A couple of weeks ago I said I would post the first of a few excerpts from my novel “Beyond the Breaking Point”. It’s time I kept my promise. Here is excerpt one.
“I’ll look forward to seeing you at Mountain View Lisa Mc Cleary,” he smiled. Monty chatted with her for a minute longer before making his way to his car. He decided to take the stairway rather than the elevator to the lower level. Taking two steps at a time he reached the door to the parking area and pushed it open. Running to his car he was eager to get to the golf course where he hoped he could drive a few balls before the first lesson he was to give was scheduled.
He lowered the car’s window and was about to start the engine when he noticed one of the three men who had interviewed him, Jackson Stadler, the vice-president of electronic development and operations, exiting from the elevator. At the same time he heard car tires squeal, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw a black Cadillac bursting from around the parking level’s corner toward the elevator. Before he fully closed the car’s door and could start the engine four popping sounds rang out. That sounds like shots fired through a silencer, Monty thought. 
He froze. He pulled the car’s door that he had left slightly open slowly and careful closed not to make a sound and slid lower into his seat, but not so far that he could not see what took place in front of him. Instinctively, he reached for his camera lying on the floor on the passenger side. Monty saw the vice-president clutching at his chest briefly before dropping to the cement floor. Two men silently left their car. One was a heavy-set man with short cut graying hair. He looked like a wrestler to Monty. He walked with a slight limp Monty noted. The other one was tall and skinny and about fifty-five years old. He wore a short, groomed beard. They had stepped quickly from the vehicle. Both were dressed in dark overcoats and walked to the fallen man. Monty saw that they held handguns with silencers in their hand.
He heard the taller man say, “Looks like he’s not going to make any more trouble for Carlos or anybody else for that matter, Daryl.” Blood had begun to pool around the slain man’s body.
“Let’s make sure of it, Harry,” the shorter man replied with a snarl on his face. Another shot rang out from the gun held in the left hand of the heavy-set man.
Monty’s camera clicked away. He saw the tall fellow push one shiny black shoe under Jackson Stadler’s shoulder raising it a few inches off the ground. Then he heard him speak to the other man before the two turned quickly making their way to the idling car blocking the approach to the rest of the parking areas for incoming vehicles. They climbed into the car’s backseat unhurriedly. A moment later the car passed Monty’s vehicle on its way toward the exit as if nothing had happened. Through the open front side window of the Cadillac Monty saw a younger man with shoulder length blond hair seated behind the steering wheel. A long scar dominated his cheek, and he wore an earring with a 
black pendant of a hawk.
“Man, oh man,” Monty whispered trying to keep control of his nerves. His heart pounding he focused the camera on the leaving vehicle’s license plate and zoomed in on it. Without hurrying the driver of the black Cadillac passed out of view around a corner on the way out of the underground parking area. Monty waited for several more seconds. “I hope they didn’t see me,” he murmured. “I don’t think they’ll be back unless one of them did. But what do I do now?”
Dazed by what he had witnessed in the previous minutes he slowly left his Mustang. He walked to the executive lying unmoving on the ground in front of the elevator. A pool of blood had formed around the upper part of the man’s body and a trickle of blood still ran from the back of his head. A wound in the middle of Stadler’s forehead stared at Monty. He noticed an empty shell near where he stood. “This looks really bad,” Monty mumbled and thought he had heard his words echo back to him. He stooped to take the man’s pulse, but found none. Mechanically he dialed 911. “A man’s just been shot,” he answered the questioning voice and supplied the address where he was and all other details the female on the other end wanted to know.
Seated in his car again he waited for the police to arrive. He rested his head on the steering wheel trying to make sense of what had occurred in front of him. Soon he heard sirens rushing closer. Suddenly he remembered that he had to be at the golf course at noon. Looking at the car’s clock he said under his breath, “I’ve got less than ninety minutes.”
Books and banter by W.H.Manke 