Friday rolled around quick, especially because James did not need a job anymore. He lived off the profit of Melvin’s business. How else would he be able to afford a large house, a large garage, and be able to remodel it all?
His brother got lucky between James and Melvin he would think to himself. He was the one who was most experienced with mechanical stuff and that was important during the war. Melvin started off as a manager for speed services, they created war planes during the World War and slowly he rose from the low paying and became the owner and me made the company flourish and have more profit than they had ever experienced. James on the other hand worked as a mechanic for them. He worked in the assembly lines creating planes that would be used for murder all for a "better cause". When Melvin died the right to the business went to James, and James now had to run the company. It was difficult because the business had to adjust to the war being over and they had to make civilian planes.
It was almost eight and James decided he best get ready for the dinner. He showered, shaved combed his hair put on some decent clothes. He had to leave early because Vince lived downtown and that was almost a twenty minute drive. He went out to his car, one of the few things he enjoyed. He had a 1940 ford coupe that he had customly lowered to the ground and he chopped( he made the roof lower). Chopping was a new thing that made cars stand out from the standard ones. It gave people a sense of style when they saw. The color was a deep glossy green and and the interior was leather. Everything had been customized to a sharp extent. Stuff like that was hard to come by, uncommon and that car was his pride and joy. The appreciation and effort of that kind of work was very rare and priceless. 
James sped through the streets staying just under the speed limit as he rushed to Vince's house. When he got there he rung the doorbell and a few seconds later Sheila, Vince’s wife and one of James childhood friends opened the door and they greeted each other cheerfully and warmly. He took a seat on their leather couch.
“How are you Joe? It’s been a while,” she said warmly. For a split second James remembered how he got the nickname “Joe Kool”, which was what his friends called him. He had told everyone when he was a young boy that he wanted his name to be Joe Kool and everyone stuck with it except for his parents of course, who called him by his full name.
“I  have been doin’ pretty well it’s difficult running Speed but other than that there hasn’t been much else, how have you been these past couple weeks?” James replied. “I’ve been doing well I’ve been busy with young Bertha and Bobby,” she replied as she sat down and relaxed in her chair. Just then Vince came in and James and Vince greeted cheerfully. Vince was a short chubby man who moved from New York when he was a young boy and they had been friends ever since. He worked as part of the police in SD and he has been giving James information on the investigation of his brothers death ever since. Even though he wasn't really supposed too. Sheila cooked some of her delicious lasagna while Vince and James talked. They all ate dinner and had a good meal. Than the kiddies went to sleep and at around ten it was just Vince and his wife and james at the table.
"Well let's break out the whisky, I need to unwind after this week" he said excitedly as he pouring a drink.
"Sure," James giggled as he watched him.
"There's new information on the investigation," Vince whispered. At that moment all was still and James replied in a quiet voice, "Keep going."
"The killer's family is believed to be San Francisco, we are trying to contact them but so far we haven't had any luck, and we just found Boris’s last known whereabouts but he disappeared a couple days ago. It looks like he is on his way to San Francisco" Vince spoke. James stares hard at the small scratch on the table, trying to contain his emotion.
     “You should leave it alone and let the investigators handle it,” Vince pleaded
“Sure I’ll leave it alone,” James promises. “I knew I had to lie, even to my closest friend,” whispers a small voice in the back of my head.
“Thanks for doing that,” Vince replied looking a little less worried.
“Sure thing,” is what James wanted to say back to him but he doesn’t, and they leave it at that. The rest of the night is a blur as they catch up and have a good couple of laughs and pretty soon James finds himself speeding home with the rumble of the engine being the only thing you can hear under the glistening moonlight.

James thought a lot about the decision he was about to make, it was like an angel and a demon on each side of his shoulders constantly arguing about what James should do.
The angel would whisper, "Joe, let the police deal with it, they know what to do, they will find him and bring him  to justice. It's best you do not get into things you're not supposed to."
The demon would creep into his ear and hiss at him, "Do what you want, you know what you want. Deep down stop trying to hide it! Find that dirty rat Boris and kill him who cares what happens he killed your brother and that will cost him his life." It sent a great feeling of rage through him every time he heard that.
     So that great debate lasted before the “demon” in him finally took over and one night he broke and the the angel and the good in him was beaten by hate and pain. He packed his bags and took a suitcase full of money in case he needed it, it was a couple thousand dollars which was enough to last. He wrapped up his M1911 around a clean white cloth and he hid it in the glove compartment in the dashboard of his car. He packed his coupe and lastly left a note for the next in line of Speed Co, Benjamin Levins, it said for him to run the place while he was gone.
    Off he went, listening to the quiet rumble of the engine as he drove towards Old Town, then he drove onto California State Route 101 it would take him up the coast of California and he would slowly start his search for Boris Sider. He planned to stop search for him in all the major cities on the west coast, Anaheim, Long Beach, Los Angeles, Burbank, Ventura, than up to Santa Maria, Santa Cruz, Oakland and finally San Francisco.
“This is gonna be difficult but it doesn't matter I will find him and he will pay, the police can lie and say they are investigating and it is under control, but it is obvious they can not do this, they're too busy with dealing with San Diego not to mention the gangs forming down there," he thought to himself frustratingly, "They will find out what I am doing eventually but no one will stop me. I will tell them I am just taking a nice trip up the coast to wind down and relax for now,” he thought to himself.
The glossy color of the coupe was radiant and gleaming under the gloomy moon which made for a very calm scene as he flipped on the radio. James hadn’t really been keeping track of the days,  he found that it was January 13 already and he got caught up and listened to the news
He listened about how Military Leader General George Marshall rose from the bottom of the chain of command and was now elected as the third Secretary of State of the United States of America, one of the big jobs. They talked about how he was Chief of Staff before the war and he led a special mission to China after the war happened. He also listened about how the Greek steamer "Himara" hit a wartime mine in Saronic Gulf south of Athens with 392 out of 637 people killed. "Nasty stuff," he thought to himself.
He thought about war and he thought about how nasty it was. The thoughts that went through those poor people's minds right before they were killed, what would their families think? They couldn't do anything about it. They were just as helpless as James was when his brother and parents were killed.
He wondered, "how much blood must be spilled before we realize that it's all pathetic and useless, there is no point to war, just a bunch of people wanting attention and who think that they are right, and they are willing to hurt people to prove it." "Don't think like that," he muttered to himself as he kept his eyes on the road. The lights of the coupe shown gloomily on the road as only 2 or 3 other cars were there keeping pace with him but eventually he passed them. He switched the radio to some of this new "Jazz stuff" and listened to it to pass the time. It soothed him the hush of it made him relax very nicely as he watched the road.
Eventually he got really sleepy and could not focus on driving anymore he pulled over for the night. He took an exit off the 101 and stopped at this nice little hotel in the middle of nowhere called "the Haven", it was a deep blue with the paint obviously faded it looked like it had been there since the 20's. He met the lady in there and she seemed very nice but at first was tired and seemed nervous from having to work graveyard shift. He got a room and decided to stay there just for the night. He laid in the bed and looked on the map and saw that he would be in Los Angeles tomorrow. He was a couple miles out from Anaheim. He was on the long stretch of nothing right now, about an hour more of driving and the first part of his journey would be coming to an end.
James got a good nights rest and woke up very late in the day, it was about 11 when he woke up. He rushed to get ready he had a nice breakfast-lunch downstairs which consisted of eggs and bacon. As he checked out he had a very world changing talk with the lady.
"I'm sorry bout the lil girl from last night," the lady said in a very sorry tone.
"Why's that?" he replied smiling and wondering what she was about to say.
"Well she is new here and she hadn't worked the bad shifts a lot but she was nervous Cuz there was a man that came in a couple days ago we have him a room and in the mornin after he left we found out that we had fed and took care of that killer, "Boris Sider".
James looked at her in wide eyes and whispered, "How do you know this?"
"Well after he left my son here fetched me a newspaper and we saw the photo of him, heck we didn't have time to notify the police but he left in a rush," the lady answered.
"Thanks well I must be goin now, thanks for this information you have helped me a lot" he shouted quickly as he rushed to his car and sped off.
He had a pang of nervousness and excitement as he realized he was only a couple days of Boris's trail and that filled him with confidence. He sped fast keeping just under the speed limit as he zoomed past all the cars swerving in front of them and at the same time keeping an eye out for highway patrol.

James spent the whole day driving through the bustling city of Los Angeles. After a day of driving night fell quickly and he got tired and decided to take a break. He parked in one of the suburbs, he couldn't find any trace of Boris but he was not surprised this whole area had grown since after the war and James did not really go down there a lot. During the war.  That area became a major hotspot for naval warfare and most of the ships were being built and sent out from there because it was the biggest port city on the west coast of the United States. He went through Burbank, Anaheim, Long Beach, and Los Angeles. Before the war him and his parents and brother would go to Los Angeles to see his extended family and they would stay at their grandmas house. Her house was a nice homely place that had been there for about almost 100 years, unfortunately his grandma died during the depression and the bank took her house and looters and thieves managed to get into it and destroyed everything they could.
      Him and his family would start off their day with either having eggs and bacon from their grandmas or by going to "Aunt Claire's Pancake House" and they would have a nice big breakfast on a Sunday morning. After that they would go to the park and be free and run around. James remembered his Mom and his Dad smiling at him and his brother as the sunlight shown radiant and luscious right behind them, that image was kept in his head permanently, it was one of the few good things that he remembered. After enjoying the park for the day they would all go back to his grandmas and they would have dinner, she would cook a nice juicy delicious steak and season it salty and juicy with a savory juice coming up, than they would cozy up next to a blazing fire and James would remember falling a sleep in his mothers arms.
           The depression had hit them hard it wiped out most of his family, that was the reason his parents died. They were on a merchant ship because they had been fired from their old jobs and it was the only job he could get that excepted people like them. Than war got in the way and the Japanese bombed them and sunk them, they were part of 58 who died that night. The worst part about it was that him and his parents had just gotten in an argument and he could not remember what it was about. But he knew it over something so pathetic and not even worth it. He never even got a chance to apologize and say how much they meant to him. In their last moments before they died they would think that he thought that they didn't mean anything to him and that's what made him how he is today.
      James got back on track, he got lost in his thoughts, churning up old memories that were not meant to be brought up. His reason was to find Boris, not go on a pity trip, he was not some soft little boy that cried about everything. All that thinking made him hungry. He pulled up to a diner called Sharpe Diner, it had one of those new fancy neon signs that flashed brilliantly and made it attractive. He walked in and the waitress seated him at a booth and asked what he wanted to drink.
     "May I have a beer," he asked politely.
     "Sure hold on one sec that'll be a dollar," she replied cheerfully.
     He forked over the dollar and she left and came right back with a cold mug. He sipped it and it refreshed him.
     "What would you like to eat sir?" She grinned cheerfully at him.
     "I'll have a burger with a side of fries," he replied.
     "That will be 1.50," she said as she took the money from James.
     10 minutes later she came back with a burger and fries, she set it down and he ate there. The night was gloomy and it started raining, slowly then all at once. The light of the restaurant made for a gloomy evening. There was a policemen that walked up and down the streets with his windbreaker and a beating stick in his hands, he could see the gun at his side. There was a couple sitting over at the bar laughing and talking. He finished his food and said goodbye and thanked them for the food. He walked out into the midnight rain and stood there for a second shading himself from the rain, the smell of asphalt and rain rose everywhere and he walked toward his car being careful not to get water on his leather seats. The sound of the rain hitting everything made it ominous. This was James favorite weather, he layed back in his seat and listed to it for a couple minutes before he started the car. He drove to another hotel called the Hilton and he got another room and looked at his map again, he figured that Boris was nowhere to be found here so he would keep on moving north. He also decided he would stop by his home Ventura and then keep moving. He lay back in his bed with the pitter patter of the rain and the deep boom of the thunder and the bright flash of lightning make him drift off into one of his deep sleeps.

James woke up with a jolt of cold sweat, he showered and got dressed and had a nice home made breakfast which consisted of pancakes. Than he checked back out and started his car and filled up his tank at the gas station. James got back on the road getting back on the 101 as he left Los Angeles. He knew Boris was now long gone from south California. He also figured Boris would probably be heading up north. If only the police had this information, they wouldn't be going round and round in circles having dead leads. If only Vince had listened to him. They wouldn't be stuck down there picking at the bones and they would actually be doing stuff.
     The weather was cloudy like usual and it just started raining with a light sprinkle, than a hard rain with lightning and thunder that lasted the whole trip to Ventura, he took the exit off the 101 and drove on the familiar streets and rolled right into his usual parking spot, it had been a routine before his brother died. His house was white with the edges painted a baby blue, his lawn was dead but hopefully the rain could fix that.
      He unlocked the old door and it creaked open, everything was how it was when he left which was a surprise because he would usually expect it to be trashed and robbed. He walked over to the old table, set his coat there and his stuff on the dusty table. He opened the window and let the fresh breeze blow in and the smell of concrete and rain flow into his house. He walked over to his bed and fell onto it, throwing dust everywhere. He missed his sweet bed. He missed the morning dew and the heavy fog roll in when it was morning. If there was one thing he learned this year was that there was no place like home. James was sore from driving, the cushiony leather seats had a different feel after sitting in the car for hours each day. The hum of the engine went on endlessly. He crawled and moved around in his bed until he was in a comfortable position and laid thought about everything that was uncomfortable about the trip so far until he fell asleep.
      When he woke up it was about 10 at night, James felt refreshed and was ready to hit the road. It was still raining outside, it seemed like it hadn't stopped. He felt hungry and looked in his drawers and cabinets got anything. All that was there was some tuna. He looked outside and noticed that the lemon tree in his neighbors yard had grown back over to his side. He ran outside shielding himself from the rain and being careful not to slip in any puddles. He grabbed the juiciest couple of lemons and ran back inside. He treated himself to a can of tuna with lemon juice. As he was eating he flipped on the radio to catch up on anything, the signal was a little hazy at first because of the rain but soon he started to understand what the reporters were saying.
     "A huge storm has shook the west with the weather people saying that this could be the start of a hurricane coming. This is extremely rare but we must precede with caution, support groups are gearing up as this much be one of many storms this winter."
     He switched the station again but he couldn't hear anything but static. So he switched it again to a local station. It was playing jazz it had an eerie feel with the rain outside and the darkness. It got dark out and he switched the light on and the dimness of the light kept everything well lighted. Just so that he needed it. James house didn't have a heater in his house yet so he had to wear a lot of layers of clothes to keep warm. He stayed up thinking of what he was going to do with Boris. Was he actually gonna kill Boris? Did he have the guts to do it? To take another mans life just because he was angry? Than that would make him just like Boris, a cold hearted killer. He contemplated this and thought for a while. For James, taking away a mans life was not easy, the hard part was that Boris had a family, and that family didn't know what Boris had done, they would be devastated when they find out. But would it make things easier or harder for that family to understand that what goes around comes around? An even darker thought rolled into his mind, what if I hurt his family? He wouldn't be able to handle that. "An eye for an eye," he muttered to himself. As soon as he thought that he closed his eyes and shook that thought out of his head. He threw the empty can of tuna away and threw the lemons peels into his yard, he sat down in a chair and held his eyes shut. "No I will never do that, " he shook his head. "I am not a killer, I don't kill for sport I kill because that is what is necessary, there is no other way for there to be justice. I will do what is necessary and that is it, I won't change my task and no one will stop me from carrying it out." He sat down on his couch and rested in it, he laid back and thought hard about death, it was a natural part of life that can not be avoided and would one day catch up to all living things. His mind finished off on this thought.
 


When James woke up again it was six in the morning and he was very tired. But he knew he couldn't stay in Ventura, he woke up and got ready, he ate breakfast, showered and did his usual morning routine. Before he left he stood in the middle of his house and took a look around, he missed living in that house. But then again he missed just about everything that changed before James died.
     He walked out the door with sure steps and got into his car and started it. He looked at the house one last time and thought, "I'll be back" he shifted into drive and sped off, not looking back as he drove onto the 101 north and hit 60  miles an hour as he drove. This time he really pushed the car, after that experience last night he had a new determination to find Boris. He drove faster hitting over the speed limit of 65 and reaching about 75. The engine roared to life being pushed hard, and every time he saw a highway patrol he braked ever so slightly so that he was just under the limit, he did that for about an hour and saw some of the California's coastal beauty. The sun had came out for a couple hours and beat down hard on everything, undoing the effect that the storm had done. The huge puddles dried up quickly and made the road safe for everyone.
     He saw the mountains and the ocean. It was all a blur as he sped through the valleys and mountains that dotted the west coast. He passed through rows and rows and rows of citrus plants that were used for the lemons and limes, James remembered reading somewhere that California was a perfect place to grow citrus plants, he didn't remember why. All of a sudden the whole car shuttered and and the engine sputtered and stopped. Barely having any control, he swerved the car into the side of the road before of stopped. Smoke rose out of the engine and James got out of the car to check it out. He opened up the good and stared down at the steaming flathead. He had been so careless in his driving that he had forgotten how sensitive the engine was and saw that the radiator tube blew and was spewing out murky water all over.
      "Uh oh, he muttered to himself.
     He walked over to the back and got out his tools and saw exactly what he needed, a spare radiator tube. He grinned to himself, he got to put in a little work time for once. He waited for the engine to cool down and then he got started. He replaced the tube real quickly and noted the damage to the old one.there was about an inch tear in the old one. He started the car and tested it out. He drove cautiously until the next had station and rolled right in. He fetched some gallon containers out oh god trunk and he filled them up. James poured in the new water and leaked out the old radiator water, it was orange and murky and looked nothing close to regular water. When he started the engine back up it growled like a dog. He hurried and put his tools away and drove back on the road, hitting about 60 and keeping that pace. The sun was hot and the air was dry, opening the windows didn’t do much, sohe sat there and baked in the car. The road was faded and cracked which gave a lot of wear on the tires.  James got into Santa Maria late, about 7 and was so tired from the days work that he pulled into random street and parked there he got out of his car and put everything that was in the trunk into the front. When he was making his car he customly extended the trunk so that he was able to fit in the back.he crawled into the trunk and grabbed an old blanket. Without thinking he kicked off his shoes and passed out. 
     James was dreaming, he was dreaming that he was driving. It didn't feel like a dream but it was one, he dreamed that he was on the highway, but the highway wasn’t as it seemed. Instead of greenery around them there was nothing but desert that seemed to stretch on for eternity endlessly, with just a few mountains in the distance and cacti that were standing old and proud. There was a lot of traffic build up.
     "This is rare, because stuff like this never happens," he said aloud to himself. He was stopped next to this car and he looked and saw Boris. Alive and in the flesh, or so he thought. James attempted to yell out for attention, but he couldn't find the voice to do it, nothing came out. He tried again, and there was nothing again. Suddenly the traffic dissipated, and Boris drove ahead. James kept at a pace that matched his. They went faster until they were going above the normal speed. Boris didn't seem to notice him and that angered James. They started to get to 90 before things got trippy. James reached into his glove compartment and unwrapped the cloth that surrounded his gun. He rolled down the window and aimed at Boris’s car. He was about to pull the trigger when all of a sudden the engine in James car turned off and he started to slow down, Boris's car sped ahead, by and by James went from 90 and ended up at a mere stop. The highway became empty and all the mountains and cactus disappeared. It was as if everyone had turned and left him. He tried to say something again but failed, no sound came out of his mouth.
       "I LOST HIM, I FAILED AT DOING THE ONE THING I NEEDED," his mind screamed at him. The sky turned red and the ground turned blue and the street became white and he found himself on a bridge, he was on the side and he lost his footing and toppled over and fell into a seemingly endless mix of dark blue and red.
     James shot up breathing hard and in cold sweat trying to figure out where he was and what was happening, his vision was blurry. Than he realized where he was, in the trunk of his car and everything that happened was just a dream. He rested his head on his rolled up jacket that covered the spare tire and focused his eyes in the darkness and tried to catch his breath. He listened to the sounds from outside. There was a couple cars that drove by and he listened to them buzz through the street.
     James rested there for a couple of minutes before he decided it was time to get out. He pushed the trunk open and slid out, he took shaky steps to the drivers seat and dumped all his stuff back in the trunk. He then looked in the rear view mirror and did a halfway decent job of making himself look presentable. The sky was cloudy, a dark shade of day. He started the car and roamed the streets of  downtown Santa Maria looking for a place to eat. He saw a neat little diner and parked on the street. He reached in the back of the seat and pulled out his briefcase full of money, fetched out a couple dollars and hid the case again. He headed on inside the restaurant and took a seat at the bar area. He was studying the menu when the bartender came up, he was a short chubby man that was wearing a white apron and a chef hat, he looked mean and tough but as soon as he spoke he was polite.
     The bartender asked, “What can i get ya this fine mornin’ mister?”
     "Yea hmm, lemme get a coffee and some pancakes,” James replied as he studied the menu.
     "That'll be 3 bucks mister, " the bartender answer as he gave the order to the cooks.
     James forked over the money and he sat there and waited for his food. He pulled out his map and rolled it open, He was in downtown Santa Maria and in about a couple hours he would be in San Francisco, the thought of that gave him a feeling of nervousness and excitement.
   "Here ya go, " the bartender said as he rolled the plate and coffee in front of James. Hem pancakes had steam rising from them, just baked perfection, he cut a bite and it felt soft. James ate like he had never eaten before, he ate until he was satisfied and couldn't eat another bite, when he was done he lazily slipped off his chair and headed on out. He started his car and drove off and got some gas before he headed back onto the 101 north and prepared to finish his journey.


At the end of the day later James rolled into San Francisco, he had been listening to the radio the whole day and the reports stated that the storm had started again, and eventually it did. It hit San Francisco hard, there was serious flooding that caused a lot of accidents and delay, all it did was make people more frustrated and in more of a rush. Most emergency services were all busy that day, cop and ambulance sirens wailed all day and at some points it would drone on endlessly for 10- 15 minutes at a time. He drove off the exit and wheeled into his last hotel that he would ever need to go to, he decided that this was his final chance to find Boris. He checked out a room for a couple days and he brought all his stuff in. All his clothes, his briefcase full of money, his map and the gun.
     The rain started going harder and the lights in the city flickered on and off. James turned the lights off and laid in his queen size bed and peered out the window to a city that never sleeps. All the lights flickered on and off and it was the same when he woke up. The next few days were a blur, he looked around and searched the phonebooks for ‘Sider” and didn’t find anything. He spent days looking for a sign of him by the third day he had come to know the area he was in really well, he knew what were the safe area’s and the dangerous ones. But he knew that by Boris’s identity and history that he was somewhere hidden in the ghetto and that time was running out to find him.
     The blackouts had gotten longer, at first they would flick on and off for a second but now the intervals would last 10- 15 minutes at the longest. Between radio reports they said that a fire had started and damage the power plant that ran the county and efforts were being made to fix it but working in the rain made it hazardous so mechanics were doing the best they could. James didn’t mind it, it didn’t distract him, it didn’t interrupt his work. On the fourth night, James became frustrated and decided he needed to wind down. He went to a bar that was filled with people who were just trying to get out of the rain. The bar was a large building that looked like it had been an old firestation, large green doors and the walls were brick, set a couple stories up the roof was wooden with lights dropping about 10 feet down to light the place.
     He stared hard at the counter and realized that he may never find him, in the city of almost a million what were the chances of him finding one man? James sat glumly at the table and looked around. He saw it, he looked directly at the man who was sitting a couple tables away from him. Boris. Boris seemed to have aged much since the picture that the reports had shown him in, he was young maybe 30’s. His eyes were dark but flickered with life, his moustache covered his mouth, he looked like he was homeless. Bitter hate filled James mind, he didn’t have the gun, he didn’t have anything. He kept on looking at Boris and decided he would follow him home, than tomorrow make his move. He was barely keeping it together because of the excitement and nervousness that was brewing inside of him. James was careful not to be seen and waited for almost an hour until Boris rose from his seat, he tipped the bartender and walked out the door. He soon followed and spotted Boris walking to his car, he had shaky hands as he unlocked his car door and backed out of the parking lot almost hitting a couple. He drove off and followed Boris’s truck. It was a beater 1944 chevy truck with faded green paint and rust spots everywhere, it looked like it had served in World War 2. James followed the truck across a couple streets following about half a block behind this lasted a couple minutes before it slowed down and parked. James followed and drove into an empty spot, the rain made it difficult to see but he observed Boris get out of his truck and walk into a Victorian style home.
     The light from the house flickered dimly and he saw that as soon as Boris walked up the steps a lady, which he presumed as his wife, opened the door and hugged him and led him inside. 2 little children stood at the door and watched Boris, he heard them faintly yelling, "Daddy". He walked in and closed the door and James sat there in his car and let the realization sink in that they probably didn't know what he had done. James marked the house on the map and drove off back to his hotel, trying to think of how he was gonna kill him, he thought long and hard about it. He thought about how if he killed Boris it would scar his children forever, and maybe it would give them the same feeling James had when his brother was killed, all it would start was a series of killings over one man’s mistake. James decided couldn't kill him and at 3 in the morning he sped over to the police station, he parked and his last thought before he stepped into the police station was, "it ends today."

James walked in to the police station and stopped at the front desk.
     "How may I help you?" the lady greeted him, she didn't make any eye contact with James and she kept on filing papers,
     "I need to talk with the chief of police it's important," James said.
     "He's busy at the moment if u have a complaint there's some officers that can help you over there," she said calmly pointing at a few officers talking.
     James bent slightly over the desk and whispered, "I have found Boris Sider and we need to act now while he is still here."
     She stopped what she was doing and finally looked at him. She got up and led him to the Chief of Police office, and yelled loud,     
     "There's a man that says he's found Sider, sir, I think you wanna listen to what he's saying"
     “Come in,” a gruff voice said from inside the office. The lady led him in and James took a seat. The chief looked about 60, and had a very wise presence without needing to be said.
     “What’s your name boy? I am Jerry Smith, ” the man rumbled.
     “My name is James Baccarelli, my brother is Melvin, the man who was killed by Boris.”
     “And you have information on this killer?” Jerry said staring dead into James eyes. James told him all the story of his trip, and how he’s been tracking down Boris all along. When James was finished he leaned forward over his desk and then leaned back and said
      “Let’s get a couple of squads on them.”
     James thanked him and he was met with a group of cops that were ready to do this and he told them Boris’s location. Within an hour of him going into the police station, they were ready to finish the job. Being careful not to make a scene they quietly surrounded the house, and James was personally invited to come and see it through out. It was about 5 or 6 in the morning and police cars surrounded the front and back entrance to the house. The air was cold and it had stopped raining. The morning dew covered everything. About 4 or 5 cops waited in the front while a pair walked towards the front door. They knocked on the front door and about a minute later. The same lady that greeted Boris not even 12 hours before was there again. There was some commotion and James couldn’t hear what they were saying but the action showed it. The lady put her hands to her mouth and started crying, she sat down on the steps and started crying. The cops signaled the other ones to come to the front and they drew their guns and rushed in. You could hear some banging and stuff that sounded like struggling than it was all silent. Boris came out handcuffed and was being dragged out by 2 officers while the rest all had their guns pointed at him. He looked over and made eye contact with James they both stared at each other in bitter hate. The 2 kids from the night before ran out to the front door wailing in surprise and they rushed to their mothers side. James felt the nervousness, and excitement drain away from him as it was done. Boris was thrown into the back seat of the car, neighbors heard the screaming and crying and they all came out to see what was happening. He had done it, against all odds and with all the commotion James had finally found peace.