Edolia
08-01-2005, 02:57
“Perhaps it would be better if you drove, Vil.” Bern von Sindari was getting irritated. It was the middle of the day and he had been driving since midnight. Brushing a hand over his sweaty forehead, he sighed. “You’re going to need me fresh when we hit Noldorin territory.” Bern pointed to one of his pointed ears and smirked. “I’m an elf and your Sindarin sucks.”
“Fuck you, man.”
“I’m pulling over, dude.” The elf pulled the truck over to the side of the road. “Just fucking drive, ok?” Vil von Derist mumbled something under his breath as he opened his door and stepped out onto the road. He stretched and pushed a few strands of long, dirty brown hair out of his eyes. With a glare at his partner, he pulled out a lighter and lit up.
“How long until we hit the Hogsweat border?” Vil asked impatiently.
“Just a few hours.” Bern stepped out of truck as well and strode over to the other side. “Watch out for potholes. This road hasn’t been paved for a while.”
“Then why are we using it?” whined Vil.
“Because there aren’t any better roads in the goddamn empire. Why do you fucking think?” Bern snapped back. Vil shrugged and plopped down into the front seat of the truck. He turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the accelerator. The truck shot forward and within a few seconds, it was going down the road at a hundred and thirty kilometers an hour. Bern leaned forward and put his face in his hands as the sounds of heavy metal streamed from the radio.
“Shit, pull over,” warned Bern, pointing at the government patrol car moving towards them. Vil maneuvered the car towards the side of the road and turned off the power.
“What can I do for you, comrade officer?” he asked, as a tall man in dark glasses peered in through the window.
“Hello boys,” the patrolman said, coolly. “What are you carrying in the back of your truck?”
“We’ve got about a ton of heroin and about five hundred kilos of cocaine, sir.”
“Alright. I assume you’re dealers?”
“Yes sir.”
“Can I take a look at your cargo?” After a nod from Vil, the officer began walking back towards to the bed of the truck. Bern stepped out of the other side and followed. Opening up the back, he handed the officer a bag, filled with a white powder. “Alright.” The man nodded. “This looks fine to me. Can I see your license?” Bern nodded and fished a wallet out of his pocket, pulling out his smuggler’s identification card. The officer held it up to the light. “Great. Where are you boys heading?”
“We’re, uh, heading to Hogsweat.” Bern wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. The officer looked at him carefully.
“Hogsweat? The Ministry of Narcotics doesn’t authorize smuggling into Hogsweat.”
“No, comrade officer,” Bern said politely, “but it doesn’t prohibit it either. We’re not operating with government money. Anyway, we’ve logged it all with the Ministry. We’re expedition #2016-1645.” The officer nodded.
“Alright. I don’t see a problem. Move on, and good luck.”
“Thank you, comrade officer.” Bern and the patrol man nodded courteously to each other and stepped back into their respective vehicles. As Bern and Vil pulled away from the road, they smiled to each other. “We never had anything to worry about,” Bern said, happily. “We’re not doing anything illegal, after all.”
“Not yet,” laughed Vil.
---
The truck bumped along the road as Bern maneuvered it across the Southwestern Hogsweatian hill lands. They had been driving for four days straight, and Vil was getting very sick of being bumped around. All through Hogsweatian territory, they had had to keep a low profile. The fake license plates they had procured in Edölia had been able to keep the cops off them, which was good, since neither men spoke Hogsweatian. Anyway, it looked like Hogsweat was focusing most of its attention on their new war with the Scandavian States. “It’s just four kilometers to the border with the Menelmacari territories.” Vil looked at Bern meaningfully. “We’re almost there.” Bern laughed.
“And now the difficult part.” His face suddenly became glum. “Getting into their enclave isn’t going to be easy. They’ve got sentinel towers all along the borders, although for now, they’ve just got some temporary stopgaps. The border is as open as it will ever be and once we’re through, we’ll have to make our contact.” Vil nodded and continued to drive in silence.
“We’re nearing the border,” the human said, turning to his partner.
“Slow down,” Bern replied. “The temporary sentinels will have most difficulty detecting objects moving at low speeds. We shouldn’t have too much difficulty getting through if we stay at a good fifteen kilometers an hour.”
The next fifteen minutes were tense, as Vil concentrated on driving over the lightly wooded hills, and Bern sat, his hand, white-knuckled, clamped over the handle of his car door and his eyes glued to the truck’s GPS system. As they passed over the border, he motioned to Vil to stop the truck who quickly put his foot down on the brakes. “We’re going to have to find a good place to stop the truck and make camp. Keep the speed low. We don’t know if the sentinel noticed anything. It could still be tracking us.
“Fuck you, man.”
“I’m pulling over, dude.” The elf pulled the truck over to the side of the road. “Just fucking drive, ok?” Vil von Derist mumbled something under his breath as he opened his door and stepped out onto the road. He stretched and pushed a few strands of long, dirty brown hair out of his eyes. With a glare at his partner, he pulled out a lighter and lit up.
“How long until we hit the Hogsweat border?” Vil asked impatiently.
“Just a few hours.” Bern stepped out of truck as well and strode over to the other side. “Watch out for potholes. This road hasn’t been paved for a while.”
“Then why are we using it?” whined Vil.
“Because there aren’t any better roads in the goddamn empire. Why do you fucking think?” Bern snapped back. Vil shrugged and plopped down into the front seat of the truck. He turned the key in the ignition and stepped on the accelerator. The truck shot forward and within a few seconds, it was going down the road at a hundred and thirty kilometers an hour. Bern leaned forward and put his face in his hands as the sounds of heavy metal streamed from the radio.
“Shit, pull over,” warned Bern, pointing at the government patrol car moving towards them. Vil maneuvered the car towards the side of the road and turned off the power.
“What can I do for you, comrade officer?” he asked, as a tall man in dark glasses peered in through the window.
“Hello boys,” the patrolman said, coolly. “What are you carrying in the back of your truck?”
“We’ve got about a ton of heroin and about five hundred kilos of cocaine, sir.”
“Alright. I assume you’re dealers?”
“Yes sir.”
“Can I take a look at your cargo?” After a nod from Vil, the officer began walking back towards to the bed of the truck. Bern stepped out of the other side and followed. Opening up the back, he handed the officer a bag, filled with a white powder. “Alright.” The man nodded. “This looks fine to me. Can I see your license?” Bern nodded and fished a wallet out of his pocket, pulling out his smuggler’s identification card. The officer held it up to the light. “Great. Where are you boys heading?”
“We’re, uh, heading to Hogsweat.” Bern wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. The officer looked at him carefully.
“Hogsweat? The Ministry of Narcotics doesn’t authorize smuggling into Hogsweat.”
“No, comrade officer,” Bern said politely, “but it doesn’t prohibit it either. We’re not operating with government money. Anyway, we’ve logged it all with the Ministry. We’re expedition #2016-1645.” The officer nodded.
“Alright. I don’t see a problem. Move on, and good luck.”
“Thank you, comrade officer.” Bern and the patrol man nodded courteously to each other and stepped back into their respective vehicles. As Bern and Vil pulled away from the road, they smiled to each other. “We never had anything to worry about,” Bern said, happily. “We’re not doing anything illegal, after all.”
“Not yet,” laughed Vil.
---
The truck bumped along the road as Bern maneuvered it across the Southwestern Hogsweatian hill lands. They had been driving for four days straight, and Vil was getting very sick of being bumped around. All through Hogsweatian territory, they had had to keep a low profile. The fake license plates they had procured in Edölia had been able to keep the cops off them, which was good, since neither men spoke Hogsweatian. Anyway, it looked like Hogsweat was focusing most of its attention on their new war with the Scandavian States. “It’s just four kilometers to the border with the Menelmacari territories.” Vil looked at Bern meaningfully. “We’re almost there.” Bern laughed.
“And now the difficult part.” His face suddenly became glum. “Getting into their enclave isn’t going to be easy. They’ve got sentinel towers all along the borders, although for now, they’ve just got some temporary stopgaps. The border is as open as it will ever be and once we’re through, we’ll have to make our contact.” Vil nodded and continued to drive in silence.
“We’re nearing the border,” the human said, turning to his partner.
“Slow down,” Bern replied. “The temporary sentinels will have most difficulty detecting objects moving at low speeds. We shouldn’t have too much difficulty getting through if we stay at a good fifteen kilometers an hour.”
The next fifteen minutes were tense, as Vil concentrated on driving over the lightly wooded hills, and Bern sat, his hand, white-knuckled, clamped over the handle of his car door and his eyes glued to the truck’s GPS system. As they passed over the border, he motioned to Vil to stop the truck who quickly put his foot down on the brakes. “We’re going to have to find a good place to stop the truck and make camp. Keep the speed low. We don’t know if the sentinel noticed anything. It could still be tracking us.