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01-13-2014, 02:40 AM | #1 |
Barty's Right-hand Man
Join Date: Nov 2013
Location: Ohio
Posts: 7,138
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CH 11
Six repetitive shots rang out, tearing through the silence of the room, as well as the cardboard target that sat twenty-five feet away from the shooter. Smoke billowed from the gleaming barrel of the revolver, while a cold, icy glare emanated from the eyes of Cobra Commander, who stared at the chipped away remnants of what had been a stand-up resemblance of an American soldier. “Very good, sir,” a soldier commented, as he came up to the commander and retrieved the now-empty revolver. “Thank you,” the Commander replied, as he pulled out a forty-five caliber semi-automatic, and peered down at the barrel. “Now bring me another target.” “Um, we don’t have any more targets, sir,” the soldier responded, an uneasiness creeping through him. “Is that so?” the Commander asked, although he still held his focus on the gun in his hands. “Yes, sir.” “Then why don’t you go stand there and be my target?” “M-me? Y-you want me…to be the target?” “That’s the idea,” the Commander replied, finally looking up at the soldier. When he did, however, a maniacal look could be seen in the commanders eyes, through the blue hood draped over his face. The soldier stood stock-still, frozen with fear, unable to move, a wide-eyed expression on his face, as panic filled his body. “What are you worried about?” the Commander asked, in a patronizing tone. “You don’t actually think I’ll hit you, do you? I’m not that good of a shot, am I?” “No, sir.” As soon as he made the statement, the soldier realized what he had said, and immediately tried to recover by adding, “I mean, yes, sir. You are, sir.” “So, then…you do think I’ll hit you.” “Y-yes, sir,” the man whimpered, on the verge of tears. “Well, then I would get over there, because you’ll make a much harder target over there, than you will right here standing next to me.” “But, sir-“ “Soldier, come here,” the Commander said, motioning with his left hand. Trembling, the soldier managed to stumble two steps towards the Commander’s makeshift throne, which was a smaller scale than the one in his actual throne room. “Young man,” the Commander began in a calm tone, as he placed his left hand on the soldier’s right shoulder, in a reassuring manner. Without warning, however, the Commander’s grip drastically tightened, and he yanked the unsuspecting soldier towards him, pulling him halfway over the throne, so the two were face-to-face. “First off,” the Commander hissed in a hateful tone, “You will address me not as ‘sir,’ but by my given title- Commander. And second…when I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done! Now get…over there!” The Commander thrust the young soldier away, which caused him to stumble, and lose his balance. The hooded leader cocked his semi-automatic, much to the regret of the blue-clad soldier, and took aim. Right at the soldier. Out of sheer panic, the young man leaped to his feet, and ran over to the opposite side of the room, right where his commanding officer had ordered. The soldier kicked the destroyed cardboard cutout aside, and took I’s place, his entire body shaking out of fear. “Ready?” the Commander asked, almost gleefully. No response emanated from the soldier’s mouth; he simply whimpered, and stood where he was. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The Commander pulled the trigger, over and over, repeatedly firing bullet after bullet across the room, however, none of them hit the soldier. He jrked and twitched out of natural reaction, but was not struck a single time. Finally, the gun clicked, signaling that it was empty. The soldier could not believe it. “Well, what do you know?” the Commander asked, lowering his weapon. “I missed. I guess I am that bad of a shot, after all, huh.” “I-I-I-I-I s-suppose so, s-s-sir,” the soldier stammered, as all the fear hadn’t quite left him, yet. “Shall I try again?” the Commander asked, a sick joy in his eyes as he held up a spare magazine for the soldier to see. The young man’s eyes went wide, as the realization set in that his near-death experience was not quite over. However, before the Commander could take the psychotic situation another step further, the door to the room opened, and the Baroness appeared in the doorway. “Excuse me, Commander,” the Baroness began in her thick accent, “But I have an update on our opposition I thought you would like to hear.” “Excellent, Baroness,” the Commander happily responded. “But not until I’m done with my target practice.” With extreme swiftness, the Commander expelled the spent magazine, jammed the new one in, turned towards the soldier at the opposite side of the room while chambering a round, and opened fire. Continuous shots echoed throughout the room as the Commander repeatedly pulled the trigger. The Baroness watched on as the soldier’s body twitched and jerked with every bullet that struck him. By the time the Commander was finished, the magazine was empty, and the soldier was dead. Every bullet struck him somewhere on the body, ending his life, yet bringing seemingly new life to the Commander. Lifeless, the body toppled over onto the cold, tile floor, as the Commander turned to the raven-haired woman. “Aha! Did you see that, Baroness? I didn’t miss! Not a single shot!” “Very good, Commander,” the Baroness stated, evenly. “Guess my aim wasn’t so bad afterall, was it?” the Commander said to the dead soldier as he stepped down off the throne. “Now, then, my dear Baroness,” the Commander began, pausing next to her at the doorway to eject the spent magazine and inject a new one. “What slice of good news do you have for me?” “ It pertains to the topic of the new anti-terrorist military unit we recently learned about,” the Baroness began, opening the door for the Commander as he holstered his gun. “It is good news, is it not?” the Commander asked, pausing in the doorway to look the young woman in the eyes. “Yes, Commander,” the Baroness replied, following her leader out into the hallway. “Good. Then let’s hear it.” Cobra Commander strolled down the sparsely lit, plain-colored hallway, as the blue-clad Baroness walked one step behind him, and to the right, just as she had been instructed so long ago. “Counter-terrorist Delta-“ “Such a poor choice for names, don’t you agree my dear?” “Yes, Commander,” she replied, aggravated that her leader sometimes went off-track the way he did. “The team consists of Lt-Col. Colton-“ “Lt.-Colonel? I thought he was just a Colonel?” “I believe he recently received a promotion.” “Ah,” the Commander responded, as they stopped in front of the Commander’s quarters. “Have I ever given you a promotion?” “No, Commander,” the Baroness answered. The Commander nodded once as he unlocked the door, then stepped inside, without saying another word. The Baroness took a quick deep breath, then let it out as she stepped inside after him. “Apparantly, Lt.-Col. Colton is in charge of Counter-terrorist Delta,” the Baroness explained, as the Commander went over to his desk and removed his hood. “He has a field commander by the name of Clayton ‘Tomahawk’ Abernathy, and the team itself consists of eleven members.” “So thirteen altogether?” the Commander asked over his shoulder as he uncapped a bottle of water he had picked up off of his desk. “Yes.” “Hm. Lucky thirteen,” the Commander commented, then took a long drink from the bottle. The Baroness closed her eyes and calmed herself as she enjoyed the momentary silence, then broke it by asking, “Do you require the names of the eleven specialists, Commander?” “Do you have them?” “Yes, Commander.” “Hm. Impressive. “But, no, I don’t need them.” The Baroness silently subdued her impatience, then collected herself as the Commander turned around to face her. “What kind of specialists have they enlisted in their so-called anti-terrorist task force?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest while leaning back onto the large wooden desk. “They have mortar soldiers, communications officers, infantrymen, vehicle operators, and a lot of infantrymen.” “And what of out so-called informant in the D.O.D.? Has he been dealt with?” “Affirmative, Commander,” the Baroness answered with confidence. “He was replaced a week ago. That’s how I was able to attain all this information. He is quite good.” “As well he should be!” the Commander suddenly shouted, springing forward off of his desk while simultaneously flinging his water bottle across the room. The Baroness jumped from her leader’s sudden outburst, but quickly maintained herself so as not to suffer any of the Commander’s wrath, and to also prepare herself for whatever else he might do. “He’s a member of Cobra! We only enlist the best! “Let them have their communications officers,” he continued, pacing back and forth in front of his desk, while the Baroness watched on, wide-eyed behind her green glasses. “Let them enlist their infantrymen! Let them invest in their vehicle operators! Allow them to coerce their communications officers! Do you know why?” The Commander was now standing in front of the Baroness, staring down into her awe-filled eyes, as she waited for some form of revelation to spill forth from the floodgates of her leader’s mind. “Because they are not ruthless!” he continued, raising his voice again, as he returned to pacing the floor. “They are not aggressive! Let them fight for their ideals! Let them champion their causes! Make way for the freedom fighters of this vast land, so that we may coil up, and strike when the time is right! So that we may grind them under the heel of our boot, and march through Washington, and make it our own. Let us lower the flag of our forefathers, and raise the flag of our future generations. No longer shall it bear the stars and stripes. No longer shall it stand for freedom, equality, and democracy. No! Let the cobra wave proudly in the winds of change. Let the new regime hang proudly, and boldly, from every mountaintop across this once-great land. “No, my dear Baroness, we shall not fear their so-called specialists. For they don’t have our drive. They don’t have our thirst for vengeance! They don’t have the audacity of the anaconda! The viciousness of a viper! The roar of a rattler! The coldness of the copperhead! They don’t have the evil of the asp! The perfection of the python! Nor do they have…the cunning of the cobraaaaaaaa!” The Baroness remained where she was, stock-still, unsure of what she should do, if anything. As the Commander stood several feet away from her, in front of his desk, it seemed as though he were almost having a religious expeirence. His head was thrown back, his arms outstretched into the air, his chest heaving up and down. Finally, the Commander lowered his arms, and his head, a pleased, almost joyful expression across his unmasked face. A sinister smile made the Baroness uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the first time, and she deuced that it would not be the last. Sweat was trickling down the Commander’s brow, and the edges of his brown hair were damp, matted to his head. “But most importantly, my dear Anastasia,” the Commander continued, this time in a calm, docile tone, as he slowly made his way towards the young woman, arms outstretched, almost as if he were welcoming her. He stopped in front of her, a warm, almost caring smile upon his face, as he looked down into her eyes, similar to a father looking down at a child in pride. His hands were on her shoulders, and his eyes were penetrating her stare, so much in fact that she wished he would put his hood back on. She dare not request it, though, for fear of how he would retaliate. Besides, as uncomfortable as it sometimes made her, it was indeed an honor; he never removed his mask in front of anyone else. “Most importantly, what they do not have…is you.” With that, the Commander suddenly leaned down and kissed the Baroness, taking her by complete and utter surprise. The Commander had a history of doing uncanny things, and possessing odd mannerisms and personality traits. Ever since she had become acquainted with her superior officer, however, he had never acted in such a manner as he was currently. The raven-haired woman was so caught off-guard that she didn’t fight back. She didn’t embrace the kiss, which was starting to become prolonged. She didn’t wrap her arms around him, didn’t kiss back, or even press her lips further against his. Her eyes remained open, and her anxiety remained high. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Commander pulled back, a satisfied look on his face. The Baroness, meanwhile, just stood there in amazement. “Now, then, my dear Baroness,” the Commander began, in a soft soothing tone. Baroness could still not move, but she was not looking forward to whatever the Commander was about to say next. “Why don’t you go and fetch me one of my female officers, hm?” “F-female…officers?” “Mm-hm. All this talk of global domination and rule through an iron fist has, well…it’s gotten me in the mood, if you catch my drift.” “Umm…yes, sir, I…absolutely catch your drift,” the Baroness replied, still attempting to recover, then added under her breath. “Unfortunately.” “A stirring in my loins, if you will.” “Oh, god- certainly, Commander, I’ll go right now.” The Baroness turned to leave, but as soon as she did, the Commander added some extra emphasis by smacking her on the butt, and stating, “That’s my girl.” It stopped the Baroness dead in her tacks, but she quickly recovered, and left the room. Once outside in the hall, she leaned against the bare wall, and, as soon as the door clicked shut, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “He’s crazy,” she mumbled to herself in disbelief of everything that had just transpired inside the Commander’s quarters. “He is absolutely bat-shit freaking crazy.” “Everything alright, ma’am?” Without realizing it, the Baroness had been leaning against the wall, hand over her eyes, trying to forget the last ten minutes of her young life, when a random soldier had come upon her. “Huh? Yes, everything is fine.” The soldier nodded silently, then turned to go about his business, but the Baroness stopped him by suddenly adding, “Soldier, soldier! I need you to do me a favor. Actually…the Commander needs you to do him a favor. I need you to go find me a female officer, and…actually, just get all the female volunteers you can, and send them to the Commander’s quarters. On the double.” “Yes, ma’am,” the soldier replied. To the Baroness’ relief, the soldier didn’t speak another word; he simply turned, and headed off down the hall, while the Baroness turned and headed in the opposite direction, to her private quarters, and her collection of vintage wine. CH 12 The green military jeep drove steadily along the paved two-lane road, as the sun hung brightly overhead, and the mild breeze blew over the two occupants inside. Col. Abernathy and Specialist Wilkinson hadn’t spoken much in the two hours since they’d left the pit. The Colonel drove, keeping his focus on the road, while Lonzo took in the scenery. Finally, the young Specialist broke the silence. “Sir, I appreciate you giving this idea of mine a chance, and even coming along, but if you had things to do, I’d have gladly made the trip solo.” “Not a chance,” Abernathy replied. “As much as you talked this man up, I want to be the first to meet him.” Both men looked at each other and grinned, then returned their attention back to the road. This time, the Colonel was the one to break the silence. “You know, Specialist Wilkinson, I gotta say, I’m real proud of you. Not only did you step and try to help the team, but you stood up for a friend, all the while taking a lot of guff from me. Please understand, I wasn’t trying to attack you…I was testing you.” The former Ranger looked over at the Colonel, a doubting look on his face, but he remained silent. “I know, I know, you smell bullshit, but it’s true. You’ve got a lot of potential, and I want you to reach it. Proving yourself last night was a good step in the right direction.” “Thank you, sir, but that’s what teammates do, right? Help each other? Stand up for one another? Take the rap…for one another?” The two men grinned at each other once again, then the Colonel stated, “Thought you might’ve forgotten about that.” “About you saving my career over in Borovia?” Lonzo asked, as Col. Abernathy slowed down, preparing to take the dirt road on the right up ahead. “No, sir. Why do you think I signed up for Delta?” “Why do you think I chose you?” Hawk replied, guiding the jeep off of the main road. They continued on in silence as they traveled a couple miles into reaching a small logging camp. The Colonel slowly drove the jeep through the middle of the camp, looing around for any sign of life. “Your boy got an address?” the Colonel asked, passing the general store and bank. “Nope,” Specialist Wilkinson answered, matter-of-factly, taking in the sights of the camp, as well. “We’re gonna have to stop and ask somebody.” Col. Abernathy spotted two men over by the town’s post office, so he drove the jeep over there, and stopped. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” the Colonel began, as the pair turned suspicious stares at the two soldiers in the jeep. “My associate and I are looking for a friend of ours, supposedly lives here somewhere. We were wondering if you might have seen him.” Lonzo passed the faded, worn picture that he held over to the Colonel, who gave to the older of the two men. The man looked it over for a moment, then finally shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, sonny,” the man began. “Can’t say that I’ve ever seen this man. ‘Course, it ain’t the best picture in the world, either. Kind of blurry. “Yea, he’s a little camera-shy,” Lonzo stated, dryly. “Hey, waitaminute, I know that guy,” the other man, a postman, said. He had been standing behind the older man, looking over his shoulder at the picture Lonzo had provided. “You do?” Col. Abernathy asked, a hopeful tone in his voice. “Yep. Not well, mind you. Hasn’t been down here into town going on three years now. Gets his mail and supplies up at the high logging camp.” “Sir, don’t think I don’t appreciate your pointing us in the right direction, but how is it you recognize a man you’ve only seen once or twice, and haven’t seen for three years?” “I understand your skepticism, son, but that fella…there’s something about him. One look at him, and you could tell, there was a sadness to him, a lot of pain. Like he was carrying some great loss around with him, as if they were sacks of rocks, slung over his back.” “Yep, that’s him, alright,” Lonzo said to the Colonel in a soft tone. “I’m much obliged to you, sir,” Col. Abernathy said with a nod, as he started the jeep up. “Think you could help us one last time, and point us in the direction of where he might be?” “Just take this road straight up into the mountains,” the postman answered, turning and pointing at the winding road just beyond where the group stood. “It’ll take ya right to him. If ya get lost, just stop at the camp. They can point ya the rest of the way.” “Again,” the Colonel began, putting the jeep into gear, anxious to get up the mountain, “We’re indebted to you.” “Uhh, well, since you feel that way,” the postman began, halting the pair of soldiers from advancing. “You think you might be able to tell me what you two boys want with him? He don’t get many visitors, afterall.” “Uhh,” Col. Abernathy began, looking at Lonzo expectantly, “Just need to talk to him about something, is all.” “Job opportunity,” Specialist Wilkinson quickly added, all of a sudden. “Right,” Abernathy quickly agreed, nodding at the former Ranger. “Job opportunity.” “You boys drafting again?” the older man asked, eyeing them suspiciously again. “You could say that,” Col. Abernathy answered, shifting the jeep into gear again, hoping that the two locals would stop with the questions, and simply let them be on their way. “Alright, well, I don’t want to keep ya,” the postman said, stepping aside, almost as if he had read the Colonel’s mind. “I didn’t mean to pry, it’s just that…well, I think you two fellas should be careful, that’s all. “Oh, I think we should be okay,” Col. Abernathy said, looking over at his companion, who nodded confidently. “I didn’t think bears were even in season right now.” “It’s not the bears you have to worry about,” the postman replied, “It’s him.” “Him?” Col. Abernathy repeated, not sure if he’d heard right or not. “Yea, him. Your friend.” “Why would we need to be worried about our friend?” “Well, it’s just that the lumberjacks up there say he’s a werewolf.” “W-werewolf?” Col. Abernathy stammered, totally caught off-guard. “Yea, you know, a werewolf. Fur, tail, howls at the moon. They say he even has some mark or something on his one wrist.” Col. Abernathy and Specialist Wilkinson stared at each other for a moment, wide-eyed, neither of them speaking, but both thinking the exact same thing. “Well, good luck to ya,” the postman added, before both he and the old man turned and headed away from the two visitors. “Got any garlic?” Col. Abernathy asked, staring up at the winding road as it disappeared into the mountain. “Sir, that’s vampires,” Specialist Wilkinson replied, looking up to where the road trailed off, as well. After the two military men finally worked up the nerve to pursue their quarry, they drove up into the woods, using the only road that was available, without a single word being spoken between them. During the drive, Specialist Wilkinson kept asking himself, “What have I gotten Col. Abernathy into?” while Col. Abernathy kept asking himself, “What has Wilkinson gotten me into?” After several silent minutes, they pair came upon a lone cabin, off the road, sitting all by itself. It was entirely made out of logs, but looked sturdy, and fortified. Smoke seeped from the brick chimney, but no sign of life emanated from the cabin, otherwise. “What do you make of all that ‘werewolf’ talk down there in the camp?” Specialist Wilkinson asked, breaking the silence as both men stared at the cabin. “Just a bunch of superstitious nonsense,” the Colonel answered. “Okay. Then you go in first.” Lonzo turned and looked at Col. Abernathy, who had a perplexed look on his face, yet said nothing. “What?” the former Ranger asked, innocently. Sighing, Col. Abernathy got out of the government-issued jeep, drew his sidearm, and cautiously made his way to the cabin’s front door. After knocking twice, and getting no response, the Colonel carefully opened the door, allowing he and Specialist Wilkinson to step inside. No sooner had they gone into the cabin, than they both stopped, Col. Abernathy more abruptly because of what he saw, with Specialist Wilkinson running into him due to the sudden stop. However, looking over his commanding officer’s shoulder, the young man could clearly see why. Across the room, taking a few cautious steps towards the two men, was a full size grey wolf. “Hol-lee shit,” Col. Abernathy exhaled, with neither he nor Lonzo moving. “If that’s-“ “At ease, Col. Abernathy, sir,” Specialist Wilkinson began, “That’s only a wolf.” Just then, there was a creak behind them, from the doorway, and a shadow spilled onto the floor, in the general shape of a man. “That’s our man, coming in the door behind us.” Both Specialist Wilkinson and Col. Abernathy turned fully around to see a man standing in the cabin’s open doorway, silhouetted by the sun. He was fairly tall, a few inches over six feet, with a good build. Broad shoulders, yet thin arms and legs, all of which were muscle. He wore a floppy hat, but his blonde hair still curled out from underneath, reaching down to his shoulders. He had on a flannel shirt, unbuttoned, with a long-sleeve tee underneath. He wore camo pants that looked like they’d been from his military days, and black hiking boots covered his feet. He had a thick blonde beard covering his face, and the shadow from the brim of the hat covered his eyes. The two men could still feel him staring at them. “Looks like he’s been out hunting rabbit,” Specialist Wilkinson stated, referring to the pair of dead animals the young man held in his hands. “Without a gun.” “Sarge?” the hermit-like individual asked in surprise once he laid eyes on his old friend. “Hey, bud, long-time-no-see.” “What’re you doing here, Lonzo?” the man asked in a gruff voice as he brushed past the Colonel and the specialist. “What, can’t a guy look up an old friend?” “No,” the stranger quickly replied, glancing over his shoulder, before he started to clean the rabbits. “How was Japan?” “Ya know something, Lonzo, I don’t really feel like catching up, if you don’t mind.” “Okay, man, okay,” Specialist Wilkinson replied, putting his hands up into the air in a surrendering sort of fashion. The cabin went silent, as the gruff mountain-man continued cleaning his dinner. Col. Abernathy looked at Lonzo, who only shrugged, unsure of what to say or do. He had never seen this side of his former military comrade before, had never seen him act that way. To say he was taken aback was an understatement, and if the Colonel had asked the former Ranger if he was afraid at all, Lonzo might have nodded, ever so slightly. “If you came to catch up, you’re doing a lousy job,” the stranger said, breaking the silence. “Because you’re not saying anything. Plus, seeing as how I only have two rabbits, there’s not enough for you two, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to ask you to stay for dinner.” “That’s okay,” Lonzo replied, “We know when we’re not wanted.” “Doesn’t seem like it.” “Look, friend, I’m sorry that we disturbed you up here in your isolated little environment,” Col. Abernathy began, speaking for the first time since the occupant of the cabin had shown up, “But is there some other reason why you’re being a grade-a asshole?” “Yea,” the man answered, pausing to look over his shoulder at the Colonel. “There’s a lot of them.” With that, he turned back around to his rabbits, but in the slim instant, Abernathy saw something in the young man’s eyes, something that made him shiver. Death, pain, and sadness plagued the former soldier’s eyes, and the severity of it made the Colonel very uneasy. Col. Abernathy had seen plenty of pain, death, and sadness, it went with being in the military, and he was sure that the other two men in the room had shared similar, if not identical experiences, but there had been something else in the blonde’s eyes, something…darker. In fact, the Colonel hadn’t realized that the glance had bothered him so much until the wolf began growling at him, bringing to his attention that his hand was on the butt of his service pistol. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Lonzo warned his superior, as he eyed the wolf. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to put him on edge,” Abernathy replied, taking his hand off of his sidearm. “Wasn’t talking about the wolf.” “Why don’t you just say whatever it is you came here to say?” the stranger suggested, “So you can go on about your business.” “I have a job opportunity for you,” the specialist stated. “I don’t need a job,” he quickly replied. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have much use for money up here.” “This isn’t about money, pal. This is about a purpose, and having a place to belong.” “I belong right here.” “Oh, will you give me a break?!” Lonzo shouted out of frustration. “You may think you belong here, but I know better, and I damn-sure know there’s no purpose up here in your little world of isolation.” “Can’t hurt anybody up here.” Man, look, I don’t know what you’ve been through, all right? I don’t…but I’ve got a golden opportunity for you here, a place for you to belong, a real family. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s exactly what you need.” “You don’t know what I need.” “Don’t try to complicate it. I don’t have the details, but I’ve got the idea, and I know- I know- this is right for you.” The hermit didn’t respond, so Lonzo decided to simply lay it all out. “Look, times are changing, and the military has to change with it. A team has been put together, an elite unit composed of cor individuals who are the very best we have to offer. I’ve seen these guys, and they’re good, but frankly…you’re better. I’ve seen you in action, and you are the first person I’d want by my side. “I need you…the team needs you…your country needs you. And to be honest, I think you need this team.” “No thanks, Sarge,” he responded, heading over to the cooking pot. “Really? That’s it? You’re just gonna stay up here all by yourself, and pretend the world doesn’t exist? Just let it pass you by?” “Sorry.” “You know, I must have got the wrong cabin. The guy I was looking for knew how to stand up for himself, knew how to stand up for a friend, and help the little guy. He had morals, and character. He was a helluva guy. There’s no way he’d let some global poison of a terrorist cell raise up and destroy what our forefathers built. He wasn’t raised that way.” Lonzo motioned at Col. Abernathy that it was time to go, but in the doorway, the specialist stopped and added, “Maybe I’ll run into that guy down the mountain, because I’ve clearly wasted my time with you.” With that, the pair walked out of the cabin, and headed for their jeep. “Col. Abernathy, I am so sorry, sir. I wasted your time, and drug you all the way out here for absolutely nothing.” “Nonsense, Lonzo,” the Colonel replied, as they got in the jeep. “He’s had a change of heart. Still has the freedom of choice.” “Yea, but I hate someone making me look like a liar.” “Lonzo?” Both men turned to see the mountain man approaching the jeep. “Wait.” He began to say something else when he stopped in front of Specialist Wilkinson, but nothing came out. Last edited by Yojoe77; 01-13-2014 at 02:56 AM.. |
01-13-2014, 09:56 PM | #2 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: Sylmar, CA
Posts: 315
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Ok, I'll wait for Chapter 13. And where can I go to read Chapter 1-10 ?
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01-13-2014, 09:59 PM | #3 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Mar 2009
Location: sitting in my tin can far above the world
Posts: 3,930
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? Doesn't look much like a movie. It's just a bunch of words.
__________________
Feedback: http://www.hisstank.com/forum/g-i-jo...-feedback.html |
01-13-2014, 10:32 PM | #4 |
Barty's Right-hand Man
Join Date: Nov 2013
Location: Ohio
Posts: 7,138
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Quote:
It's how I would like the movie script to have been. Sorry, guess I should have clarified. |
01-14-2014, 05:06 PM | #5 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: Sylmar, CA
Posts: 315
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Thanks! You have some good stuff here and now I must read more of your excellent writing.
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01-14-2014, 05:09 PM | #6 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: Sylmar, CA
Posts: 315
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You ever read Crimson Cloth by Viper 6? That's some good shit too.
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01-21-2014, 09:57 AM | #7 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Italy
Posts: 206
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if threads have a limit of words you can write, publish more posts within the same thread; for every post, one chapter, so you could manage better your work....
Last edited by omegamagnus; 01-22-2014 at 07:30 PM.. |
01-28-2014, 06:51 PM | #8 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Italy
Posts: 206
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that's it?? no more? a bit short for a movie...
if i may, because you have no problem with chars changing, you could make Snake Eyes silent for choice, or hide his face for tactical reasons (he doesn't want to be recognized by Cobra Commander, while he got who the Top Snake is really); I wish you good work, and publish something when you are ready |
02-17-2014, 03:04 AM | #9 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2014
Location: Canada
Posts: 1
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I am truly enjoying this story so far. Will there be any more updates, or is this the end?
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02-17-2014, 06:40 AM | #10 |
NINJA
Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: In the shadows
Posts: 964
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Okay, you are a month overdue with the next chapters of the script that should have been to the GI Joe Movie. Hama basically wrote it, why does Hollywood enjoy f*cking up anything connected to or inspired by a comic?
I agreed, this is how it should have been. SE should have not been scarred and muted until the end of Joe 1.
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