|Dead Men Tell No Tales (standard:fantasy, 2405 words)|
|Author: The Hoss Man||Added: Sep 15 2000||Views/Reads: 3095/1508||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|An important witness is dead... or is he?|
"Oh, Shit." "What." "He's dead!" "What?!" "He ... Is ... Dead!" ... "...Shit!" * * * Senator Fink was not happy. First of all: it was winter, it was New York, and it was cold. Second of all: he did not enjoy being woken up at 3:14 in the morning. Third: he especially didn't enjoy being woken up at 3:14 in the morning by a phone call informing him that a crucial witness slated to appear before the Senate was found dead in his hotel room, while 2 FBI agents were playing cards in the next room. The limo turned onto Park Avenue, slowing as it approached the Regency, and pulled up to the curb. The Senator could see his aide Wesley Hussey standing on the curb, looking anal-retentive as usual. Senator Fink begrudgingly rolled the window half way down. "Good Morning Senator." "Fuck you Hussey. It's not morning, it's 3:58, and it is most definitely not 'good'. My Balls are freezing and my bread winner is dead. What the hell happened?" "We aren't exactly certain sir. The truth is ... well, there's a little confusion as to, uhhh ..." "Spit it out Hussey!" "He doesn't appear to be dead sir. The FBI agents went in to check on Mr. Gettman around 3, and they thought he seemed 'extra quiet', so they checked his pulse and couldn't find one. That's when they called Dr. Osborn and myself. When the doctor arrived he pronounced Gettman legally dead, and the agents sealed the room. That's when we called you --" "So he is dead!" "Not exactly Sir. The problem is that about 20 minutes ago, Gettman came out of his room to go to get something to drink. Needless to say the FBI agents and Dr. Osborn were a little unsettled to see him... well, alive. Sir." "So he's Alive!?" "Well... we're not sure of that either Sir. The doctor immediately started examining him to determine what was going on, and as far as he could tell Gettman IS dead. He still has no pulse, he isn't breathing, not even while he was sitting there having a conversation with the doctor -- " "Are you dicking with me Hussey? I can't believe you expect me to buy this Shit! What are you trying to pull?" "Please sir, we should go to the NYU Med-Center; that's where Dr. Osborn took Gettman to run some tests --" "Well why didn't you say so you little shit, get in the car. And shut the God damn window, it's fucking freezing in this city." * * * "Damned if I understand it, Senator." Dr Osborn was not the most competent physician in Manhattan, but he had connections, he was discrete, and (in theory) he was a Medical Doctor -- perfect for government work. "I've had Mr. Gettman hooked up to every type of Click here to read the rest of this story (200 more lines)
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