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I stare from across the wide avenue. He will surely be my next victim. While I

am short, stocky and hooded, the man who I stalk is as tall as the Empire State

Building, as thin as a bobby pin, and looked as strong as a tank. His towering height

stands at least six inches taller than anybody that surrounds him at this moment. As the

gigantic man turns the corner, I pick up my pace; the same as his, in fear of losing him.


As I frantically try to spot him, I realize that I should just look for tall figures in the

crowd. I soon discover him a few minutes later at a sketchy hot dog stand. As I cut

through the massive mob of people leaving the subway station, my target cuts just a few

yards ahead of me.


We both descend into the Earth. We buy our tickets and end up in the same

subway car. This is where I get my first close look at the man. I’ve finally found my

suspect. He fits the bosses description perfectly. He’s tall, about six feet, 10 inches, the

tallest person I’ve seen today. He’s also somewhat muscular; not bulging with muscles,

but you can clearly see that he is a very strong man.


A few short minutes later, the subway screeched, and slid to a stop in front of the

station. The man and I flooded out with all of the other people and I was soon stuck in

another crowd. He scurried up the stairs and as soon as I got unjammed, I sprinted up

the stairs to follow him. I saw him immediately enter Madison Square Garden. I

shuffled through the mobs of people so I could get to the exchange spot.


According to the signs outside, there was a Knicks-Sixers game that night. He

unknowingly led me inside of the inner bowels of the huge stadium. I observed the

high-up-executives of each team matter-of-factly spit unwanted information to their

respective coaches.


The large man was now meandering through the labrynth of staircases and

hallways and tunnels and tight turns throughout the building, but he clearly knew where

he was going. I was now almost in position for handoff. The man turned, and I was

prepared for the verbal allowance that assured him I was the right contact. I had, of

course, stolen the information from bugged telephone lines. He started.


“Honey badgers eat bee larvae.”


I knew the correct response. “Maybe they do, but do they use pens?”


He smiled and gladly accepted the fake shipment of cocaine that the organization

had set up. A tracking device monitored the movement of the package. We use them

to find warehouses or gang hideouts where drugs may be stored. Once the package

stops moving, we move in and make the bust in the middle of the night.


Tomorrow I am going to be on my first ever drug bust. I am nervous, but we are

silent and we own the night. There should be nothing to worry about, but anything is

possible.


I now lie awake with the fear of my life and the nausea of my anxiety lingering

around in my mind. I am thinking; thousands of lives ruined from these drugs, or my life

being over. I’ve chosen. From now on, my life will be in danger.





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