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Unlawful Identity

So, it begins
Samantha Lange stared down at the man, hanging over the
side of the building. “Hold on,” she cried. “I’ve got you.”
“Don’t let go,” he cried.
“Kyle, don’t let go,” she cried.
“Sam, help me, please.”
“I won’t let you fallÈ” she tried with all her might but his hand
slowly slipped away. “Kyle!” she screamed as his body fell the ten stories
to the ground. Tears streamed down her face, as the door behind her
was kicked open.
“Don’t move!” he shouted. “FBI!”
Samantha slowly put her hands up and turned around. “I didn’t
do anything. I’m NYPD.”
“I know who you are, Detective. Put your hands behind your
back. You’re under arrest!” the man grabbed her arms and handcuffed
her wrists.
“What am I under arrest for?” she asked, as he put the gun that
was on the ledge in his pocket.
“Murder of an FBI informant,” he said, as he dragged her
towards the stairs.
“I didn’t kill Kyle. I swear, I didn’t kill my brother,” she cried, as
he and the other agent walked her down the ten flights of stairs.
She stared over at the tarp that covered Kyle’s broken and
battered body. “I’m sorry, Ky,” she cried, as the man shoved her into
the back seat of the car.
She stared out the window of the dark sedan as the coroner and
his assistants slowly lifted Kyle’s body on the gurney and placed him in a
dark van. She closed her eyes and relived that moment in her head.
Sam woke up when she heard a banging on her door. “Kyle, what’s wrong?”
“Sam, you have to help me. They’re after me.”
“Who?”
He hurried into her apartment. “The FBI. They want me.”
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