Foster Lewis: Mr. no sh*t

I woke up to the sound of Radio One. Chris Moyles was being hilarious and I had a hangover. Yeah Chris you're really effing funny today. I checked the time on my radio clock. Twelve midday. I rolled my eyes and scratched the bristling of stubble on my chin. Perhaps I'd grow myself a beard. Really don't have the time for shaving between drinking eating and sleeping. Typical English sunlight streamed through the curtains, watery and uninspiring. Still not too good for my eyes. I probably shouldn't be drinking so heavily at my age but hey, I'm not twenty anymore and I missed out on the party scene when I had the chance. Guess I'm just making up for lost time. What happened to my life? I'm almost forty and what have I achieved? At least I still had all my hair and none of it was grey yet. I was awfully fond of my rich brown locks. Vanity was one of my many failings. Along with everything else that had failed in my life. Goes to show that when you stop paying attention life just passes you right on by.

My phone had a message. Well maybe that girl I vaguely remember from last night really did like me. Too much to hope for. Though the message was quite intriguing in itself.

Foster, it's been a long time. It's Harry. How is life treating you? What have you been up to these past few years? I can tell you that you wouldn't even recognise me from the days when you were the new guy. Weren't those good times eh Sherlock? Anyway listen, I have a favour to call in...

Well, well, well. Harold Richards calling in a favour from me. Must have been ten years since I'd been part of SCIT. He'd been the old team leader along with the others and without a doubt my best friend. Well he had been at the time. I remembered the day I'd rocked up on my student moped at 19 to my first case. They gave me the 'new guy' once over and introduced themselves nicely. It had been Harry who had started the thing of calling me Sherlock. I had been the young British one and ever eager to impress I had shown off my flair. My manner of being very intense and to the point when I got to the investigation coined me the nickname Mr. no sh*t Sherlock.

I've got a new team together but this case has gone a bit haywire. We've had a gunpoint murder and an attempt on the lives of our unit. I'll fill you in on the more precise details later, but most importantly my daughter is part of the unit. I can't risk her getting hurt. I know she's intelligent and resourceful but she's inexperienced. I could really use someone with your brilliance on this case just to keep an eye on her and the other newbies. Besides, you're someone I know I can trust.

Trust? Yeah right. After what you pulled trust is the last thing that should be running between us. Got some nerve Harry asking me to come back into SCIT to babysit the newbies after what happened with our last team.

You'll be paid in full for the job. I've already booked you plane tickets to come over. The team are headed for Michigan, you'll rendezvous with them at the airport and get the full brief from them. The plane leaves at seven AM. Sorry, that's seven US time. I can never remember the time difference but you'll work it out. Anyway it's good to have you back. You know there's always a place here for you at SCIT. I'll hope to hear from you once you land at Michigan. Have a good flight. Harry.

Cocky son of a- Speaking as if it's a guarantee that I'll be going and getting me on a flight without me even agreeing. Tch. 'Good to have me back' indeed. Though he was offering a full paid job and I wouldn't be seeing the kinda money I'd get at SCIT anywhere else. Jeeez. Maybe one case wouldn't hurt. And to be honest I kinda missed being out there, doing what I do best. Damn Harry. Knew there was no way I'd turn him down. Whatever. What time did he say that plane was? Seven AM USA time so that's six hours behind which means my plane leaves at One. My clock read 12:15. The airport was about forty five minutes away. I swore to myself and leapt out of bed, already starting to cram my essentials into a rucksack. Right Harry, this mess you're getting me into had better be worth the trouble.

The End

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