 |
| |
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
It was your usual dark, stormy Pacific night. Lightning was flashing in the distance, and it was raining absolutely furiously. There was not a human sould for hundreds of miles around.
Except for one.
"Dugout, this is Linebacker 1, Over."
A blue striped American F-15 Interceptor (Naval variant) soared 30,000 feet over the serface of the deep blue sea. Aboard, there was but one brave, hardy soul.
"Linebacker 1, this is Dugout. How are things up there, Over."
"We have heavy, heavy, weather, Dugout. Request landing vector..." The pilot of the F-15 was cut off in mid transmission.
Aboard the carrier U.S.S. Clinton (ha, ha, ha!) the fighter operator sat puzzled. How could an F-15 have just simply dissapeared over the Pacific Ocean? He let his forehead fall down and bang on the fighter positioning board. What just happened here? he thought to himself, puzzled. He decided to report it to his superior, Major Ripper. Perhaps he would know...
Half a world away, over Poland, the Polish were testing out their new NATO supplied Stealth Bombers. With the discovery of vast amounts of valuable mineral crystal deposits off of their northern coasts, the Poles were becoming favored in the world community.
As such, they were beginning to test out B-2s.
A black painted B-2 flew to the northeast at it's maximum speed. It began to slow down, where it met an old IL-76 re-equiped for air-refueling. Suddenly, 300 million dollars worth of hardware simply exploded in midair...
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
Anyway, CM...let us say it will involve something that will ROCK THE WORLD!!!
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
At around the same time as the F-15 and the B-2 had exploded mysterioulsy, half a world away, inside the Chinese Politburo buidling, a meeting to change the Earth forever was underway.
"But I do not favor such drastic action. If the Americans discover our plan, the results will be disastrous!" a loud, Oriental sounding voice boomed. "They have the world's most powerful military, the biggest nuclear arsenals..."
"QUIET!" another voice yelled. "We shall make sure no one, and I mean NO ONE, will find out about this. Just look at the current situation. It is either this, or our rebel province of Taiwan buries us! You saw what the new President said about supportung Taiwan! We cannot possibly do nothing in the face of that aggresive fool! Zhang, the consequences for doing nothing are worse than the ones we currently face!"
"Really!?" Zhang yelled. "Really? What is worth more? The lives of our people, or the thickness of your wallets!?"
Zhang was but a junior, non-voting member of the Politburo. His climb up the political ladder had been long and treacherous. He was one of the most liberal of all the Politburo's members, and he wished for sweeping reforms to make China the great power it deserved to be.
"If the Americans get wind of our plan, they shall attack us with everything they have! You don't just assasinate several heads of state in the middle of an American city, then blame it on a Taiwanese national!"
"The Yankees did the same thing with their President Kennedy, and everyone still believes the rubbish about the so called 'Magic Bullet!' Think of the payoffs! We could annex Taiwan!"
That immediately stirred up a hum of approval from all members of the Politburo. It was going to be a long, long year.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
I got some of the inspiration from Tom Clancy.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
And so, it all began...
It was a cold morning out in the middle of the Taklamakan Desert. As the sun had not yet risen, the desert was freezing, freezing cold. Outside, not even the sand lizards had stirred from their deep, deep sleep. But just outside of the training camp's perimeter, inside a small guardhouse, an unimportant man was receiving an important call...
The man stood there, in the uniform of a Chinese private, like several hundred thousand other ones in the PLA. He was almost asleep, and a combination of the cold and the cigarettes he had been smoking put him in a state of drowsy euphoria. He sat on a rough wooden crate. To his immediate left was a black telephone with a rotary dial. It rarely, if ever, rang. Suddenly, the private was jolted out of his bliss by it's ringing. He stirred, and lifted the phone.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Who are you?"
"I am no one other than a sentry, at Special Training Base 2819. What do you ask for?"
"We will be making a visit shortly. Official business. If you are wondering who we are, you shall find out in a few minutes."
And so, barely seconds later, the private heard the noise of an operating engine. He looked up at the gravel road, and saw a black Mercedes drive down to the guardhouse. It stopped at the lifting safety gate, and the right passenger window was rolled down to reveal a face. The man whom the face belonged to produced a laminated card from his coat pocket, and handed it to the private.
"This should be adequate clearance," the man said. As he watched the private fumble with card, he began to get angry. "Can't you read, you under-evolved Mongol neanderthal!?"
The private understood the message and pushed a red button that was mounted on the telephone. The red and white striped saftey gate pivoted upwards, and the Mercedes drove past, but not before the man had retrieved his identification card.
The private wondered to himself what a member of the Politburo would be doing out here, in the middle of the Desert of No Return...
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
The black Mercedes drove past the guardhouse, into the camp, down the main dirt road. It continued on for several minutes, past the barracks and the armory, until it came to a stop in front of a large, pre-fabricated corrugated steel structure. It was distinguished from the other buildings by it's size, and a large, wooden sign above the door, which announced "HEADQUARTERS" in bright red, spray painted letters.
There was a light click as the door unlocked, then a creaking moan as it fell open on it's own weight. Inside it's darkened interior, something moved. Then, two feet were extended out from the door, and onto the ground. The feet straightened, lifting the body they belonged to up and out of the car.
The person took a deep breath of the fresh, crisp country air, and strode over to the door of the headquarters building. He knocked on the door in a mocking fashion, then simply pushed it open. The man looked around. Turning straight forward, he walked down the building, to a small, flimsy-looking plywood desk, at which a man in a Colonel's uniform sat.
"Minister Jeng. What a pleasant surprise..."
"Silence!" Jeng yelled. "I shall have no admistrative stalling from you! What I need is answers!"
"For what question, sir?"
"I need a good man, preferabbly one with a good shot, and with a good sense for stealth. We need him for a highly important mission," he said, arrogantly. "If we do not get such a man, your incompetent hide shall be busted all the way back down to PRIVATE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?" he yelled, lifting the Colonel up by his collar.
"Yes, sir, I understand..."
"Good." Jeng released his grip, dumping the colonel down on the chair.
"We have a few commandos specializing in sniper missions..."
"Would they be good bazooka shots?"
"A bazooka? What for?"
"We need to eliminate...a vehicle target...in a dense urban area, preferabbly making it seem as if the Taiwanese were behind it, giving us reason to invade them, therefore eliminating one of our three main business rivals. You do not need to know who is the target, exactly. You just need to know what you need to provide us with. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," the colonel answered. "Crystal clear."
"Excellent," said Jeng. "I shall be back here in exactly 48 hours to check on your progress."
With that, Jeng turned around, and stormed out of the headquarters building. He hopped into the Mercedes, and slammed the door shut.
The colonel made a mental note to avoid this particular minister of the Politburo. It seemed that the rumors of his temper tantrums were well founded, after all...
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
Also, the style was a side effect of time constraints. I write a bit, and leave it off at critical points, to give suspense, and drama. I also keep it short, to keep fresh mentally.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
Thousands of miles away, in the North Atlantic, an event of significance equal to Jeng's visit to the training base was occuring.
The storm had abated a few hours before, and salvage operations were being conducted on the F-15. It's homing beacons had been knocked out in the crash, so the wreckage was located using a reconnasaince satelitte. Now, a specialized USN salvage vessel was picking over it's remains.
"Easy there, easy does it..."
An officer in USN uniform stood on the slippery deck, motioning with his hands. Left, right...up...down...
He was directing a winch holding the black boxes of the F-15 down onto the deck. He wondered why they called them black boxes...as they were actually high visibility orange. Finally, the officer, a lieutenant, breathed a sigh of relief as the black boxes were set down gently on the deck. He immediately rushed over, struggling not to slip, and he lifted the black box up, and carried it over, onto the bridge. He set it down on one of the many desks, and pulled out a laptop from his backpack. Next, he took out a long cable, and plugged one end into the laptop, and another into the black box. Immediately, a window popped up, displaying the relevant data. The liuetenant fast forwarded through the first fifteen minutes until suddenly, he saw a massive EM spike. The data stopped there.
"Major, come look at this, sir..."
The Major was a husky, burly man who had spent years in the military. He walked over to the lieutenant, and began talking.
"What's up?"
"Look at this, sir..."
The lieutenant rewound the tapes, then played them back. As before, the EM spike showed up, and then everything went black.
The major stared incredulously at the spike. He rubbed his eyes.
"Ya know, sonny, this reminds me of somethin' that happened in '82. Problem with the big ICBMs...Anyway, while I was on a visit to the launch sites as a corporal, I saw a bright point of light floating outside. Then, there was a massive EM spike on the readouts, and then 10 of the missiles failed instantly. They just went blank. All my life, I've wondered what that object was. I've always believed in aliens. And now...well...those aliens have just gotten agressive on us."
Little did they know that this deed was the doing of a more terrestrial force.
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
You knew it! The Chinese! But anyway...
At an airbase in the Taklamakan Desert not too far from the secret training base the Minister had visited, a foul brew was on the stovetop burners...
A stench reminscent of diesel fuel filled the air as sirens began to ring. There was a low rumble, and two large grey steel doors began to part, revealing an emptiness inside a large aircraft hanger. Men in environmental protection suits were scurrying to and fro, as everyone and everything got out of the way. Just as the last fuel truck had unhooked it's lines from the side of the hangar, the stillness inside the hangar began to move...
At first, it was little more than a small glint. But the glint grew larger, and larger. Soon, it began to define it's shape, as it began to move forward. The glint grew wider and wider, and sharper, and sharper. Finally, a portion of the object emerged from the hangar, then more, and more of it...
As a significantly larger proportion became visible, the shape became clearer. The front of the object tapered to a thin, sharp apex, which curved backward. Finally, it became clear that the object was shaped like a sharply-swept crescent.
At the rear of the object were two large openings...
The openings began to glow, and the object began to move forward, as a blue flame erupted from both ports.
The object accelerated to a high speed, and lifted off. It moved at a high speed and dissapeared underneath the horizon within seconds.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Ksim3000
|
|
Hey, this is great! Can't wait to find out what this object is!
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
However, the Chinese were being watched...
A KH-11 reconnasaince satelitte was circling overhead, just as the fighter was launched. It quickly detected the takeoff, and zoomed in...
Seconds later, it was beamed to NSA Headquarters.
"What the hell?..."
A man pointed down at the uplink screen, jabbing at a crescent shape moving westward at high speed.
"I don't know."
The man's name was Patrick Flannery. He was an analyst for NSA, and his job was to stare at satelitte photos.
He continued squinting.
"Oh my god...That looks like a god damm stealth bomber..."
"It's not a stealth bomber...it's a god damm saucer."
The image tracked the fighter westward.
"Look. Look. There's a Polish F-16...oh god..."
The fighter was over Poland within seconds. As it did so, it was spotted by a Polish F-16. And the Polish F-16 suffered a fate similar to that of the B-2. It dissapeared from the sky in a huge ball of fire.
"Well...now we know who's to blame," said Flannery.
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
Flannery immediately reported what had happened to NORAD. NORAD in turn informed the President. And the Presdinet informed the Army to get a commando group ready...
Meanwhile, it was 48 hours since Jeng had last visited the commando training base. Sure enough, the poor colonel had assembled the cream of the crop: a group of unusually suicidal and enothousiastic raging pyschopaths with surprisingly good aim.
"Don't worry sir...they're suicidal, and they have good aim. I can prove it, sir..." the Colonel said.
"All right," replied Jeng. "But you have one chance only."
"All right, men!" the Colonel yelled. "Show the Minister what you have!"
And so the airborne target drone was launched. Sure enough, the first commando knocked it out with a single shot from his pistol, at 500 metres.
The second target drone was launched, and it met a similar fate.
This continued until each man had finished the job at least once, with a pistol, a sniper rifle, and a bazooka.
"You know, Colonel, I feel like promoting you to General..."
"Thank you, sir..."
"That target is going to be history soon."
Both men laughed at the Minister's joke, one out of fear for his life.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
PresidentMarcos
|
|
And so, the Chinese commandos chosen for this grim task were immediately taken to a local airport. There, they were put under the guise of "students" visiting a "university" in Washington, D.C. It was then that they were briefed on their task. Their target was to be the President of the United States, and several other visiting politicans.
Being psycho and sociopaths, as well as noted sadists, the commandos jumped with giddy delight at this new opportunity. However, this did not matter...
Soon the airliner touched down at the Washington, D.C. airport. The chauffered cars drove away to the hotel where the commandos would be staying. It overlooked the street where the president would make his appearance...
God Help the President...
Because no one else will!
|
|
| |
|
| |
All times are GMT. The time now is 05:28.
Apolyton Time is 00:28. |
top of page
|
|
|
Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts
|
HTML code is ON
vB code is ON
Smilies are ON
[IMG] code is ON
|
|
|
|
|
|
26-05-2003 06:32
Not bad. Not good either. 
Must be a 50 calibre pistol to go that far 
|