Clone Diamonds ( Part 10)

This story gets funner and funner to write. I was almost planning to end it on this story. It didn't happen there is just too much to explain. This blogbattlers monthly prompt is clone. Not a good word for me, but I made it work.

Want more? Or forgot? Catch up!

Part 1 Flowers Have Mysteries 
Part 2 Loss and Madness 
Part 3 Mayhem at Dusk
Part 4 It Happened on the Night Shift
Part 5 Airtight Solutions
Part 6 Stamped Corona 
Part 7 A Stable Connection
Part 8 Intercepted
Part 9 A Shield of Smoke

Clone Diamonds 

By Rakalyle Hier 

Words 1087

Lane looked wide eyed at Heinz . “Out of bullets?”

“And time.”

Another blast of gunfire echoed from below and pulverized the side of Heinz’s flat. Mrs. Hardy was not going to be pleased. 

“What are we going to do?” Lane shouted over the noise. 

Wailing police sirens sounded in the distance. 

“We are going to move,” Heinz said. He slid across the floor and away from the windows. Swiftly he grabbed his net, and shouted to the boys. “Get out of the bathroom, we are leaving.”

They slipped out going low like Heinz. They grabbed a few glass bottles from the table. Heinz directed them to his bedroom. “Lane come on.” 

Lane crawled away from the pelted windows noticing that the sirens were getting closer. The police would take care of the gangsters. Once he was in Heinz’s room Lane shut the door and the detective opened a window and threw his net out. “Not another window,” Lane grumbled under his breath. 

“Alright onto the fire escape.” 

Lane sighed in relief. The boys slipped out onto the medal ladder. Everyone quickly left the flat and were soon on the ground. Gunfire echoed off around the corner and sirens blared. 

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time.”

Heinz hailed a taxicab and they all got in. “Diver, straight to the Gala.” 

The cab hurried through the streets. As it rushed by houses and other cars and cabs, Lane couldn’t help wonder about the mystery he and Heinz had stumbled upon. It started out with Hank Wilson, now it was much deeper, Lane wasn't sure what would come of it all.

“Drive around back,” Heinz told the driver. 

Lane opened his mouth to say something, but they were already stopping. The two boys got out, Heinz followed. “Okay, you know what to do, get to it, and don’t get caught.” Sam and Lester, both holding glass jars with purple liquid, nodded. 

Heinz turned to his assistant. “Aren’t you coming?” With that he strolled off. Lane had no choice but to follow him, while the boys took off in the other direction. 

The Gala loomed over them, casting a long shadow across the alley. The sun was sinking low in the sky. It was not long before the party at the Gala, would be starting. Lane had a feeling the evening wasn’t going to go as planned. He wasn't sure if he was going crazy or if something was starting to fit together. He just hoped he wouldn’t be in pieces by the end of the night. 

Heinz came to a side door; pushing it open, they found themselves in the kitchen.  Apron clad ladies and chiefs bustled about, food was being cooked and prepared. The detective and his assistant slipped by them. Once they had left the room. Heinz stopped. “Here Lane, take this.” He handed him a pistol. “You might need it later.” 

Lane took the pistol dreading Heinz’s plan. But he didn’t have much time to think about it. Heinz was on the move again. They soon were up stairs; a few turns lead them to the rafters. “What is this about, Heinz?” Lane asked in frustration. 

“All in good time. Wait here.” 

The detective left him, giving Lane no time to argue. Lane waited. And waited. When he heard music start up below he began to get edgy. He was surprised he could hear it so well from up here. Lane got closer to the middle and found small holes in the flooring, which was really the ceiling for the Gala. He looked through one of them and found himself looking down at the party. A chandelier was right below the hole. 

He noticed many police officers and other finely dressed ladies and gentlemen. He also spied the tables of food… and something else. Was it?… yes, jewels. No longer in crates but in glass vases out for display. Wait there was Sam and Lester. What were they doing? 

A hand on his shoulder startled him. “Ah.” 

“Grand party? Yes?”  Heinz smiled behind his mustache. 

“Where have you been?”

“Up to no good, for sure. But no, let us watch.”

Heinz and Lane filled their view with the sight below. Couples dancing; the orchestra playing. Lane spotted Chief Carmouthe. Heinz pointed. “Look who is just arriving.”

Lane looked over to the doors. Clay Emerson had just stepped into the room. He was now in a fancy brown suit, his hair slicked down, carrying a cane. He looked around before walking into the midst of people. 

Lane felt tense and he gripped the gun without realizing it. His eyes drifted to Heinz. The detective was looking at something else now. Lane followed his gaze. Strangely enough Sam and Lester were pouring the purple goo into the vases with the diamonds. Lane opened his mouth then closed it again. No way could Heinz explain this. 

The music quilted down and Lane looked to see the Chief of Police standing on a platform. “Ladies and gentlemen and officers, tonight is a special night...” Lane’s attention diverted. Clay was making his way to the back of the crowd. What was he doing?

“It’s time to move Lane, Clay will soon be noticing the problem and we want to catch him.” 

Heinz didn’t let Lane see his worried features, things could go in any direction now. He just hoped the plan would work.

-------

Sam and Lester finished pouring the purple stuff into the glass vases full of identical, clone like diamonds and quickly hid from view. Sam noticed a guy in a brown suit who was familiar to him. 

Sam tapped Lester’s arm. “Look it’s the guy I saw with Hank Wilson.”

“I see him. Come on; we're going to follow him.” 

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Heinz and Lane made their way down from the rafters. Lane gripped the gun in his coat pocket. At the bottom of the steps Heinz turned to him. “Stay here, and stop anyone who tries to get past you.” 

“Anyone?” 

“Anyone.” With that Heinz left him.

Lane shook his head, he wasn’t going to stand there. He was tired of listening to Heinz. Lane looked both ways and went toward the kitchen. He stepped into the kitchen just in time to see two men in black and another fellow come in.

Lane swiftly stepped back behind a stack of barrels. They passed, without seeing him, making their way to the party. Lane had a bad feeling about those three. Not listening to the detective might have been a bad idea.

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Who just walked through the door?
What will Lane do? Will the bad guys succeed? Or will Heinz stop them?
Tell me what you think!

A Shield of Smoke (part 9)

Here we are, already on part 9. This blogbattlers monthly prompt is Shield.

The title is kind of a play of the words in the story, but I hope it makes some sense.

If you missed out on the other parts:

Part 1 Flowers Have Mysteries 
Part 2 Loss and Madness 
Part 3 Mayhem at Dusk
Part 4 It Happened on the Night Shift
Part 5 Airtight Solutions
Part 6 Stamped Corona 
Part 7 A Stable Connection
Part 8 Intercepted

A Shield of Smoke 

 Lane

By Rakayle Hier 

Words 1028

Heinz slipped out of his bonds for the second time, this time he turned to untie my ropes. I rubbed my sore wrists and got up off the floor. Heinz made his way to the door that led out of the room. He peeked through the crack in the ajar door. I didn’t breath afraid we would be heard.  

“We got a guard.” He informed as he came back over. “We better find a weapon.” I started looking around for a weapon. Heinz pulled down the net that was hanging from the ceiling. I decided not to ask what he was doing. 

I looked around and behind the storage part of the room before I spied something big, mettle like. I went to reach for it. I grabbed the item and pulled it out. It was an old shield. It would work as a weapon. 

“I got something,” I told the detective. 

“Good, lets go.”

Heinz with his net and I with my shield made our way to the door. Our way out. Heinz peeked through the door crack. “He’s got his back turned.”  

I nodded. Thinking quickly I pulled open the door and slammed the shield into the guards head. Thunk. He fell to the ground, out cold. Heinz raised his eyes at me. “Well, that’s one way to do it.” 

I shrugged. “What’s the net for?” 

“I’ll explain later. Let’s tie him up and get out of here.”

We quickly tied up the big man, worrying that someone might have heard the thunk and come back. Finishing the job, Heinz picked up the Tommy Gun. “Don’t want to leave this.”

Heinz looked out the next door to see if the room was clear. He nodded to me and we swiftly left the room. We crossed in front of the red opera seats making our way to the side room Heinz had found earlier. 

I’m sure I held my breath the whole way. I took in a breath as we exited the building, still holding the shield. I felt like it might come in handy. Also I didn’t have time to put it down. 

We were now in the alleyway behind the main buildings. Heinz marched onward. Whatever his mission was, it was urgent and I didn’t complain about the pace. I was glad to get as far away as possible from the opera house. 

We headed toward Heinz’s apartment. We were a block away when the two boys I met the other night came running up. It was Sam and Lester. 

“Heinz, Heinz.” 

“What is it boys?”

“We got news. Hank Wilson is working with gangsters,” Sam spoke quickly. 

“He is planning something big tonight,” Lester added.

Heinz smiled. “Yes, I know. And I’m going to need your help.” 

The four of us continued to the flat. How come I was the only one who had no clue on what was going on? I thought as I hauled the shield with me up the stairs and into the Heinz’s apartment. 

Heinz set to work at his table and the two boys were right there to help him. I sat down on the sofa that I had spent the night on and pondered. It had something to do with those jewels, and some plan, and the opera house, oh yeah, and Hank Wilson. What else was I missing? Somehow Heinz fit it together like a puzzle while I couldn't even see the puzzle pieces. 

I looked at the detective's wall, again noticing the strange way the pictures were placed. I shook my head, no I didn’t see a sensible explanation. I glanced over at Heinz; he had taken the net with him along with the gun. Why he wanted the net? I didn’t have the slightest idea. 

Maybe it was a part of his plan, course everything seemed to be apart of his plan. 

Explaining this to the chief, that was what I should be worried about. At the Gala tonight… Wait the Gala... the whole police force was going to be there. It was the 20th anniversary of the police station. I wonder… 

Before I could finish my thought something crashed through one of the windows and landed on the floor; a small metal object. It hissed. “Heinz it’s a tear gas grenade!” 

“Get out of the room, quick,” He commanded.

I, Sam, and Lester hurried into the bathroom. Shutting the door I noticed Heinz wasn’t with us. “What is he doing? He is going to get himself killed.” I pushed open the door ignoring the protesting boys. I found myself coughing in a whirl of white smoke. It stung my eyes and made my throat burn. A string of gunfire sounded and I went low, crashing into a few books on the floor. 

I had to get to a window. I needed fresh air. Somewhere in all that smoke I came upon the shield, not thinking clearly, I grabbed it and drug it with me. Suddenly the smoke started clearing. I coughed violently and found myself close to the windows, which were all opened. I sucked in a few breaths of air before I realized that there was someone shooting at the apartment. I ducked below the window as a putter of bullets came ripping into the windows and wood. 

“Heinz,” I yelled, “where are you?”

A clatter of Thompson gunfire responded. I tried to clear my stinging eyes. Heinz was across the room with the borrowed Tommy gun pointed out the window, returning bullet fire.  The smoke was finally clearing, revealing half the room. 

I turned my attention back to the street below. It was that crony I hit over the head; with some back up. I didn't see Clay Emerson among them, but it was a little hard to tell, they all wore black suits and were hiding behind their cars, shooting at us.  

“Heinz, this has got to be a distraction. They know you are onto them.” 

The detective looked over at me. “For once Lane, I think your right.” 

“You go. I can keep them busy.” 

He looked ready to argue with me, but then nodded. “Alright Lane, but we have a problem I’m out of bullets.” 

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What do you think they are going to do?
Will they stop the bad guys before it is too late?
Tell me below!

Intercepted (part 8)

Here we are with part 8 and things are getting deep. The word for the month is Intercept again from blogbattlers...

It you have not read the other parts here you are:

Part 1 Flowers Have Mysteries 
Part 2 Loss and Madness 
Part 3 Mayhem at Dusk
Part 4 It Happened on the Night Shift
Part 5 Airtight Solutions
Part 6 Stamped Corona 
Part 7 A Stable Connection

Intercepted 

By Rakayle Hier 

Words 980

Yes, it was funny how a small piece of paper and a few boxes could bring everything to light. Yet, like the light of the sun, there were always a few shadows. And those shadows had a way of moving. Staying out of reach. 

Heinz pointed out a few wooden boxes. Some were opened and on their side they had a stamp that read: THE SOUTH CROWN. CORONA ASTURIAS.

“Those boxes.”

“What is so significant about them?”

“They, my friend, were on a very secret delivery. Now they are here. But look closer, what is inside?”

Lane moved closer very intrigued. “Jewels.” He ran his hand in the pile of jewelry. “But they are fake.”

“Are they?”

“Well, yes, I think so.”

Heinz nodded. “Your right but, why are they fake?”

“This is an opera house, they perform.”

“It is, or that is to say, it was.”

“What?” 

“Sorry, Lane I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Heinz went over to another box and took the top off. He found more jewels inside, fake looking like the others. The box had a paper on top of it. It was a list of names, one stuck out. Hank Wilson. 

Yes, things were coming together, yet there were a few things that didn’t fit in right. 

“Heinz,” Lane whispered. Bringing the detective out of his thoughts. “I think Jock and MacClimons are leaving.” 

“I suppose we should leave as well.”

Lane didn’t reply, but his agreement was evident on his face. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t get in a hurry, you're obviously enjoying yourself. Besides, you haven’t seen the show yet.” 

Heinz and Lane turned to the doorway to see the man in the house coat standing there. His eyes were fierce and his stance tense. 

Heinz went to reach inside his jacket. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man in the house coat remarked.

A thick man in a dark suit stepped out from behind another door. A Tommy Gun in his grasp. 

Heinz slowly brought his hand away from his jacket pocket, while Lane raised his hands. 

“I assume your Detective Heinz.”

Heinz twitched his mustache. “Yes, and what, may I ask is your reason for intercepting us?”  

He chuckled to himself. “You should know by now, or is this one of your games? No don’t answer that. I have something special in store for you, later. I’m sure Hank Wilson will be quite pleased.” 

Heinz’s thoughts buzzed. He knew they were in a lot of trouble, but he hoped this gangster would give him enough time to put things together. 

Lane stepped back as the gangster with the Tommy Gun stepped forward. “Move.”

They were lead out of the room they were in and into the room the big Tommy Gun bearer had come out of. It was quite hidden away. If one didn’t look close enough, one would miss it. 

Heinz went in first followed by Lane. The first thing Heinz saw as he came into the room was a large fishing net that was hanging low off the ceiling. The room was drastically different from the rest of the opera. There was no dust, nothing was out of place, and a complete set of maps lined a wall, while necessary equipment was stacked against another wall. 

Though the detective and his assistant had been intercepted, Heinz now knew more than ever before. There was one thing that was still troubling him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

There was the jewels, fake yes, but they somehow played a very important role in it all. 

Yes, just like flowers everything can contain a mystery or you could say an answer. 

The man in the house coat was last to come in the room. He retrieved the pistol from the detective’s front pocket and told the other man to tie them up. 

They were made to sit and the gangster tied them in ropes. As the two made their way to leave Heinz spoke, “I never got your name.”

The man in the house coat looked at him as if he was trying to decide if the detective had something up his sleeve. He decided to humor Heinz.

“Clay, Clay Emerson.”

The two left the room, leaving them tied and silent. Heinz tried to place the name, but it wasn’t familiar. After a while he asked Lane, “Have you ever heard of a Clay Emerson?”

Lane thought for a while. “Not that I can think of. Who do you think he is?”

“I don’t know. Someone up to no good.” 

“How are we going to get out of here, Heinz?” 

Heinz sighed and pulled himself loose from his bonds. “It’s the perfect truth that if one must get caught one must get away, but what if one does not want to get away?”

“What, what, how did you do that?” 

 “Simple, create tension when someone is tying you up, and you will have a better chance of getting loose.”

“Well let’s get out of here then, untie me.”

“Yes, well I can’t do that, you see I’m bound to find more answers in their clutches, so it is you see impossible.”

Heinz put his hands back into the ropes. All Lane could do was stare dumbly. Why did he ever agree to come along. Lane had a bad taste in his mouth. And it wasn’t from the thought, there was actually some kind of foul taste in his mouth. 

“Heinz what is that?” Lane moved his tongue around trying to get it off.

“I taste it too, it’s some kind of wax.” 

“Where is it coming from?” 

Heinz was quiet for a while. “Wait I know, it’s from the jewels. Lane I know what they are up to! We’re going to have to intercept their plans and soon before someone gets hurt.”

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Tell me below!