The Usual Suspects, chapter 1
Last Night San Pedro, California
Mike lit a cigarette with his matches but could barely inhale it. He threw the still lit match on the oil that had been spilled and watched it ignite from his spot against the rail of the boat. Another sharp pain hit him in the back where he had been shot. Some water came down from the second floor of the yacht stopping the fire in its tracks. Mike looked up and saw someone in a black trench coat and hat come down the stairs. When the man got closer Mike could see his face. It all made sense to him now. "It figures." Mike said weakly to the man.
"Yeah." The man agreed.
Mike knew it was all over. "What time is it?" He asked trying to stall.
The man in black glanced at his watch. "12:30"
Then he raised his gun and fired it twice at the late Mike Dirnt. As soon as the man was sure he was dead he turned and walked toward the exit on his way dropping his cigarette in the oil to finish off what ever was left of the boat. He quickly climbed down the ladder and walked off without a trace. Not caring that he just slaughtered everyone on the yacht.
Present Day San Pedro, California
"Hey, down there! Any survivors?" The FBI agent asked a police officer who was by to bodies under sheets.
"I don't know ask the chief!"
Agent Smith turned and shook his head. "If I can find him." He muttered.
"Hey you looking for me?" The chief asked.
"Yeah any survivors?" "Uh yeah, a Hungarian who was burned bad and pulled out of a drain pipe this morning, he's in a coma though."
"And the other one?"
"He's a rock star from Oakland. You'll never believe his story"
"Try me."
"Well his name is Billie Joe Armstrong. He had a punk band, you know a perfect life. But what nobody knows is that they had a criminal life." The chief shook his head. "He was the only survivor last night, but get this he has total immunity, we can't touch him." Smith left without another word to see about the Hungarian in a coma in the rock star.
Los Angeles, California
Police Station
"Come on, I came a long way for this!"
"Look Mr. Armstrong has total immunity; even if we could get him here he wouldn't talk to you."
"I just want to talk to him, ask him a few questions I want to know what went on last night." "
Sorry Jack the answer is no."
"Doesn't it bother you that an entire yacht was burned down and everyone except two people died? And the arsonist/murderer got away with it and we don't even know where the hell he is!"
"Okay fine I'll talk to Armstrong see if he'll come down for a while. Thank you."
Los Angeles, California
Emergency Room
"He's awake?"
"Yes Mr. Smith and he's talking but just barely."
"Can I see him?"
"Sure but you have to put on some gloves and a mask to keep germs from harming him. 90% of his body was burned."
Smith and the doctor walked in the room. The Hungarian man was covered in bandages and his eyes just barely open. "Does he speak English?"
"No, sorry."
"Get a translator now!" Suddenly the burned man started speaking in Hungarian. The only worlds he could understand were: Kaiser So-Say, striking terror in Agent Smith.
Mike lit a cigarette with his matches but could barely inhale it. He threw the still lit match on the oil that had been spilled and watched it ignite from his spot against the rail of the boat. Another sharp pain hit him in the back where he had been shot. Some water came down from the second floor of the yacht stopping the fire in its tracks. Mike looked up and saw someone in a black trench coat and hat come down the stairs. When the man got closer Mike could see his face. It all made sense to him now. "It figures." Mike said weakly to the man.
"Yeah." The man agreed.
Mike knew it was all over. "What time is it?" He asked trying to stall.
The man in black glanced at his watch. "12:30"
Then he raised his gun and fired it twice at the late Mike Dirnt. As soon as the man was sure he was dead he turned and walked toward the exit on his way dropping his cigarette in the oil to finish off what ever was left of the boat. He quickly climbed down the ladder and walked off without a trace. Not caring that he just slaughtered everyone on the yacht.
Present Day San Pedro, California
"Hey, down there! Any survivors?" The FBI agent asked a police officer who was by to bodies under sheets.
"I don't know ask the chief!"
Agent Smith turned and shook his head. "If I can find him." He muttered.
"Hey you looking for me?" The chief asked.
"Yeah any survivors?" "Uh yeah, a Hungarian who was burned bad and pulled out of a drain pipe this morning, he's in a coma though."
"And the other one?"
"He's a rock star from Oakland. You'll never believe his story"
"Try me."
"Well his name is Billie Joe Armstrong. He had a punk band, you know a perfect life. But what nobody knows is that they had a criminal life." The chief shook his head. "He was the only survivor last night, but get this he has total immunity, we can't touch him." Smith left without another word to see about the Hungarian in a coma in the rock star.
Los Angeles, California
Police Station
"Come on, I came a long way for this!"
"Look Mr. Armstrong has total immunity; even if we could get him here he wouldn't talk to you."
"I just want to talk to him, ask him a few questions I want to know what went on last night." "
Sorry Jack the answer is no."
"Doesn't it bother you that an entire yacht was burned down and everyone except two people died? And the arsonist/murderer got away with it and we don't even know where the hell he is!"
"Okay fine I'll talk to Armstrong see if he'll come down for a while. Thank you."
Los Angeles, California
Emergency Room
"He's awake?"
"Yes Mr. Smith and he's talking but just barely."
"Can I see him?"
"Sure but you have to put on some gloves and a mask to keep germs from harming him. 90% of his body was burned."
Smith and the doctor walked in the room. The Hungarian man was covered in bandages and his eyes just barely open. "Does he speak English?"
"No, sorry."
"Get a translator now!" Suddenly the burned man started speaking in Hungarian. The only worlds he could understand were: Kaiser So-Say, striking terror in Agent Smith.
