Take a wild ride into the Unknown, as writer Nikolas Spade Spins a tale that will leave you wanting more, and just hoping that the cutting thing is just a joke!
This is The Book of Now. Book one of the Last Paladin series.
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The Book of NowThe Last Paladin Series
By Nikolas Spade
AuthorHouseCopyright © 2012 Nikolas Spade
All right reserved.
By Nikolas Spade.
"IS THIS ALL? is this every thing you have in this rundown ziggurat? If this is then you should be ashamed!"
The words echo through the wind. The smell of dust and debris contaminate the night sky that circles and permeates a tall one hundred story sky scraper. In the middle of the tall man made wonder a huge gaping hole as if a bullet wound in concrete and glass.
Two men stand in the hollow breech, on what used to be carpeted floor, now a mere strips and scraps of its former self, wires spark and flash, concrete crumbles and the building groan's and cry's because of the devastation that has been done to it.
Both men staring each other down, both with smiles so cold and so ominous that even the worst criminal would shutter to see it! On the on the left is A young man, his skin a light brown, although his dress slacks, silk shirt and trench coat all as dark as the night that surrounded him. In his left hand a Colt python revolver, in his right a straight bladed, black leather pummeled, square hilted katana is griped firmly. The blade shows with a white gleam to it. His words that were spoken still hang in the air as if suspended by the steel barb protruding from the ruins.
"You fell so far, and for what? Was this the absolute best you could do, really was this it! I am truly insulted; I thought you would have had the decency to put up much more of a fight!" The man in black proclaims, his voice a deep roar is if that of a lion, yet as cold as an arctic breeze.
"Come on show me; show me what drives you mad! Show me what drove you to this end! Show me your pain, show me your suffering show me you power show me hurry up its been ages since I've had my fun! Haste, Haste, make your move, I will not wait So Haste!" The man in black screams into the night.
2 years prior
The TV in a cheep motel room hums the news about fourth kidnapping in the Triopolis area alone. The room is bustling with lights flashing tape being rip off of the role and laid down, and the murmurs of cops, either still sleepy, or still half drunk from the night before, all in all every cop aggravated that at three thirty in the mourning they were up working.
Donald Mctagart and his partner Simon Veal walk in, Donald, the ten year veteran cop who just recently transferred to the force from somewhere, although no one really knows where he transferred from. He dresses like a professional detective who has seen his fair share of crime sense. His face although young looking he seems tired and worn thin, like a wolf that's seen to many winters. Although his build is that of a boxer even though he is only five foot ten inches. His Irish accent is a dead giveaway to tell where he is from as far as country goes, but that's about it he never talks about himself. He is more content to do his job and go home, which is working the missing persons divisions! In which he has a seemingly perfect record, although it doesn't come without its share of hang ups. Even though he has brought more abductees home, he has also drawn his Glock forty on more Abductors than half of the officers in his precinct.
He is the best at his job hence the nickname, "The Irish wolf" which he is often called on the streets as well as in the office. Many federal agencies have tried to recruit him, but he turns down the offer every time without a second glance at it. Dressed in the usual dark grey suit he simply picks up a shard of glass that looks like it could be a dime if it had silver paint on it.
"So what's the skinny on this one Paul?" Donald asks one of the kneeling officers on the floor.
"We got the call from the room upstairs, they said they heard a window break then that was it "Paul says getting up from the floor.
"Well that's pretty cut and dried by the way what is that?" Donald says while pointing to some sort of triangular wood work with beads and string running through and around it that was hanging from a tack in the wall that is hanging above the bed.
"It's a dreamcathcer she's probably into that new eastern religion crap." Simons words slither out of his mouth, alone his voice is enough to make a snakes scales crawl just because of how slithering it sounds.
Simon Veal is at first glance Arnold shwartsnager in his prime. His bleach blonde hair draping over his eye brows, the perfect man for Peoples Magazine, no one really knows why he became a cop and no one really wants to find out. It's obvious that he is still clinging on to daddy's money; the Veal family is wealthy lawyers who are well known throughout the business community. That explains how he can dress like a movie star with a cop's budget, daddy paid for it all. Still his voice was a complete miss match, and his attitude was that of a pig that the owner had spoiled rotten fifty times over. To most cops he was disgusting, rude, annoying, conniving, and down rite
A thorn in their sides, especially since he never did any of the back work for any of the cases, slacker was always the better word for him. It was a wonder he ever made it through the academy in this first place. So for him to say anything intelligent was a mind stretch.
"This doesn't make any scene, no sign of a struggle, no robbery, what broke the glass, no ransom note what is this?" Donald asks out loud as he points to the luggage. His partner's ears perk up listening to his partners words.
"Hey do we have any information on the Abductees? Donald asks one of the officers searching the bathroom. Another officer comes in with a Léger, "Got it right here Donald". As he hands Donald the Léger, Donald notices another dream catcher above the mantle on the door. "This person is into some really weird stuff." Donald thinks to himself.
The Léger reads "Isis Valenoff, height 5.6, weight 150, race: Caucasian, Gender Female, Hair black, eyes green, age twenty. Identifying marks two piercings, one in her nose, the second on her eye brow. No criminal record.
For Donald that was enough information to go on. One of the other officers was giving the same rundown to Simon when he cut him off saying, "Thanks that will be all." The same officer walked up to Donald and asks "How do you manage to stand that guy?" All Donald says is "He's my partner" and walks out the door.
Already there is a crowd of onlookers and even worse reporters, although some reporters were not as bad as others one of the good ones being Samantha Stanner.
She reported for Action five news, she is 5.6 easy light brown hairs and blue eyes wore round glasses to cover her eyes but her hair draped over her glasses. She wore a maroon business suite.
Her shapely figure was enough to drive men up a wall, but it never seemed to get to her. It remained a mystery as to how she stayed single, and every guy in the station wanted to break here single streak, well all except for Donald who more valued her as a person, not a trophy. Usually when asked to do interviews Donald would refuse, but when she asked he would accept, although Donald could never figure out how to become her friend without making a fool of him. "Hey how are you?" Samantha asks in that innocent voice.
"Ok I guess, I hate that whenever we meet its on nights like these." Donald says.
"Well one of these days we'll see each other without it having to do with work" Samantha says with a little giggle. Donald, who has never been one to smile, cracks a smile and lets out a chuckle. Just then her co-Anchor walks up.
"Hitting on my co Anchor are we?" The man says as he walks up. Donald and Samantha look down at the ground to wipe the smile off of their faces. Donald reflects on the fact that they are on a crime scene, but what is more a crime is how society lets guys like Samantha's co Anchor loose on the street!
Ryan Klowsky, he's in his thirties for sure, Round face although at first glance looks more like an egg. His brown hair in that ridiculous chili bowl is enough to make the guys at the station laugh, but the amount of gel he put in his hair is enough to make a guy sick, most of the time, he has to put enough gel in there to make it rock hard, like a helmet. For what reason I don't know, although at first when looking at him I though used car salesman from the seventies, he is slimy enough to be one. Plus that tan suite makes me want to punch his tailor for letting him walk out the door in that monstrosity! The facial hair thing he has, is that brown mustache he has? It looks more like a glued on cigar, but its real I've seen kids pull on it and it doesn't come off, so I think it's real.
His reporting, if you can call it reporting, fits his personality, skewed, slanted and demeaning. Not only to the cops, but to the victims as well, it is sad. Most of the time cops are told, not to sympathize with the victim and just to do their job, but when Ryan gets a hold of their story then its Precinct policy to fully comfort the victim. Most of the guy's criminal or cop wouldn't put it past him to slant the truth of who his mother was, just to earn a Pulitzer Prize, and he still brags about the ones he has now. Sad part is I've seen guy's on death row who were in my opinion were innocent, but were sent because of some sort of triumphed up evidence that his, "investigative reporting" found, and i've seen it happen in reverse.
This 5, 7 pile of dung has the voice of a TV evangelist, even though he seems hell bent on bringing them to their knees, I often wonder how he sleeps at night.
"Oh, no I am just trying to set up an interview with Mr. Mictagert, that's all." Samantha says as she clears the hair from her face.
"I 'vet never heard you giggle when you talk to me, why is that?" Ryan asks with a little smirk on his face.
"That's because she prefers to have a conversation, not to be hit on like some walking and talking tramp that you pick up every night!" Donald says as he stairs right into Ryan's eyes. Ryan looks up at the Detective with distain in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. "Journalists Business, stay out of it." Ryan says as he begins to look at Samantha again. "Police business now shove off." Donald retorts. Before Ryan can even say a word to retaliate Donald snaps at him with, "Listen I get the whole journalistic duty thing, which Ms. Stanner was arranging, but your jurisdiction ends once you cross the police tape, so right now you and your journalistic duty can get off my crime scene!" Ryan knew that Donald wasn't kidding because he had him forcibly removed once before! Ryan looked at Samantha as if asking for some support, but all he got was look of "let me do my job." With that Ryan walks off in a fuss.
Both Donald and Samantha relax and pick up their conversation where it left off.
"Sorry about that, he never stops hitting on me, and he is the jealous type." Samantha says as she looks at Donald with a look of appreciation.
"No problem, I don't like that guy anyway, so when do you want that interview?" Donald asks.
"I didn't even get around to" Samantha fumbles with her words as she states her surprise.
"I'm a detective I can figure things out, not everything though." Donald says while rubbing the back of his head.
"Like what?" Samantha asks.
"Like where you would want to eat, on Friday?" Donald says while looking at her eyes but trying not to make it obvious.
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Samantha replies."
"No just as friends, I figured we could work and eat?" Donald reply's with a nervous laugh.
"Sure" Samantha replies.
"Ok, but I do need some way to reach you just in case, Romeo might start screening your calls?" Donald asks while he points over at Ryan on the other side of the police tape.
"Ok, here, just in case I cant make it Friday ok?" Samantha asks.
"Ok see you then." Donald says while he takes the card and stuffs it in his coat pocket.
Samantha walks back to her news crew, and Donald looks around on the ground in front of the window. He begins looking more closely at the ground, while walking toward it. When a man in a business suite walks right up to Donald; stairs him in the eye, and says, "Mr. Mictagart I presume?"
"Yes I am he, but sir I must escort you from the crime scene." Donald says as he begins to put his hand on the mans shoulder and walk toward the police barricade.
"Mr. Mictagart I am Agent Yenomori Tanaka of the federal Beauro of Investigations, I am here about the kidnapping case." Agent Tanaka says, as he spins around and pulls out his badge with ID.
"Oh I am sorry, sir I was not informed that your agency had contacted our precinct, I am sure that your superiors have already contacted my superiors, which means that whatever you need will be at your disposal." Donald apologetically says while he turns around and heads back toward the crime scene.
"My name is Yenomori Tanaka and actually I have been ordered to be at your disposal as well as my departments resources Mr. Mictagart, your reputation precedes you which is why I am being placed with you sir." Mr. Yenomori responds.
Yenomori Tanaka a stout 5.6, black hair, slightly slanted eyes, squared faced, broad shoulder Japanese man dressed in a business suite ready to work and get results.
"As I said before your reputation precedes you, Irish wolf, my department has been trying to recruit you for sometime; it will be an honor working with you." Yenomori states as he moves to walk beside Donald.
"So to whom do I owe the pleasure of having to be your escort?" Donald asks.
"It is actually me who is owed the pleasure; or rather I am escorting you." Yenomori says.
"Ok what data do you have on the abductees?" Donald asks.
"All we have is what; you have read on the ledger." Yenomori answers.
"So what" Donald begins to says.
"All we know that this is the sixth kidnapping city wide and at roughly the same time, and as I suspected the crime scenes look exactly the same sir, there has been no real variation, except the locations themselves." Yenomori interrupts Donald before he could even ask the question.
"What about age?" Donald asks before Yenomori could cut him off.
"Ages eighteen to twenty seven, that's the age range, anything else in common has not been found or posted on this case sir." Yenomori answers the question.
As Donald and Yenomori walk up to the crime scenes window which had been completely blown out Donald notices that even though his is five feet away he is not stepping on glass! As Donald looks down he notices that there is no glass on the ground outside the motel room at all, plus the fact that there is no glass in the window frame at, usually when glass I broken that I would go everywhere unless some one spent the time to pick up the shards. Although the call was pleased almost right after the glass shatter sound hit their ears, and there was not enough time for one guy or even a team of guys to pick up all of that glass in seven minuets which is the response time for the precinct. Unless they had some sort of device that would remove the glass and then drop it, but then again why would they risk being caught, why not just do the crime and wait till the heat cools down, and the case goes into the cold files? It doesn't make scene.
While all of these thoughts whirl around in Donald head he turns his himself toward the crowd, which had been growing since the call was placed.
"Yenomori, go and review the cameras for this place see if anyone suspicious came in the past three days or so." Donald asks with a grim look on his face to Yenomori.
"Yes sir." Yenomori says with a puzzled look on his face.
The reason Donald sent Yenomori was because he spotted someone in the crowd which is unusual since Donald only really takes notice of someone who either is a suspect, or is some one who knows something about this case. He is a civilian, a man, his skin a light brown, his hair, trench coat; shirt and dress pants were as dark as the night that surrounded him. Square glasses sit on an oval shaped face, which never cracked a smile. Behind his glasses lies black eyes that are searching of some sort of hidden clue on the crime scene that no one has been able to remotely pick up, but yet with the stare of someone who knows what's going on even though none else dose. Right above his right eye is a scar that is red as blood; even though it looks to be well healed it still has a fresh look to it. The six foot two inches dark monolith of a man just stood there watching. Right away Donald thought he is a threat, and then in some inexplicable way, he begins to relax as if he has seen this person before, yet he has never met this man before. Donald soon realized that he recognized the look on that mans face it was a look he had dawned many a time, when searching the crime scene of previous cases. It was the look of a wolf who was about to hunt down an enemy! Samantha happened to look over at Donald where she was standing from, and also happened to see the dark stranger as well, she soon realized what she was staring at. The two men were not men; they were a pair of lone wolves staring at each other as they passed on either side of a territorial line. Two lone wolves who are ready to hunt!
Excerpted from The Book of Now by Nikolas Spade Copyright © 2012 by Nikolas Spade. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
ContentsDisclaimer and Authors comments....................vii
Now, Chapter One....................1
Now, Chapter Two....................11
Paladin, Chapter One....................67
Paladin, Chapter Two....................77
Paladin, Chapter Three....................87
Paladin, Chapter Four....................97