We stopped for a second at the guard post so the driver could show ID, then he kicked it down the slope and into the garage. I thought he went a little too fast but I didn't share my concern with my escorts. "Serve them right if they ran into somebody" was my thought. They didn't of course. I would have been surprised if they had.
We pulled in front of a gate, really a big metal slab, watched over from tinted windows, which opened for us without them doing anything. That was kind of spooky. Inside was enough space for four cars and another gate at the end. We were boxed and the only vehicle in there. They got out and then got me out and led me to the double doors which also opened like magic. Bad magic. The place was creeping me out and the exhaust fans which were roaring didn't help me feel any better. One must have been going bad because it was shrieking like it was in pain. A part of mind started wondering if I was going to be beaten. That was not going to happen I reassured myself. This was the FBI, not some southern small town cops. They were professionals who wore ties and washed their hands after going to the bathroom.
My little voice was silenced when we stepped through the doors into a room with a counter running the length of one end. It was very clean and sparsely decorated. I was led to that by the elbow where a guy who looked like he lifted weights regularly and a woman who looked like she spotted for him waited. They looked bored.
Johnson wasn't real good about making conversation as the first thing he said was, "When are you going to get the fan fixed?" Bored woman answered, "GSA said they would get it done three days ago." She shrugged, an added, "You can't hear it in here anyways.
I heard him mutter, "Fucking GSA." Then he told Smith, "Check him in and come by before you decide to disappear for the day." I didn't miss the grin Jones gave Smith as he and Johnson disappeared through a door with "No Prisoners Beyond This Point" stenciled in block black letters on it. After that it was all about being prepped as a meal for the machine. That's what it felt like, like I was being processed by and for consumption. I didn't know it but that was exactly what was happening.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
The Contractor - Part 2b - by nova
They wouldn't shut up about football. "Hey Johnson." So that was the black agents name, "I need tomorrow off. I got to run my kid to the dentist."
"Fine. Submit it and I'll sign off on it when I come in. And Smith..."
"Yeah boss."
"Don't forget. Stealing time is the same as stealing money."
Smith didn't say anything in reply. I waited for the laughter. None came. Well, at least it was a break in the conversation and I used it. "Where are we going?"
Johnson answered over his shoulder, "Field Office on 4th Street. You'll get booked there and sat back until another Agent talks to you."
"Except I didn't do anything!" I was trying to be cool but my voice betrayed me. It didn't go unnoticed. He added, "Jones, tell him what he's looking at while I call in."
"Lets see. Possession with intent to distribute, a firearm, semiautomatic, that I bet isn't registered in your name."
"That's not mine! Look, there was this hot blond and..."
"Shut up." Jones told me. We don't care. Your lawyer won't care and the Judge won't care. You do know about the mandatory sentencing guidelines? Right?"
I shook my head. My stomach sunk. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like this. I was right. "Your looking at 78 months incarceration minimum." I swallowed and said quietly, "I didn't do this officer."
"It's Agent. Shut up."
I wondered, "Weren't they supposed to read me my rights?" I did have rights except I didn't really want to hear them. Since they hadn't yet maybe I was not under arrest and this could all be straightened out. They went back to talking about football and I watched the people on the street. That world already seemed far away. While I did that I tried to figure out what 78 months was in years. As best as I could figure out it was six years. If I had my phone I could use the calculator but they had taken that. Whatever it was in years it was too many. Then the evil part of my brain started sending images of what I could expect in DC Jail, a jail well known for its squalor and angry black men with large penises that... "Holy shit. What the hell have I gotten into here? My fear level kicked up a notch.
"Fine. Submit it and I'll sign off on it when I come in. And Smith..."
"Yeah boss."
"Don't forget. Stealing time is the same as stealing money."
Smith didn't say anything in reply. I waited for the laughter. None came. Well, at least it was a break in the conversation and I used it. "Where are we going?"
Johnson answered over his shoulder, "Field Office on 4th Street. You'll get booked there and sat back until another Agent talks to you."
"Except I didn't do anything!" I was trying to be cool but my voice betrayed me. It didn't go unnoticed. He added, "Jones, tell him what he's looking at while I call in."
"Lets see. Possession with intent to distribute, a firearm, semiautomatic, that I bet isn't registered in your name."
"That's not mine! Look, there was this hot blond and..."
"Shut up." Jones told me. We don't care. Your lawyer won't care and the Judge won't care. You do know about the mandatory sentencing guidelines? Right?"
I shook my head. My stomach sunk. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like this. I was right. "Your looking at 78 months incarceration minimum." I swallowed and said quietly, "I didn't do this officer."
"It's Agent. Shut up."
I wondered, "Weren't they supposed to read me my rights?" I did have rights except I didn't really want to hear them. Since they hadn't yet maybe I was not under arrest and this could all be straightened out. They went back to talking about football and I watched the people on the street. That world already seemed far away. While I did that I tried to figure out what 78 months was in years. As best as I could figure out it was six years. If I had my phone I could use the calculator but they had taken that. Whatever it was in years it was too many. Then the evil part of my brain started sending images of what I could expect in DC Jail, a jail well known for its squalor and angry black men with large penises that... "Holy shit. What the hell have I gotten into here? My fear level kicked up a notch.
The Contractor - Part 2a - by nova
They finished tossing the room, it didn't take long as it wasn't very big, it was mostly bed, which I noticed they didn't look under. My mom always made us look under the bed before we checked out of a room when we were on vacation. She also checked every drawer. Mom could have taught these guys how to do this right. Mom might be getting a phone call from me very shortly. "Look officers...this is not my room. Check at the desk. It's some Swedish woman's. I told them this using my patient voice. It didn't change things. I was on my feet and Smith or was it Jones, I've always had a problem remembering names, looked at me, laughed a most unpleasant laugh, and told me, "Right."
The black agent, I hadn't heard his name yet, told the other two, "Take him to the car. I want to get this done an over with so I can watch the game for a change."
Smith said, "Yeah. Even though the 'Skins suck as usual."
They jabbered away about football as the elbow rushed me down the hallway. The cleaning lady watched for a few seconds and then disappeared back into the room she was doing, probably worried about getting her papers checked or the little scene I was playing a part in reminded her of home. Hell, I was getting that banana republic feeling but thank god this was America.
The trip through the lobby was fun. Lot's of tourists milling about for some reason. Of course someone took my picture with their cell phone. Damn, I was going to be some asshole from Iowa's Facebook post by nightfall.
Jones opened the door, the car was a Dodge Charger I think, the Feds always have money, and he pushed my head down so I wouldn't bang it getting in. I had seen that on TV and it always seemed like a nice gesture. It didn't feel that way in real life.
The black agent, I hadn't heard his name yet, told the other two, "Take him to the car. I want to get this done an over with so I can watch the game for a change."
Smith said, "Yeah. Even though the 'Skins suck as usual."
They jabbered away about football as the elbow rushed me down the hallway. The cleaning lady watched for a few seconds and then disappeared back into the room she was doing, probably worried about getting her papers checked or the little scene I was playing a part in reminded her of home. Hell, I was getting that banana republic feeling but thank god this was America.
The trip through the lobby was fun. Lot's of tourists milling about for some reason. Of course someone took my picture with their cell phone. Damn, I was going to be some asshole from Iowa's Facebook post by nightfall.
Jones opened the door, the car was a Dodge Charger I think, the Feds always have money, and he pushed my head down so I wouldn't bang it getting in. I had seen that on TV and it always seemed like a nice gesture. It didn't feel that way in real life.
You Really Think It Was All An Accident?
This is an an excerpt. Click here to read the rest.
It works like this... The most important assets for a free people are time and leisure. Once you have that, then you can develop the ability to think critically, to analyze facts, events, trends, and to become aware of the dynamics that operate within a social system.
In a society, once a large-enough segment of the population has developed an understanding of how the system works, you then have an informed citizenry who is able to act in favor of their interests.
So in a healthy democracy where the population is informed and educated, you will not have a very marked disparity in income distribution between the population and the rich.
So having access to time and leisure, leads to an improved ability to think, to analyse, and to become aware about how the system works. This in turn leads to the ability to organize with other informed citizens to take collective actions to safeguard your interests.
For the citizenry, this results in having a larger share of the nation's income, wealth, and power.
That's why the oligarchs are always (eternally) trying to find ways to chip away at the ability for the common man to be able to have access to idle time and/or leisure.
That explains the hundreds of millions of dollars certain business organizations and lobbying groups spend on bribing politicians nationwide to setup a legislative framework to make it harder for workers to unionize, to make education less accessible, to destroy the proper functions of government.
When it comes to power, the most significant component is income and wealth, especially in a capitalist system.
Once people fall into poverty, they become powerless (by and large); that's why you hardly see politicians talking about the poor. They are always talking about the "middle class."
And it does not matter how large the segment of the population falling into poverty may be. For example, a population that has a 10% incidence of poverty, is as powerless as a population who has 80% living in poverty (in my opinion).
Right now (as you read this), there is a segment of the population who has vast wealth and it's using it to manipulate the bought off politicians nationwide (federal, state, counties, cities) to push "austerity measures" onto the citizenry.
These austerity measures have the effect of curtailing access to education, health care, and a plethora of workers' rights.
As these very well-planned policies take effect, the average worker then has less time, and less leisure. This immediately translates into a rapidly-expanding wealth gap between the rich, an the rest. As the rich become richer (aided by the bribing of Democrats and Republican politicians across the entire country), and the poor become poorer, the percentage of the population who is poor also increases rapidly (as it is the case now).
As poverty spreads through the population, ignorance also spreads, since poor people don't have access to the proper infrastructure to get educated.
And here's the "brilliance" of the oligarchs. As the "hamster wheels" (as it were) are spun faster and faster, the workers try to keep up. Those who fall off the wheel, unable to keep up with the oppression and exploitation, then fall into poverty, and are quickly marginalized, stripped from any source of power, and ghettoized.
It works like this... The most important assets for a free people are time and leisure. Once you have that, then you can develop the ability to think critically, to analyze facts, events, trends, and to become aware of the dynamics that operate within a social system.
In a society, once a large-enough segment of the population has developed an understanding of how the system works, you then have an informed citizenry who is able to act in favor of their interests.
So in a healthy democracy where the population is informed and educated, you will not have a very marked disparity in income distribution between the population and the rich.
So having access to time and leisure, leads to an improved ability to think, to analyse, and to become aware about how the system works. This in turn leads to the ability to organize with other informed citizens to take collective actions to safeguard your interests.
For the citizenry, this results in having a larger share of the nation's income, wealth, and power.
That's why the oligarchs are always (eternally) trying to find ways to chip away at the ability for the common man to be able to have access to idle time and/or leisure.
That explains the hundreds of millions of dollars certain business organizations and lobbying groups spend on bribing politicians nationwide to setup a legislative framework to make it harder for workers to unionize, to make education less accessible, to destroy the proper functions of government.
When it comes to power, the most significant component is income and wealth, especially in a capitalist system.
Once people fall into poverty, they become powerless (by and large); that's why you hardly see politicians talking about the poor. They are always talking about the "middle class."
And it does not matter how large the segment of the population falling into poverty may be. For example, a population that has a 10% incidence of poverty, is as powerless as a population who has 80% living in poverty (in my opinion).
Right now (as you read this), there is a segment of the population who has vast wealth and it's using it to manipulate the bought off politicians nationwide (federal, state, counties, cities) to push "austerity measures" onto the citizenry.
These austerity measures have the effect of curtailing access to education, health care, and a plethora of workers' rights.
As these very well-planned policies take effect, the average worker then has less time, and less leisure. This immediately translates into a rapidly-expanding wealth gap between the rich, an the rest. As the rich become richer (aided by the bribing of Democrats and Republican politicians across the entire country), and the poor become poorer, the percentage of the population who is poor also increases rapidly (as it is the case now).
As poverty spreads through the population, ignorance also spreads, since poor people don't have access to the proper infrastructure to get educated.
And here's the "brilliance" of the oligarchs. As the "hamster wheels" (as it were) are spun faster and faster, the workers try to keep up. Those who fall off the wheel, unable to keep up with the oppression and exploitation, then fall into poverty, and are quickly marginalized, stripped from any source of power, and ghettoized.
Listen to This
If you like this type of music -- take a look at her kickstart page:
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The Contractor - Part 2 - by nova
I have to admit I felt a moment of unease the way she disappeared so quickly. Especially as she took the big ass purse that she was carrying with her. I thought about it, mentally shrugged, and told myself, "Just cause you had sex doesn't mean she trusts you...yet." There was probably some deep moral or cultural meaning in there somewhere but I wasn't going to dig it out. I looked around the room and saw some cosmetics on the table. Yeah, she was staying here so sometimes a cigar is a cigar and I relaxed.
That was when the door burst open and big men came busting through it yelling, "FBI! Get your hands where we can see them! Now!" I stuck them up in the air and got as far as yelling "Hey!" before they were on me. What really disturbed me was the guns pointing at me. Me! "Out of the bed an on the floor now! Move" They wouldn't stop yelling either. "On your stomach asshole! Do it! Now!" I was yelling, "Alright! Alright!" Damn I felt naked. More so than I had in front of the Swedish cougar who I hoped had enough sense to stay away now. Hell, she needed to get to the airport and get back home where they didn't do stupid shit like this. There was a pause in the noise and I felt like they were all staring at my ass. It was a creepy feeling. Especially when one of them cuffed me.
"Hey! Can I put on my pants?"
"Shut up."
"Jones check his pants and let cotton tail get covered up.
"Going to be hard to do since I just cuffed him."
"Well uncuff him and then do it again."
I was getting a good look at the carpet. I wasn't as clean as it looked and it smelled like old feet this close up.
"Smith check the room. See what we can find."
So the black guy was in charge. I didn't even think the FBI hired blacks for agent jobs. They were wearing the blue windbreakers with FBI in big bold yellow letters so they were the real thing. I was looking forward to explaining to them how they had the wrong person. I would try not to be too snotty about it.
My pants were dropped on my head and I was told to get up slowly and put them on. Then to get my ass back down on the floor.
I was pulling them on when Smith pulled open one of the dresser drawers, reached in, and came out with a Tupperware container that he carefully sat on the dresser top. "Lookee here...and there's more." He whistled as he pulled some kind of black pistol out next. "I bet that isn't tuna fish in the Tupperware either" the black agent said.
"Hey! That's not mine!"
"Shut up and get down."
I was forced back down to the carpet and cuffed again. I changed my mind. I hoped that little blond bitch would walk in the door. This was starting to suck in a major sort of way."
That was when the door burst open and big men came busting through it yelling, "FBI! Get your hands where we can see them! Now!" I stuck them up in the air and got as far as yelling "Hey!" before they were on me. What really disturbed me was the guns pointing at me. Me! "Out of the bed an on the floor now! Move" They wouldn't stop yelling either. "On your stomach asshole! Do it! Now!" I was yelling, "Alright! Alright!" Damn I felt naked. More so than I had in front of the Swedish cougar who I hoped had enough sense to stay away now. Hell, she needed to get to the airport and get back home where they didn't do stupid shit like this. There was a pause in the noise and I felt like they were all staring at my ass. It was a creepy feeling. Especially when one of them cuffed me.
"Hey! Can I put on my pants?"
"Shut up."
"Jones check his pants and let cotton tail get covered up.
"Going to be hard to do since I just cuffed him."
"Well uncuff him and then do it again."
I was getting a good look at the carpet. I wasn't as clean as it looked and it smelled like old feet this close up.
"Smith check the room. See what we can find."
So the black guy was in charge. I didn't even think the FBI hired blacks for agent jobs. They were wearing the blue windbreakers with FBI in big bold yellow letters so they were the real thing. I was looking forward to explaining to them how they had the wrong person. I would try not to be too snotty about it.
My pants were dropped on my head and I was told to get up slowly and put them on. Then to get my ass back down on the floor.
I was pulling them on when Smith pulled open one of the dresser drawers, reached in, and came out with a Tupperware container that he carefully sat on the dresser top. "Lookee here...and there's more." He whistled as he pulled some kind of black pistol out next. "I bet that isn't tuna fish in the Tupperware either" the black agent said.
"Hey! That's not mine!"
"Shut up and get down."
I was forced back down to the carpet and cuffed again. I changed my mind. I hoped that little blond bitch would walk in the door. This was starting to suck in a major sort of way."
Monday, December 26, 2011
The Contractor - Part 1f - by nova
I thought I was good at getting a woman out of her clothes quickly but she had me beat by a country mile. Looking back I wonder where she hid that third arm because that is the only way she could have stripped me, her, and still managed to reach between my legs and grab hold of the center of my existence. I always run a wager in my head about women, is she shaved, a landing strip, or full fuzz? I went with shaved and was right. My prize? Burying my head between the legs and going for the taste test. What happened next was good, very good, and would have been over far quicker if I hadn't slowed everything down enough to fetch the condom out my wallet. A condom she so obligingly put on after taking me deeper down her throat then any woman ever had before. "God bless Swedish women!" went through my head along with, "I really have to go to Europe." Then I quit thinking.
Not many minutes later I was on my back in the bed feeling rather good about life and thinking about how I might even make it back to the job without being too late. She was lying beside me, I looked over at her beautiful profile, smiled at her, and said, "That was great." She smiled back, told me I was everything good she had heard about American men, an asked if I was thirsty?
"Yeah. I could use some water or whatever."
"Me too. I always get thirsty after good sex. Are you hungry?"
I thought about it. I was but we were done for now and I really needed the job. "Ah...I really should be getting back to work...how about dinner? Can we do that?" I didn't have to fake the underlying tone of hopeful anticipation and need for her to say "Yes." She didn't hesitate, "Of course I am." She sealed it when she reached between my legs and gave me a squeeze. Laughing she told me, "I love American food." Yes indeed. I was going to have to go to Europe.
She jumped out of bed and told me, "I'll be right back. I'm going to get us something to drink. When I get back I want you to call my cell so we can stay in touch. I have to go by the embassy later and I'm not sure how long it will take. Plus I'm dying of thirst." She told me all this as she got dressed. I enjoyed watching her do it. "Sure. Can you get me a Pepsi Lite if they have it?"
"That's my favorite too!" She gave me a perfect white smile, waggled her fingers at me, grabbed her bag and was out the door. I watched the door shut, stretched, and scratched my balls, and decided I would wait until she got back to get dressed. Getting back to work was seeming less important again anyways.
Not many minutes later I was on my back in the bed feeling rather good about life and thinking about how I might even make it back to the job without being too late. She was lying beside me, I looked over at her beautiful profile, smiled at her, and said, "That was great." She smiled back, told me I was everything good she had heard about American men, an asked if I was thirsty?
"Yeah. I could use some water or whatever."
"Me too. I always get thirsty after good sex. Are you hungry?"
I thought about it. I was but we were done for now and I really needed the job. "Ah...I really should be getting back to work...how about dinner? Can we do that?" I didn't have to fake the underlying tone of hopeful anticipation and need for her to say "Yes." She didn't hesitate, "Of course I am." She sealed it when she reached between my legs and gave me a squeeze. Laughing she told me, "I love American food." Yes indeed. I was going to have to go to Europe.
She jumped out of bed and told me, "I'll be right back. I'm going to get us something to drink. When I get back I want you to call my cell so we can stay in touch. I have to go by the embassy later and I'm not sure how long it will take. Plus I'm dying of thirst." She told me all this as she got dressed. I enjoyed watching her do it. "Sure. Can you get me a Pepsi Lite if they have it?"
"That's my favorite too!" She gave me a perfect white smile, waggled her fingers at me, grabbed her bag and was out the door. I watched the door shut, stretched, and scratched my balls, and decided I would wait until she got back to get dressed. Getting back to work was seeming less important again anyways.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
The Contractor - Chapter 1e - by nova
We walked to her hotel room with her setting the pace. She was moving us right along and snapping heads with every step. We talked as we walked, her name was Bridgette, and I told her mine. She liked my name, repeated it a couple of times, and told me it sounded it like a cowboys name. I liked that, my witty reply was something like, "Yeah, I've been told I'm good at riding." She gave me a knowing look and I replied with my studly manly man grin. We were bonding.
Her hotel was the Red Roof Inn, one I had never been inside of before. Actually, I had only been in one hotel in DC in my life and I was curious to see what it was like. From the outside I expected a lot of black people and foreigners but that was just the help. Every one else was white which was a surprise.
We breezed past the front desk and pressed the button for the elevator. While we waited for it I asked her, "Not bad. You like it?"
She gave a little shrug, and replied, "It's okay. I've seen worse."
She had to swipe a mag card to get the doors to close. As soon as they did she was on me, we were still lip locked and my hand was clutching her ass when the door opened again. A family was waiting to get on, I still remember the fathers frown and the giggle beginning to surface on the little girls face as we brushed past them. Seconds later we inside her room and she had me pinned against the just closed door.
Her hotel was the Red Roof Inn, one I had never been inside of before. Actually, I had only been in one hotel in DC in my life and I was curious to see what it was like. From the outside I expected a lot of black people and foreigners but that was just the help. Every one else was white which was a surprise.
We breezed past the front desk and pressed the button for the elevator. While we waited for it I asked her, "Not bad. You like it?"
She gave a little shrug, and replied, "It's okay. I've seen worse."
She had to swipe a mag card to get the doors to close. As soon as they did she was on me, we were still lip locked and my hand was clutching her ass when the door opened again. A family was waiting to get on, I still remember the fathers frown and the giggle beginning to surface on the little girls face as we brushed past them. Seconds later we inside her room and she had me pinned against the just closed door.
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Contractor - Part 1d by nova
What happened next was too good to be true but I wasn't going to complain. She stopped, smiled again, an asked me, "What do you think of all this?" She had an accent which just made her hotter. I went stupid but was saved from junior high stammering because of my script.
"I think they're demonstrating that the American spirit is still alive. People everywhere are waking up and realizing that the 1% are looting the worlds economy while condemning the planet to environmental disaster and the remaining populace to poverty."
I followed it with a solemn look and tried really hard to maintain eye contact. Damn that woman was top heavy.
"You're so right. Do you mind if I sit? I've been walking all morning."
Did I mind? Of course not. I patted the ledge I was sitting on and told her, "Sure. You new here?"
She sat down and even better she sat close. She was wearing black jeggings. I loved women in jeggings. Spandex hadn't died -- it had just mutated into something better. When she sat down she bent over just a little to set her backpack down and her blouse gaped open enough for me to see the swell of her breasts. I got even stupider if that was possible.
"Oh yes. I today walked from the monument to your President Jefferson to the Capitol and back to here. Now I am hungry." Then she dropped her eyes to my crotch for just a second. A faint but definite alarm bell rang somewhere way back where a tiny part of my brain still capable of rational thought still functioned.
"So where are you from?"
"Sweden." She smiled. "It was a long flight. Have you ever been there?"
My brain did fireworks accompanied by the sound of a jackpot cashing in. "Swedish! Yes! A Euroslut!" layered over the top of it.
"No. I've only been to Asia...courtesy of the US government."
She looked at me quizzically. I noticed the faint crows feet traced in the skin that radiated from those beautiful blue eyes. "Cougar! I'm going to be raped!" Damn, I was hitting the checklist of easiness with marks in all the boxes.
"Ah no...always wanted too. No, I just got out of the military. Hey, maybe you could tell me more about Sweden over lunch. I'll even buy, not that there is a lot of choices here."
We were close enough to Potbellies and I could tell her it was ethnic American food. There were better places close by but I wasn't going to spend that much money even for a Swedish super model. If she said she wanted to try one I would just plead cash flow problems from buying textbooks for my classes. Hell, with a little luck she would pick up the check.
"I like military men. They are so...clean. I have a better idea. Why don't we eat in my room. I bought some healthy food, here it is so hard to find, and you can tell me about your adventures in far away places."
"Sure! I would love to but I would rather hear you talk about Sweden."
"I'm sure we will find many things to talk about." She stood up, and said, "Come. I'm so very hungry."
I wondered if that was some kind of Swedish code word for horny. I hoped so.I was going to be late getting back to work but I was okay with that.
"I think they're demonstrating that the American spirit is still alive. People everywhere are waking up and realizing that the 1% are looting the worlds economy while condemning the planet to environmental disaster and the remaining populace to poverty."
I followed it with a solemn look and tried really hard to maintain eye contact. Damn that woman was top heavy.
"You're so right. Do you mind if I sit? I've been walking all morning."
Did I mind? Of course not. I patted the ledge I was sitting on and told her, "Sure. You new here?"
She sat down and even better she sat close. She was wearing black jeggings. I loved women in jeggings. Spandex hadn't died -- it had just mutated into something better. When she sat down she bent over just a little to set her backpack down and her blouse gaped open enough for me to see the swell of her breasts. I got even stupider if that was possible.
"Oh yes. I today walked from the monument to your President Jefferson to the Capitol and back to here. Now I am hungry." Then she dropped her eyes to my crotch for just a second. A faint but definite alarm bell rang somewhere way back where a tiny part of my brain still capable of rational thought still functioned.
"So where are you from?"
"Sweden." She smiled. "It was a long flight. Have you ever been there?"
My brain did fireworks accompanied by the sound of a jackpot cashing in. "Swedish! Yes! A Euroslut!" layered over the top of it.
Don't fuck this up Dakota!"
"No. I've only been to Asia...courtesy of the US government."
She looked at me quizzically. I noticed the faint crows feet traced in the skin that radiated from those beautiful blue eyes. "Cougar! I'm going to be raped!" Damn, I was hitting the checklist of easiness with marks in all the boxes.
"Ah no...always wanted too. No, I just got out of the military. Hey, maybe you could tell me more about Sweden over lunch. I'll even buy, not that there is a lot of choices here."
We were close enough to Potbellies and I could tell her it was ethnic American food. There were better places close by but I wasn't going to spend that much money even for a Swedish super model. If she said she wanted to try one I would just plead cash flow problems from buying textbooks for my classes. Hell, with a little luck she would pick up the check.
"I like military men. They are so...clean. I have a better idea. Why don't we eat in my room. I bought some healthy food, here it is so hard to find, and you can tell me about your adventures in far away places."
"Sure! I would love to but I would rather hear you talk about Sweden."
"I'm sure we will find many things to talk about." She stood up, and said, "Come. I'm so very hungry."
I wondered if that was some kind of Swedish code word for horny. I hoped so.I was going to be late getting back to work but I was okay with that.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Contractor - Chapter 1c - by nova
I didn't know what to think about the OWS people. I knew a little about how bad the economy was because all I could find was temp work and I was happy to have found that. I was hoping to get a real job, preferably one with the federal government, so I could make some real money because what I was making as a temp wasn't cutting it and my meager savings was depleting rapidly. Far too rapidly.
Not that I made all that much doing IT for a non-profit that was big on saving the world but less concerned about paying the people who actually worked there a decent wage. I did learn that the "save the world" types usually were self righteous assholes when it came to dealing with real people which was probably why I was a little leery of them.
That all changed when I met her. Looking back, most of the changes in life, and few of them were positive, resulted from my intense love of women.
I changed OWS sites a few days before I met her. The old one wasn't working for me anymore. The tourist season was coming to an end, there was a chill in the air, and I was getting tired of walking the extra block for nothing. I was eating lunch at the other site, the one in front of the National Theater when I saw her.
She was gorgeous. Blond, blue eyes, full breasted on a slim, tight body. She was also alone which was even better. No problem with cutting her out of the herd or the friend who took about three seconds to become impatient. Best of all she was taking pictures with her cell and glancing back at me. I smiled. She smiled back. She started walking towards me. Life was looking good.
Not that I made all that much doing IT for a non-profit that was big on saving the world but less concerned about paying the people who actually worked there a decent wage. I did learn that the "save the world" types usually were self righteous assholes when it came to dealing with real people which was probably why I was a little leery of them.
That all changed when I met her. Looking back, most of the changes in life, and few of them were positive, resulted from my intense love of women.
I changed OWS sites a few days before I met her. The old one wasn't working for me anymore. The tourist season was coming to an end, there was a chill in the air, and I was getting tired of walking the extra block for nothing. I was eating lunch at the other site, the one in front of the National Theater when I saw her.
She was gorgeous. Blond, blue eyes, full breasted on a slim, tight body. She was also alone which was even better. No problem with cutting her out of the herd or the friend who took about three seconds to become impatient. Best of all she was taking pictures with her cell and glancing back at me. I smiled. She smiled back. She started walking towards me. Life was looking good.
OWS-DC
These are from part of the OWS-DC encampment. This is the one a few blocks from the main one in McPherson Square. It's on the plaza in front of National Theater and the National Press Building.
The Contractor - Chapter 1b - by nova
My life has been a series of accidents that I have managed to show up for. Nothing really out of the ordinary, the usual right place, wrong time. I ended up in the business because I was setup, and I will probably exit it through one.
I can't say I liked the man I became but I tried to do what I thought was best as long as it didn't inconvenience me too much. I would like to say that what I write here is my apology, that the scales have dropped from my eyes, that it hurt following off the horse, but you know what? I would be lying, and I promised myself I would tell the truth here. I have seen the world through all the rose colored glasses offered by each of the major players and when you take them off you see that the messed up, tired, and getting worse shit hadn't gotten any rosier.
I was one of the first people to consistently show up when the OWS movement first started. Not because I was ready to protest the evil injustices that the bankers had inflicted upon the innocent borrowers of America. Hell, I had a job, of sorts. I didn't have much of a life but who did back then? What I also didn't have was a woman and OWS attracted them. I was working a temp job a couple blocks from McPherson Square in Washington, DC where they liked to lurk. I went there because it was an amusing way to kill time and when I started going there were attractive women buzzing around.
There were a few DC women, mostly drawn to check it out because they worked nearby. I didn't bother with them though they would have been a lot more convenient over the long term. Why? I couldn't afford them. To into the career, money, and status all of which I was sorely lacking in.
I tried working the summer tourist women but that was a no go for the most part until I learned the secret. It was easy once I figured it out. I just needed to look like a protester, talk like a protester, but stay well groomed and casually mention I had a place of my own. On the weekends I brought my guitar, stayed on the edges, and strummed. That was a killer once I had the pitch perfected. If it seemed appropriate, and with the European tourists it always was, I would also ask towards the end if they liked to get high?
The women of OWS? They were interesting, but at the time I found them lacking. I hadn't really thought it out but somewhere in the back of my head I had realized that if you want to hunt the same waterhole on a daily basis hooking up with one of the local sheep would mean no more variety in my meals.
I was young, white, and in shape from my time in the Navy and because I didn't eat a lot. I worked the fact that I was a "vet" in at the top as part of my casual give them the data they want to hear so I could get some pitch. It wasn't as one way as it sounds. I mean they got to experience the passionate young rebel for a night or two and I got laid. It evolved into the same pitch I used without much change over the next few years with pretty decent success.
I can't say I liked the man I became but I tried to do what I thought was best as long as it didn't inconvenience me too much. I would like to say that what I write here is my apology, that the scales have dropped from my eyes, that it hurt following off the horse, but you know what? I would be lying, and I promised myself I would tell the truth here. I have seen the world through all the rose colored glasses offered by each of the major players and when you take them off you see that the messed up, tired, and getting worse shit hadn't gotten any rosier.
I was one of the first people to consistently show up when the OWS movement first started. Not because I was ready to protest the evil injustices that the bankers had inflicted upon the innocent borrowers of America. Hell, I had a job, of sorts. I didn't have much of a life but who did back then? What I also didn't have was a woman and OWS attracted them. I was working a temp job a couple blocks from McPherson Square in Washington, DC where they liked to lurk. I went there because it was an amusing way to kill time and when I started going there were attractive women buzzing around.
There were a few DC women, mostly drawn to check it out because they worked nearby. I didn't bother with them though they would have been a lot more convenient over the long term. Why? I couldn't afford them. To into the career, money, and status all of which I was sorely lacking in.
I tried working the summer tourist women but that was a no go for the most part until I learned the secret. It was easy once I figured it out. I just needed to look like a protester, talk like a protester, but stay well groomed and casually mention I had a place of my own. On the weekends I brought my guitar, stayed on the edges, and strummed. That was a killer once I had the pitch perfected. If it seemed appropriate, and with the European tourists it always was, I would also ask towards the end if they liked to get high?
The women of OWS? They were interesting, but at the time I found them lacking. I hadn't really thought it out but somewhere in the back of my head I had realized that if you want to hunt the same waterhole on a daily basis hooking up with one of the local sheep would mean no more variety in my meals.
I was young, white, and in shape from my time in the Navy and because I didn't eat a lot. I worked the fact that I was a "vet" in at the top as part of my casual give them the data they want to hear so I could get some pitch. It wasn't as one way as it sounds. I mean they got to experience the passionate young rebel for a night or two and I got laid. It evolved into the same pitch I used without much change over the next few years with pretty decent success.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The Contractor - Chapter 1a - by nova
Yeah, I'm a contractor. Not one of the best and not one of the worst. Mostly I have been around since the beginning and I saw a lot of shit happen. Once I was proud of that, you know in a been there done that kind of way. The problem is I've become a liability and believe you me, I know what happens when you become a liability to the people that run things. It's only a matter of time before I disappear or have an accident. Probably I will just disappear. It's no longer important to observe the niceties and hasn't been for years.
They'll want to keep it low key though. I would. I'm not the only loose end out there and it would be smart to take of as many of us as possible before word gets around.
So I'm writing this as my insurance policy and at best it's going to be a weak form of term life. My hope is it will buy me some time and time is what I need the most. The winds of change are blowing and if I can avoid getting blown away I might be able to come out the other side in one piece. I just typed that, looked at it, and told myself "cliche." The problem is cliches, like generalizations, work because they speak the truth. What I write here is the truth and many of the people who will populate it never had enough originality to even qualify as one.
During the low moments,the late at night, strain the ears listening to nothing and everything nights, my heart beat thumping in my chest nights, I know if they want me bad enough nothing will matter. What makes it even more ironic is the only people that could help me would be more than happy to put a bullet in my head. Life is a bitch. It always has been. It will always be one.
They'll want to keep it low key though. I would. I'm not the only loose end out there and it would be smart to take of as many of us as possible before word gets around.
So I'm writing this as my insurance policy and at best it's going to be a weak form of term life. My hope is it will buy me some time and time is what I need the most. The winds of change are blowing and if I can avoid getting blown away I might be able to come out the other side in one piece. I just typed that, looked at it, and told myself "cliche." The problem is cliches, like generalizations, work because they speak the truth. What I write here is the truth and many of the people who will populate it never had enough originality to even qualify as one.
During the low moments,the late at night, strain the ears listening to nothing and everything nights, my heart beat thumping in my chest nights, I know if they want me bad enough nothing will matter. What makes it even more ironic is the only people that could help me would be more than happy to put a bullet in my head. Life is a bitch. It always has been. It will always be one.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
The Chronology of the AA Series
American Apocalypse I = American Apocalypse: The Collapse Begins
Gardener Summer
American Apocalypse II = American Apocalypse: Wastelands
Why the title changes? The publisher renamed them.
AA III
AA IV
Which should really be a Gardener book. I didn't realize that until after I published it
In process of being rewritten: The Unknown (working title) This is a Gardener book
The Chosen. This is in the same time period with different characters.
Gardener Summer
American Apocalypse II = American Apocalypse: Wastelands
Why the title changes? The publisher renamed them.
AA III
AA IV
Which should really be a Gardener book. I didn't realize that until after I published it
In process of being rewritten: The Unknown (working title) This is a Gardener book
The Chosen. This is in the same time period with different characters.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
A Pause
I will probably integrate "The Book of Chosen" with the book that is out there. If I do I will leave it on here as a free PDF for those who want it.
I am going to be rewriting "The Unknown" and getting it ready for publication so there will be a pause here for about a month or so. If anyone wants to post what they are writing in the meantime please contact me.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
I am going to be rewriting "The Unknown" and getting it ready for publication so there will be a pause here for about a month or so. If anyone wants to post what they are writing in the meantime please contact me.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Friday, October 21, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Path of Vengence c
Not all can be warriors as few warriors can cook. There is no job that is too humble if it is one that HE has set you upon. Never shall precedence given to anyone over their job. HE who rules us all sees us as bugs anyway.
Each of us has a path. Ridicule of another believer for what they do makes you one of THEM in his eyes. We are in this together, chained to each other by need, both of survival and for support in the Great Change which must come.
It will come and with it will the tide of blood. Wash your hands in it and rejoice! HE who watches is smiling as they scream! Make them scream! Make them plead. Make them piss their pants, gnash their teeth, and wail! Then send them to hell.
Each of us has a path. Ridicule of another believer for what they do makes you one of THEM in his eyes. We are in this together, chained to each other by need, both of survival and for support in the Great Change which must come.
It will come and with it will the tide of blood. Wash your hands in it and rejoice! HE who watches is smiling as they scream! Make them scream! Make them plead. Make them piss their pants, gnash their teeth, and wail! Then send them to hell.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Path of Vengence b
The work of the warrior is killing the enemies of the PEOPLE. I did not say martyr for that is not what you are called for. Enough of that has been done to the people of the world by the EVIL one. No more will WE die because of his machinations. It is their turn to pay the butchers bill with their blood.
Warriors of HE who KNOWS you must realize you are dead men walking should you embrace this path. All who do, male and female, should be honored by the community of believers when they announce their decision.
Virgins should embrace them without qualm and none that are unattached should be exempt from their summons for a period of three nights. Then all who have a grievance with them, and those they have one with, must come together if possible, and make amends. Farewells should be said and their names recited for an hour without stop should they fall.
1 Chronicles 12
8 ...They were brave warriors, ready for battle and able to handle the shield and spear. Their faces were the faces of lions, and they were as swift as gazelles in the mountains.
Warriors of HE who KNOWS you must realize you are dead men walking should you embrace this path. All who do, male and female, should be honored by the community of believers when they announce their decision.
Virgins should embrace them without qualm and none that are unattached should be exempt from their summons for a period of three nights. Then all who have a grievance with them, and those they have one with, must come together if possible, and make amends. Farewells should be said and their names recited for an hour without stop should they fall.
1 Chronicles 12
8 ...They were brave warriors, ready for battle and able to handle the shield and spear. Their faces were the faces of lions, and they were as swift as gazelles in the mountains.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Path of Vengence
Make no mistake, the road HE is calling you to is not one that will end in a quiet retirement. We bring the end of all and the beginning of the new world. The world HE will rule and it will not include greedy, blood sucking, usurious lending, lying, manipulating, worthless examples of DNA that have ever been dropped on the planet.
They will die. It is that simple. You will die too. It is that simple. You have seen what was done to those who thought peaceful protest was the answer.
Proverbs 22
22 Do not exploit the poor because they are poor
and do not crush the needy in court,
23 for the LORD will take up their case
and will exact life for life.
They will pay but it will not come cheap or easy. They have SATAN and his Minions. They have money, yes, they have a lot of money. Blood money that will be even bloodier before this is finished.
They will use it to buy souls and hire bodies. They have technology that has been twisted and shadows that dance from electrons. They will paint you with scorn and hate. Mothers will cross their arms and fathers refuse to allow you across their doorsteps. Friends will sell you and testify against you. Embrace it for it is glorious to do HIS will.
They will die. It is that simple. You will die too. It is that simple. You have seen what was done to those who thought peaceful protest was the answer.
Proverbs 22
22 Do not exploit the poor because they are poor
and do not crush the needy in court,
23 for the LORD will take up their case
and will exact life for life.
They will pay but it will not come cheap or easy. They have SATAN and his Minions. They have money, yes, they have a lot of money. Blood money that will be even bloodier before this is finished.
They will use it to buy souls and hire bodies. They have technology that has been twisted and shadows that dance from electrons. They will paint you with scorn and hate. Mothers will cross their arms and fathers refuse to allow you across their doorsteps. Friends will sell you and testify against you. Embrace it for it is glorious to do HIS will.
Monday, October 17, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - Recognizing the EVIL ones - part d
Soon the EVIL ones will fear us. They will become cautious in their movements and seek to minimize their presence among us. Do not worry. They shall be found and judged. The more they try and hide the more we shall rejoice because it is a sign that our work is successful.
Job 34:22
22 There is no deep shadow, no utter darkness,
where evildoers can hide.
Find them, they will be there. Be cunning for they will be. Use their strengths to create weakness. They must be tied to the world. We don't. They need power for their machines an information to feed on. All we need is HIM.
Embrace them when needed. Cut their grass. Watch their children. Learn about them and their friends. Let them see you as nothing but a faithful worker, be grateful for their crumbs, smile at their foibles. Listen, and learn.
Psalm 83:3
3 With cunning they conspire against your people;
they plot against those you cherish.
When the time comes, and it will come, be merciless but cunning. Be quick, but leave them with nothing as they have so many others.
Job 34:22
22 There is no deep shadow, no utter darkness,
where evildoers can hide.
Find them, they will be there. Be cunning for they will be. Use their strengths to create weakness. They must be tied to the world. We don't. They need power for their machines an information to feed on. All we need is HIM.
Embrace them when needed. Cut their grass. Watch their children. Learn about them and their friends. Let them see you as nothing but a faithful worker, be grateful for their crumbs, smile at their foibles. Listen, and learn.
Psalm 83:3
3 With cunning they conspire against your people;
they plot against those you cherish.
When the time comes, and it will come, be merciless but cunning. Be quick, but leave them with nothing as they have so many others.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - Recognizing the EVIL ones - part c
Who is the enemy?
HE who speaks to me has passed HIS judgement against many. I spent nights in prayer seeking his guidance because the list was daunting. In time, after the cleansing, will come reeducation. HE is capable of mercy. We will not be.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, will take many forms. HE realizes not all of you are capable of doing the work of a warrior of the TRUTH. Some will create the weapons. Some will feed those who wield them. Some will only be able to provide shelter and money. All are equal in his eyes. Eyes that never close. Eyes that see what was done behind closed doors and in emails that whispered across the distance.
So who is the enemy? Who received a bonus? They are the enemy. That is the first level of Minions and they can never be converted or repent for they have sinned grievously against HIM.
The second level is those who worked at the companies in senior management. The politicians that were paid off. The mortgage brokers who lied. The media manipulators. The industrialists who sold out their companies for more money and destroyed lives in the process. Those that polluted the water chasing the blood we call oil. There is much work to be done.
HE who speaks to me has passed HIS judgement against many. I spent nights in prayer seeking his guidance because the list was daunting. In time, after the cleansing, will come reeducation. HE is capable of mercy. We will not be.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, will take many forms. HE realizes not all of you are capable of doing the work of a warrior of the TRUTH. Some will create the weapons. Some will feed those who wield them. Some will only be able to provide shelter and money. All are equal in his eyes. Eyes that never close. Eyes that see what was done behind closed doors and in emails that whispered across the distance.
So who is the enemy? Who received a bonus? They are the enemy. That is the first level of Minions and they can never be converted or repent for they have sinned grievously against HIM.
The second level is those who worked at the companies in senior management. The politicians that were paid off. The mortgage brokers who lied. The media manipulators. The industrialists who sold out their companies for more money and destroyed lives in the process. Those that polluted the water chasing the blood we call oil. There is much work to be done.
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - Recognizing the EVIL ones - part b
The EVIL ones come in many sizes and shapes just like ice cream cones except they never taste good. They like to smile except when they are trying to look concerned. When they look concerned they are secretly laughing inside as they have just screwed you.
Psalm 10:3
3 He boasts about the cravings of his heart;
he blesses the greedy and reviles the LORD.
They love to use use rules and regulations that they never observe or invent as needed. They will use them against us whenever they can. Ignore them. They mean nothing. They are nothing. Nothing they say, write, blog, or broadcast means anything. Every word that comes out of their mouths is a lie. Every word, every electron, every image is a lie. They will speak the right words and do anything to convince you they mean well. Ignore that and watch their actions. Then kill them.
Deuteronomy 21:21
21 Then all the men of his town are to stone him to death. You must purge the evil from among you. All Israel will hear of it and be afraid.
Psalm 10:3
3 He boasts about the cravings of his heart;
he blesses the greedy and reviles the LORD.
They love to use use rules and regulations that they never observe or invent as needed. They will use them against us whenever they can. Ignore them. They mean nothing. They are nothing. Nothing they say, write, blog, or broadcast means anything. Every word that comes out of their mouths is a lie. Every word, every electron, every image is a lie. They will speak the right words and do anything to convince you they mean well. Ignore that and watch their actions. Then kill them.
Deuteronomy 21:21
21 Then all the men of his town are to stone him to death. You must purge the evil from among you. All Israel will hear of it and be afraid.
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - Recognizing the EVIL ones - part a
I was blind as so many of you were until I underwent the great cleansing. The cleansing is but a step upon the road of Righteousness. Yes, HE stripped me of all my worldly goods and cast me into the forest of darkness where I lived like an animal until HE opened my eyes and heart.
I resisted at first. Like a conditioned animal all I wanted was to return to my cage and grasp my chains once again. I believed in doing that all would be right and I would be saved. I was a fool. Yes. A fool.
I lost it all because I had become useless. Injured in an auto accident, I no longer could function in a way deemed satisfactory. Like a broken toy I was let go. Then the vultures of finance began to circle. No mercy was shown then and no mercy will be shown by me now.
In the forest I became just another one of creatures. I learned to scavenge and to take shelter. I existed. A non-person. I was not alone. Others prowled the darkness. Lost souls who either dreamed of when the Minions would take them back or they became something far worse. Rotten souls that embraced all the worse traits of the Demons with out any of the subtlety. Demons just wanted me to bend or, if I didn't, begone. These foul creatures wanted to physically hurt. They wanted blood of the wet and red kind instead of the dry green blood desired by the more advanced DEMONS.
HE Spoke to me. He changed it all. HE led me out of the forest but first he had to OPEN my eyes and mind. HE taught me the first of the GREAT truths and the FIRST is know thy enemy!
Once you believe their is a SATAN and what his plan is then it becomes easy to see who belongs to him and they are many. Don't despair! They can die just like any mortal. Their spirits will go back to the EVIL ONE an await their chance to infect others. We will deny them their breeding ground by changing the world! IT WILL BE SO.
ALL Bankers are under the EVIL Ones influence. Many, especially those in positions of authority are true Minions. They must be cleansed. They shall be. The bonuses they have taken are BLOOD money. Each dollar equals a soul destroyed.
Zechariah 11:17
17 “Woe to the worthless shepherd,
who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
May his arm be completely withered,
his right eye totally blinded!”
Our shepherds have failed us. They have let the wolves in upon HIS people and torn down the gates of protection.
I resisted at first. Like a conditioned animal all I wanted was to return to my cage and grasp my chains once again. I believed in doing that all would be right and I would be saved. I was a fool. Yes. A fool.
I lost it all because I had become useless. Injured in an auto accident, I no longer could function in a way deemed satisfactory. Like a broken toy I was let go. Then the vultures of finance began to circle. No mercy was shown then and no mercy will be shown by me now.
In the forest I became just another one of creatures. I learned to scavenge and to take shelter. I existed. A non-person. I was not alone. Others prowled the darkness. Lost souls who either dreamed of when the Minions would take them back or they became something far worse. Rotten souls that embraced all the worse traits of the Demons with out any of the subtlety. Demons just wanted me to bend or, if I didn't, begone. These foul creatures wanted to physically hurt. They wanted blood of the wet and red kind instead of the dry green blood desired by the more advanced DEMONS.
HE Spoke to me. He changed it all. HE led me out of the forest but first he had to OPEN my eyes and mind. HE taught me the first of the GREAT truths and the FIRST is know thy enemy!
Once you believe their is a SATAN and what his plan is then it becomes easy to see who belongs to him and they are many. Don't despair! They can die just like any mortal. Their spirits will go back to the EVIL ONE an await their chance to infect others. We will deny them their breeding ground by changing the world! IT WILL BE SO.
ALL Bankers are under the EVIL Ones influence. Many, especially those in positions of authority are true Minions. They must be cleansed. They shall be. The bonuses they have taken are BLOOD money. Each dollar equals a soul destroyed.
Zechariah 11:17
17 “Woe to the worthless shepherd,
who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
May his arm be completely withered,
his right eye totally blinded!”
Our shepherds have failed us. They have let the wolves in upon HIS people and torn down the gates of protection.
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Source c
Our world is being poisoned for profit. It is all about profit. The scoring machine of the minions of EVIL who use profit to measure their destruction of our world. Understand this, if you understand anything, PROFIT equals Enslavement. PROFIT equals chains. PROFIT equals the slow poisoning of the world. PROFIT is how HELL is being made real here, on the planet, every day! A HELL where is MINIONS have gradually frown from a cadre to an infestation.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Source b
You are owned by the Corps'. You rent the space you exist and consume from them and when you no longer have any money to offer than you are cast away into the emptiness. We have become by design throwaway people who, if we are lucky, allowed to work as human touch screens until a way is found to automate that.
The Source of all this is SATAN and his DEMONS. They exist. One may be next to you on the highway, her expensive German car whipping past you as she sips on the energy of all she passes. Another is that smiling white guy with the good hair and teeth walking past you while he jabbers into, and receives his commands from his cell phone.
While SATAN prowled this earth since time began only now can he buy souls for next to nothing. They are massed produced for him, trained by his MINIONS, and fed to his consumer machine.
Machines take jobs! It is in EVIL's interest to make the masses hungry, useless, and enslaved. They make you feel ugly and then sell you beauty. They make you fearful and sell you security. Everything is for sale, the terms are easy, the payment is your life, and you lap it up like cats who have been favored with a bowl of cream.
First THEY gathered us like cattle in the work ghettos THEY called factories. There they used us like flesh robots and used it us until we broke. Never was the money enough so they offered us credit. To make sure we used it THEY programmed our brains to want. WANT! ALWAYS WANTING! NEVER SATISFIED!
We don't wear clothes. We wear labels. We don't drive transportation. We drive dreams. We drive our nonexistent sex drive. We drive our manliness.
THEY steal our sex drive with work and worry and make us pay for chemicals to artificially inflate our cocks. Woman are turned into plastic dolls by choice so they can have access to plastic money to buy plastic shit from children in sweatshops.
The Source of all this is SATAN and his DEMONS. They exist. One may be next to you on the highway, her expensive German car whipping past you as she sips on the energy of all she passes. Another is that smiling white guy with the good hair and teeth walking past you while he jabbers into, and receives his commands from his cell phone.
While SATAN prowled this earth since time began only now can he buy souls for next to nothing. They are massed produced for him, trained by his MINIONS, and fed to his consumer machine.
Machines take jobs! It is in EVIL's interest to make the masses hungry, useless, and enslaved. They make you feel ugly and then sell you beauty. They make you fearful and sell you security. Everything is for sale, the terms are easy, the payment is your life, and you lap it up like cats who have been favored with a bowl of cream.
First THEY gathered us like cattle in the work ghettos THEY called factories. There they used us like flesh robots and used it us until we broke. Never was the money enough so they offered us credit. To make sure we used it THEY programmed our brains to want. WANT! ALWAYS WANTING! NEVER SATISFIED!
We don't wear clothes. We wear labels. We don't drive transportation. We drive dreams. We drive our nonexistent sex drive. We drive our manliness.
THEY steal our sex drive with work and worry and make us pay for chemicals to artificially inflate our cocks. Woman are turned into plastic dolls by choice so they can have access to plastic money to buy plastic shit from children in sweatshops.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Source a
Blind is what you are and I was once too before the shadow of the LORD slapped me down and filled my brain with visions to dark for me to understand at first for heavy were the scales upon my inner eye.
We are fish, we swim in their sea, in water that was once pure but now is dark as their hearts. Yet we never notice until our eyes are opened by HIM or his voice among us.
Know this for I speak the TRUTH! To truly see the world you must disconnect yourself from the tentacles woven into your brain.
Once there was a man, much like you perhaps, who gripped the chains of bondage tightly and never understood that all he had to do was open his hands and let go.
That is only the first step for the EVIL one will not let you slip away that easy. Once you would have been ridiculed, spoken of as insane but the vision is spreading and you are no longer alone.
How did this evil begin? It was always with us some would say and they would be both right and wrong. It began with machines. Yes, machines, for they spawned automation and automation is the sword of the DEVILS minions, the bloodless heart ripper of man with teeth of steel.
It began when money no longer became a medium of exchange and instead became the medium of life. The qualifier of souls, the measure of success,and the aphrodisiac of the feeble ass lickers and sociopaths.
We are fish, we swim in their sea, in water that was once pure but now is dark as their hearts. Yet we never notice until our eyes are opened by HIM or his voice among us.
Know this for I speak the TRUTH! To truly see the world you must disconnect yourself from the tentacles woven into your brain.
Once there was a man, much like you perhaps, who gripped the chains of bondage tightly and never understood that all he had to do was open his hands and let go.
That is only the first step for the EVIL one will not let you slip away that easy. Once you would have been ridiculed, spoken of as insane but the vision is spreading and you are no longer alone.
How did this evil begin? It was always with us some would say and they would be both right and wrong. It began with machines. Yes, machines, for they spawned automation and automation is the sword of the DEVILS minions, the bloodless heart ripper of man with teeth of steel.
It began when money no longer became a medium of exchange and instead became the medium of life. The qualifier of souls, the measure of success,and the aphrodisiac of the feeble ass lickers and sociopaths.
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Source
All is wrapped in evil like the fog and breath of drunken old men who taste the bitterness of rained out years on their tongues as they stare into the cracked mirror that is their life.
HE KNOWS! America was not the first.
Psalm 78
32 In spite of all this, they kept on sinning;
in spite of his wonders, they did not believe.
33 So he ended their days in futility
and their years in terror.
34 Whenever God slew them, they would seek him;
they eagerly turned to him again.
35 They remembered that God was their Rock,
that God Most High was their Redeemer.
36 But then they would flatter him with their mouths,
lying to him with their tongues;
37 their hearts were not loyal to him,
they were not faithful to his covenant.
38 Yet he was merciful;
he forgave their iniquities
and did not destroy them.
Time after time he restrained his anger
and did not stir up his full wrath.
39 He remembered that they were but flesh,
a passing breeze that does not return.
Evil whispers to us in the music that echoes in our heads. The lyrics, twisted by desire, are naught but a drug delivered by the media delivery system that is but a razor and songs but blades to cut us open. Infected by their desires we dance captive to their designs of illusions, breasts, and light that shine on out stretched hands as we grasp for air.
Stop! I say Stop my brothers and sisters and disconnect your ears from the tentacles of the corporate squid! Close your eyes to the glowing backlit soulless siphon of this SATAN!
Thumbs twitching, eyeballs jerking, mainlining media like puppets who wonder why they jerk so helter skelter among a world they never see anymore!
Pumping into the mindstream vacuous cravings that you have pawned your life for. Nothing satisfies as you jerk on the hook of desire and swim in their mindless greed.
HE KNOWS! America was not the first.
Psalm 78
32 In spite of all this, they kept on sinning;
in spite of his wonders, they did not believe.
33 So he ended their days in futility
and their years in terror.
34 Whenever God slew them, they would seek him;
they eagerly turned to him again.
35 They remembered that God was their Rock,
that God Most High was their Redeemer.
36 But then they would flatter him with their mouths,
lying to him with their tongues;
37 their hearts were not loyal to him,
they were not faithful to his covenant.
38 Yet he was merciful;
he forgave their iniquities
and did not destroy them.
Time after time he restrained his anger
and did not stir up his full wrath.
39 He remembered that they were but flesh,
a passing breeze that does not return.
Evil whispers to us in the music that echoes in our heads. The lyrics, twisted by desire, are naught but a drug delivered by the media delivery system that is but a razor and songs but blades to cut us open. Infected by their desires we dance captive to their designs of illusions, breasts, and light that shine on out stretched hands as we grasp for air.
Stop! I say Stop my brothers and sisters and disconnect your ears from the tentacles of the corporate squid! Close your eyes to the glowing backlit soulless siphon of this SATAN!
Thumbs twitching, eyeballs jerking, mainlining media like puppets who wonder why they jerk so helter skelter among a world they never see anymore!
Pumping into the mindstream vacuous cravings that you have pawned your life for. Nothing satisfies as you jerk on the hook of desire and swim in their mindless greed.
The Book of Chosen - Apocrypha - The Begining
I am the Chosen One and HE who speaks in thunder and gravel has anointed me as his most righteous Prophet. I am nothing. What will follow is HIS WORD and not of mine. Believe it or Perish in the days to come!
Friday, October 7, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 16 - by nova
The group was already gone with the exception of Miller who had decided, without asking me, to stay on the road with me. The squad, such as it was, was either scrambling up the sandstone the road was cut through or already out of sight.
I looked around, it was a beautiful day, and far away from any place I called home. As soon as I thought that I had to laugh. I had no home, I just had places memories had happened in. If this all worked out then this would be another one.
The road had been cut through sandstone, each side was ragged but a climb straight up of about fifteen feet. That was why I was down on the road with the bus. No way in hell I was going to climb that today.
I walked over to the rear wheel and sat down with my back against it. The way the bus was parked made where I was sitting the only gap between the it and the sandstone. If I stayed beyond the wheel I wouldn't be seen and I would have some protection against incoming rounds. It was a plan. Not much of I had to admit, but a plan. I was never all that good with a rifle anyway. If I was going to make a difference it would have to wait until they got in close.
Miller took the other wheel and began laying out his magazines and grenades.
"You want a grenade or two Gardener?"
"No."
I waited a minute or two and asked him, "What the hell you doing here Miller?"
"Down here with you? My job."
"No. I mean riding to the rescue."
"Well, there was what they told us and what I think is going on."
"Explain Miller."
"You're a big deal, hell, you're a legend, everyone knows you, or thinks they do."
I told him, "But there is another reason. Right Miller."
"Yeah, it's how things are run and done these days." He didn't sound to happy about it either. "It was a lot simpler when I started doing this. What I think is that in the big picture we're here to win the hearts and minds of the Navajo. This area, and the people in it, are in the right place for the move to take back the rest of the west coast, you know, the place that used to be Southern California."
"Yeah. Max always thought big. He wants it all. Him and Freya."
He shrugged. "What we leave behind is always better then what we found."
I laughed. "Sure it is. After you've killed most of the people who might disagree with you it is easy to set things in order."
"Isn't that what you do?"
He had a point. I didn't answer him. I didn't feel like I needed to. It didn't matter anyway.
We had some time. At least ten minutes which was good. I was tired. I was also cold, probably because I was in the shade. I thought about moving into the sun but it wasn't worth it. I wondered how Ninja was doing. It would be good to see him and Max again. Maybe after this I would go North and see them. Hell, the way they were moving I could go back to Virginia. I liked that even better. I missed Virginia or whatever it was called now. I didn't like to think about it but I had outlived, lost, or moved away from everything that meant something to me.
I was glad when I heard the sound of engines. It killed what was turning into a really morbid line of thought. My guess was they had scouts running ahead of the main body on motorcycles. I closed my eyes again. Millers people could handle this. They did. I didn't even bother to look. I just listened and saw it unfold.
Two outriders, both going faster than they should have been, saw the bus and slowed down later than they should have. They got the part were only one approaches while the other hangs back almost right. Almost in that the one who hung back thought he was out of range from who ever was at the bus ambush. He wasn't. His partner went down about thirty paces from me. Miller rolled out from behind the wheel and shot him from a prone position from under the bus. The SAW reached out and finished his partner before he could get headed back to warn the main body.
I looked around, it was a beautiful day, and far away from any place I called home. As soon as I thought that I had to laugh. I had no home, I just had places memories had happened in. If this all worked out then this would be another one.
The road had been cut through sandstone, each side was ragged but a climb straight up of about fifteen feet. That was why I was down on the road with the bus. No way in hell I was going to climb that today.
I walked over to the rear wheel and sat down with my back against it. The way the bus was parked made where I was sitting the only gap between the it and the sandstone. If I stayed beyond the wheel I wouldn't be seen and I would have some protection against incoming rounds. It was a plan. Not much of I had to admit, but a plan. I was never all that good with a rifle anyway. If I was going to make a difference it would have to wait until they got in close.
Miller took the other wheel and began laying out his magazines and grenades.
"You want a grenade or two Gardener?"
"No."
I waited a minute or two and asked him, "What the hell you doing here Miller?"
"Down here with you? My job."
"No. I mean riding to the rescue."
"Well, there was what they told us and what I think is going on."
"Explain Miller."
"You're a big deal, hell, you're a legend, everyone knows you, or thinks they do."
I told him, "But there is another reason. Right Miller."
"Yeah, it's how things are run and done these days." He didn't sound to happy about it either. "It was a lot simpler when I started doing this. What I think is that in the big picture we're here to win the hearts and minds of the Navajo. This area, and the people in it, are in the right place for the move to take back the rest of the west coast, you know, the place that used to be Southern California."
"Yeah. Max always thought big. He wants it all. Him and Freya."
He shrugged. "What we leave behind is always better then what we found."
I laughed. "Sure it is. After you've killed most of the people who might disagree with you it is easy to set things in order."
"Isn't that what you do?"
He had a point. I didn't answer him. I didn't feel like I needed to. It didn't matter anyway.
We had some time. At least ten minutes which was good. I was tired. I was also cold, probably because I was in the shade. I thought about moving into the sun but it wasn't worth it. I wondered how Ninja was doing. It would be good to see him and Max again. Maybe after this I would go North and see them. Hell, the way they were moving I could go back to Virginia. I liked that even better. I missed Virginia or whatever it was called now. I didn't like to think about it but I had outlived, lost, or moved away from everything that meant something to me.
I was glad when I heard the sound of engines. It killed what was turning into a really morbid line of thought. My guess was they had scouts running ahead of the main body on motorcycles. I closed my eyes again. Millers people could handle this. They did. I didn't even bother to look. I just listened and saw it unfold.
Two outriders, both going faster than they should have been, saw the bus and slowed down later than they should have. They got the part were only one approaches while the other hangs back almost right. Almost in that the one who hung back thought he was out of range from who ever was at the bus ambush. He wasn't. His partner went down about thirty paces from me. Miller rolled out from behind the wheel and shot him from a prone position from under the bus. The SAW reached out and finished his partner before he could get headed back to warn the main body.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 15d - by nova
I was the first off the bus. That was part of the job too. I stood off to one side with Miller. As Rodriguez, and the guy with the SAW, got off they would pause, look around, stare at a spot and look at Miller. He would nod and they would take off.
The people themselves? The men looked grim, the women stone faced, and the kids excited. Each adult took a second to try and smile at me or nod. No words. Just that. 2nd squad had them moving. As they passed me they each saluted. That was more than a little strange. I didn't return it. I just gave them the nod too. I knew how to salute, I just never felt right doing it.
Their Captain joined me and Miller and we all watched Kat get off the bus. She didn't say anything to me. She just kept on going. I guess she figured she said all she had to say. She might have but I hadn't. I called her name and watched as she reluctantly turned around. She was crying. I gestured for her to come to me. She didn't bother to wipe away the tears when she stood in front of me. She just looked at me.
"Here."
I pulled the Colt Navy out of my belt and handed to her.
"Why me?"
"Why not."
She almost smiled, almost said something, but instead she turned and ran off. She had a great ass.
"Time for me go sir." It was the other Captain.
"Okay."
I mean what was the deal here? Just go. Hell, we didn't have time for this. I was getting that feeling, the one that told me it was time to get ready for the storm.
He saluted me, then said, "It's an honor. I envy you Miller."
"Right." I told him. "Get your ass out of here."
He grinned and was gone too.
"Okay Miller. You need to salute or anything?'
"No Gardener."
"Good. Pick a spot and go find it."
He looked at me like he was going to say something profound or worse.
"Just do it."
I walked off. I knew where I was going and what I was going to do. Maybe drugs weren't that bad after all.
The people themselves? The men looked grim, the women stone faced, and the kids excited. Each adult took a second to try and smile at me or nod. No words. Just that. 2nd squad had them moving. As they passed me they each saluted. That was more than a little strange. I didn't return it. I just gave them the nod too. I knew how to salute, I just never felt right doing it.
Their Captain joined me and Miller and we all watched Kat get off the bus. She didn't say anything to me. She just kept on going. I guess she figured she said all she had to say. She might have but I hadn't. I called her name and watched as she reluctantly turned around. She was crying. I gestured for her to come to me. She didn't bother to wipe away the tears when she stood in front of me. She just looked at me.
"Here."
I pulled the Colt Navy out of my belt and handed to her.
"Why me?"
"Why not."
She almost smiled, almost said something, but instead she turned and ran off. She had a great ass.
"Time for me go sir." It was the other Captain.
"Okay."
I mean what was the deal here? Just go. Hell, we didn't have time for this. I was getting that feeling, the one that told me it was time to get ready for the storm.
He saluted me, then said, "It's an honor. I envy you Miller."
"Right." I told him. "Get your ass out of here."
He grinned and was gone too.
"Okay Miller. You need to salute or anything?'
"No Gardener."
"Good. Pick a spot and go find it."
He looked at me like he was going to say something profound or worse.
"Just do it."
I walked off. I knew where I was going and what I was going to do. Maybe drugs weren't that bad after all.
The Unknown - Chapter 15c - by nova
It was time in no time. It wasn't always that way. I used to count the seconds before an action. This time they just rolled by me, almost unnoticed. I must have drifted away because all of sudden Miller was sitting next to me and repeating my name.
"What Miller."
"Time to do it."
"Fuck. Okay. I want our people to each have 250 rounds, all the water they can carry, and nothing else. I want the Barrett guy..." I tried to remember his name, shit it was gone, to come with us too. Also..."
He cut me off, firmly, quietly, but never the less he cut me off. "I did all that. We're out of .50 and we don't have 250 rounds per man unless you want to send 2nd Squad away with three magazines a piece."
"You burned though that much ammo?"
"No. We came light. Had to. We were going for speed and humping heavy hardware. We look good for the SAW but otherwise we go with what we got.
The bus was slowing.
"Okay Miller. Block the road with the bus. Get everyone moving towards the chapter house on foot. Two miles is less then 20 minutes. The terrain is to rough for anyone to follow by vehicle after they get past the there. Let 2nd Squad do the rearguard action."
"I've already arranged for all that Gardener."
I thought about that. "So whats left Captain?"
"Our jobs sir."
I had to laugh at that. "Yeah. You got that right."
"What Miller."
"Time to do it."
"Fuck. Okay. I want our people to each have 250 rounds, all the water they can carry, and nothing else. I want the Barrett guy..." I tried to remember his name, shit it was gone, to come with us too. Also..."
He cut me off, firmly, quietly, but never the less he cut me off. "I did all that. We're out of .50 and we don't have 250 rounds per man unless you want to send 2nd Squad away with three magazines a piece."
"You burned though that much ammo?"
"No. We came light. Had to. We were going for speed and humping heavy hardware. We look good for the SAW but otherwise we go with what we got.
The bus was slowing.
"Okay Miller. Block the road with the bus. Get everyone moving towards the chapter house on foot. Two miles is less then 20 minutes. The terrain is to rough for anyone to follow by vehicle after they get past the there. Let 2nd Squad do the rearguard action."
"I've already arranged for all that Gardener."
I thought about that. "So whats left Captain?"
"Our jobs sir."
I had to laugh at that. "Yeah. You got that right."
The Unknown - Chapter 15b - by nova
I leaned my head back and let my mind idle. That didn't work out so well. Fat, nasty thoughts with swollen bellies crept out from under the rocks and began whispering, "You're a cripple. You're a cripple" or "You're going to die!" I didn't mind the dying taunts. The cripple ones I could have done with out. I gave up. I looked out the window and was watching the passing nothing when Kat slid into the empty space next to me. She didn't say anything. She just held out her hand, opened it, and I recognized the two yellow footballs on it. I took them, dry swallowed them, started choking, and drank from the water bottle she handed me.
"Thanks."
I closed my eyes again. I was hoping she would go away. She didn't. I waited for a couple of minutes. I was going to have to get ready to go in about 20 minutes. I wanted to ride the Oxy until then. Not talk. Without opening my eyes I told her, "Usually when someone closes their eyes it means they want you to go away."
"That's not always true. You could just be sleepy."
"I'm not."
She thought about that but she didn't move. Instead she said, "I know what you're going to do."
I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead. "I don't know what I'm going to do. It's kinda like how I lead my life. So you don't know."
She didn't argue. Instead she said, "Look at me."
I looked at her and she kissed me hard on the lips and whispered, "Goodbye. You were the best."
"Were?" Echoed in my head. I banished it. I didn't have time to dwell on shit like that right now.
I went back to watching nothing roll past and what kind of load out we'd need.
"Thanks."
I closed my eyes again. I was hoping she would go away. She didn't. I waited for a couple of minutes. I was going to have to get ready to go in about 20 minutes. I wanted to ride the Oxy until then. Not talk. Without opening my eyes I told her, "Usually when someone closes their eyes it means they want you to go away."
"That's not always true. You could just be sleepy."
"I'm not."
She thought about that but she didn't move. Instead she said, "I know what you're going to do."
I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead. "I don't know what I'm going to do. It's kinda like how I lead my life. So you don't know."
She didn't argue. Instead she said, "Look at me."
I looked at her and she kissed me hard on the lips and whispered, "Goodbye. You were the best."
"Were?" Echoed in my head. I banished it. I didn't have time to dwell on shit like that right now.
I went back to watching nothing roll past and what kind of load out we'd need.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 15 - by nova
"Talk to me Miller."
"Sir, we lost four adult locals inside. Two have minor wounds. Sargent Kim has a leg wound. He is good for the next 48 hours. We are good for one engagement as far as ammo goes. Your turn."
"We are being pursued, or will be shortly, by the remains of the unit that was trying to take the bridge." I didn't want to tell them I had been dropped by the big picture people, I had learned about morale and how important it was to act like we had the winning hand even when I knew we didn't. I did the math, compared my estimate of their speed to ours, and came to a conclusion I wasn't ready to share yet.
We're good."
I had to stop talking and grit my teeth. What ever he did had just hurt like a bitch. Just as that passed we hit a bunk, my arm moved, and the pain returned just as bad.
When I felt I could talk again, I said "Hey medic. You got a name?"
"Cat Daddy."
"Bind the arm to me."
He looked at me, with the exception of Kat, the rest had looked away, I stared at him.
"Fine. Hang on. I got to dump some magic potion on it and then wrap it."
I braced myself for the pain of the magic potion. It was the right thing to do. This time it was bad enough that I almost threw up on my recently repaired boots. Life was good sometimes.
"Sir, we lost four adult locals inside. Two have minor wounds. Sargent Kim has a leg wound. He is good for the next 48 hours. We are good for one engagement as far as ammo goes. Your turn."
"We are being pursued, or will be shortly, by the remains of the unit that was trying to take the bridge." I didn't want to tell them I had been dropped by the big picture people, I had learned about morale and how important it was to act like we had the winning hand even when I knew we didn't. I did the math, compared my estimate of their speed to ours, and came to a conclusion I wasn't ready to share yet.
We're good."
I had to stop talking and grit my teeth. What ever he did had just hurt like a bitch. Just as that passed we hit a bunk, my arm moved, and the pain returned just as bad.
When I felt I could talk again, I said "Hey medic. You got a name?"
"Cat Daddy."
"Bind the arm to me."
He looked at me, with the exception of Kat, the rest had looked away, I stared at him.
"Fine. Hang on. I got to dump some magic potion on it and then wrap it."
I braced myself for the pain of the magic potion. It was the right thing to do. This time it was bad enough that I almost threw up on my recently repaired boots. Life was good sometimes.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 14g - by nova
Miller looked at me, shook his head, and walked away flashing hand signs to pull the security team in. I couldn't move. I was leaning against the side of the school building watching without watching. I couldn't focus, all I was able to do was observe. What was hovering around inside me was the desire to just drift off like a balloon. I knew I had felt this before, sometime, somewhere, I just couldn't remember where.
Miller had stopped. He was staring at me, then gesturing for me to move. It was time to go. I wasn't sure I wanted to. It wasn't fear or lassitude, it was the realization that if I moved, my world would move too. I wasn't sure how, I just knew it. I looked past Miller at the bus. Smoke was belching from the crude stack at the back as the wood fired engine came up to speed. Kat stood in the door, concern on her face. I knew any second she would be off the bus and running to me. From the windows I saw the faces, the faces of children, and so I moved.
In doing so something snapped inside of me. Clarity returned. The pain stayed but I could live with that for now. I jogged to the bus which began moving when I was within five paces of it. Kat was there to meet me as was Miller. I ignored her look of concern.
"Kat. I want an adult next to the windows and the kids next to them. Miller, space our people out between them. I want you and Rodriguez up front here with me, ready to go." The wood burning machinery took up all the space in the back so we had that working for us. I wanted to keep the ring of bodies around them for as long as possible.
The Barrett guy pushed pass Miller and Kat and told me, "Take a seat. Let's check out the damage." They had kept a seat open for me behind the driver. I sat down and he started peeling off the wound bandages. I looked down and saw the white of splintered bone. I looked away but not before seeing his eyes change. I knew. He knew. I would be lucky to have a stump left.
Miller had stopped. He was staring at me, then gesturing for me to move. It was time to go. I wasn't sure I wanted to. It wasn't fear or lassitude, it was the realization that if I moved, my world would move too. I wasn't sure how, I just knew it. I looked past Miller at the bus. Smoke was belching from the crude stack at the back as the wood fired engine came up to speed. Kat stood in the door, concern on her face. I knew any second she would be off the bus and running to me. From the windows I saw the faces, the faces of children, and so I moved.
In doing so something snapped inside of me. Clarity returned. The pain stayed but I could live with that for now. I jogged to the bus which began moving when I was within five paces of it. Kat was there to meet me as was Miller. I ignored her look of concern.
"Kat. I want an adult next to the windows and the kids next to them. Miller, space our people out between them. I want you and Rodriguez up front here with me, ready to go." The wood burning machinery took up all the space in the back so we had that working for us. I wanted to keep the ring of bodies around them for as long as possible.
The Barrett guy pushed pass Miller and Kat and told me, "Take a seat. Let's check out the damage." They had kept a seat open for me behind the driver. I sat down and he started peeling off the wound bandages. I looked down and saw the white of splintered bone. I looked away but not before seeing his eyes change. I knew. He knew. I would be lucky to have a stump left.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 14e - by nova
Now came the tricky part, the linkup with our people. This was where, if done wrong,or even right sometimes, a dumbass would shoot you because they were jumpy. We pulled it off with minimal shouting and zero shooting.
Kat came running up to me. I was pleased to see the relief on her face that I was still alive but I didn't have the concern when she saw I was hit.
"Oh my god! You've been shot!"
If she asked me if it hurt it was going to be hard to resist the urge to knock her upside the head. I hurt, hurt badly, and it was making me short tempered. Instead she asked me, "Did you kill the asshole?"
"No. Rodriguez did." I wasn't sure of that. Was it him or Miller? I was having problems concentrating. "Do the buses have first-aid kits?"
"I don't know. I can check."
"Good. Do it."
I wasn't the only one hurt. Second squad had one with a leg wound and one of the parents was dying. Not bad work.
Miller was getting everyone moving. The parents, instead of being mindless cattle bitching about whatever was on their little minds were helping. I could remember a time when that would have been a miracle. Now it was a rarity.
Kat came running up to me. I was pleased to see the relief on her face that I was still alive but I didn't have the concern when she saw I was hit.
"Oh my god! You've been shot!"
If she asked me if it hurt it was going to be hard to resist the urge to knock her upside the head. I hurt, hurt badly, and it was making me short tempered. Instead she asked me, "Did you kill the asshole?"
"No. Rodriguez did." I wasn't sure of that. Was it him or Miller? I was having problems concentrating. "Do the buses have first-aid kits?"
"I don't know. I can check."
"Good. Do it."
I wasn't the only one hurt. Second squad had one with a leg wound and one of the parents was dying. Not bad work.
Miller was getting everyone moving. The parents, instead of being mindless cattle bitching about whatever was on their little minds were helping. I could remember a time when that would have been a miracle. Now it was a rarity.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 14d - by nova
Instead Miller hustled over to me, took a quick look, and started cutting away my shirt. "Give me your bandage. He fished out his, and yelled the same thing at Rodriquez. I fished mine out and handed it to him. Rodriguez got close enough to check out the damage, shot the look at Miller, tossed him his wound dressing, and started moving kids.
He yelled, "Single file, inside voices, oldest at the rear. Lets go people!"
"We got to go Miller."
"Shut up Gardener."
That set me back. I felt the anger flare, then I laughed an asked him, "That bad?"
He ignored that. "Hang on. Almost done." He cut away part of his left leg trouser and used the fabric to bind the wound bandages in place.
"Okay Gardener. I got morphine. You want?"
"No."
You think you're going to go into shock let me know."
"Yeah. Lets go."
He took the lead after grabbing the AK, slinging it, and pulling a magazine from the asshole that shot me.
Sweet Jesus, the pain was talking to me. I ran my pain routines, I had a high tolerance for it, having experienced more then my share, but this was bad.
We made it about 10 paces when I yelled to Miller, "Take drag. I'm going up front with Rodriquez."
He started to say something, changed his mind, and scowled at me as I went past.
As I passed the kids I checked them out. Some of them looked scared but most of them looked bored. One of the boys, maybe 12, quietly called out to me, "Give me a gun mister. I can shoot."
"Later kid."
I saw Rodriguez drop to a knee, look around the corner, then let rip with a full auto burst. He ducked back, grinned at me, pulled a grenade, twisted the bottom, and tossed skittering along the floor. It made for a nice satisfying scream a couple of beats later.
He jumped out, let go with one three round burst and moved out. I caught up and took the other side of the hall. If going into the gym was messy this was a lot worse. No body parts blown off but the four Apaches in the hallway were leaking blood from a lot of different places. Mixed in with the blood on the floor were nickel sized pieces of metal. I heard the kids murmuring and thought my hearing had been scrambled until I realized it was Dine they were speaking.
He yelled, "Single file, inside voices, oldest at the rear. Lets go people!"
"We got to go Miller."
"Shut up Gardener."
That set me back. I felt the anger flare, then I laughed an asked him, "That bad?"
He ignored that. "Hang on. Almost done." He cut away part of his left leg trouser and used the fabric to bind the wound bandages in place.
"Okay Gardener. I got morphine. You want?"
"No."
You think you're going to go into shock let me know."
"Yeah. Lets go."
He took the lead after grabbing the AK, slinging it, and pulling a magazine from the asshole that shot me.
Sweet Jesus, the pain was talking to me. I ran my pain routines, I had a high tolerance for it, having experienced more then my share, but this was bad.
We made it about 10 paces when I yelled to Miller, "Take drag. I'm going up front with Rodriquez."
He started to say something, changed his mind, and scowled at me as I went past.
As I passed the kids I checked them out. Some of them looked scared but most of them looked bored. One of the boys, maybe 12, quietly called out to me, "Give me a gun mister. I can shoot."
"Later kid."
I saw Rodriguez drop to a knee, look around the corner, then let rip with a full auto burst. He ducked back, grinned at me, pulled a grenade, twisted the bottom, and tossed skittering along the floor. It made for a nice satisfying scream a couple of beats later.
He jumped out, let go with one three round burst and moved out. I caught up and took the other side of the hall. If going into the gym was messy this was a lot worse. No body parts blown off but the four Apaches in the hallway were leaking blood from a lot of different places. Mixed in with the blood on the floor were nickel sized pieces of metal. I heard the kids murmuring and thought my hearing had been scrambled until I realized it was Dine they were speaking.
Monday, September 26, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 14b - by nova
In the background I heard the 2nd squad machine gun open up and the burst of a hand grenade. I never heard one of the new ones they were carrying go off but I hoped they were the only ones with them. I also hoped they didn't kill of all the hostages saving them.
I knew we were going to take casualties, the rarity was not taking any, I just didn't want any screamers until we got everyone loaded up and moving. I also had a real problem with wounded and dead kids.
All this was running through my head while I worked on orientating myself. I was about to lead us back the way Rodriquez was facing when I heard a kid scream from the opposite direction. The same one the three Apaches had come from. I started running in that direction. The scream which, in my head at least, had never stopped.
The only thing I did right next was take the corner wide. I wasn't thinking anymore. I was slipping away fast to a place I had only come close to, and not all that often in the past few years, the place where I didn't give a shit. I didn't think. I didn't care. Where everything happened in slow motion around me, where only one thing mattered and that was to kill. I had already tasted it today, now I gulped it and I loved it.
I knew we were going to take casualties, the rarity was not taking any, I just didn't want any screamers until we got everyone loaded up and moving. I also had a real problem with wounded and dead kids.
All this was running through my head while I worked on orientating myself. I was about to lead us back the way Rodriquez was facing when I heard a kid scream from the opposite direction. The same one the three Apaches had come from. I started running in that direction. The scream which, in my head at least, had never stopped.
The only thing I did right next was take the corner wide. I wasn't thinking anymore. I was slipping away fast to a place I had only come close to, and not all that often in the past few years, the place where I didn't give a shit. I didn't think. I didn't care. Where everything happened in slow motion around me, where only one thing mattered and that was to kill. I had already tasted it today, now I gulped it and I loved it.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 14a - by nova
I thought I was through. In an action adventure movie from my childhood I would have been. In those movies no one got hung up on drywall. No, but I did. It enraged me and I was flailing away when I was hit hard from behind and popped through the drywall. I stumbled in the room and narrowly avoided stumbling over an old copier paper box filled with Christmas decorations. The light in the room went away and came back as quickly as the third man, Rodriquez, passed through the hole.
I looked at them, listened to what I could hear on the other side of the door which was boots running, grabbed the door handle, and hit the hallway, hugging the right side as I did. I had Sword out, my read of the boot heels had them 20 feet down from the door as I went out. My peripheral vision registered Miller taking the opposite side of the hallway giving us both clear lanes while Rodriguez, I knew without looking, was facing the other way behind us covering our backs.
It was funny, the expression on the three Apaches faces, charging down the hall, now maybe 8 paces from us, when they saw us pop out of the door. So funny that I laughed. Then I stepped forward and swung sword overhand and down at an angle catching the lead Apache on the collarbone and slicing down and in. Sword was a Sword 1.0 version which meant it had no groove in the blade. It had a tendency to get stuck when skewering people. Usually only when you needed it not to. So I sliced instead. It was also more fun.
As the blade connected I yelled "Freya!" Let go of Sword, stepped into the lane of the man on my right and kicked him in the balls. Then I drew my right hand Ruger and shot him. The kicking in the balls part could have been skipped but I got more from it than I did from slicing his partner.
I looked at them, listened to what I could hear on the other side of the door which was boots running, grabbed the door handle, and hit the hallway, hugging the right side as I did. I had Sword out, my read of the boot heels had them 20 feet down from the door as I went out. My peripheral vision registered Miller taking the opposite side of the hallway giving us both clear lanes while Rodriguez, I knew without looking, was facing the other way behind us covering our backs.
It was funny, the expression on the three Apaches faces, charging down the hall, now maybe 8 paces from us, when they saw us pop out of the door. So funny that I laughed. Then I stepped forward and swung sword overhand and down at an angle catching the lead Apache on the collarbone and slicing down and in. Sword was a Sword 1.0 version which meant it had no groove in the blade. It had a tendency to get stuck when skewering people. Usually only when you needed it not to. So I sliced instead. It was also more fun.
As the blade connected I yelled "Freya!" Let go of Sword, stepped into the lane of the man on my right and kicked him in the balls. Then I drew my right hand Ruger and shot him. The kicking in the balls part could have been skipped but I got more from it than I did from slicing his partner.
Friday, September 23, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 14 - by nova
I don't know what the signal was supposed to be. I didn't care. I did know that over planning and fussy shit had messed up more ops than the enemy had. I came up over the lip like one of my ancestors did in the trenches of Verdun with a lot more success. I was still alive 20 paces later and picking up speed.
I thought running along the base of the mesa was good. This was a 100 times better. This was like drinking a bottle of cold clean well water after a couple weeks of boiled, treated, and not made any better by the addition of mint leaves liquid that poured and tasted brown.
"Oh fuck yeah. Thank you Freya you bitch," went through my head while my eyes read every window, door, and ripple in the flow. It was rippling, no, it was twisting. The images I had locked away until now were hammering away at the doors. My shadow self grinned and began unlocking them for me without asking. Shadow self knew it was time.
They flowed...
She is four. She is scared. The man with the gun tells her, "Stop the crying kid or I'll give you something to cry about." He grins. His grin scares her even more. She cries louder. She is terrified. He scowls, lets his rifle go and the 3 point sling catches it. He moves toward her, bends down, grabs her feet and dashes her brains out against the wall.
I am howling. The sand of the field should be slowing me down. It isn't. I am flying. My feet make contact for a blink and I cover yards.
Another...
He doesn't want to go into the back room. Pain lives there and their smiles don't fool him. They made him shower today and he knows that is a bad, bad sign. He is prepared. His friend, the one they took last time, whispered to him about the room. He isn't going there. The piece of glass he found is fished from his pocket. He tells himself it won't hurt that much. It doesn't really. He has hurt worse more times than he can remember. He hopes his mom will remember him.
In the background the Barrett booms. Good. Start up the drums and let the music begin. I can't see the center of the two buildings anymore. We are running at an angle now to the big building. The kid building. The machine gun is pumping out its staccato beat. Oh yes. Let it begin! Other instruments begin playing. I fade them.
We're against the wall. Miller is swinging his sledge. Both of them now are slamming the iron heads into the cinder block. They have done this before. Their rhythm is perfect. "Faster!" I scream. At least that is what I wanted to scream. What came out was a roar of longing, hate, and unfulfilled desire to make the men behind that wall die.
They each are cutting a line, in the middle between them the cinder block is crumbling, trembling, waiting to be shoved aside. I step back ten paces and run full tilt into it. Almost. Back. Again. I'm through.
It's time to hunt.
I thought running along the base of the mesa was good. This was a 100 times better. This was like drinking a bottle of cold clean well water after a couple weeks of boiled, treated, and not made any better by the addition of mint leaves liquid that poured and tasted brown.
"Oh fuck yeah. Thank you Freya you bitch," went through my head while my eyes read every window, door, and ripple in the flow. It was rippling, no, it was twisting. The images I had locked away until now were hammering away at the doors. My shadow self grinned and began unlocking them for me without asking. Shadow self knew it was time.
They flowed...
She is four. She is scared. The man with the gun tells her, "Stop the crying kid or I'll give you something to cry about." He grins. His grin scares her even more. She cries louder. She is terrified. He scowls, lets his rifle go and the 3 point sling catches it. He moves toward her, bends down, grabs her feet and dashes her brains out against the wall.
I am howling. The sand of the field should be slowing me down. It isn't. I am flying. My feet make contact for a blink and I cover yards.
Another...
He doesn't want to go into the back room. Pain lives there and their smiles don't fool him. They made him shower today and he knows that is a bad, bad sign. He is prepared. His friend, the one they took last time, whispered to him about the room. He isn't going there. The piece of glass he found is fished from his pocket. He tells himself it won't hurt that much. It doesn't really. He has hurt worse more times than he can remember. He hopes his mom will remember him.
In the background the Barrett booms. Good. Start up the drums and let the music begin. I can't see the center of the two buildings anymore. We are running at an angle now to the big building. The kid building. The machine gun is pumping out its staccato beat. Oh yes. Let it begin! Other instruments begin playing. I fade them.
We're against the wall. Miller is swinging his sledge. Both of them now are slamming the iron heads into the cinder block. They have done this before. Their rhythm is perfect. "Faster!" I scream. At least that is what I wanted to scream. What came out was a roar of longing, hate, and unfulfilled desire to make the men behind that wall die.
They each are cutting a line, in the middle between them the cinder block is crumbling, trembling, waiting to be shoved aside. I step back ten paces and run full tilt into it. Almost. Back. Again. I'm through.
It's time to hunt.
The Unknown - Chapter 13d - by nova
The Captain who had the Barrett guy slid his way back down to brief his people and get them moving. I laid back and stared up the sky and tried to see what animal shapes I could find in the clouds floating by. I was pretty sure I had a cat cloud when the Captain quietly told me, "We're ready sir. Give the signal?"
"You got a name Captain?"
"Miller sir."
"Okay. I'm Gardener. Not sir. You decide to be one of my two sledge guys?"
"Yes...Gardener."
"What's the other guys name?"
"Rodriguez."
"Is today a good day to die Miller?
He looked at me quizzically.
"It's not a test Miller. Just answer."
It was a test. He knew that too.
"It's a better day to kill."
"No shit. Lets do this thing."
"You got a name Captain?"
"Miller sir."
"Okay. I'm Gardener. Not sir. You decide to be one of my two sledge guys?"
"Yes...Gardener."
"What's the other guys name?"
"Rodriguez."
"Is today a good day to die Miller?
He looked at me quizzically.
"It's not a test Miller. Just answer."
It was a test. He knew that too.
"It's a better day to kill."
"No shit. Lets do this thing."
The Unknown - Chapter 13c - by nova
Note: Reason being held as hostages is to force the turnover of the bridge from the Navajo Police. Rewrite addition. Drop Map at first stop? Add dialogue?
We went back to running. This time it was only for 30 minutes. Barely enough time for me to get back into the groove. We scrambled up one of the many washes coming off the mesa. In doing so we startled a rattlesnake basking in the sun. Nobody broke stride, we just gave him some room and kept moving. We hit the lip and instead of us popping our heads up like a bunch of curious gophers I stopped short and waved my squad down. Second squad I directed to take up position at the bottom of the wash.
I really hoped no one was on guard up there, or especially many others on guard. They would have the high ground and we would have to push them off it, then be exposed to the building across the road. Keiku had given me pop up feeds and it had looked clear. I quit buying into feeds telling me everything was looking good until I personally had seen the ground with my own eyes.
"Hit me again Keiku."
This feed was the same as the others. I could tell by the resolution and detail that it was coming from the hawk. Crows were never that good. Their attention span was .02 seconds and invariably something shiny distracted them. Hawks were a lot better but every once in awhile they would spot something edible on the ground below and go into a dive. The first time that happened to me I stopped dead in my tracks startling the squad I was leading and braced myself for impact all the while muttering "Shit! Shit! Shit!" It was a mix of exhilarating and terrifying because it was so real and so sudden. Mostly terrifying.
I studied the school and the area around it and tried to think of a plan. We were approaching the school from the back. It had covered walkways painted faded blue, undoubtedly one of the school colors, they joined the two square equally faded white cinder block boxes that were the structures. The second box was two stories high. It held the gym, lockers, and a handful of classrooms was my guess. The first box, to my right was a one story building where the rest of the classrooms and admin people would have their offices. The second story roof had two men with scoped wooden stock hunting rifles, probably .270's watching. The other buildings roof was empty.
The front had the entrance to the school blocked by a school bus as was the grass area that was free of obstacles so no one could do a vehicle rush. Since birds didn't have x-ray vision I couldn't see inside the buildings let alone have an idea of the floor plan. The floor plan I wasn't worried about. Once you orientated yourself inside planned structures like schools the location of everything fell into place. I was pretty sure that someone was in the bus next to the one blocking the entrance. The main entrance would have a strong enemy presence. More than likely set back down the main corridor and barricaded. I had seen the sparkle of broken glass in a number of places below windows. It was amazing the school had managed to keep glass in the windows for so long but then this area was lightly touched by PowerDown compared to the coast and the big desert cities like Phoenix.
I motioned for the 2nd squad Captain to join me. He acknowledged it, said something to one his people carrying one of the sledges strapped to his back. He slid it out of its sheath and went back to watching. The Captain scrambled up to me. As he drew almost even with the rattlesnake he pivoted, took a step towards Mr. Snake and whipped that sledge down like it was weightless. Mr. Snake took it hard. He tossed the now flat headed rattler down to his squad and finished the rest of the space between us. He joined me and the other Captain, squatting on his heels next to me.
Once I would have thought spending time with a group and barely speaking a word unusual. It was the norm now. I had met, commanded, and buried people who I spoke, at most, 20 words with in a week. The better, and longer a team worked together the less words were said. We hadn't spoken really but everyone of these guys had been chattering away to each other every minute we had been together. Body language, facial expressions, how they moved, how their gear was worn, the state of their weapons and their choices in them, all that added up in my head. I had interviewed them along the way and they had done the same to me. Now it was time to see how they preformed on the job.
It was map in the sand time again. Since I was going for detail I used the tip of my bayonet to etch my sketch. The building remained the same. Now it was time for the master plan.
I drew a sweeping half arc out our left. "Barrett. Roof, then windows with broken glass. One round below. One to the right side." I continued the arc. "Have him stop and go. Cover the buses and us."
I looked at them. They both nodded.
"Me and the two with the sledges go here." I indicated the side of the gym building. "We open the wall."
"When you see us go in you move to abandoned buildings, then, at your discretion, take the center. Clear it, then go for the parents. Split them into two groups. When we come out with the kids push parent group one in front. Make sure they know that I won't tolerate them breaking from the group for their kids. Explain why they have to be in front."
I stopped here and looked at them. I needed to know two things. Did they understand what I wanted and could they stomach it? They did. They didn't like it but that was tough shit. I wasn't to thrilled about it either.
We'll herd the kids behind them. Push the second group of parents in tight behind an around them. I want them surrounded by adults." I paused, then continued, "They don't want to cooperate than leave them behind." I didn't add that mine would be left behind and dead.
"The buses are the way out. Start them, one is probably good, they both look like wood burners, load them up and go."
"Where sir?"
"The Navajo Mountain Chapter House. I want to push them towards Rainbow Bridge. If they are going to make a stand we might as well do it in the holy land." I grinned. That had rhymed quite nicely. "Arm the parents when and if you can. Questions?"
The two Captains looked at each other. Then the senior one, at least he was older, said, "Sir. It's an honor to be here with you and we want..."
"Save it Captain." I told him. "Get the Barrett man moving and lets do this."
We went back to running. This time it was only for 30 minutes. Barely enough time for me to get back into the groove. We scrambled up one of the many washes coming off the mesa. In doing so we startled a rattlesnake basking in the sun. Nobody broke stride, we just gave him some room and kept moving. We hit the lip and instead of us popping our heads up like a bunch of curious gophers I stopped short and waved my squad down. Second squad I directed to take up position at the bottom of the wash.
I really hoped no one was on guard up there, or especially many others on guard. They would have the high ground and we would have to push them off it, then be exposed to the building across the road. Keiku had given me pop up feeds and it had looked clear. I quit buying into feeds telling me everything was looking good until I personally had seen the ground with my own eyes.
"Hit me again Keiku."
This feed was the same as the others. I could tell by the resolution and detail that it was coming from the hawk. Crows were never that good. Their attention span was .02 seconds and invariably something shiny distracted them. Hawks were a lot better but every once in awhile they would spot something edible on the ground below and go into a dive. The first time that happened to me I stopped dead in my tracks startling the squad I was leading and braced myself for impact all the while muttering "Shit! Shit! Shit!" It was a mix of exhilarating and terrifying because it was so real and so sudden. Mostly terrifying.
I studied the school and the area around it and tried to think of a plan. We were approaching the school from the back. It had covered walkways painted faded blue, undoubtedly one of the school colors, they joined the two square equally faded white cinder block boxes that were the structures. The second box was two stories high. It held the gym, lockers, and a handful of classrooms was my guess. The first box, to my right was a one story building where the rest of the classrooms and admin people would have their offices. The second story roof had two men with scoped wooden stock hunting rifles, probably .270's watching. The other buildings roof was empty.
The front had the entrance to the school blocked by a school bus as was the grass area that was free of obstacles so no one could do a vehicle rush. Since birds didn't have x-ray vision I couldn't see inside the buildings let alone have an idea of the floor plan. The floor plan I wasn't worried about. Once you orientated yourself inside planned structures like schools the location of everything fell into place. I was pretty sure that someone was in the bus next to the one blocking the entrance. The main entrance would have a strong enemy presence. More than likely set back down the main corridor and barricaded. I had seen the sparkle of broken glass in a number of places below windows. It was amazing the school had managed to keep glass in the windows for so long but then this area was lightly touched by PowerDown compared to the coast and the big desert cities like Phoenix.
I motioned for the 2nd squad Captain to join me. He acknowledged it, said something to one his people carrying one of the sledges strapped to his back. He slid it out of its sheath and went back to watching. The Captain scrambled up to me. As he drew almost even with the rattlesnake he pivoted, took a step towards Mr. Snake and whipped that sledge down like it was weightless. Mr. Snake took it hard. He tossed the now flat headed rattler down to his squad and finished the rest of the space between us. He joined me and the other Captain, squatting on his heels next to me.
Once I would have thought spending time with a group and barely speaking a word unusual. It was the norm now. I had met, commanded, and buried people who I spoke, at most, 20 words with in a week. The better, and longer a team worked together the less words were said. We hadn't spoken really but everyone of these guys had been chattering away to each other every minute we had been together. Body language, facial expressions, how they moved, how their gear was worn, the state of their weapons and their choices in them, all that added up in my head. I had interviewed them along the way and they had done the same to me. Now it was time to see how they preformed on the job.
It was map in the sand time again. Since I was going for detail I used the tip of my bayonet to etch my sketch. The building remained the same. Now it was time for the master plan.
I drew a sweeping half arc out our left. "Barrett. Roof, then windows with broken glass. One round below. One to the right side." I continued the arc. "Have him stop and go. Cover the buses and us."
I looked at them. They both nodded.
"Me and the two with the sledges go here." I indicated the side of the gym building. "We open the wall."
"When you see us go in you move to abandoned buildings, then, at your discretion, take the center. Clear it, then go for the parents. Split them into two groups. When we come out with the kids push parent group one in front. Make sure they know that I won't tolerate them breaking from the group for their kids. Explain why they have to be in front."
I stopped here and looked at them. I needed to know two things. Did they understand what I wanted and could they stomach it? They did. They didn't like it but that was tough shit. I wasn't to thrilled about it either.
We'll herd the kids behind them. Push the second group of parents in tight behind an around them. I want them surrounded by adults." I paused, then continued, "They don't want to cooperate than leave them behind." I didn't add that mine would be left behind and dead.
"The buses are the way out. Start them, one is probably good, they both look like wood burners, load them up and go."
"Where sir?"
"The Navajo Mountain Chapter House. I want to push them towards Rainbow Bridge. If they are going to make a stand we might as well do it in the holy land." I grinned. That had rhymed quite nicely. "Arm the parents when and if you can. Questions?"
The two Captains looked at each other. Then the senior one, at least he was older, said, "Sir. It's an honor to be here with you and we want..."
"Save it Captain." I told him. "Get the Barrett man moving and lets do this."
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Possible Good News
I may be getting a contract for "The Chosen" and two follow-up novels. That would be very cool in a lot of ways. If you have read it and could post a review on Amazon I would appreciate it very much. It might help influence the publisher to take a chance on me.
Thanks!
Thanks!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 13a - by nova
"Hello Major Gardener." It was the same Asian accented voice and her tone was that of an awestruck 16 year old girl. "This is Northern Arizona Control. My name is Keiku and I will be your dedicated image controller. I understand you have not used..."
"Keiku."
"Yes sir?"
"Shut the fuck up. Stay out of my head. Give me a quarter mile out, center on me, and run only on my voice command."
"Roger that. Conforming. Out."
She sounded a little miffed. Too bad.
It was quiet. The only people moving was us in two groups with 50 paces separating us. "Keiku. Give me where we just left."
That wasn't quiet. They had a fast react team and the way they were moving told me a good one at that. I stepped up the pace. I couldn't hear anyone sucking wind and I didn't expect to either.
Sweet Jesus it was a joy to run like this. I let myself enjoy it for a few beats. Damn, when did this slip away? I knew, I mean really knew, that I was only cruising and there was still more waiting if I wanted it. Getting older and the injuries had made so much of what I did something to be endured physically. This was nothing. It was fun again, I had forgotten how good it felt to move well and effortlessly, to feel like I was in my element instead of fighting it. I leaped a scrub bush instead of going around it and laughed. I bit the laugh off when I stumbled a little slipping on a sand covered rock and decided to focus on what the hell I was doing. I promised myself when this was done I would go running for a couple of hours just for the hell of it.
We ran hard. About 10 minutes into it I asked Keiko, "Anyone of these guys getting the feed too?"
"No sir."
"Why?"
There was a brief pause, not much, but enough for me to read a lot into, she told me, "Sir. They are not...qualified."
"Thanks. Out."
"Not qualified?" I thought. What the hell? Another mystery but one that I was used to. It was time to talk to my people, something we hadn't done much of so far. After another 40 minutes of running I called a halt.
"Keiku."
"Yes sir?"
"Shut the fuck up. Stay out of my head. Give me a quarter mile out, center on me, and run only on my voice command."
"Roger that. Conforming. Out."
She sounded a little miffed. Too bad.
It was quiet. The only people moving was us in two groups with 50 paces separating us. "Keiku. Give me where we just left."
That wasn't quiet. They had a fast react team and the way they were moving told me a good one at that. I stepped up the pace. I couldn't hear anyone sucking wind and I didn't expect to either.
Sweet Jesus it was a joy to run like this. I let myself enjoy it for a few beats. Damn, when did this slip away? I knew, I mean really knew, that I was only cruising and there was still more waiting if I wanted it. Getting older and the injuries had made so much of what I did something to be endured physically. This was nothing. It was fun again, I had forgotten how good it felt to move well and effortlessly, to feel like I was in my element instead of fighting it. I leaped a scrub bush instead of going around it and laughed. I bit the laugh off when I stumbled a little slipping on a sand covered rock and decided to focus on what the hell I was doing. I promised myself when this was done I would go running for a couple of hours just for the hell of it.
We ran hard. About 10 minutes into it I asked Keiko, "Anyone of these guys getting the feed too?"
"No sir."
"Why?"
There was a brief pause, not much, but enough for me to read a lot into, she told me, "Sir. They are not...qualified."
"Thanks. Out."
"Not qualified?" I thought. What the hell? Another mystery but one that I was used to. It was time to talk to my people, something we hadn't done much of so far. After another 40 minutes of running I called a halt.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 13 - by nova
My first inclination had been to charge up the middle by house hopping until we got to the school. I felt good, real good. My body was running young but my mind still had all the mileage of a hundred gunfights and small town raids and it was telling me don't get everyone around you killed right away. Plus, I had the eye in the sky and could work around the tough spots as much as possible.
Instead I was going to head out of town. Page was built on a low mesa and I wanted follow the edge around and come up to the school from behind. The town faded out on that side. We would have to cross a Catholic church grounds, a two lane road, and we enter from the rear where a sandy field was and some standalone classrooms that had been abandoned years ago.
We moved at a fast trot parallel to the cobblers house for a minute before jumping down into a shallow wash that I hoped would get deeper. It was beginning to burn nicely and smoke even nicer. Now it was going to about moving fast and not stupid. Especially after we freed the kids and others.
"Give me some feed Freya!" I shouted in my head. I doubted if she would be the one, I had already found that out, but it was I knew how to say. My guess is there were special coded words, somebody had probably worked "tactical" in there somewhere I was sure. I added. "And don't fucking hose me!"
Instead I was going to head out of town. Page was built on a low mesa and I wanted follow the edge around and come up to the school from behind. The town faded out on that side. We would have to cross a Catholic church grounds, a two lane road, and we enter from the rear where a sandy field was and some standalone classrooms that had been abandoned years ago.
We moved at a fast trot parallel to the cobblers house for a minute before jumping down into a shallow wash that I hoped would get deeper. It was beginning to burn nicely and smoke even nicer. Now it was going to about moving fast and not stupid. Especially after we freed the kids and others.
"Give me some feed Freya!" I shouted in my head. I doubted if she would be the one, I had already found that out, but it was I knew how to say. My guess is there were special coded words, somebody had probably worked "tactical" in there somewhere I was sure. I added. "And don't fucking hose me!"
Friday, September 16, 2011
Gone until Monday
We are heading for Pennsylvania for the weekend and I am unplugging from the Internet. I'll be back and writing by Tuesday.
Thanks as always for reading, and please leave a review, if you have time, for anything you read of mine.
Stay safe.
Thanks as always for reading, and please leave a review, if you have time, for anything you read of mine.
Stay safe.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Dakota Meyer. USMC Medal of Honor
I write stories. Fiction. There are people out there who live it. I never met him and probably never will but I wish him the best.
Source:
LOUISVILLE, Ky. (AP) — Dakota Meyer saved 36 lives from an ambush in Afghanistan and the former Marine will collect the nation's highest military honor at the White House on Thursday. While he is receiving the Medal of Honor, Meyer's slain comrades will be memorialized in hometown ceremonies at his request.
His hero's moment was his darkest day. Meyer lost some of his best friends the morning of Sept. 8, 2009, in far-off Kunar Province.
"It's hard, it's ... you know ... getting recognized for the worst day of your life, so it's... it's a really tough thing," Meyer said, struggling for words.
Meyer charged through heavy insurgent gunfire on five death-defying trips in an armored Humvee to save 13 Marines and Army soldiers and another 23 Afghan troops pinned down by withering enemy fire. Meyer personally killed at least eight insurgents despite taking a shrapnel wound to one arm as he manned the gun turret of the Humvee and provided covering fire for the soldiers, according to the military.
President Barack Obama will bestow the medal at a White House ceremony. The two have also met privately, having a beer on a patio outside the Oval Office on Wednesday.
"Over the weekend, the President's staff called Meyer in preparation for Thursday's Medal of Honor ceremony at the White House. Meyer asked the staffer if he could have a beer with the President. POTUS invited Dakota to come by the White House this afternoon," spokesman Jay Carney tweeted.
In Afghanistan, Meyer was part of a security team supporting a patrol moving into a village in the Ganjgal Valley on the day of the ambush.
Meyer and the other Americans had gone to the area to train Afghan military members when, suddenly, the village lights went out and gunfire erupted. About 50 Taliban insurgents on mountainsides and in the village had ambushed the patrol.
As the forward team took fire and called for air support that wasn't coming, Meyer, a corporal at the time, begged his command to let him head into the incoming fire to help.
Four times he was denied his request before Meyer and another Marine, Staff Sgt. Juan Rodriguez-Chavez, jumped into the Humvee and headed into the fray. For his valor, Rodriguez-Chavez, a 34-year-old who hailed originally from Acuna, Mexico, would be awarded the Navy Cross.
"They told him he couldn't go in," said Dwight Meyer, Dakota Meyer's 81-year-old grandfather, a former Marine who served in the 1950s. "He told them, 'The hell I'm not,' and he went in. It's a one-in-a-million thing" that he survived.
With Meyer manning the Humvee's gun turret, the two drew heavy fire. But they began evacuating wounded Marines and American and Afghan soldiers to a safe point. Meyer made five trips into the kill zone, each time searching for the forward patrol with his Marine friends — including 1st Lt. Michael Johnson — whom Meyer had heard yelling on the radio for air support.
With Meyer and Rodriguez-Chavez ready to test fate a fifth time in the kill zone, a UH-60 helicopter arrived at last to provide overhead support. Troops aboard the chopper told Meyer they had spotted what appeared to be four bodies. Meyer knew those were his friends and he had to bring them out.
"It might sound crazy, but it was just, you don't really think about it, you don't comprehend it, you don't really comprehend what you did until looking back on it," Meyer said.
Wounded and tired, Meyer left the relative safety of the Humvee and ran out on foot.
"He just really took a chance," Dwight Meyer said.
Ducking around buildings to avoid heavy gunfire, he reached the bodies of Johnson, a 25-year-old from Virginia Beach; Staff Sgt. Aaron Kenefick, 30, of Roswell, Ga.; Corpsman James Layton, 22, of Riverbank, Calif.; and Edwin Wayne Johnson Jr., a 31-year-old gunnery sergeant from Columbus, Ga.
Meyer and two other soldiers dodged bullets and rocket-propelled grenades to pull the bodies out of a ditch where the men had died while trying to take cover.
The deaths of Meyer's comrades prompted an investigation into events that day, and two Army officers were later reprimanded for being "inadequate and ineffective" and for "contributing directly to the loss of life." Along with Meyer's friends, a fifth American — Army Sgt. Kenneth W. Westbrook, 41, of Shiprock, N.M. — was fatally wounded in the ambush.
Meyer said he'll be humbled by the memory of his fallen comrades as he receives the award Thursday. One of the memorials will be at a Columbus cemetery for gunnery sergeant Johnson, a father of three who served nearly 13 years in the U.S. Marine Corps.
Will Duke, one of the organizers, said the memorials spoke volumes about Meyer.
"I can tell by his actions, not only the actions he took in earning the Medal of Honor in Afghanistan but also the actions he is taking now. Essentially by requesting these memorial services for his fallen comrades, he's saying this is about them," Duke said.
Source:
LOUISVILLE, Ky. (AP) — Dakota Meyer saved 36 lives from an ambush in Afghanistan and the former Marine will collect the nation's highest military honor at the White House on Thursday. While he is receiving the Medal of Honor, Meyer's slain comrades will be memorialized in hometown ceremonies at his request.
His hero's moment was his darkest day. Meyer lost some of his best friends the morning of Sept. 8, 2009, in far-off Kunar Province.
"It's hard, it's ... you know ... getting recognized for the worst day of your life, so it's... it's a really tough thing," Meyer said, struggling for words.
Meyer charged through heavy insurgent gunfire on five death-defying trips in an armored Humvee to save 13 Marines and Army soldiers and another 23 Afghan troops pinned down by withering enemy fire. Meyer personally killed at least eight insurgents despite taking a shrapnel wound to one arm as he manned the gun turret of the Humvee and provided covering fire for the soldiers, according to the military.
President Barack Obama will bestow the medal at a White House ceremony. The two have also met privately, having a beer on a patio outside the Oval Office on Wednesday.
"Over the weekend, the President's staff called Meyer in preparation for Thursday's Medal of Honor ceremony at the White House. Meyer asked the staffer if he could have a beer with the President. POTUS invited Dakota to come by the White House this afternoon," spokesman Jay Carney tweeted.
In Afghanistan, Meyer was part of a security team supporting a patrol moving into a village in the Ganjgal Valley on the day of the ambush.
Meyer and the other Americans had gone to the area to train Afghan military members when, suddenly, the village lights went out and gunfire erupted. About 50 Taliban insurgents on mountainsides and in the village had ambushed the patrol.
As the forward team took fire and called for air support that wasn't coming, Meyer, a corporal at the time, begged his command to let him head into the incoming fire to help.
Four times he was denied his request before Meyer and another Marine, Staff Sgt. Juan Rodriguez-Chavez, jumped into the Humvee and headed into the fray. For his valor, Rodriguez-Chavez, a 34-year-old who hailed originally from Acuna, Mexico, would be awarded the Navy Cross.
"They told him he couldn't go in," said Dwight Meyer, Dakota Meyer's 81-year-old grandfather, a former Marine who served in the 1950s. "He told them, 'The hell I'm not,' and he went in. It's a one-in-a-million thing" that he survived.
With Meyer manning the Humvee's gun turret, the two drew heavy fire. But they began evacuating wounded Marines and American and Afghan soldiers to a safe point. Meyer made five trips into the kill zone, each time searching for the forward patrol with his Marine friends — including 1st Lt. Michael Johnson — whom Meyer had heard yelling on the radio for air support.
With Meyer and Rodriguez-Chavez ready to test fate a fifth time in the kill zone, a UH-60 helicopter arrived at last to provide overhead support. Troops aboard the chopper told Meyer they had spotted what appeared to be four bodies. Meyer knew those were his friends and he had to bring them out.
"It might sound crazy, but it was just, you don't really think about it, you don't comprehend it, you don't really comprehend what you did until looking back on it," Meyer said.
Wounded and tired, Meyer left the relative safety of the Humvee and ran out on foot.
"He just really took a chance," Dwight Meyer said.
Ducking around buildings to avoid heavy gunfire, he reached the bodies of Johnson, a 25-year-old from Virginia Beach; Staff Sgt. Aaron Kenefick, 30, of Roswell, Ga.; Corpsman James Layton, 22, of Riverbank, Calif.; and Edwin Wayne Johnson Jr., a 31-year-old gunnery sergeant from Columbus, Ga.
Meyer and two other soldiers dodged bullets and rocket-propelled grenades to pull the bodies out of a ditch where the men had died while trying to take cover.
The deaths of Meyer's comrades prompted an investigation into events that day, and two Army officers were later reprimanded for being "inadequate and ineffective" and for "contributing directly to the loss of life." Along with Meyer's friends, a fifth American — Army Sgt. Kenneth W. Westbrook, 41, of Shiprock, N.M. — was fatally wounded in the ambush.
Meyer said he'll be humbled by the memory of his fallen comrades as he receives the award Thursday. One of the memorials will be at a Columbus cemetery for gunnery sergeant Johnson, a father of three who served nearly 13 years in the U.S. Marine Corps.
Will Duke, one of the organizers, said the memorials spoke volumes about Meyer.
"I can tell by his actions, not only the actions he took in earning the Medal of Honor in Afghanistan but also the actions he is taking now. Essentially by requesting these memorial services for his fallen comrades, he's saying this is about them," Duke said.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 12c - by nova
Chapter 12c
The backyard was not that big but it had most of a privacy fence still intact. Freya motioned for me to go first though the back door and I stepped out into the yard. She didn't follow me, instead she stood in the doorway, and watched four of them quit drawing a map in the sand and stand up. They did it sharply too.
I watched them watch her. No doubt about it, they responded that quickly because they feared her, not cause she was wearing a long white cotton dress, and from the way the sun illuminated her, nothing else. The next thing that struck me was how they were outfitted. My first thought was. "Damn. They look more like the feds then the feds do."
They were wearing khaki colored uniforms. Uniform meaning exactly that. They were all cut the same which meant there was a factory making these somewhere. They all had helmets, fed helmets in the same color, their webbing and vests were leather, and they were extremely well armed.
Once again all the equipment looked standardized. AK-74's, grenades that looked like German WW II ones but with a bigger can on the end, an M240 machine gun, the belts for it looked different though, and a Barrett! These guys were packing some weight. I doubted they had but if they walked here they probably hated my guts. Two of them had sledge hammers on their backs in sheaths like I carried Sword. These guys must have been doing a lot of city fighting before coming here.
I studied the men while she talked. It was a quick once over because she didn't say much. It was your basic, "Do right, die right, make me and your families proud. I am with you." Then she left. I grinned when she did.
They were not what I expected and I was glad. Everyone of the four in front of me, and what I could see of the two pulling security, were over 30 years old. Even more surprising was that two of them were officers and the rest were senior NCO's.
I looked closer, they were wearing black stripes under their eye's, I had insisted on that way back when. No one was going to be wearing sunglasses around me, I was surprised it had stuck. They had also kept the Crow badge that was given for killing a number of the enemy under difficult conditions. They all were heavily tattooed with intricate designs that probably meant something if you could read them.
They were staring back at me, most definitely taking my measure too. Like the lady had said, "The clock was ticking" and I was beginning to feel uneasy. Fuck the speeches and idle chit chat about what was happening back in the NordLand.
"I want two fire teams of three. We move in bursts. First squad on me. Second squad burn this house down." I didn't bother to see if they understood or would burn the house down. Freya was gone, of that I was sure of. The rest of that motley bunch would vacate when they smelled smoke.
People all over what was once America hated my guts and most of them did the hating from new places because I had burnt their town down. My rule had been if you helped the feds you paid. Then you paid some more.
I hit the gap in the fence running while simultaneously mentally saying, "Freya. Show me." Instead of Freya responding I got the voice of a young woman with an Asian accent who told me, "This is Northern Arizona Control One, stand by for immediate area feed. "Jesus, the fucking bitch is outsourcing?" went through my head but was quickly flushed by the imagery that followed. I stumbled and my vision blurred, the data flow was like a fire hose, "God damn it!" I yelled. "Simplify that shit now!" I heard a "Standby" and got my vision and balance back. Just in fucking time too.
The backyard was not that big but it had most of a privacy fence still intact. Freya motioned for me to go first though the back door and I stepped out into the yard. She didn't follow me, instead she stood in the doorway, and watched four of them quit drawing a map in the sand and stand up. They did it sharply too.
I watched them watch her. No doubt about it, they responded that quickly because they feared her, not cause she was wearing a long white cotton dress, and from the way the sun illuminated her, nothing else. The next thing that struck me was how they were outfitted. My first thought was. "Damn. They look more like the feds then the feds do."
They were wearing khaki colored uniforms. Uniform meaning exactly that. They were all cut the same which meant there was a factory making these somewhere. They all had helmets, fed helmets in the same color, their webbing and vests were leather, and they were extremely well armed.
Once again all the equipment looked standardized. AK-74's, grenades that looked like German WW II ones but with a bigger can on the end, an M240 machine gun, the belts for it looked different though, and a Barrett! These guys were packing some weight. I doubted they had but if they walked here they probably hated my guts. Two of them had sledge hammers on their backs in sheaths like I carried Sword. These guys must have been doing a lot of city fighting before coming here.
I studied the men while she talked. It was a quick once over because she didn't say much. It was your basic, "Do right, die right, make me and your families proud. I am with you." Then she left. I grinned when she did.
They were not what I expected and I was glad. Everyone of the four in front of me, and what I could see of the two pulling security, were over 30 years old. Even more surprising was that two of them were officers and the rest were senior NCO's.
I looked closer, they were wearing black stripes under their eye's, I had insisted on that way back when. No one was going to be wearing sunglasses around me, I was surprised it had stuck. They had also kept the Crow badge that was given for killing a number of the enemy under difficult conditions. They all were heavily tattooed with intricate designs that probably meant something if you could read them.
They were staring back at me, most definitely taking my measure too. Like the lady had said, "The clock was ticking" and I was beginning to feel uneasy. Fuck the speeches and idle chit chat about what was happening back in the NordLand.
"I want two fire teams of three. We move in bursts. First squad on me. Second squad burn this house down." I didn't bother to see if they understood or would burn the house down. Freya was gone, of that I was sure of. The rest of that motley bunch would vacate when they smelled smoke.
People all over what was once America hated my guts and most of them did the hating from new places because I had burnt their town down. My rule had been if you helped the feds you paid. Then you paid some more.
I hit the gap in the fence running while simultaneously mentally saying, "Freya. Show me." Instead of Freya responding I got the voice of a young woman with an Asian accent who told me, "This is Northern Arizona Control One, stand by for immediate area feed. "Jesus, the fucking bitch is outsourcing?" went through my head but was quickly flushed by the imagery that followed. I stumbled and my vision blurred, the data flow was like a fire hose, "God damn it!" I yelled. "Simplify that shit now!" I heard a "Standby" and got my vision and balance back. Just in fucking time too.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 12b - by nova
"G, you weren't listening to me were you."
"Yeah, I got the gist of it. Many bad people who want to kill me and a hostage situation."
"G..." She sighed, "Let me finish. You may be one of the best single combat warriors I have ever known."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I go back a long way Gardener..."
I let it slide. I knew I wasn't the best anyway. Max was. I wanted to ask her if she knew Hector and Ajax but I didn't want to end up discussing ancient history. Instead I said, "Okay."
"I brought you help too."
I started looking around. It would be awkward and great to see Max again. Ninja, well, that would be outstanding.
"They're out back G." She was amused.
I left the 30-30 but I grabbed the Lance. Freya saw that and said, "You don't need it anymore G." I stopped dead. She was right. I still felt great and so did my leg. A wide smile split my face, I told her, "You're right. This is awesome! When the hell did that happen?"
In a surprisingly gentle voice she told, "Enjoy it. The clock is ticking. Follow me."
When she turned her back I did a little skip hop dance move just for the pure joy of being able to. Damn, I hadn't realized how different it felt to have everything working, not hurting, and alive. I followed her, damn she had a great ass, and started looking forward to seeing Kat again. I bet we could find a closet somewhere. Oh yeah!
I focused again, Freya was talking again, something she loved to do, "Max and Ninja couldn't come. They're busy in Michigan and Ohio right now. We expect DC to fall within six months. Ninja asked for volunteers and your old unit, to a man, volunteered. He picked these from his personal security detachment."
I knew they wouldn't come but it still stung a bit. I was also curious about who and how many they had sent.
"Yeah, I got the gist of it. Many bad people who want to kill me and a hostage situation."
"G..." She sighed, "Let me finish. You may be one of the best single combat warriors I have ever known."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I go back a long way Gardener..."
I let it slide. I knew I wasn't the best anyway. Max was. I wanted to ask her if she knew Hector and Ajax but I didn't want to end up discussing ancient history. Instead I said, "Okay."
"I brought you help too."
I started looking around. It would be awkward and great to see Max again. Ninja, well, that would be outstanding.
"They're out back G." She was amused.
I left the 30-30 but I grabbed the Lance. Freya saw that and said, "You don't need it anymore G." I stopped dead. She was right. I still felt great and so did my leg. A wide smile split my face, I told her, "You're right. This is awesome! When the hell did that happen?"
In a surprisingly gentle voice she told, "Enjoy it. The clock is ticking. Follow me."
When she turned her back I did a little skip hop dance move just for the pure joy of being able to. Damn, I hadn't realized how different it felt to have everything working, not hurting, and alive. I followed her, damn she had a great ass, and started looking forward to seeing Kat again. I bet we could find a closet somewhere. Oh yeah!
I focused again, Freya was talking again, something she loved to do, "Max and Ninja couldn't come. They're busy in Michigan and Ohio right now. We expect DC to fall within six months. Ninja asked for volunteers and your old unit, to a man, volunteered. He picked these from his personal security detachment."
I knew they wouldn't come but it still stung a bit. I was also curious about who and how many they had sent.
The Unknown - Chapter 12a - by nova
I evicted the 30-30 from its sheath and returned Sword to its home. I shrugged my shoulders and pulled on one of the harnesses straps to balance it a little better. That done I reached back, grabbed the hilt, screamed "Freya," and swept it forward and down into the counter. It was magic of the special kind. Sword cleaved the wood like it was bone and didn't stop until the end of the arc. God Damn if that didn't feel good. I pulled sword loose, that didn't go as smoothly which was just as well because it gave me time to amp what I was feeling down a bit.
I got Sword free and stepped back, much to my surprise I was panting a bit, not from exertion, rather the need to split some heads open and dump intestines on the ground. I wanted to hear screams of pain and smell their blood, fear, and urine as I sent them to hell.
Freya had stepped back about four paces and was watching me warily.
"I'm good. Give me the background and I'm gone."
She didn't seem convinced but she told me what I had to do. It was pretty simple, at least the way she told it. I listened, did my own calculations, and realized no way in hell, even in my prime, was I going to make it through this alive, let alone unscathed.
What I had was a hostage situation, inside an enemy held town, I was outnumbered significantly, and the feds had a team on the way to kill me if the Apaches didn't. The hostages were Navajo kids and Kat who were being held at the local school. Also being held were their families in a different part of the same building. Along the way were scattered teams who were supposed to kill me before I got to the kids. If that didn't work they would use the kids to flush me out and kill me for the reward and payback.
"Any questions?"
"No. Give me a feed and my legs back and I'm gone.
I got Sword free and stepped back, much to my surprise I was panting a bit, not from exertion, rather the need to split some heads open and dump intestines on the ground. I wanted to hear screams of pain and smell their blood, fear, and urine as I sent them to hell.
Freya had stepped back about four paces and was watching me warily.
"I'm good. Give me the background and I'm gone."
She didn't seem convinced but she told me what I had to do. It was pretty simple, at least the way she told it. I listened, did my own calculations, and realized no way in hell, even in my prime, was I going to make it through this alive, let alone unscathed.
What I had was a hostage situation, inside an enemy held town, I was outnumbered significantly, and the feds had a team on the way to kill me if the Apaches didn't. The hostages were Navajo kids and Kat who were being held at the local school. Also being held were their families in a different part of the same building. Along the way were scattered teams who were supposed to kill me before I got to the kids. If that didn't work they would use the kids to flush me out and kill me for the reward and payback.
"Any questions?"
"No. Give me a feed and my legs back and I'm gone.
Monday, September 12, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 12 - by nova
She smiled at me, the woman was incredibly lovely when she did, and reached back under the counter. My hand had never moved off my gun so we didn't have are little moment when she gently laid a burlap wrapped object on the counter where my boots had been. She looked at me calmly. I knew what it was and my breath caught in my throat along with my heart.
"Sword."
I didn't say it as a question either.
"Yes."
"I thought it was lost during the battle when...I couldn't finish it. I couldn't.
"No Gardener. Not lost. One of mine found it and brought it to me. You were thought to be dead so I sent it back to my hall to wait for you."
"It never occurred to you to return it after I was found alive?"
She shrugged, "I got busy. Sorry."
I glared at her. Then I mentally shrugged it off. She was very good at acting like a flake when it suited her but she was far from it.
I unwrapped it, held it in my hand, and stared at her. I liked the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She had taken Sword back because it could hurt her where nothing else would. It was of her time and named although I could never pronounce it correctly and I had gotten tired of her correcting me. She didn't speak to me for three days when I told I was going to call it Sword instead.
The blade was still blood smeared. It had never been cleaned since the last time I had used it. Memories of the day came flooding back in, none of them pleasant, the sound of automatic weapons burning ammo like they had an unlimited supply,which they did then, screams, dust in the air, noise of varying intensity from the explosions as they ripped us apart. We were falling back, trying to lose them, even the odds up by withdrawing deeper into the cover of the trees but it wasn't working. I stopped the tape right there and refocused.
"Why Freya? Why?"
I genuinely wanted to know.
She sighed, and for a second I saw the kid I knew once, "Because I was wrong about my power and theirs. They weren't warriors as I knew them. They were machines covered in metal and skin. They saw like I did but so much better and farther. They had power then G, unimaginable power, the power of the gods in their prime and they used it like angry children. I was so wrong then but I learned, oh yes I did." She grinned, if you want to call it that, I responded to that grin and felt the killing madness touch me.
I knew what she meant for I too had learned and a part of me wished I hadn't. Their way was cold, methodical and efficient. It was never my way but I had used it to kill them. In doing so it had quit being fun.
"Sword."
I didn't say it as a question either.
"Yes."
"I thought it was lost during the battle when...I couldn't finish it. I couldn't.
"No Gardener. Not lost. One of mine found it and brought it to me. You were thought to be dead so I sent it back to my hall to wait for you."
"It never occurred to you to return it after I was found alive?"
She shrugged, "I got busy. Sorry."
I glared at her. Then I mentally shrugged it off. She was very good at acting like a flake when it suited her but she was far from it.
I unwrapped it, held it in my hand, and stared at her. I liked the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She had taken Sword back because it could hurt her where nothing else would. It was of her time and named although I could never pronounce it correctly and I had gotten tired of her correcting me. She didn't speak to me for three days when I told I was going to call it Sword instead.
The blade was still blood smeared. It had never been cleaned since the last time I had used it. Memories of the day came flooding back in, none of them pleasant, the sound of automatic weapons burning ammo like they had an unlimited supply,which they did then, screams, dust in the air, noise of varying intensity from the explosions as they ripped us apart. We were falling back, trying to lose them, even the odds up by withdrawing deeper into the cover of the trees but it wasn't working. I stopped the tape right there and refocused.
"Why Freya? Why?"
I genuinely wanted to know.
She sighed, and for a second I saw the kid I knew once, "Because I was wrong about my power and theirs. They weren't warriors as I knew them. They were machines covered in metal and skin. They saw like I did but so much better and farther. They had power then G, unimaginable power, the power of the gods in their prime and they used it like angry children. I was so wrong then but I learned, oh yes I did." She grinned, if you want to call it that, I responded to that grin and felt the killing madness touch me.
I knew what she meant for I too had learned and a part of me wished I hadn't. Their way was cold, methodical and efficient. It was never my way but I had used it to kill them. In doing so it had quit being fun.
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 11c - by nova
She was waiting for me on the other side of the counter just as old and tired looking as the last time. I stood there and stared at her, her eyes were brown, her breasts pendulous, and her smile stained. No, this wasn't Freya. This was just a woman stuck in a little town in the middle of nowhere trying to make it through another day. A description that fit almost every woman I had met in the past few decades.
"The old man giving you a hard time?"
"No. You got my boots?"
"You got your ticket?"
"You never gave me a ticket."
She squinted at me for a couple of beats and her face changed. A raspy chuckle, a wheeze, and she said "Oh yeah. The magic boots man. My sister took care of that. Hold on."
She shuffled off into the back and I took a look out the window. The old man was gone and the morning was giving way to afternoon. Nobody else was out in the street and the town was quiet. Too quiet. I didn't like it.
I turned around and she was there. Freya.
"Hey Kid."
"Hey Gardener."
"Who was the old lady?"
"My sister."
"Damn, she's ugly."
Freya laughed and sis's voice came from somewhere in the back, "I heard that."
"Yes. She didn't want believers so she is stuck for now in her old shell."
"That has to suck."
Freya didn't laugh. Not even a smile. "It does."
We stared at each other. I blinked first. She was the only person, and the person part was wrong which didn't make it feel any better, who could do that to me. Her eyes, they led places I wasn't willing to go. For the first time I wondered if Max looked away too. I doubted it.
"I would love to kill you." I told her.
"I know."
I thought I detected a trace of sadness in her voice. I ignored it.
"You deserve to die."
She shrugged. "By your standards I do. I wish I could tell you what I know but instead I am going to help you learn it yourself."
I just stared at her. I really wanted to shoot her right between those pretty blue eyes but I had tried that before. It didn't work then and I doubted if it would now. Instead I asked her, "How so, and whats the price?"
"Blood and my name."
"The old man giving you a hard time?"
"No. You got my boots?"
"You got your ticket?"
"You never gave me a ticket."
She squinted at me for a couple of beats and her face changed. A raspy chuckle, a wheeze, and she said "Oh yeah. The magic boots man. My sister took care of that. Hold on."
She shuffled off into the back and I took a look out the window. The old man was gone and the morning was giving way to afternoon. Nobody else was out in the street and the town was quiet. Too quiet. I didn't like it.
I turned around and she was there. Freya.
"Hey Kid."
"Hey Gardener."
"Who was the old lady?"
"My sister."
"Damn, she's ugly."
Freya laughed and sis's voice came from somewhere in the back, "I heard that."
"Yes. She didn't want believers so she is stuck for now in her old shell."
"That has to suck."
Freya didn't laugh. Not even a smile. "It does."
We stared at each other. I blinked first. She was the only person, and the person part was wrong which didn't make it feel any better, who could do that to me. Her eyes, they led places I wasn't willing to go. For the first time I wondered if Max looked away too. I doubted it.
"I would love to kill you." I told her.
"I know."
I thought I detected a trace of sadness in her voice. I ignored it.
"You deserve to die."
She shrugged. "By your standards I do. I wish I could tell you what I know but instead I am going to help you learn it yourself."
I just stared at her. I really wanted to shoot her right between those pretty blue eyes but I had tried that before. It didn't work then and I doubted if it would now. Instead I asked her, "How so, and whats the price?"
"Blood and my name."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)