C.: Hey ,d.c. I couldn’t open the link you sent me yesterday.
d.: I’m sorry, Cal.E. However, T. Puppy has been sent to the instructional league in Cut’N’Shoot. She’s be playing for the Dut’N’Shoot Colts this Spring. I need to get her bags packed, so could you proofread something for me, please?
C.: Sure, just tell me what it is.
d.: It’s the PREFACE to the Magruder Mysteries. I put this in the first manuscript. Putting this in the beginning of MURDER 8 should help explain what the whole series of five books is about. Proofread it for me, please. Then tell me what you think after is was professionally edited.
PREFACE
As Governor of Texas Mark Joliet settled into his chair behind his desk, there was a knock at his door. Perturbed, Mark didn’t answer the door immediately. That, apparently, didn’t deter the person who was knocking. He opened the door and made himself comfortable in one of the chairs in the office that were supposedly for visitors, but in reality, just for looks. The strange man sat down and gave the acting governor of Texas a grim smile. “May I help you?” Mark Joliet was a busy man, and this interruption would make him late to begin his workday. " believe you're the one who will be helped, my friend,” the man was cool and confident. He crossed one leg over the other, indicating that he was in no hurry to leave. This irritated the former CIA agent and Texas Ranger chief immeasurably.
“Look, I don’t know how you got in here, but I have a busy day. I’m the focus of the government of the most populous state in the union, so I have a lot of work to do…”
“This will be first on your list, then. I have a story that will hold your interest to the end. It involves you, your friend Jay Magruder, and the most wanted criminal on the face of the earth, as well as the best trained sniper the world has to offer.” The man sat back in his chair and smiled, as he set a stainless-steel arrowhead with bloodstains on it on the acting governor of Texas’ desk.
Mark picked up his phone, “Audrey, hold all my calls for the a.m., please. Well, if it’s her…”
The strange man gave Mark an expectant look, one that said that he was more important than even the leader of the free world.
“Yes, even if the president calls. Tell her I’ll call her back as soon as possible if she does call.” Mark hung the phone up and ended the call with his assistant.
“Okay, you have my attention, but I have a lunch date that I cannot miss…”
“Well, then, I must begin my story promptly…” The strange man then began his story with a quote from Benjamin Franklin. “Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are.”
November 9, 2035; 1730; in the outskirts of Huntsville, Texas:
Magruder prepared himself for his meeting with the most wanted criminal on the face of the earth as best he could. He knew that he was graying the law to accomplish the task that must be accomplished, but he saw no other way out of the situation he was in. Justice, he reasoned, must be served at all costs.
After checking his equipment and surroundings for the last time, Jay sent a text to Sarai, his beloved fourth wife and companion of twenty-five years. In the text, Jay told her how much he loved, appreciated, and respected her, but he must do this one thing, even if it cost him his life. He then sent an email to his two partners with instructions about how the agency should be run if he didn’t survive. Afterward, he put his powerful set of binoculars in its case and unloaded his nine-millimeter handgun. He then placed it in his truck’s console even though he felt naked without it. He knew, though, that Taylor wanted him to come unarmed. He’d said as much in the text he’d sent to Magruder’s phone. He was emphatic that Jay be unarmed, or he would carry out his threat. Jay knew that Taylor was a man of his word, and he wasn’t someone to be trifled with. Magruder said a silent prayer for his and others’ safety and exited his truck at precisely five-thirty p.m.
****
1730:
The small, strange man appeared at the agreed-upon meeting place at precisely five-thirty p.m. on this balmy fall evening. He jumped out of his ancient, green and gray step-side pickup and confronted the detective. He was alone, except for the .223 caliber Glock handgun he brandished in Magruder’s face.
Taylor was a prompt person, so Jay knew that he would be on time. Jay knew, from studying his file, that Taylor had developed an obsession with promptness while he was in South America on business. Most Americans view promptness as a sign of respect. The custom of Columbians paying little, if any attention to the time of day drove Taylor to distraction. The only person who seemed to pay any attention to the time on his wristwatch was the other American that Taylor had dealt with in Columbia: the man who had tried to sell him out to the detective he now was to meet. Jay knew about Taylor’s obsession with time, so he made sure to be in the right place at the right time.
As he exited his truck, Magruder lifted his hands above his head, indicating he was unarmed. As Jay met Taylor, the criminal loaded the barrel of his .223 Glock from its magazine and pointed it in the air; making sure that Jay knew the caliber of handgun he’d brought to the meeting. A .223 Glock, Jay knew, would penetrate the Kevlar vest that he obviously wore under his shirt.
Taylor was a patient man, except when it came to wasting time, and his patience was waning. The timespan he’d set to accomplish his goal was about to expire, and it had made him careless. For once in his life, the cautious man known by the mononym Taylor was in too much of a hurry to check out his surroundings thoroughly. Since he didn’t want to waste time unnecessarily, he began his speech immediately after the two men met.
“What's it going to be, detective, the fate of the free world, or your friend’s life? That’s the friend that a decision you made for him sent him to death row in a state that implements the death penalty on a regular basis, where I’m the governor. I’m the person who has the power to decide what happens to José Leal. You have thirty seconds to decide. Then, if you don’t answer, I’ll blow a hole through the left side of your chest with this .223. You and I both know that your Kevlar vest is useless against a .223 at any range, and you're within six feet of me. Even an inexperienced gunman could hit you at that range, and I’m an expert marksman with any handgun or rifle. After I kill you, your friend will be executed in the next forty-eight hours, and I’ll be free to become the most powerful person in the free world. Three, two, one-”
As Taylor counted to one, Jay’s life flashed before his eyes. He thought about all the people who had been involved to bring him to this point, and the situation that had started it all.