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Fiction
Complicity Part 1 (5/5)
By Nick Quantrill
(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5).

'With that in mind Richard, Neil and I have arranged a meeting for you with Simon Gale from ERDAG this afternoon. We thought it'd give you a feel for some of the specific problems that we're facing. Unfortunately, the local newspaper has arranged to be present, as they're not missing out on their pound of flesh. I would have gone myself but I have uncancellable meetings arranged. However, I do feel it is important that we have a senior presence on this one. Are you aware of ERDAG's work?'
'Vaguely, 'East Riding Drugs Awareness Group', they operate a drug awareness centre on Wright Street?'

'That's right. Gale is the director of the centre.
They educate youngsters on the dangers of drug use. Apparently, we've worked with them on educational programmes in the past. Obviously Mr Gale is very keen that we find the people responsible for this tragedy.'
'I'm sure such a tragedy is a valuable opportunity for him to highlight, via the local press, the work that his centre is doing.'
McCormack glared at Coleman.
'That'll be all for now Richard.'
Coleman returned to his office with a headache. He wanted a progress report from Maynard, but he was still interviewing Ryan Stutt. He poured himself a coffee and reflected on the meeting with McCormack. He wasn't happy. It wasn't that he had more than enough work to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to bring the people responsible for selling the drug that killed Laura to justice. It hadn't come out right; of course he cared about teenagers dying from drugs, he cared about anybody who died from a drugs overdose, regardless of whether they were thrill-seeking or looking for oblivion.
He was deeply unhappy about drug dealing in the city, but he knew that where there was demand, there was always going to be supply. It was the new initiative that angered him. It angered him because he knew he was being lined up to take any potential blame sometime down the line, yet it was more than that. It was the sheer fucking pointlessness of the operation. It was nothing more than a sop to the public by senior officers who clearly lacked a perspective on the reality of the situation.

A clampdown on the dealers in the city centre would, at best, net a few low-level dealers. The men behind them were much cleverer. It would take more than a hastily thrown together police operation to bring them down. The local press would report on any clampdown as a great triumph, the public would be suitably reassured that their streets were being kept drug free, and the likes of McCormack would receive their due reward. He threw on his raincoat. He had an appointment to keep at ERDAG.

© 2006 Nick Quantrill
Continued on www.thisisUll.com...... Part 2.

Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 13 By Rich Mills
From: "audioally" To: "Black Star" Subject: BASF C90 tape transcribed and identified Date: 28 Nov 2040 12:09:06 Hello there, Thanks for the opportunity to investigate the origins of the BASF C90 tape that you forwarded onto me. As I understand you found this in an open box with other items, it hasn't been too badly damaged by the elements and Read more...

Fiction - Zero and the Neighbours Part 1 - Demo version 0.1
By Joe Hakim
Frank was one of the regulars. From the first day I started dealing poker on the tables, Frank was there. To look at, he was your typical moody old man - old in the Father Christmas sense - white hair, a huge white beard and a round gut that hung out of his shirt and over his belt. You could imagine him sat in a grotto in the bottom of Princes Quay with some mewling Read more...

Fiction - Just like Eddie by Bob Spence
I don't know exactly when I got into it but there you are. Like most lads, I suppose it was the thought of being Bristol's answer to Elvis that was some kind of inspiration. Yes that was always there in the back of my mind, but the accent never sounded quite right to be fair. Anyway. The South Deans Village Youth Club was a right place back then and we used Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 11 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
We waited standing back to back, hoping this would give us some protection. The tribesmen slowly circled us, just as they would when attacking a wagon train of settlers on its way to California. Well, this is what my novel said they did. Occasionally, a warrior would prod one of us. One snatched a hair from George's head before rushing back within the group to display his strange booty. Read more...

Fiction - The Wall by Darren Sant
Sometimes your best is just not enough. Panic stricken and panting I arrive. There it is, a fucking huge wall. An obstacle blocking my progress. A visible representation of all that I can't achieve. Nervously I look behind me. I lash out at it, kicking and punching but to no avail. It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump Read more...

Fiction - Divine by Blair Ashworth
"Mein Führer? Mein Führer?" The old man in the long grey coat was bent over the body slumped in the chair. "Give it a few more seconds, Henry," said the doctor. "Do you speak any German? It might lessen the shock." No, Henry didn't speak any German and he didn't much care about any shocks he might deliver. Behind the heavy oak chair, Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 10 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
'So how are we gonna get in?' George kicked a loose stone across the street. 'We've got to circle the camp and look for a weakness in their defences. That's what Buffalo Bill would do.' I was not certain what my hero would do, but I thought my scheme had the right sound to it. 'Aye, but it's Buffalo Bill we're wanting to attack. Read more...

Fiction - Scissors, Paper, Stone! By Bob Spence
The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither. Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every Read more...

Fiction - Drowning, Swimming By Joe Hakim
Keith sat and stared at his wife, who was holding his daughter and staring at the 28" Philips Widescreen TV situated in the corner of his house, on his laminate floor, flanked at either side by his Sony sound system and his X-Box. He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend Read more...

Fiction - Any Instructions? By Denis Price
It wasn't the first time he'd missed the bus. From the Mess to the monitoring hangar was only a quarter of a mile walk, something he relished during the central European summer as the airbase had been carved out of heavily wooded countryside teeming with wildlife. Read more...

Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Ten By Steve Rudd
As the sun rose, so did my spirits. The men before me were all aged and seemingly wise. You could just tell that all three of them had been born in this valley, and had all lived and worked there ever since. If any, or all, of them genuinely believed in a heaven, then it wouldn't be an, other-worldly place delighted by harp-twanging angels. Read more...

Fiction - Second Chances by Nick Quantrill
Available now, Second Chances is a crime fiction novella set in Hull that is already attracting praise from readers. Influenced by crime fiction heavyweights Ian Rankin and Hull's Robert Edric, Second Chances is set to be a great success. For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available Read more...

Fiction - Invasion By Bob Spence
Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar and the coarse material was driving him to distraction. You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancee and there was none. Read more...

Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend
By Bob Spence
Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton. Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well. It was orderly and everything clearly had its place. Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it Read more...

Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you? I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it. It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral. Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why. It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a Read more...

Fiction - Firm but Fair By Mark Pollard
Cry-Baby Jim Breaks. He pioneered it, they say. And the hushed, almost ecclesiastical tones of Ken Walton had heralded it's entry into Saturday afternoon folklore: the bright lights of Blackpool and Great Yarmouth, down to the lesser reputes of Ilfracombe and Skegness had all borne witness Read more...

Fiction - Puzzles By Denis Price
I've got a really nice room, when the door's closed I feel ever so safe and warm. It's quiet as well, just the swish of the wind in the trees outside. I like the trees; they hide the big tall fence. My watchers say the fence is there to keep me safe, and that's their job too, they're always there Read more...

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