Florida Sun

Chapter 1

“Hey,” He said taking a seat across from Andrew while sipping his Coke “so the Dolphins suck again.” He stated conversationally. Andrew just stared at him.

“Who the hell are you” he asked finally with a heavy Spanish accent.

Mike took a long, obnoxious sip from his Coke and used it to swallow the car size ball of anger in his throat  “I am your worst nightmare.”

“Is that so?” Andrew said smiling and standing up.

“Why are you smiling?” Mike asked sounding disappointed, “You’re supposed to be scared.”

Andrew started laughing. Mike put his lips together, popped them, pulled his shirt up, and took his gun out, and pointed it at Andrew’s head.

“Detective Mike Piazza Florida Department of Law Enforcement.” He said pointing at the badge on his belt “Might I suggest kind sir that you don’t move.” Andrew laughed again.

“And what are you going to do with that? You look like you’re ten.” He mocked. Just then the waiter came up. He looked at the scene, dropped the tray he was holding, pulled a gun from his apron, and pointed it at Andrew.

“Quincy, FDLE.” He said also showing a badge. Hernandez looked around wondering what to do. Suddenly he took off running, pushing people out of the way. Mike and Quincy took aim. Mike stood pointing his gun, when suddenly he started breathing heavily.

He was overcome with emotion, his mind telling him wait for backup. His heart telling him kill Andrew. Unload this ferocious machine in your hands. It’s for your family. Mike’s arms started shaking, sweat now pouring in dots down his eyes. Andrew went down.

Standing over him was another Andrew. This one was a detective named Andrew Shenemann.

Mike lowered his gun and mumbled a thank you, trying to catch his breath, thankful fate had escaped him again. Andrew picked Hernandez up by the collar and handcuffed him. He walked him back to Mike and Quincy just as Mike’s grilled cheese got to his table.

“Damn,” Quincy said, “I would have had his ass if you had waited a second.”

“Yea” Andrew replied, “And if a frog had wings it wouldn’t hop around on its ass.”

“Damn” Quincy replied throwing off his apron, “I’m glad this is over. I’m done playing Paula Dean”

Mike grabbed his sandwich as they walked back to the entrance and threw a few dollars on the table. The blond waitress stood leaning against the door frame. She popped her gum and replaced the knife she had been holding in its sheath tucked into her boot.

“Man you’re a cheap ass tipper” Quincy said as they all walked away from the resturaunt.

*********

It was a very modern building. The outside was all glass and the sidewalk outisde was lined with small potted plants.  Alan and Dom walked into the hair salon and got that usual arctic ac rush you get in any building in Florida.

Dom was in the lead followed by Alan. Alan was dressed in Jeans, a long sleeve Hollister shirt, racing shoes, and Wiley-X sunglasses glasses, his sleek, skinny form showing through the shirt. His gun and badge clearly visible on his belt. He was the kind of person that was usually reserved and quiet but can get pissed off very easy. Not the greatest of combos.

Dom, who had a football player look, and a football player girl following, was wearing Wrangler jeans, a plain white shirt, and Ray Ban shades. His head cocked to the side, and big arms stretching the shirt out.  The salon was bustling, with people coming in and out and a line about a half mile long. They walked through looking around.