous that her team would miss any evidence blatantly there. She didn't say anything though and thanked her husband for helping her.
It was strange. The Boston Police Crime Scene Investigators could find nothing. No footprints in the mud next to the sidewalk, no bullets, no other forensic evidence was there! Sharon slumped at her desk at peered out her window. It was close to 3 am when she jumped. Her cell phones rang and woke her from her doze. She answered, "Vasquez here. What? ! I'll be right there."
Her captain had called and relayed information to her that they had found it wasn't evidence that made any sense.
Sharon arrived at headquarters and knocked on the captain's door. "Come in! Vasquez, you're not going to believe this." Sitting on the captain's desk was a monitor and a VCR. The busy whir of a tape rewinding accompanied the noise of hushed tones.. Several of the other Boston CSI officers were gathered in the office. Each face was blank and amazed
"What the hell is so damn important?" Sharon fixed her eyes on the monitor as the captain pressed the play button. What she saw on the tape scared her. It scared her so much that she closed her eyes and swallowed heavily several times.
The tape showed the murdered man walking down the sidewalk. A crack suddenly broke the silence and the man fell to the ground clutching his left calf. A few minutes passed before the thing that scared Sharon happened. The man was slammed down onto the ground, staring at something. He was struggling with someone, but there was no body there! A second later, his head slammed down against the sidewalk and blood flowed freely out of it.
Sharon blinked in disbelief. The tape was so clear and accurate. The man was obviously a victim of homicide. was no one with him when he died. It was just him. He didn't shoot himself, so who did?Topics related articles：


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