The Black Jeep

Zelda’s Pov

I wore my best navy blue suit with a white official top and black boots. I took my gun and tucked it in my holster on the left thigh of my waist. One of the important rules an FBI agent like myself should remember is to never leave their gun at any moment. Always have your gun with you. I felt uneasy as I walked out my door as out here is where the danger lay. So many unknown variables, so many possible outcomes. I had to be on high alert. I entered my black sedan, turned on the ignition, and when I looked out on my left side mirror, I could notice a black jeep a couple of cars away and it looked conspicuous from the rest. First because in these streets no one could afford such a car as most of my neighbors were middle-income earners and secondly I knew every car that was always parked on the curb. I was getting late for work so drove off but noticed the jeep leaving the moment I did.

A couple of blocks later, the jeep was following at a distance and I knew for a fact that I was the target of the person behind the wheel of that jeep. A few weeks before I had investigated and found out the butcher’s cartel was trailing me for having their don incarcerated and put in prison. Being the master of these streets, I took a different route and after a couple of rights and left turns I had lost the jeep and came back and found the jeep parked at the side of the street. I parked a couple of blocks behind the jeep.

I walked out with my gun in my hand steady. I walked towards the jeep cautiously, tapped on its black windows and the person at the driver’s seat rolled down the windows and when they were fully down, I pointed the gun at him and he was shocked to see me there with a gun pointed at his head that he automatically lifted his hands up in surrender. He looked in his early seventy and he wore a brown pull neck and a black coat with thick, black-rimmed glasses .and he with a notebook and pen on his lap. I was profiling him when he said, “sorry, my child, can you please put the gun down?”

“Why are you following me? Who sent you? Is it the Butchers? Who are you?” I asked all at once and with each question I drew the gun closer to his forehead. He replied calmly, “ yes I was following you but with good reason.” I was about to ask why when he continued, “am here on my own accord and I don’t know any butchers except those who sell meat at the market,” he said chuckling. He was finding this situation funny at a moment where his brains could be blown off on a second. I should probably put a gun to his head already. “ if you want to know why I am following you, meet me at this address, Friday, 8 pm.” With that, he slid the paper down and it fell down. As I went down to pick it up, he rolled up the windows and drove off and I lost him in the wind. I looked up the paper and it showed, an address near the docks. From my work experience, and a meet at the docks is never safe, in most cases it is an ambush and I didn’t like it at all. I have decided, I will not meet that strange man there, I will probably kidnap him next time when he trails and stalks me, torture him until I get all the information from him.

I entered my car and drove to the FBI headquarters just in time to catch the award ceremony. “We are here to award our best performing detective lead for the good work in keeping the streets clean of trashy people. Without further ado, Zelda Pierce.” Said our director, Mr. Masawe. Everyone clapped as I walked to the podium took my medallion and shook hands with the director and gave a short speech, “Thank you for this medallion. Without all of you, the work we do here won’t have any meaning. Thank you all and I hope it inspires you to continue doing this good job towards humanity.” Everyone clapped as I left the podium but I could not concentrate as my mind was clouded by thoughts from that strange man in the black jeep, thoughts about meeting him at the docks or not.