Florida Sun

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Teamwork is the power that allows common people to produce uncommon results” Rick Hendrick

Mike walked through Main Street USA. It was like a beehive with hundreds of people bustling around, moving in and out of stores and restaurants. Faces looking places, cameras clicking, shoes occasionally clicking off the hot asphalt ground.But he was looking at just one lowly scared face.

 Mike Piazza was a cop who spent more money on guitars and Beatles then on food. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, sweat already starting to bead down the back, jeans, Converse, and sun glasses. Behind those glasses were blue eyes that were focused on one man in a crowd of many. Andrew Hernandez. A drug dealer.

Mike eased his way through the crowd, pulling his phone out of his pocket and changing the song to “Hey Jude”. Swiftly sneaking the mp3 back in his pocket and putting his head down, he continued to follow his face down the bustling, crowded, New York City like street.

The man quickly changed his direction, heading to the Plaza Restaurant. He chose an outside table away from everyne else.  Mike followed him and took a seat a few tables behind. Shooing away the geese, Mike sunk down into the chair, put his feet up on the table and closed his eyes, losing himself in emotion. Exactly what Alan told him never to do. Never show it, never get lost in it.

He listened to everything and took it all in. A women calling for her child, the panic starting to edge in her voice. A kid crying over a toy he can’t have and a dad telling him he is spoiled. A man arguing with his wife in a language Mike couldn’t understand. So much to think about. So much to get lost in.

It had been a year since drug dealers killed his parents by accident, but he still felt a seering hatred towards all of them. He would never tell his boss this, but he wanted to kill them all. Every. Last. One.

Mike could feel his eyelids starting to twitch as a lump of anger the size of a basketball grew in his throat. In his mind he saw his parents, bleeding out in his hands. He saw their blood in his hands making them sticky. As he sat, he felt them getting sticky again, the anger building to the size of a car tire.   

“Can I get you something sir?” A deep voice interrupted.  

Mike opened his eyes and looked up. He was staring at a tall, strong, dark skinned waiter. “A coke and a Sig” he replied putting his hands in front of him to see if there was no blood.

“And how would you like your sig sir?” the waiter asked smiling.

“Chip’s special,” Mike said. “And a grilled cheese and bacon double please”

“Sure thing,” the waiter said walking away mumbling to himself, "He actually said please?" 

Mike closed his eyes again, waiting, and pondering what he was going to do. As he opened his eyes and weighed his options a very attractive blond waitress, who Mike swore he knew, came over.

“Your Coke sir,” She said leaning over, to place it down and in the process, grabbing Mike’s attention away from everything else. She was wearing a black tank top and dark skinny jeans under her apron.

“Thank you” Mike managed to get out. She then handed him a stuffed Mickey Mouse. “Do I have to tip you?” he asked.

She winked at him and walked off with Mike’s gaze following every step. When she went inside he shook his head and focused his attention to the toy. He looked it over twice, sucked in his lips, and tugged on the right ear. The Mickey ripped in half to reveal a gun.

Mike picked it up and put it in the back of his jeans. Then he stood up, taking his Coke with him. Adjusting his shades, he walked over to where Andrew was sitting.