Status: In process of being edited and revised.
▂ ▃ ▅ ▆ █ Lovley █ ▆ ▅ ▃ ▂
Is Chief racist or does he just have anger management probs?
Wincing at the smell of a strong bag of Salt and Vinegar chips and the Chief’s loud and obnoxious chewing, Abell felt nauseous at every crunch of that pickle and its juices drooling from the Chief’s mouth and every crumb that fell on his sloppy desk and rug stained floor. She swore something under her breath, on the lines of calling him a greasy pig or fat oaf. Either two, the Chief heard.
“This is why people don’t like dealing with you because of that nasty mouth of yours.”
Abell dropped her chin toward her chest and looked up at Chief Lenton with her daring cerulean eyes. “Sorry, Chief.”
He suddenly stood up, and Chief Lenton walked over to his window, causing a mini earthquake which resorted to Abell having to use her fast reflexes to catch all the falling documents and pens from his desk. She honestly had no idea why the whole DFA building was huge, nice and clean consisting of marble and granite whereas Chief Lenton’s office was small, dingy, raggedy, and smelled just like him.
He had no right for bursting out the way he did but he did it and scared Abell out of her wits.
“This is not a democracy! This is a fucking dictatorship and I run everything!”
“Why yes, Chief, yes you do.”
“Every fucking piece of trashy criminal human being is rotting this place and it’s our duty to destroy them!” His spit literally sprayed over the whole window like a sprinkler system and right when he turned around Abell wanted to grab an umbrella.
“How do you suppose we do that, Chief?” She asked, shielding her eyes in a way to not make it noticeable that she didn’t want Lenton’s spit all over her. Her eyes squinted at the reflex of him starting to speak. She really needed to stop grabbing this man’s attention.
“You’re wanted over in Australia.” With a much calmer voice and drawled tone, he grabbed a thick yellow file folder, and dropped the stash on Abell’s lap. She flinched at the sudden weight but quickly began to rummage through the files without giving the Chief bad eye contact.
“Why am I wanted over there?” She asked as she noticed that everything in the file looked to be Top Secret and that was material way over her league.
“The AFP wants you.”
“AFP…?”
“Australian Federal Police, did the children not learn anything in school?”
“Oh, sorry.” She snorted and brought the glasses hanging from her neck up to her eyes, and read the paragraphs from afar and quite awkward.
“Put them bitches on!” Chief snapped and then continued with his briefing once Abell frantically put her glasses fully on her face, “They heard about your case with Beckham. They asked for your assistance with the case of tracking down a man named Tibbot Peyton and the mafia who’s tracking him.”
“This is why people don’t like dealing with you because of that nasty mouth of yours.”
Abell dropped her chin toward her chest and looked up at Chief Lenton with her daring cerulean eyes. “Sorry, Chief.”
He suddenly stood up, and Chief Lenton walked over to his window, causing a mini earthquake which resorted to Abell having to use her fast reflexes to catch all the falling documents and pens from his desk. She honestly had no idea why the whole DFA building was huge, nice and clean consisting of marble and granite whereas Chief Lenton’s office was small, dingy, raggedy, and smelled just like him.
He had no right for bursting out the way he did but he did it and scared Abell out of her wits.
“This is not a democracy! This is a fucking dictatorship and I run everything!”
“Why yes, Chief, yes you do.”
“Every fucking piece of trashy criminal human being is rotting this place and it’s our duty to destroy them!” His spit literally sprayed over the whole window like a sprinkler system and right when he turned around Abell wanted to grab an umbrella.
“How do you suppose we do that, Chief?” She asked, shielding her eyes in a way to not make it noticeable that she didn’t want Lenton’s spit all over her. Her eyes squinted at the reflex of him starting to speak. She really needed to stop grabbing this man’s attention.
“You’re wanted over in Australia.” With a much calmer voice and drawled tone, he grabbed a thick yellow file folder, and dropped the stash on Abell’s lap. She flinched at the sudden weight but quickly began to rummage through the files without giving the Chief bad eye contact.
“Why am I wanted over there?” She asked as she noticed that everything in the file looked to be Top Secret and that was material way over her league.
“The AFP wants you.”
“AFP…?”
“Australian Federal Police, did the children not learn anything in school?”
“Oh, sorry.” She snorted and brought the glasses hanging from her neck up to her eyes, and read the paragraphs from afar and quite awkward.
“Put them bitches on!” Chief snapped and then continued with his briefing once Abell frantically put her glasses fully on her face, “They heard about your case with Beckham. They asked for your assistance with the case of tracking down a man named Tibbot Peyton and the mafia who’s tracking him.”