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[Majestic] 101 - "Majority Twelve"

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posted on May, 16 2004 @ 01:38 AM
Inspired by various experiences myself, research on the internet, and one incident in particular, I present my episodic story of the covert agency, "Majestic Twelve".

This is the first part of the first episode, labelled "Majority Twelve".

Your comments are appreciated. Enjoy.


Majestic Season 1, Episode 1 Majority Twelve

The crisp autumn air of Union Station felt good as David Johnston stepped off the train onto the concrete platform. He looked at his watch quickly, walking towards the station exit.

Eight O Clock, he thought. Just enough time to deliver the package.

He patted the suitcase in his right hand and maneuvered through the turnstiles. Hed worked hard to get that information, and if anyone ever knew he had it, it was the end of him.

He chuckled to himself. The biggest intelligence agency in the world and not enough sense to keep track of their people.

As much as he enjoyed mocking them for their general stupidity, he was simultaneously relieved that the getaway was as swift as it was. The best part, of course, was that no one knew a thing, nor did they suspect anything.

The sidewalk was empty which was surprising for an evening. He quickly hailed a cab and was about to enter when a voice interrupted him.

Hey, said a woman from behind him. Ive been waiting for one for the past 15 minutes. This ones mine.

Johnston turned around to find a blonde-haired, stunning young woman dressed in a warm coat and an overnight bag. She gave him a look that he knew meant she was not going to lose this cab.

Johnston smiled briefly, How about we share this one.

She looked him up and down and finally nodded. Okay.

When they got into the cab, Johnston spoke first. Du Ponte Circle, he said.

And where are you headed, maam, he said curtly, with slight amusement in his voice.

Oh, I thought Id have a nice quiet dinner at Rialtos, she said.

Rialtos is closer than Du Ponte, said the cab driver from the front. Which one first?

Johnston ignored the cab driver, So whats a stunning woman like yourself eating dinner alone on a night like this?

There was something about her that Johnston thought was irresistible. Her smile seemed to indicate the feeling was mutual.

What makes you think Im going to be alone, she said with a smirk.

Johnston chuckled. From the way you said it. A quiet dinner is usually a dinner taken alone.

Well, she replied. Arent you the observant type.

They trained me well, he thought.

Well, Ive got a bit of time before my meeting, said Johnston, glancing at his watch. How about you and I have dinner together.

She chuckled after a brief pause.

Oh this is fresh, she said, gesturing into the air. I cant wait to tell my roommate I had dinner with a guy I met in a taxicab.

Johnston shrugged. So?

She paused, still smiling, and sighed after a moment.

Well, she said. Rialtos it is.

The cab driver put the car into gear as they made their way down the highway towards the eastern district of Washington, D.C.

I dont even know your name, she said after a moment. This is so embarrassing.

Johnston chuckled. Why?

Well, she said. I dont think Ive ever accepted a dinner from a guy I didnt even know the name of.

First time for everything, I guess, he said, extending a hand. David Johnston.

She shook his hand warmly and replied, Emily Watkins.


Ive never felt like this before, said Emily Watkins as she and David Johnston sat at a small table in the corner of the dining room of Rialtos Restaurant in Washington, D.C.

Felt like what? asked Johnston, taking a sip of the fine wine he ordered for their Italian dinner.

I dont know, she said, in a puzzling tone. I dont even know you that well, but youre so easy to talk to and very charming and handsome

She trailed off as the waiter came over and asked for their orders.

So what do you do? she asked as the waiter left the table.

Im an engineer for Merck, he said.

Merck, she repeated. Ive never heard of them.

Theyre based in Virginia, he added. And what about you?

Im a political analyst for the White House, she said. Well, sort of anyway.

Johnston chuckled. Sort of?

Well, she continued. I work for the deputy chief of staff. I dont exactly work policy, per se. Nor do I advise the President. Rather, Im sort of the go-between when it comes to the NSA and the Whitehouse.

Exciting job, said Johnston. Probably much more public than mine.

Publicity is not always fun, she said after a moment, taking a sip of her wine.

Johnston shrugged, Do you smoke?

No, she said.

Oh, he replied. Well Ive got to quit soon. Ive cut it down to one a day. Ive got to have mine now though, so if youll excuse me, Ill step outside for about five minutes.

No problem, she said. I have to go freshen up anyway. Traveling makes me weary.

He smiled and headed towards the door. She watched him out of the corner of her eye and smiled too.

Maybe this is the one, she thought.

The air outside was even colder than at Union Station. Johnstons breath was visible in the air as he lit his cigarette on the curbside next to the restaurant.

She is something, he thought. Its too bad I wont be able to stay in the area. After this, Im going to have to get the hell out of this region. If Maj

He didnt have time to complete his thought. A black SUV pulled up beside the curb and four men in black military overcoats stepped out. There was no chance of running.

His heart sank, Maybe theyre not as stupid as I thought. I have no idea how they found me.

Johnston, said one of the men as he approached. He had a Captains insignia on his shoulder. Johnston, Johnston, Johnston

He repeated the phrase, as a disappointed parent would do to a child.

Didnt I tell you, in the conversation back at headquarters, not to try anything foolish?

Look, I --, he protested, backing up from the curb towards the wall of the restaurant.

I nothing, Johnston, said the man. There are no excuses. You betrayed me, your team, and your country.

Look, the truth cannot be hidden for much longer.

The truth can and will be hidden, said one of the other men. This one had an Eagle on his shoulder, signifying the rank of Colonel. His voice was deeper and more authoritative. And as far as youre concerned, were finished toying around.

Did you really think you could escape? said the captain. I mean, honestly.

Johnston said nothing. The four men had all gathered around him and he was pinned against the wall by one of the mens forearms.

David? came Emilys voice from the door, as she poked her head out and turned towards the group.

The agent holding Johnston relaxed his grip a little and Johnston was the first to speak.

Hi Emily, he said. The nervousness was easily detectable in his voice. Im just finishing up with a few of my co-workers who were kind enough to stop by. Ill be in, in a moment.

Emily eyed him for a moment and then nodded. The restaurants door closed behind her as she returned inside.

Again, the attention focused back to Johnston.

You didnt answer my question, said the captain. Did you really think you could escape?

A moment passed and Johnston finally nodded, Sadly, yes.

The colonel chuckled. Youre more foolish than I thought.

The agent who was holding him against the wall punched him hard in the forehead. The blow stunned Johnston and he fell to his knees. Johnston guessed he wore a ring, because he recalled getting punched before, but by nothing that hard.

Were finished with you, said the colonel. Youre of no more use to us.

The colonel pulled out a gun from his holster, cocked it, aimed at Johnstons head, and fired.

The shot rang out loudly, but no one was around to hear it. Johnston keeled over, dead.

As the colonel and the captain headed back towards the SUV, the two other men dragged Johnstons body into the alley next to the restaurant and returned to the car.

The SUV drove off quietly, leaving no trace of their presence except for the exhaust of the vehicle as it disappeared behind a corner.


Why do mornings suck so much, complained Detective Dylan McDaniel as he stepped out of his car onto the sidewalk of Rialtos Restaurant in the heart of Washington D.C.

Probably because the suckage dies down at night, chuckled his partner, Detective Todd Denton. You have to make your quota, you know.

McDaniel rolled his eyes and approached the police tape. Uniformed officers roamed the area, and a bunch of others were huddled around a draped body in the alley of the restaurant. The owner of the restaurant was out-front, talking with another officer, making raving gestures into the air.

Business is gonna suck for him, said McDaniel. A murder in front of a restaurant is definitely not something to attract customers with.

They approached the body, and were greeted by the on-scene examiner, Jim Mortimer.

He died of a single gunshot wound to the head, close-range, Mortimer said.

What kind of weapon? asked McDaniel, taking the report sheet from Mortimer.

Looks like a fifty-caliber. Probably foreign. Probably a Desert Eagle.

A desert eagle? said Denton. Isnt that a bit overkill?

Mortimer looked down at the body and sighed, I guess not.

Well, take him to the lab. I want an autopsy performed at once, directed McDaniel.

Sure thing, Mortimer called after them as they walked toward the officer in charge.

We got the call at 7am this morning, said the officer. Garbage crews were taking away the trash from last night thats when they noticed it.

McDaniel nodded. Any suspects?

The officer sighed, We talked to all the employees in the restaurant even went so far as to call in the people who worked at night. None of them saw anything suspicious well except for one thing.

Oh? McDaniel perked up.

Yeah, the officer continued. One of the waiters uhh Joe Beckman said that he saw the gentlemen and another lady here last night. He says that the lady is a regular: goes by the name of Emily Watkins, and works for the White House. He said hes never seen the guy before.

Anything else? asked Denton.

Yeah, the officer said. Beckman also said that they had ordered, and the victim stepped out to have a smoke, but never came back in. The lady, Watkins, just left after a while, making a comment to the waiter about him going off with his buddies or something.

Okay, said McDaniel. Thats a start.

He turned toward Mortimer, who had just walked up to the group. I want an ID on the guy ASAP.

Weve already got one, Mortimer replied.

Oh? said McDaniel, curiously. Who is he?

David Johnston, he replied. Lived in California.

Excellent, said McDaniel. One step at a time.


End Teaser.

posted on May, 16 2004 @ 02:33 AM
Sure is excellent. This is a great read. You know what though, I would really like to see it in movie form, up on the screen. This is exciting! I like stories like this. You write a story very well. Similar to "Basic Instinct" except way more on the realistic, government level kind of detective story. Definitely would like to hear more. But then you may be in danger of having such a well written story stolen and turned into a movie. You should gaurd this one and develop it yourself!

posted on May, 16 2004 @ 02:55 AM
Well I have much more of it, and I plan on releasing perhaps the first complete episode. I originally wrote the thing to be watched, rather than read; however, I can't write in screenplay format very well... so here it is in prose.

Thanks for your comments.

posted on May, 17 2004 @ 07:35 AM
very nice story hawk very nice

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