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11-24-2010, 12:25 PM | #11 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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He did not want to do this. He did not want to be here.
Flint was standing alone on the cement path overlooking the rows of white grave markers at Arlington Cemetery. The rain had finally stopped but the sky was still showing signs that the deluge could begin again at any moment. He stood staring at the people amassing around the open grave and taking their seats in the rows of folding chairs that had been set up. He had only spoken to her family on the phone this morning and his grief and theirs made it a brief conversation. Flint noticed the empty chair next to her father where he would no doubt be expected to sit. He watched as the honor guard neared, marching in perfect formation with their rifles held at the ready. Her coffin was already there, draped in an American Flag; the flag’s color seemed vivid amid the gray skies. For a moment, Flint’s tactical mind pushed to the forefront of his consciousness. The security team was making constant sweeps through the tree line surrounding the funeral, and with the Secretary of Defense slated to be present, the Secret Service protection detail was in their customary black suits with earpieces scattered among the headstones. They looked entirely too conspicuous as they spoke into their wrists and regarded the attendees through identical Ray-Ban sunglasses. Flint heard the footsteps behind him and went rigid as his right hand closed over the grip of his Beretta which hung in a worn leather shoulder holster under his trench coat. “Easy soldier” the man said as he approached on the path. Flint immediately recognized the voice and released his weapon. Flint’s eyes never left the American Flag over her coffin. Flint tried not to flinch as Sgt. Hauser put his hand on his shoulder. “You decided not to wear the vest”. Flint’s head snapped to the right and he glared into the cool blue eyes of Conrad “Duke” Hauser with a look that required no words. The issue was dropped immediately. “She was the best of us” Flint did not immediately reply or give any indication that he had heard what the other man had said until Hauser turned to leave. “No, she was the best of me.” |
11-24-2010, 02:32 PM | #12 |
Banned
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Cybertron, CA
Posts: 7,041
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boobs
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11-24-2010, 03:12 PM | #13 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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The funeral had ended as solemnly as it had begun.
Her mother had clung to his chest, weeping uncontrollably in fits of gasps and sobs as Flint grimaced through the unabashed display of emotion and finally allowed himself to wrap his arms around the woman as to offer some semblance of comfort. It seemed endless, the friends and family and colleagues who shook his hand, or offered an embrace. “If you need anything “they had all said. But he didn’t, and wouldn’t. The rain has begun again as the canopy of umbrellas were raised and people shuffled off to their cars lost in thoughts of their own mortality. Funerals had a way of doing that. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be here. Flint stood in front of the tombstone looking at the freshly etched lettering of her name. The rain soaked through his beret and seeped down the back the collar of his trench-coat but he paid it no mind. His thoughts drifted back to her laying in the drainage ditch alongside the road, the jagged scrap of steel impaling her body, her blood seeping out onto the ground as her life ebbed away. Then forward to the cold, impersonal morgue deep in the sub-basement of the Pit, the pure white sheet covering her body as she lay on the autopsy table. He gritted his teeth as he remembered the way the spit polished JAG attorney offered the standard, army issue condolences and had him sign paperwork in triplicate verifying the transfer of the body to Arlington. “I should have killed Dela Eden” Flint snapped back to the present and took last look at the grave maker before turning to walk down the path to his car. He was soaked to the core by the time he slipped into the driver’s seat. He grabbed his beret off his head and tossed it in the back seat of the BMW. Closing his eyes he put his head back against the headrest and listened to the rain drum on the car roof. Minutes passed, or were they seconds. If the sound of the passenger door latch startled him he gave no indication, but the Beretta seemed to materialize in his hand. She was wearing a form fitting rain coat that probably cost more than the car and as she slipped into the passenger seat it was impossible not to notice the grace of her every movement. Flint was also immediately aware of the .380 auto in her hand with its laser sight held steady on his chest. She locked her eyes with his through her black rimmed glasses. “Dearest Flint, I’ve come to offer my condolences.” |
11-24-2010, 04:45 PM | #14 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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Goddamn it, I should have worn that vest
Flint did not blink as he stared into the dark pools of the Baroness’s eyes. Her eyes returned the gaze unfaltering in their scrutiny. The laser sight from her pistol was aimed unwaveringly on his chest. His Beretta, in turn, was pointed at her side and dug into the Kevlar vest she was most certainly wearing under her long overcoat. He noted that even at this close range her vest would stop his bullet, it would hurt like hell, but she would still be able to fire off a round or two which would never miss. Flint eased down the hammer on his pistol and tossed it on the dashboard of the car. Resigning himself to the situation, he sighed audibly. “Anastasia, if you’re going to shoot me, get it over with. I’ve just buried my wife, I’m hung-over and really just don’t give a fuck anymore.” His entire day had been filled with stoic resolve that belied his weariness and his own grief. He had worn the mask of strength for her family in their time off loss, and had numbly managed to fumble through the endless waves of pleasantries and obligations that are expected from the grieving husband. Breaking their intent gaze he leaned back into the seat and found himself more at peace in this moment than he had been in days. Funny that looking down wrong end of a gun barrel could do that to a man who was accustomed to violence. “Very eloquent for a Rhodes Scholar, dear Flint” Her accent was not as thick as when they had first met, but coupled with her sarcastic barb, it still sounded as elitist as ever. Twisting in the passenger seat her silky, black hair obscured her face as she tucked away the pistol into one of the pockets of her rain coat. “What do you want?” he asked. HIs voice was withdrawn and he realized that a part of him actually hoped that she was there to grant him relief from this life. “A drink” |
11-24-2010, 05:26 PM | #15 |
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Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Claremont, CA
Posts: 9,613
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I like the simple and direct prose, ala Hemingway. It describes what is going on without removing the reader from the experience with complex methapors or allusions.
Having said this, I have been stroking for the last couple of pages without any release. Baroness better start looking like this soon: |
laurenluna1977 |
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11-24-2010, 09:43 PM | #16 |
Cobra Viper
Join Date: Jun 2009
Location: Grand Junction,Colorado
Posts: 201
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The only people,who would be able to help Flint get through his grief,besides the Baroness,are Destro and Snake Eyes. Then Hawk would need to give Flint a mission,even if it would be a wild goose chase.
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11-24-2010, 10:12 PM | #17 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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Quote:
Feedback is welcome, but I would like to understand it. |
11-24-2010, 11:06 PM | #18 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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“I half expected you to be swilling Budweiser, but 18 year old Laphroaig…I find myself mildly impressed”
Flint regarded at her over the rim of his glass without expression. “Actually, us good ‘ol boys from Kansas drink PBR from a can, but I don’t feel like slumming at the moment” “How droll, dear Flint” She was perched atop a chair at their high topped table which he had chosen for its adequate view of the front door, and ease of exit through the kitchen if became necessary. She was dressed as casual as, he figured, she knew how. Impossibly tight black leather pants, high heeled, knee high boots and low-cut top that looks as if it came straight out of the lingerie section. She had discarded her rain coat on the seat next to her and made no attempt to retrieve her pistol from the pocket. In the dim light of the bar Flint noticed that a silver pendant hung around her neck, a Cobra insignia. “Christ, you don’t even attempt to hide it, do you?” She smiled dismissively and plucked the stuffed olive from her glass and popped it in her mouth. She pouted slightly at the empty glass. “Why ever would I hide my affiliations? You don’t seemed burdened by yours.” She reached over and lightly touched the Ranger pin affixed to his uniform. She offered a smile that looked decidedly evil. “How is that affiliation working out for you at the moment? A dead wife, and a Warrant Officers salary. Surely a man like you is capable of so much more fulfilling endeavors.” She leaned towards him , her fingertips brushing over her pendant which hung low into her ample cleavage. She played the role of power broker very well. Flint locked his eyes with hers. “Baroness……spare me the recruiting rhetoric. I’m not some mal-adjusted kid with delusions of grandeur who you can convince to join up. If you try that bullshit with me again I’ll shoot you where you sit.” From under the table came the distinct double click of a Beretta's hammer being drawn back. The barman cleared his throat as he neared the table to bring a fresh round of drinks. The Baroness held Flints intent gaze for a moment more then sat back, crossed her legs and lifted the martini to her lips in regal fashion. Not many woman could enjoy a martini while staring the wrong way down the barrel of a gun. She was not bothered. “ I find that I have fallen out of favor with Cobra, and more specifically my husband. I need your help.” |
11-24-2010, 11:40 PM | #19 |
IG 4 LIFE
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: The last place you would think
Posts: 17,671
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Yo man this is really intense. Its really vivid and keeps your attention completely. More please
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11-24-2010, 11:49 PM | #20 |
Banned
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Claremont, CA
Posts: 9,613
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I am seeing a distinct lack of the follwing words:
slam; wall; feverishly; tug; pull; mound(s); moist; slick; ruby red; pink; Thailand; wrap; alabaster; erect; ramrod; receiving; screaming; pain; blood; choke; neck; trail; dip; starfish; long; leggy; piledriver; jackhammer; release; arch; bite; lip; tounge; suck; awaiting; lips; penetrate; sword; tease; tight; warm; thrust; heave; destroy; rip; tear; turn; flat; stomach; on; knees; whimper; crest; rise; spin; drain; flood; non-stopping; drench; sheets; an "old-fashion;" lap-dance; rub; over and over; upside down; hand-cuffs; raw; strike; bruise; open-handed; closed fist; spit; and cab fare. |
laurenluna1977 |
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