International Police and Federal Embassies

“There is no way you can tell me that is normal for kittens”, Rizalino pressed his hands to his lips, biting into to the tips of both left and right ring fingers, trying not to yell yet so very unnerved.
“No, you can’t blame me for this”, Maisie threw out some heavy accent, but in honesty it was her Australian trying incredibly hard to blend into a fake British kind. She caressed his cheek just behind his hand, done with such prowess, she snuck the move right between his wrists. “You know the cats, they get this way. Natural, all natural”, she seemed flustered as she tried desperately to convince him not to swipe her hand away, with a quite a pretty expression on her face.
“Just how much ice cream did you feed them”, Rizalino almost appeared to be crying with all that shock roaming his eyes, as he stepped back, jaw agape. A nice panicked gasp of possible screaming terror came about, as he turned to the counter top. His hands sprang out, palms up, fingers begging to the air for reasoning and some sort of calamity aversion.
“Only a little, but they seemed to really like it”, Her little squeal kind of brought a half believable tone to her voice, but then it went south from there or rather doubtful and not to be relied upon.
Rizalino picked through not one, not two, but three empty cartons of ice cream, ofcourse the bases were not even gleaming with melted left overs; licked up every drop. The tips of his ring finger and thumb clasped upon the carton ridge, hand trembling as he peered to the side at the noise his kittens were making during Maisie and Rizalino’s conversation.
“You don’t deserve to bounce around free, there is something not right with your self-control”, He gathered her hand, his finger tips along knuckles and there under. Rizalino reached for the back of his shirt with his other hand, and enclosed her wrists in the cuffs fetched at his rear pants pocket.
“Are we playing naughty cop, bad girl”, Maisie gave a sensual giggle before she licked her lips from the corner, “mm”. Her eyes widened, climbing up the route of all shame, she was pleading with quivering lips and subtle unwilling to be barred away nods, “You can’t be serious”. She grasped at his heart, with her profoundly tender tone, caring and affection showering through her touch upon his wrist and softly down the top of his hand, “to the bed please, not to the door”.
Maisie’s come on was interrupted and sorely mistaken as Rizalino guided her out the house. Her short period of intense emotional and limb activity of a specific entreating kind, was dominated by the newly conversion in her minds voice to an irrational or loving concept. The idea was his sudden lifting of her body off the ground into his arms felt nice, in her thought it was good to be there, even if this was something else for him.
Rizalino glanced down for a moment, when her cute whimpers had quieted down to absolute silence. “what were you freaking for? I’m not a cop“. He didn’t bother to open the car door, with her little curled form and her face nestling to his chest, he pulled her to a distance and lowered her into the seat through the passenger window.
As Rizalino stepped around the front hood, and entered the Lotus Elise, Mairie repositioned her self ,and slipped her cuffed wrists under her butt. He noticed her playing her toes in piano key manner across her cuffs, while he started the engine. “Can you do a little favor? Or a big one depending on how cross the froggie you are.”

“I’m not letting you go free, we went over this already, you are unfit for society”

“That’s not true, we did not agree on that; I can dispute and I shall.” Mairie gently shifted her feet under her bum, rose to turn along upon her knees, and tossed her arms around his neck. With a brief giggle she leaned in to his ear, “Please go to Miss Waerblith house, she needs help with the Groundsell lads”, she smiled perfectly, gleaming with lasciviousness, exulted for showing him his presentment’s lack of good sense.

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Rizali popped the key into the cuffs, releasing Mairie, and quickly opened his sun visor, dropping a pair of cuff from behind the shield. He snatched them out the air, and locked one end to Mairie’s wrist as she was unexpectedly happy to be out of the other pair. “Um, why did you switch out the cuffs?”, She had her gaze on the key, her little pout turning to a smile, as she carefully reached for it. Rizali snapped the cuffs to his steering wheel, clutching the key in a closed fist just as the metal and skin grazed Mairie’s touch.

“Those are my favorite cuffs”, His eyes glanced at the steering wheel as he responded, and then he faced her slipping in a wink before he exited the car, heading to the Groundsell’s front porch.

Waerblith let him in the house as he arrived at the door, her tone was quite spastic and then it saturated of intensity not short of stern, “Look, they were doing cocaine, and they were beating each other’s heads apart… but but, they’re better now. Boys the cops are here, you need to behave or you’re going to jail”

“ you cant use it for that, they don’t make em for tool purposes”, the Groundsell father knocked his knuckles on his son’s head, as Rizali stepped through the house and spotted the two out in the backyard.

“I made it myself, I want to use it for something”, the son descended into a romantic engagement, his sappy expression beaming, culminating with that soft grip he held his craft by.

“ok, go ahead try it your way! If it breaks, don’t make another one!”

“another hound or the.. “, The son stroked and patted his iron cast hound like it was a good little puppy.

“what are you two building?”, Rizali’s eyes seemed to sink back into his head as he looked over the bazaar chair like object before them, it had horribly placed nails with bent ends all throughout the support segments.

“well it’s a swing set with a bench, can’t you tell”, the father sprayed a generous amount of oil rust protection into his son’s ear. “his fault the thing looks like an electric chair”

“um, ehem, the bench isn’t suppose to have .. legs, the swing frame .. guh, I mean the standing frame, it needs the legs, not the bench part”, as Rizali spoke, the son was using the paw of his iron hound to attempt at prying the nails out of their warped positions wrapped along the bench legs.

“you are so coked up, have you considered giving your brains a wash? work some selsun blue deep deep in your brain cells”

“well did we call the cops on ourselves ?”, the father unleashed another cloud of rust protection into the corner of his son’s eye.
The son grunted in pain, as he brushed over his eye with the top of his wrist joint, “I don’t think so, dad”
“That’s right, now bog off”

“erm, im just going to excuse myself from this situation “ , Rizali gazed concernedly as he walked very small steps backwards. When he was sure they were not paying attention, Rizali grabbed the father’s neck, spinning him around as he dragged the man’s face into his hard punch, “why don’t you tell me who your drug contact is”.

Blood streamed from the fathers nasal, as he confessed, he wasn’t in the mood to fight and knew his own conditions limits, “He’s a chippy in Hucculecote here in Gloucester, Sadie Meath”.

“Have you really taken a gander at Sadie. Your contact is a tomboy, she’s a girl, you barmy”, Rizali set the father about himself, after slapping the cuffs on him. When he walked to Waerblith, Rizali held out the key to the wife as she shook, “don’t worry really call anyone on them, relax, I’m not a cop”

Once she accepted the key, he returned to the Lotus, with Mairie kicking the steering wheel, “ So did you give yourself some thought, maybe you could leave the pursuing up to me?”

“I hate you”, Mairie slanted her eyes at him as he sat in his seat, she enjoyed being trapped at his mercy, but she was bothered by him not getting his kink on with her.

“you hate me”, Rizali laughed under his whimsical sigh. “Really, is that why you break into my house every time I pull in the drive way”.

“You’ve done the hang out routine so many times, I feel like I know you as the other pet I didn’t buy from the shop”, Pretending like he didn’t know what he was doing, as he drove to his assignment, Rizali placed his hand over Mairie’s since she was still attached to the steering wheel.

Was Deputy director Eanruig to that direction or the other, no telling if the guy was spying on Rizali; oh he wanted so badly to abandon this case. He gulped a little on the rift about bringing Mairie along, she had that vibe, like things were going to get pash stifling and toss hot in this car whether he willing participated or not. “Can you stop, and let me off where ever a ladies room is”, Bewilderment settled in, there wasn’t any danger from the assignment target, but seriously if he saw Mairie drifting from the living, it wasn’t going to be easy to do this. “Mairie, I have to go, be careful minx”, Even though she consciously exited the car, she stood aching for him to waiting there when she returned, she knew he wouldn’t, and that’s what exposed the emotions.

“Damn girl, did It hurt”, the voice carried from the most awkward British impression of a ghetto boy, he stood there with his crooked cap and baggy clothes, his head swerving as checked her out from side to side.

“what hurt”, Mairie sounded very sassy with him, thinking he was implying she just got rejected.

“when you fell from heaven, cause it looks like you fell face first”

Rizali picked out one of his back up guns from the center consoles storage compartment, made sure it was loaded. Aiming out the passenger window he blasted the ghetto man’s neck, sending him screaming and flopping to the ground. “Aww man, I’m going to die from this aint I”, the Britt quieted down, as he peered at everyone around him, his hand clasped to his neck. He sat up nervously as realized he was not bleeding from the rubber bullet, and the girl smiled passionately to the driver in the lotus, pleased by Rizali’s brash reaction.

Speeding off down the street, Rizalino slowed the Lotus to a stop a few blocks passed. The world of England seemed a bit darker, death dropping chains from its scythe, trying to draw individuals into a connection, and send them attracted at the kill point of a group in a single claim.

A man lowering closer and closer to the end of his rope, step by step, a noose decorating his throat; he could reach the bottom, adieu life. The poor saps misery controlled every detail in his voice and expression, the way his face and arms slammed against his steering wheel one after the other, “I didn’t mean to get fired, I didn’t do anything to upset them”.

His eye lids sealed in suffering, those self-esteem nodes crushed so evidently in his next expression; the tone of his wife challenging his flaw, tearing at him for the meaning of his job loss. “He pitched my idea, and he did it better”.
His fingertips pinched along the bridge of his nose where his eye corners meet, the next question was to be expected, and it surmised the guilt of taking responsibility for his decision, “I knew he could do it, so I gave him my pitch, and helped him with all the information”.
Honor was at stake, and it was unjust, his wife’s accusation a typical one, “No he was not trying to keep credit away from me. We didn’t know the boss would ignore our team work, and deem me a liability”.

Her voice blasted into every measure of his car, “THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU APPLY FOR THE JOB! IF YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT, THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME YEARS AGO, HOW PATHETIC YOUR ABILITY TO PUT FORTH EFFORT IS!”

“Because I can contribute wonderful ideas, that is why I took the job. I don’t have to be the best man on earth, why can’t any one understand that. I don’t have to be the prize everyone will praise you for. Why can’t I just exist as me? why can’t you appreciate that I feel affection toward you even though you are not so tolerable and magnificent.”

It could have been by instinct, some desperate milliseconds of his will to die, but as a wild Jaguar XK shot toward the Lotus, the wailing man drove his car in between the collision. Several pound pieces of machinery screeched along the street upon their tires, glass and blood mixed, as Rizalino’s lotus caught the two cars piled up together. Horrified by his near astonishingly good health, Cadda slammed his fist into the front window, finalizing the death of the glass from the present cracks. He pulled himself over the front wheel, hands pressing into the shards, and slumped over on the car hood. His phone laid under the brake pedal with the barking mad woman’s voice on the fritz.

“Don’t you know how to drive !”, the violence seeded in this man’s words startled Cadda, but not so much as the way the stranger grabbed Cadda’s face. His cheek skin ached under the stranger’s considerably tight grip. After a few wide heavy tugs of his cheeks in various directions, Cadda’ crawled along the hood, his body bruising as he was yanked to the ground. Cadda’s back took the brunt of his body being forced to the car grill and bumper, at instant his pants were having a diaper issue. The stranger’s face was hidden behind a wax nasty mask, as the man’s eyes were staring into Cadda’s soul, figuring out the slight smile in corner of Cadda’s lips.
“You will never die peacefully”, He thrusted his fist into Cadda’s collar bone, then dropped low on bent knees, and rose with one sharp left leg strike to Cadda’s gut. Palm nearly kissed skin with forearm as Rizali twisted and bent the stranger’s wrist in on itself, by applying pressure to the hand and the elbow of the same limb. Swift kicks from Rizali to both left and right popliteal fossa, brought the stranger to his knees upon the ground. Cadda scampered up and rushed off to the Jaguar XK, he found the keys nicely inserted in the ignition slot, convenient and blessed for more than him.

“Your current assignment doesn’t give you much practice, but I know you’ve kept yourself trained with other calls”, it wasn’t the stranger’s words that peeked an interest in Rizali, hindering him from slamming the man’s nose into the car until he went unconscious; no something more simple than that froze his actions, the explainable. The man cackled so skillfully, a bleaker dread couldn’t have been created, as he stealthily retrieved his concealed gun.

“Charming, which facility did you break out of fugitive?”, Rizali reached for his side arm shock pistol, but a bullet punctured into the muscle of where his neck and shoulder meet. His body tilted back as he removed all his weight and limbs from the stranger’s personal space, he clamped his opposite hand to the bleeding wound immediately. “Haaa, fuck, like a true fugitive”, Rizali’s legs gave way as he was struck in the ankle with a forceful kick, his chest and stomach sucked up the impact of the ground.

“Did you think I would come after the law with out .. oh yes, that’s right , you’re not a cop”, The man mimicked Rizali’s classic phrase with a near comparison, just before he disappeared on the other side of the Jaguar XK that drove over Rizali, the underside barely missing the agent’s skull as he watched on.

With the stranger pinned between two car bumpers, Cadda breathed heavily and screamed for all to best recognize, “I AM NOT YOUR HONEY BUNNY”! Cadda’s eyes shifted side to side, as he realized he had not crashed the car into his wife, but the stranger instead, either way a bully got some.

Eanruig the Scottish leader of rizali’s Interpol branch, stood at the foot of his bed, when he awoke in the Winfield Gloucester hospital. Peaceful negotiations were not making themselves available, but Rizali wasn’t going to take a stuffing, not after he considered this event an important task. “The suspect in your shooting goes by the name Dissanayake according to him. The reports say he takes on the name of a random city. He has popped up in other countries before, but we have no identity yet. He’s been recognizable by his tall stature and that back coat he wears, along with large amounts of wax on his face. Agent Rizalino, is there a reason you have a bullet from another assignment in your scalene muscles?”, Eanruig obviously pulled that information out the paper work he was flipping through, of the folder within his grasp. “Come on, the guy I’ve been tracking has never done anything remotely criminal, let alone break anything national or federal enforced. I should not be on this case”

Location: Lyons, France
Time: 13:20, DST +1 hour
Director Oscar Littman's Office