Showing posts with label Bomb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bomb. Show all posts

Friday, January 21, 2011

Story-A-Day #71: Mission Complete


MISSION COMPLETE

They walked along the cobbled path with purpose. They were men on a mission, six friends who had just pulled off the biggest job of their lives.

It was a muggy day, and at least half of them were still feeling the effects of too much scotch and over-sized cohibas from the night before, but they were focused. It had been a solid celebration, and duly earned.

Still buzzing from their success, they had started the day off at the beach with a bit of fun in the sun. They floated in the warm salty ocean for a bit, tossed a football back and forth, then finally retreated to the hot white beach where they lounged on the plastic recliners. They had earned the break.

When the sun reached its zenith, they retreated to the pool area for a few cervezas under the shade of the large grass umbrellas. After a quick lunch of cold cuts and fresh fruit in the main restaurant, they jumped in the pool and made their way over to the swim up bar. They spent the next couple hours chatting with a group of girls from Sweden. There were six of them as well, all blondes and all beautiful, tall and lean. Their pale Nordic flesh glowed hot pink in the afternoon sun.

Things could not have worked out any better for the guys. In fact, they seemed to be getting better with every passing moment. Around dinnertime, they made plans to meet up with the girls in the disco later that might and excused themselves. Back in their rooms, they showered, applied some aloe, and slipped into their evening attire.

As darkness settled over the resort, they made their way through the courtyard to the front gate of the resort. A large van sat idling out near the busy street and they all climbed in. The driver nodded and pulled out into the speeding traffic. Half an hour later, in an unfamiliar part of town, the van pulled over and the driver indicated an open door nearby. A soft yellow light spilled out into the street.

The six men climbed out of the van and walked towards the opening. This would either go very smoothly, or very wrong. They hoped it would be the former. They were greeted by a stocky man in a white cotton suit as the stepped into the doorway. A large automatic weapon was slung casually over his shoulder.

He motioned to a nearby table where a smaller, weasel of a man was sitting. One of the men stepped forward and placed a briefcase on the table and slid it across to the man. He picked up the case and examined the contents. A clock on the wall ticked loudly through the room, counting off the interminable seconds. Finally, an unnatural looking smile spread across the man’s face.

“You done good boys,” he mumbled. “Is too bad because I was kind of looking forward to killing you. You should probably be leaving our country soon. If I happened to find out you were still around, say in two days, I might not be so pleased.”

They nodded solemnly and quickly exited to the waiting van. The driver nodded at them and pulled away from the curb. A moment later, a loud explosion rocked the night. They turned and peered out the rear window of the van. A large fireball was slowly fading into the night sky above the charred husk of the building they had just left.

It would be another great night. There were six beautiful women waiting for them at the resort and they had officially completed their mission.

“Well done,” the driver finally offered. “The boss will be pleased.”

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Story-A-Day #58: Bomb



BOMB

A low-flying jet screamed by overhead, ripping a wake through the clouds and tearing a new hole in the sound barrier.

I've been told that this city was in the top ten on the Soviet hit list during the Cold War. I guess it's plausible.

We've got the military base, a pretty big deal back I the day, even though most of it has been shut down since those days of paranoia. There's also "The Hole", which used to be the premium security post buried under the pre-Cambrian rock of the Canadian Shield. If you take them for their word, it is bow just a hole.

It is quite the thing to realize that this mostly sleepy little community used to be so significant - and such a threat. We were the only thing standing between the mighty U.S.S.R. and the tenacious American superpower.

That's a wild thing to think about. There are still shrines scattered around the city to that storied past as well. Military jets like the Voodoo and Bomark missiles up on big cement pedestals. All that despite the fact that our city might as well be a DMZ compared to the halcyon '80s.

If you were to ask around, most people here would probably tell you that the base had been closed for years. Not technically true, although job well done for being so under-the-radar.

We're not the only thing that has changed though. The U.S. Is now waging war on the army they built to combat the reds and the U.S.S.R. dissolved.

This entire military history flooded confoundedly through me as I watched the jet. In the distance a gleaming object separated and dropped from the jet. A moment later, the ground beneath me leapt upward and my knees buckled. In the distance, a bright fireball mushroomed up from the horizon and all I could think was how weird it looked.

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