Novel Treatments / First Dead Chapter 3
Pike woke the next morning, his head, and bladder aching and full. No more Sex In or On Anything’s. No more booze period, at least for a while, he vowed. He wasn’t eighteen anymore, as his liver had protested after the third frilly, umbrella drink.
Shifting carefully so not to wake Patty, Pike maneuvered from the bed and headed for the head. The weak sunlight filtering through the window suggested it was close to sunrise.
Pike’s favorite time of the day.
After pissing for what seemed like an hour, he journeyed to the galley and its only useful invention, the coffee maker. He pressed the coffee button and filled Killer’s bowl with a nutritious array of puppy chow. Chow the damn dog refused to eat. Since he’d rescued the dimwitted puppy from a Miami drug dealer, he’d eaten three things: Pike’s shoes, a light bulb, and Pup-peroni dog treats, which smelled like canned ass.
“Gekommen,” Pike commanded, and Killer, asleep inside a refrigerator box, woke and trotted toward him as ordered. “Good boy.” He patted his large, dumb head and motioned to the food bowl. He licked Pike’s hand, whined once, and peed on the floor at Pike’s feet.
Rough night for all of us, Pike thought.
Setting down a roll of paper towels on the mess, he grabbed a cup of coffee and headed outside to start the day. Since Pike’s early retirement/discharge from the Secret Service, his days consisted of hours spent blowing time, and diving.
His morning began with a limited Capoeira routine, the Brazilian street fighting technique that blended music and defense. When performed right, the fighter appears as if he is dancing, but could kill six opponents in less then thirty seconds.
Taking a deep breath, Pike let the chilled ocean air swirl around him, dragging the toxins from last night’s debauchery and Julia’s visit, from his body and mind.
Pike’s brain focused on breathing, deep, even breaths. Rhythmic breaths. Inside his head, a thick, Brazilian beat began. It grew until his body and mind became one with the tempo.
Pike’s legs kicked high into the air, slicing through the sunrise, and his arms wind milled in perfect precision to the music only he heard. Sweat pour from his body, puddling on the deck, mixing with the morning dew. He pushed, and pushed his body until numbness set in, and for a few seconds, complete clarity circled his mind.
Julia.
He’d vowed to protect her, to die for her, for his country. Job or not, that promise still held, even if she was stupid enough to marry Jefferson James Parker.
Breathing heavy, but feeling better than he had in days, Pike dialed the Jupiter Beach Resort. A woman answered, polite and cool at six in the morning.
“Julia Winslow’s room.” He waited while she connected him, tapping his foot to a Muzak rendition of Baby’s Got Back. When Julia finally answered, she sounded sleepy but beautiful.
“Morning Pike.”
He grinned. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Real people sleep until eight.” She paused. “Only an asshole like you would call this early.”
“Oh?” Pike laughed. “Jefferson’s not a morning guy like me, huh?”
“Jefferson’s nothing like you.” Her sigh burned through the phone line. “So you heard about our engagement?”
“Channels 5, 12, and 25.” He added, “Fox too. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Does it matter?”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Will you dive for me?” Through the crackle of phone static, it sounded as if she said die.
Pike cleared his throat, enunciating each word with care. “Yeah, I’ll dive for you.” He added, “But it’s a fifty-fifty split.”
“Good.”
If it was so good, why the hell did I feel like such a sucker, he wondered. “So when do you want me to go?”
“In a couple of days.” She paused. “I need to tie up a few loose ends before we take off.”
“We?”
“We,” she insisted.
“Fuck no.”
“Don’t be a baby.” Pike pictured her, arms crossed over her amble chest as she glared at the phone. He grinned at the image, and waited for her to continue. “We’re a team. Besides, you can’t dive alone. It’s too dangerous.”
He raised an eyebrow. Dangerous? As her bodyguard, he’d stopped three assignation attempts, beat up a bar full of bikers, married her, defied the president, served six months in prison for treason, and took a bullet in the kidney. And diving alone was too dangerous? He’d never understand her. At times, like now, Pike sure as hell didn’t care to. She was Jefferson’s problem now.
“I dive alone all the time,” he said to placate her.
“Not this time.”
“Forget it then.” Pike hung up, smiling. Less than twenty seconds later, his phone rang. He debated letting it go to voice mail, but decided a visit from six armed Secret Service agents wasn’t worth the childish pleasure.
“Hello?”
“Fine,” Julia huffed. “You win. Come to my suite at two, and I’ll give you a map to the location.”
“I don’t know....”
“Jerk.” A small laugh burst from her. “Two pm. Don’t be late, and for God’s sakes, wear something other than shorts.”
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It must be tough to write what a lot of other authors concentrate on; i.e., the Secret Service, President, Washington D.C. etc. I tried to read the story as I would one of the others I have in the same genre. I used Tom Clancy. Your story stood up well: appropriate characters, perfect personalities for the part and danger/intrigue. It will be interesting to see how you expand your characters so they stand out from others. Of course if you have other books with the same hero that will be hard to do. You write sparsely and might try being a mite more descriptive, at least at setting the scenes. Otherwise, I find it hard to say anything negative. You’ve got a winner! All you need is love, John.
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You do an amazing job of illuminating your characters’ personalities! I have already fallen in love with them. My biggest concern with this treatment is the grammatical mistakes, i.e. too many commas, disconnects between ideas from inappropriate spacing, and fragments, though as far as the fragments go, I do like a couple of them, specifically the ones pertaining to Pike’s thought processes. Let’s face it, we think in fragments. On a personal note, thank you for explaining the jargon for those of us that don’t know this type of material well enough to read sans explanation! I admit I am quite taken with this story, and can’t wait to read more!
I really enjoyed the chapter. I’ll have to go back and read the previous to catch up. I think you have an admirable amount of talent. Your dialogue has a very natural flow to it, and your narrative description is go too. It seemed clean for the most part as far as major typo’s, misspellings, and gramatical errors, but here are a few of the things I noticed:
Sweat pour from his body, puddling on the deck, mixing with the morning dew.
“pour” should be poured.
/> “Does it matter?”
I’m sure the symbol is a typo
“Jerk.” A small laugh burst from her. “Two pm. Don’t be late, and for God’s sakes, wear something other than shorts.”
This sentence dosen’t quite sound natural. Coming from a girl’s perspective, I’d leave off the first part, and start the sentence with 2 p.m.
Good luck, looking forward to reading more.
I still like this very much. Your dialogue is very good, and you dialogue tags (like “die” for “dive”) are imaginative. An enjoyable read.
The imperative command in German is “Komm!” If you want the dog to heel, you say “Bei Fuss!”
Proofreading notes:
wind milled = windmilled
Sweat pour = poured
If it was so good, why … (This is half in indirect speech, half in direct thought. The problem is with the pronoun “I” halfway through. I would change this to “he”.)
assignation = assassination ?
two pm = p.m.
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