The Midnight Crew. Clyde Daniels didn t expect anything that just happened. Every day for the past

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1 Jaedon H. Literature and Composition February 19, 2018 The Midnight Crew Clyde Daniels didn t expect anything that just happened. Every day for the past year, ever since he got his job as a news reporter was the same thing over and over again. His company focuses on small stories like roadblocks and icy streets to avoid. But he never reported outside his home state of Colorado. Never. In fact, before he signed with Triple N they told him not to expect anything important. Clyde only signed with Triple N because reporting is what he absolutely loved doing. He never wanted to leave what he knew to travel halfway across the country just for his job. He wouldn t have even signed up if he knew what was going to happen to him. It was enough to send him to a padded room in a straitjacket. Only Clyde knew the whole story of what happened to him. Of course, whoever reads this will also know. But Clyde Daniels is the only one who experienced what happened. Clyde was sitting on a musty old rocking chair that he got from a store in downtown Denver called Finest Furniture. Clyde thought about suing, but decided against it, seeing as he was a simple man, and didn t want to get caught up in the court. Everyone in his suburb knew him. Everyone in his suburb liked him. Everyone in

2 his suburb knew when he went missing. Clyde was turning the page to the police report section in his newspaper when he heard someone knocking at the door. Coming! Clyde unwillingly got up out of his chair to see who was knocking on his door at this time of night. Clyde reached out and grasped the cold doorknob with his hand, but he didn t even have to pull. The door opened very abruptly and a tall man, maybe around 6 3 walked in the door. Good evening Mr. Daniels. I hope I did not intrude on your, erm, important evening work. No, no, quite alright. The only thing I ask is your name and why you are here. you obviously already know my name, although I am not quite sure how. Oh, yes, how rude I have been. My name is Inspector Richard Williams. I work for the police department in Brooklyn, New York. I am here on urgent matters. You see, At this point Clyde had been waiting to speak, and couldn t any longer. Wait, wait, I beg you wait. Have I done anything wrong? I need to know if I need to call my lawyer or not. Mr. Williams chuckled to himself. He knew that Clyde was a modest man, and he didn t have a lawyer. He decided not to point this out, to save pride. No, Mr. Daniels, you don t need to do anything. You have done nothing wrong. Rather you have done something quite right. But, please, no more interruptions. My time here is running short, Clyde nodded and let the inspector speak. I don t see how else

3 to say what I am about to say. I have to be blunt. Mr. Daniels, you work for Triple N, am I right? Clyde nodded again, but said nothing. Yes, just as I thought. Mr. Daniels, Triple N is not a news reporting company. Ah ah! No talking please! Let me finish. Triple N has been trying to get rid of you for a long time. They pose as a news reporting company. Behind the scenes, they pay a secret group of assassins called the Midnight Crew. Now, if I m not mistaken, they have just offered you a trip to Europe am I right? Mmm hmm, it s just as I feared. They are taking you there, to be frank, to, erm, get rid of you. The whole time Inspector Richard was talking, Clyde was standing against the wall. When Mr. Williams told him about the Midnight Crew, Clyde fell onto his new rocking chair. It was a while until he spoke, but when he finally gathered up the courage to speak he asked a simple question. Why me? Clyde s voice cracked. His hands were shaking. They believe you to be a threat. Why they believe this I don t know. However, now is the time I have to leave you alone with your thoughts. Please, don t go to Europe. And with that last nugget of wisdom, Inspector Richard Williams left Clyde alone. After throwing up in the master bedroom toilet, Clyde decided to go back downstairs to pretend nothing had happened. He flipped to the police section in his newspaper when he heard a knocking at the door. Not again. He muttered to himself. He walked up to open the door. He walked

4 over to the door, ready for Mr. Williams to tell him something he forgot. Clyde swung the door open. The next thing he knew was a cloth covering his nose and mouth and then everything went dark. When Clyde woke up, he couldn t see anything. The first thought he had was that he was dead, but he figured against it. He pretended to still be sleeping to see if he could find out where he was. So you re awake, A deep growling voice that sounded a bit too close for comfort spat out these words as if they were venom. I don t try to understand why the boss chose you of all people to meet, but I d rather go with what he says then fight against it. The man chuckled as if he had just told a really funny joke. Where am I? Are you going to kill me? Clyde asked, trying to sound braver than he really felt. The growling voice responded with contempt, as if he hated Clyde. He probably did. Right now we are currently above the Atlantic Ocean. Flying to the Black Islands. Clyde knew the world map by heart and he knew there was no such thing as the Black Islands. Unless, they were unmapped for a reason. This made sense that a secret group of assassins would own a string of islands that were unmapped. The plane landed on a long strip of run down grasses that looked as if it was used to planes taking off and landing regularly. At first when Clyde stepped off the plane, his

5 blindfold was yanked off and the glaring sun blinded his eyes. It was all he could do to not scream out in surprise. Clyde s hands were forced behind his back and tied up. He was required to walk to a building that looked like it was a mausoleum. The chilling thought went through his mind that it was probably was. A minute later Clyde was shoved down in front of man wearing a mask. Clyde could swear the mask smiled as he looked at him. Welcome Clyde Daniels. I hope your flight was enjoyable. Did you get any sleep? Look, all I want to know is who you are and why I am here. And then I want to go home. You can call me Triple N. Clyde s head snapped up as soon as he said these words. Could it be? This could be his chance to escape. He had to play it cool. Have we met? I m afraid your voice sounds familiar. Clyde asked. Triple N chuckled. No. I can assure you we haven t met. If we had already met, you d be dead. Clyde shuddered at the thought. But your voice. It sounds like a man I once met. Possibly just one or two nights ago? Triple N looked around. He looked nervous. No no, maybe the anesthesia in the cloth is messing with your memory. No, I can say for certain that we haven t met. I say. Aha! Now I know who you are! You are Inspector Richard Williams! I knew I

6 heard your voice somewhere! Enough! Guards take this man away. Do with him as you please. But when Triple N turned back around, Clyde was gone. Clyde was running down to the plane to try to take off and save his life. He had never run so fast in his life. Then again, he had never run for his life before. There was only one problem with his plan of escape. He couldn t fly a plane. The plane was sitting maybe one hundred yards from where Clyde was standing. Fueled with a chance of escape, Clyde pushed himself to go faster. The airplane s gas had already been re-loaded, for it was a small plane. Clyde knocked down a man that was standing in his way. The plane was now at fifty yards. Forty. Thirty. A gunshot went off. The sound was deafening. What s worse is that these goons knew how to use guns. The backside of Clyde s thigh started to bleed out profusely. The bullet just grazed the side of his leg, but it burned. Clyde yelled in surprise, and fell to the ground. He was motivated. Clyde slowly got up and continued to limp to the plane that was now sitting at ten yards away. Every step was the more painful than the last. Finally, Clyde s hand grasped the handle of the plane door to pull himself to safety. The next few moments felt hopeless. The door was locked. Gunshots were firing everywhere. There was now a bullet wound in his left shoulder to complement the one on his leg. With every last bit of strength that Clyde could muster up, he broke the window using the back of his left hand. The pain was excruciating. Clyde pulled himself in through the window and into

7 the plane s cockpit. Triple N was running down to try to shoot down the plane before it took off. Clyde turned the key that was luckily in the ignition. The plane jumped to life. Clyde was winging it. Bad pun. Clyde maneuvered the plane in a position to take off. It started off slowly, then moved into a full on run to the sky. A second before he had liftoff, Clyde felt a slight resistance on the right side of the plane. Then he was in the sky. The wind was blowing in through the broken window very harshly. Clyde started to feel the plane losing altitude as soon as he crossed over the ocean. Triple N was hanging onto one of the landing skis that was used for water landings. Clyde saw this and tried to shake him off. The main reason Triple N was still a problem was that there was a handgun in its holster. Clyde opened the door on the right side. The door slammed straight into Triple N s face and he started the deadly plummet into the Atlantic Ocean. Clyde closed door and breathed a sigh of relief. Clyde Daniels promised himself never to go on any life threatening trip ever again. One week later, after intensive conversations with police officers and having get well gifts take up almost his whole hospital room; Clyde was permitted to go home. Mr. Daniels closed the door behind him and took two deep breaths. He walked over to his new rocking chair and sat down. He took his new newspaper and flipped open to the police section. He read:

8 Breaking News A brave reporter named Clyde Daniels who worked for Triple N before retiring, get home safely from a dangerous abduction to a newly mapped string of islands name the Black Islands. Inspector Richard Williams was found dead, washed up on the shore of the newly acquired Black Islands. Moreover, we are glad that Mr. Clyde Daniels is safe and at home.