Brought to you by IndieWriterSupport.com San Francisco Police undercover detective officer James White is a dedicated lawman man of 12 years. He is the best undercover detective San Francisco has ever had, but when given the chance to take out the most notorious kingpin in the world and make himself instant millions, James would not hesitate. With Taye (the kingpin) now dead, all incriminating evidence leads to James as the killer. The only problem is, how can anyone prove his guilt, and who is smart enough to expose his deep knowledge of the Nigerian criminal enterprise (the 419 scams) that had already ripped the United States of America of billions of dollars?

2. Chapter One
First day of work
The two most common things you'd have to get used to living in
San Francisco are the slanting streets and the wafting breeze.
Every day in the Bay area brings something new, but the rising
morning of March 8th brought nothing unusual except the gusty
wind from the Pacific Ocean. It was this wafting chill that woke
Paul Benton from his sleep, twenty minutes before his six a.m
alarm sound off.
Today would be the most important day of his life; the day
he'd become a Detective.
After waking up, Paul rolled over on the bed and kissed his
wife on the cheek. Then he prepared himself for work. Built like a
football star, with strong muscular cuts and a resplendent face,
Paul Benton could be taken for a fashion model rather than a
detective. His weekly low-trimmed haircut cost him twenty dollars
per visit, and none of his cloths aged over a year. After shaving off
the little hairs along his jawlines, he plucked the inside hairs of his
nostrils, and then put on his work garment. He checked his overall
look at the bathroom mirror; taking note of the crispy dark suit
and the well groomed figure within it. The perfect brown edging
alongside his hairline blended well with his caramel tan skin and
the overall softness of his face.
He corrected his neck-tie, donned his shoulder-trap pistol,
and then checked for the handcuffs locked to his side. The Stacy
Adams on his feet looked well-polished just as his gleaming
platinum watch, and his overall look this morning was dapper.
After all, today would be his first duty as a detective.
After leaving the bathroom, he kissed his wife once again
and headed out of the house.
Traffic in the early morning of San Francisco Bay was always
busy, but this was something the soon-to-be detective was already
used to. He was calm in his seat as he steadily cruised through the
slanting streets that merged into different curves and angles, and
passed the cable cars and short trains that rolled by. At 7:30 a.m,

3. half of San Francisco was already awake and roaming about.
Owners of different business outlets had already opened their
shops for business, and groups of early commuters were making
their ways to work.
A ten minutes detour to a donut shop gave Detective Benton
the belly warmth that he needed for the day before returning back
to the flow of traffic that soon slowed to a crawling speed. As time
steadily idled away Paul tuned the FM radio to 99.1 and listened to
the Disc Jockey as he announced the latest scoops in the city.
"Have you guys heard? This just came in. That Nigerian
Teflon Don Taye was found murdered in his bedroom last night,
with a single gun shoot to the head. And guess what, the detectives
don't have a clue to who did it. What do you guys think, call us in.
Our radio lines will be open for comments in a few minutes, but in
the meantime enjoy this new release from 50 Cent, 'Murder for
foes.'"
The 50 Cent music came on, and Paul raised the volume dial
on the stereo. A short moment later he was moving his head to the
reverberating beats, and by the time the rap song was over the
vehicle had only moved about two blocks on the street. He
continued listening to the Disc Jockey and the listeners'
comments.
"I don't think the police will ever find out who kill that guy,
just like Tupac and Biggie," one of the audiences commented.
"You see, that's exactly what I’m saying when I say America is
black and white. If you're black and powerful like Taye, the white
people, and I'm talking about their secretly police, will make sure
you're buried in dirt with a question mark, just like all the ones
before him," another audience commented.
"Oh common," the Disc Jockey replied, anointed.
"The state of California is after this guy’s head, so it
shouldn't be a surprise that they pay to have him offed."
"Common people, why is everybody on this guy's side. We are
talking about a guy that duped California out of half a billion
dollars, of your tax money." The Disc Jockey made his feelings
heard.
"I'm with Dan." Dan was the DJ's name. "I think Taye
deserved what happened to him. He scammed all that money but
he didn't really give back to the hood."
Paul was listening intently.

4. Taye was a powerful crime figure in San Francisco, until
yesterday. His name, his story, and picture had circulated out
through the state of California and some part of the nation.
"The question we all should be asking is, why wasn't this guy
deported back to where he came from if the State knew he was a
criminal?"
"That's because Taye is a diplomatic figure, with politicians
deep in his pocket."
And so the conspiracies continued on the radio as Paul
closed the gap toward his destination. The San Francisco police
headquarter was now less than three mile away, just outside the
west-side slums where the radio station, 99.1 F.M, is located. He
was listening to the murder report and the people’s feelings when
his phone suddenly rang.