Erid Lor
25-10-2008, 11:03
Uiri’s Capital, En Route To Destination
The low-quality radio played an old tune mixed with static in the aged vehicle, a lorry in the capital of Uiri. Rust showed on the outer door hinges, which squeaked when you opened them; faded, peeling paint of white and red shades still remained on the vehicle. It hadn’t been maintained for a long time. Three men were in the cab, one the driver, the other nervously looking outside at a police cruiser stuck next to them, waiting for the traffic light to turn green in another episode of ‘Rush Hour in the City’. The third looked back into the cargo area, where certain dangerous and illegal mixtures lurked, hidden behind steel and innocuous labels. Around them people stared at the odd vehicle- it stuck out like a cow in a flock of sheep.
As the traffic light turned green and the police cruiser roared off ahead of them, leaving them in the dust- literally-, the second man turned to the third as the first revved the ancient truck, sending polluted, dirty fumes out the exhaust as it moved and lurched forward. “Hey Dusty! How long?”
Dusty scowled. “Stop asking that freaking question! You’re like one of them friggin annoyin’ kids, asking your parents over and over. Well, I got news for ya- WE’RE NOT YOUR FUCKING PARENTS! NOW SHUT UP!” He glared daggers.
James turned away, to which Dusty nudged the first man- Hugh- and sniggered, “Sissy. Bloody sissy.”
The sight of another cruiser, this time to the left, closed that discussion; James began to sweat with fear. “They’re going to catch us! They’re going to catch us!”
Dusty shook his head in disbelief. “For fuck’s sake James! Will you shut up!” This was accompanied by a kick in the shins. James cursed and punched Dusty in the mouth, igniting a brief scuffle before they were pulled apart by Hugh. “You bastards are going to blow our cover. We gotta do dis mission! Get back in your seats and act fucking innocent!”
Dusty began, “Yeah yeah. Tell this son of a bitch!”
Hugh glared. That shut Dusty up.
20 minutes later: Outside Target
The vehicle had finally arrived at its destination- the basement of a prestigious, newly built skyscraper. It had cost, in the words of Dusty, “a hell of a lot of money” to build; people swarmed around outside, barely giving a glance at the vehicle which had so recently sputtered and choked to a halt, coughing exhaust. Opening the door, Hugh jumped down onto the asphalt and motioned for Dusty and James to hurry up. “Got everything?” They nodded. “Good! Let’s go!”
The men set off at a light jog, hoods pulled low over their faces to disguise them. “Keep up, keep up!” hissed Hugh.
James’s eyes darted from side to side, looking furtively at anyone just look any pusillanimous person would do if he felt guilty, never thinking how suspicious it made him look. His cheeks flushed red as if hiding something as he struggled to keep pace with Hugh as they entered an elevator which promptly lifted the trio up to the ground floor. Getting off, they strode as quickly as they could towards a seldom-used parking complex; sweat beaded on their faces as they puffed up the stairs to the third floor, got into an old car, and revved it, speeding off onto a less-used road. James shivered slightly and a chill passed down his spine as they left the city. He started to cry. Dusty shook him with disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
James sniffled. “All those people… all those people who are going to die…”
Dusty’s eyes widened then his brows knit together to form a dangerous V. Shaking James and ramming him back and forth into his seat, he screamed in his face insults and curses, telling him to grow up or fuck off. Hugh looked on from the front side, slightly pleased, then continued driving. At last, Dusty had worked himself up into a temper too dangerous to bottle up any longer. Pulling out his M9 pistol, he shot James in the head, killing the younger man instantly. Grabbing James’s belongings, including another pistol and the wallet, ID, food, water et all, he shoved the body out of the car then slammed the door as Hugh floored the accelerator, leaving the car at least 50m away in the time it took for the body to crumple onto the road, unnoticed by anybody… for now.
Hugh chuckled. “Nice one dude. He had that coming to him.”
Dusty just said, “One less liability.” He was still breathing hard.
30 minutes later: On a forest road
Hugh got out of the car, as did Dusty. “You ready to do this thing?” He inquired.
Dusty nodded and laughed. “It’s been too long. They’ve had this coming to them.”
“Yep,” Hugh replied as he squeezed the button. Miles and miles away, the van suddenly exploded: a fireball erupting out and incinerating everything, a shockwave shaking the very foundations of the skyscraper. People inside the basement screamed- if they weren’t killed that is- and people outside surged and milled around in panic at the sound, trying to get away.
A bomb had been detonated. Much less than Hiroshima’s destructive power. Enough to strike fear into the very hearts of the populace of the despised Uiri, or so the Black Knife hoped.
So Hugh and Dusty hoped.
As all this was happening, Hugh and Dusty got back into the car and zoomed off. Destination?
Frankly, they didn’t really know. Anywhere but the MU… anywhere but a country without an extradition treaty with Uiri.
They didn’t know it, but that country would be the High Republic of Erid’Lor, thousands of kilometers away.
What they also didn’t know was that they had left far too many clues behind for any investigative officer.
What they also didn't know was that the bomb wasn't powerful enough. No collapse, the populace had calmed down, and only people in the basement were affected.
The low-quality radio played an old tune mixed with static in the aged vehicle, a lorry in the capital of Uiri. Rust showed on the outer door hinges, which squeaked when you opened them; faded, peeling paint of white and red shades still remained on the vehicle. It hadn’t been maintained for a long time. Three men were in the cab, one the driver, the other nervously looking outside at a police cruiser stuck next to them, waiting for the traffic light to turn green in another episode of ‘Rush Hour in the City’. The third looked back into the cargo area, where certain dangerous and illegal mixtures lurked, hidden behind steel and innocuous labels. Around them people stared at the odd vehicle- it stuck out like a cow in a flock of sheep.
As the traffic light turned green and the police cruiser roared off ahead of them, leaving them in the dust- literally-, the second man turned to the third as the first revved the ancient truck, sending polluted, dirty fumes out the exhaust as it moved and lurched forward. “Hey Dusty! How long?”
Dusty scowled. “Stop asking that freaking question! You’re like one of them friggin annoyin’ kids, asking your parents over and over. Well, I got news for ya- WE’RE NOT YOUR FUCKING PARENTS! NOW SHUT UP!” He glared daggers.
James turned away, to which Dusty nudged the first man- Hugh- and sniggered, “Sissy. Bloody sissy.”
The sight of another cruiser, this time to the left, closed that discussion; James began to sweat with fear. “They’re going to catch us! They’re going to catch us!”
Dusty shook his head in disbelief. “For fuck’s sake James! Will you shut up!” This was accompanied by a kick in the shins. James cursed and punched Dusty in the mouth, igniting a brief scuffle before they were pulled apart by Hugh. “You bastards are going to blow our cover. We gotta do dis mission! Get back in your seats and act fucking innocent!”
Dusty began, “Yeah yeah. Tell this son of a bitch!”
Hugh glared. That shut Dusty up.
20 minutes later: Outside Target
The vehicle had finally arrived at its destination- the basement of a prestigious, newly built skyscraper. It had cost, in the words of Dusty, “a hell of a lot of money” to build; people swarmed around outside, barely giving a glance at the vehicle which had so recently sputtered and choked to a halt, coughing exhaust. Opening the door, Hugh jumped down onto the asphalt and motioned for Dusty and James to hurry up. “Got everything?” They nodded. “Good! Let’s go!”
The men set off at a light jog, hoods pulled low over their faces to disguise them. “Keep up, keep up!” hissed Hugh.
James’s eyes darted from side to side, looking furtively at anyone just look any pusillanimous person would do if he felt guilty, never thinking how suspicious it made him look. His cheeks flushed red as if hiding something as he struggled to keep pace with Hugh as they entered an elevator which promptly lifted the trio up to the ground floor. Getting off, they strode as quickly as they could towards a seldom-used parking complex; sweat beaded on their faces as they puffed up the stairs to the third floor, got into an old car, and revved it, speeding off onto a less-used road. James shivered slightly and a chill passed down his spine as they left the city. He started to cry. Dusty shook him with disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
James sniffled. “All those people… all those people who are going to die…”
Dusty’s eyes widened then his brows knit together to form a dangerous V. Shaking James and ramming him back and forth into his seat, he screamed in his face insults and curses, telling him to grow up or fuck off. Hugh looked on from the front side, slightly pleased, then continued driving. At last, Dusty had worked himself up into a temper too dangerous to bottle up any longer. Pulling out his M9 pistol, he shot James in the head, killing the younger man instantly. Grabbing James’s belongings, including another pistol and the wallet, ID, food, water et all, he shoved the body out of the car then slammed the door as Hugh floored the accelerator, leaving the car at least 50m away in the time it took for the body to crumple onto the road, unnoticed by anybody… for now.
Hugh chuckled. “Nice one dude. He had that coming to him.”
Dusty just said, “One less liability.” He was still breathing hard.
30 minutes later: On a forest road
Hugh got out of the car, as did Dusty. “You ready to do this thing?” He inquired.
Dusty nodded and laughed. “It’s been too long. They’ve had this coming to them.”
“Yep,” Hugh replied as he squeezed the button. Miles and miles away, the van suddenly exploded: a fireball erupting out and incinerating everything, a shockwave shaking the very foundations of the skyscraper. People inside the basement screamed- if they weren’t killed that is- and people outside surged and milled around in panic at the sound, trying to get away.
A bomb had been detonated. Much less than Hiroshima’s destructive power. Enough to strike fear into the very hearts of the populace of the despised Uiri, or so the Black Knife hoped.
So Hugh and Dusty hoped.
As all this was happening, Hugh and Dusty got back into the car and zoomed off. Destination?
Frankly, they didn’t really know. Anywhere but the MU… anywhere but a country without an extradition treaty with Uiri.
They didn’t know it, but that country would be the High Republic of Erid’Lor, thousands of kilometers away.
What they also didn’t know was that they had left far too many clues behind for any investigative officer.
What they also didn't know was that the bomb wasn't powerful enough. No collapse, the populace had calmed down, and only people in the basement were affected.