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Thunderbird
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Joined: 13 Sep 2009
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Location: Rising from the ashes
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 Posted: Sun Jun 12, 2011 8:42 pm Post subject: Heavy Metal - Chapter 21: A Heart for Gold |
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Heavy Metal
Chapter 21
A Heart for Gold
A growling tiger roared out across a nervous crowd. Centered in the stage, the gorgeous snow-white creature with onyx stripes reared back into the air, standing on its hind legs, balanced on an oversized rubber ball. The great cat coyly waved at the audience under the direction of its sparkling, extravagantly dressed Germanic handler.
Offering an appreciative round of applause, the audience appeared thankful to have the clapping to ground out some anxiety felt in the presence of the fierce animal.
Up above, in a dark booth jutting out from the side wall of the theater, a blonde man in a purple suit clapped lazily, a wide smile hiding the apathy in his eyes from his dual buxom companions hanging off his arms.
Approaching behind the foppish fellow, a far too casually dressed olive skinned female bent to whisper into the man’s ear.
“Ah! Finally! Something interesting!” the short blond stated as he twisted in his seat to look back over his shoulder past the informant girl.
His eyes went wide at the sight of a giant black man who imposingly stood in the shadows of the booth entryway. The girls at his side turned to casually look back as well, looks of complete boredom pasted across their exquisite features.
“Now then,” the purple suit stood and sauntered around the seats to stand in front of the goliath, prowling forward with exaggerated interest, “What do we have here? Is this at long last my tiger?”
A humanoid serpent slithered out from behind the huge man to slip mostly behind a red curtain, as if to be seen by the crowd below would usher death. Meanwhile, the hunched back crusty old salt flanking the dark behemoth answered, “We found ‘im down in them waterways when we was out lookin’ fer the one HE toldja ta find. I’m thinkin’ he’s the one.”
The black skinned muscleman said nothing, just unblinkingly looked the little blond eccentric up and down, noting the crystal cane, the mad-hatter top-hat, the slightly crazed look in the eyes, and the obvious silken quality of the purple suit which spoke of a custom job that would have cost a chunk of coin to produce.
In return, the smaller looked back, studying the bulging, rippling muscles under the scarlet robe the giant had recently been provided, mentally measuring the girth and width of the shoulders, truly a wonder, an obvious marvel of physical power.
“I’ll bet YOU pack a punch,” the purple gentleman giggled with an honest smile now painting his face. “What’s your name big guy?”
“Tyrone Meyer,” the giant answered simply, his deep voice rumbling throughout the booth.
“Tyrone?” the blond giggled harder. “What sort of name is that? You sound like some kind of street thug or runaway orphan,” Tyrone’s eyes began to narrow. “No… no… that won’t do at all. I can’t have a ‘Ty-rone’ working for me. I’d get laughed out of my own clubs.”
Tyrone’s growls harmonized briefly with another belting roar from a team of two tigers on the stage below. “Who says I’m gonna work for you anyhow? What can you offer me that I can’t take? I ain’t lookin’ to take no orders from no god damned cracker in a purple suit anyways. In fact,” Tyrone reached out and lifted the top-hat from the little man’s head, “why shouldn’t I just kill you, and your crew, and take everything you got right now?”
“E’s got a short memory this’un,” the crusty miner stated as he ambled over to lean against a seat near to one of the alluring vixens. She gave him a scrunched up look and shifted over another seat to distance herself.
“Hey! That’s my hat!” the purple suited one exclaimed in boyish irritation. “Give it back!” he pouted.
Tyrone’s rumbling chuckle vibrated the nearby curtain, eliciting a hiss from the snaky one as he taunted, “You want it back huh? Go get it!” He tossed the headgear like a Frisbee over the edge of the rail. To Tyrone’s dismay, however, a sudden updraft caught the hat in its spin and angled it such that it swung back around, gliding to a final rest on the short blonde’s head.
The one the others had called ‘Lucky’ simply smirked, winked, twirled and began pacing behind the booth seats, tapping his cane along the tops of them in thought as Tyrone’s head cocked to the side in wonderment. “How to motivate the beast,” he mused out-loud.
“Give it up, little man,” Tyrone warned, “Ok, so there’s something unusual about you. So what? You ain’t got nothin’ I need. C’ept for the clothes maybe. Thanks for that small favor. But I ain’t gonna serve you or any other foolish idiot just because you gave me some rags to wear.”
“Rags?” Lucky spun around, offended. “That’s the finest Kashmir! So if that’s not enough…” he listed off, stroking his blond goatee in thought as he squinted at the giant. “Ok, then, big guy, what makes you tick then? I’m not too proud to ask. What do you plan to do with your life, while you still have some left?”
“Who knows?” Tyrone answered, smiling. “Who cares? I kinda figured I’d just go wherever I like, do whatever I like,” at this he glanced over at the blond vixen and nodded with flirt glinting in his eyes, “And pretty much just give the finger to the ‘man’ in general. I’d like to see anyone try an’ stop me.”
“Oh, you’ve got power, sure. I can see that,” Lucky began in a negotiating tone, “and I’m confident you’ll go on to live your life, as you say, without any real resistance. Not from any Man, anyhow. But just how long do you think you’ll be able to survive out there on your own with Angels hunting you down? You won’t be allowed to terrorize the world for long before they organize a means of taking you out. And, as I understand it, the Army will be looking for you so they can reverse your blessings, no?”
“How…” Tyrone stumbled a moment. “How did you know that?”
“Oh, I know more about you than you think, my big friend. We have a common link, you and I. Let’s just say we already serve the same master,” Lucky winked as his eyes flashed crimson, causing Tyrone to jump back a step.
“We all do,” the Hispanic brunette agreed as she sauntered over to stand behind Lucky, her tattered jean shorts still tempting Tyrone’s desire to shred them further despite what he knew skin contact with her would mean. Her eyes, too, flashed red in the shadows of the booth. As Tyrone looked around, all in this balcony nodded at him, red eyes glowing. He could hear a distant, low pitched laughter echo from some ethereal place beyond.
“I need you at my side, Tyrone,” Lucky said, breaking the moment. Again, all appeared as human as before, no longer glowing eyes in the darkness. “I’ve been chosen to take our ‘side’ to a new level in the ‘great game’. I know that this might not mean much to you now, but down the road, you’ll find that serving me will be much like serving yourself, only with more vision and purpose. I can give you whatever you want, whenever you want it,” he gestured over towards the blond belle and smiled slyly, then pulled a wad of bills out of nowhere, fanning them out perfectly in his hands as he stepped forward, offering them.
“Hmph,” Tyrone grunted, still doubting any need to join forces with this small madman.
“I am one of the most powerful and influential men in the world, Tyrone. Don’t let looks deceive you. And at my side, you, too, will be graced with such affluence. Why create such minor nuisances as havoc when we can shape the world to our liking? I can make you a great warlord, the master of armies of men and monsters. I can give you power beyond reckoning, and ensure you will always be met with respect, not merely fear, albeit plenty of that to boot. But to do all this, I need your help to reach the goals I have before me. Just a few more hurdles to pass before I can take my seat on a global throne.”
“You have delusions of grandeur little man,” Tyrone scoffed.
“Do I? Why battle the police when you can own them? Why break laws when you can shape them? Why resist the Army when you can command it? You would cheapen yourself to go off on your own as you say you desire. I can give you the true power you seek, the power to never, ever, be a victim again.”
“I thought ‘HE’ already gave me all that,” Tyrone answered, in his voice a hint of the frightened child inside beginning to react to this pin-pointed persuasion.
“And ‘HE’ is more than capable and willing to take it all away unless you SERVE him faithfully. Remember?”
Echoes of the Dark Man’s voice reminded him of the truth of Lucky’s words.
Tyrone nodded, suddenly fearful that his newfound might could be taken back. “He never told me specifically to follow YOU though.”
“Trust me, my friend. I have been told all about you for a reason, no? How else would I know you were once a shattered young boy afraid of the memory of his Daddy?” Tyrone’s knees began to quiver. “How else would I know you shot him to death in angry revenge over your Mother’s murder? Hmm? How would I know these things if HE did not tell me so that I could legitimize my case? HMM?”
“FUCK YOU!” Tyrone savagely roared alongside another Tiger squelch below. He’d had enough. Lunging forward he swung a hambone fist at Lucky’s beak. Wide eyed, Lucky took a step back and, knees hooking on the edge of the seat, tumbled into the chair behind him, Tyrone’s punch swishing harmlessly through the air above.
Growling again, Tyrone lifted a heavy foot and made to bury it in the seat in which Lucky was caught, but finding a slick spot underfoot, he suddenly slipped and fell on his butt. He proceeded to rebound off the floor into the ceiling where his head knocked against granite and threw him back down to land flat against the floor once more, his outstretched body absorbing the majority of the kinetic force rather than propelling him further.
Before he could stand, however, the aged Prospector was pinning both arms up behind his back, twisting them around the haft of the silver pick the geezer wielded, spinning them together like taffy, eliminating the strength to resist.
Tyrone figured he could get to his feet and leap back to smash the Prospector against the wall behind them, but in the process of being engulfed in shock at how poorly his attack had carried out, he took a deep breath and merely growled, “Let me go or you die, old man.”
“Heh,” the miner croaked across old yellowed teeth, his breath smelling just as rank and foul as it might’ve been expected to, “Ah’m afraid you missed yer chance ages ago, brute. Ah’m already dead.”
“No, no, go ahead and let him go, Prospector,” Lucky said as he struggled himself back to his feet, dusting himself off, his long suit tails ruffling. “You know as well as I do that no harm will come to me regardless of what he tries to do. The Master won’t allow it. And I think he gets that now,” Lucky leaned down to make close eye contact with Tyrone, who got a full view of the fires of hell blazing deep within those pupils. “Don’t you, Tyrone?”
Nodding, his arms released to un-wind, he came to his knees rubbing out his shoulders, a look of bewilderment on his face.
Lucky offered a white gloved hand out to help Tyrone up. “Kinda rubbery aren’t you? And since I need you primarily for my protection and dirty work… I think I’ll call you, ‘The Bouncer’. Fitting, no?”
Tyrone merely nodded as he came to stand, maintaining a grip on Lucky’s handshake. “Fitting enough. Alright then. I’ll work with you for now, until I have good reason not to.”
Pulling back his hand, Lucky swished his forefinger, “Uh, uh, nope. Not with me. For me.”
Tyrone nodded. “For now.”
Standing in a corner in the booth, the ghostly elder Tyrone, having watched this chapter of his life unfold, simply nodded and smiled, wondering why he’d felt the need to be such an ass in the first place.
~
“We aughta split up,” General Sternheim stated after some silent thought. “I’ll equip you with an earpiece so you can have constant communication with me. I need you to go after that truck. Find it and figure out what you can about that whole thing. Meanwhile I’ll see what I can do about getting the Bouncer back. That’s a personal and political fight as much as anything and as you pointed out, could be a bit intricate to do right without blowing my rank and position, something I cannot afford to lose.”
“What do you mean to do with him once you’ve got him?” Thomas asked calmly.
“Maintain and study for now. I think it’s only right that he deserves for us to be there for him when he comes clear of that gaze of ‘St.Peter’ spell you’ve got ‘im under. And he’s too great a menace for civilian communities to manage. I don’t want him going back into the service of this rogue Red Shield either. But it’ll take a careful touch to do this right. If I send you in there, it’ll only bring me more problems since they know I’ve got you in my custody. They’d just jump all over you and take you into their cells for questioning anyhow. So try and stay clear of the local authorities as you track down that truck.”
“Of course. That shouldn’t be difficult. But I just need one thing,” Thomas asked.
“What’s that?”
“My Hog. I left it parked at the hospital.”
“Fair enough,” Sternheim answered. “Stick-man! Take us back to the hospital roof!”
“Aw hell maan! Will you guys make up your dang minds about where we’re goin’ already? I’m getting dizzy trying to keep up here!” Stick-man offered comic complaint.
“Holy roller needs his wheels! And we left ‘em back there. So we’re just gonna drop ‘im off and head back over to the Police helipad afterwards. And quit yer bitchin’!”
“Yeah, yeah…” Stick-man protested as the chopper took a steep roll to reverse heading.
~
Sternheim waved at Thomas as the chopper ascended once more from the hospital landing pad, the leathered priest turning and sprinting for the stairwell below.
“Lemme know when you reach your bike. Till then I’m gonna be on a call,” Sternheim stated into his wrist before punching a button on his earpiece, cutting off connection for a bit. Thomas had been briefed on how to hail him when necessary.
Reaching for his cell, he flipped through his call list and hit send. “Get me Chief of Staff Shinseki on the line Goddammit! This is Sternheim!”
Chief Shinseki’s office had gotten used to such calls and knew them to be as important as any business Mr. Shinseki could be summoned for, perhaps even more so than a call from the President himself.
Within seconds, Mr. Shinseki was on the line.
“You got a problem in the Red Shield, Chief,” Sternheim growled.
“I know,” the voice on the other end answered. “But we can’t let it get in the way of the program, General. They are letting him call whatever shots he wants so long as they don’t upset the projects the others have on their plate. Discussions about him have been carried out in hushed whispers among the CFR circles. My Japanese ancestors would not be proud to see that their old enemy from within now holds any sway among us now. But for whatever reason, those Red Shield elders seem to be putting up with him. I don’t know why or how, just that they do. Who can guess at the thoughts of Jewish radicals anyhow?”
“How much do you figure he’s ‘in the loop’?”
“They don’t hide anything among them. You know that.”
“So he knows about everything then? This could be a major security risk here. We’ve been corrupted. God Dammit! It’s like sleeping with the enemy!”
“I know. I’m considering putting in my resignation.”
“You’re WHAT!?!”
“You heard me, Cassius. I don’t know how to work with these new politics. You know I haven’t been finding what we’ve been doing lately very honorable, but the ends always seemed to stretch just a bit further to justify the means. This… this is a final straw for me.”
“And just what the FUCK are we supposed to do with the LRP without you keeping us squirreled away? Area 51? Got ANY plan for all of that or did you figure you’d just set us all adrift to take care of it ourselves?”
“The new Red Shield guy not only owns most of Vegas, he’s got the whole region under his authority. I’ve been planning to move many operations ongoing in Area 51 to Utah and Colorado. Split things up a bit to keep it more ambiguous so he can’t just step in and commandeer the place to his liking. Your location is still safe of course. I haven’t heard any ‘conspiracy theories’ popping up about what’s going on there so that’s secure. And I assure you, the Future Combat Systems Division that you fall under will continue on as it did before. I’m looking to invite an old friend to take the position, if the President will allow it.”
“What ‘old friend’?”
“Schoomaker.”
“Shit, he’s retired for Christ’s sake!”
“I know. I’ve been corresponding with him for some time now and I think he’ll do it. I’d ask you to step up but I think you’re happier where you are. Besides, you’re one of Washington’s best kept secrets and I think we need you to stay that way.”
“Shit yeah. I don’t want any part of your politics. And speaking of which, you know I can’t let those pussy cops try to handle the monster we made, right? Furthermore, I have it on that little birdy’s authority that our Red Shield rogue set it all up so he could just walk in and get his favorite bodyguard back. Seems that’s what Private Myer’s been up to all these years. I don’t wanna see that happen and I don’t think you do either but I know you were pressed back there. So what do you want me to do about it? Cuz you know if it were me, I’d just go in guns blazing. But I don’t think you OR I want those complications do we?”
“I suggest you just take part in the investigation for now then. If our rogue wants him, he’ll have to do it out of sight of those officials he hasn’t paid off. Stick around down there with the cops until confrontation arises. That ought to put pressure on the issue enough that he’ll have to arrange a breakout rather than the usual Vegas style of doing business – a buyout. At that point, you can take Private Myer under the authority given where Police incompetence is shown in the face of maintaining the capture of a prisoner. Of course, you’ll have to come out on top in that fight. Are you prepared for it?”
“Yeah. I wish I’d brought my trainee but he’s got some emotional issues going on right now, particularly where Vegas is concerned, so I figured it was better to leave him back at base. But Kape’s with me. So’s Stick-Man. And I can take care of myself. You know that.”
“Do you think there could be some kind of connection between your ‘trainee’s issues’ and what’s going on out there now?’
“Probably. But now’s not the time to sort all that out. I’m going to have to address one thing at a time.”
“Alright then, General. Good luck to you. Did you have anything else to bring up?”
“Not quite yet. I’ll give you another report when the cards have been dealt as they lay.”
Sternheim huffed as he let the cell phone fall from his ear. Kape bleated next to him, sitting up on the cot and rubbing his neck.
“Feelin’ better huh?”
“Ba-ah-eh-eh,” the goat-man nodded, turning his head to show the wounds had nearly completed all sign of visible healing, only a tint of green and two stark scars showing through the white fur.
“Good. I’m gonna need you to stay on your toes out here. We should be expecting trouble. STICK!”
“Yeah Boss?”
“Keep all motion sensors active. I want you to know if a fly farts too close to the station perimeter!”
“Got it Boss!”
As the huge black chopper blew desert sand and dust into the onlooking faces of a gathered unit of police officers, Sternheim got word over his radio connected earpiece, Thomas whispering, “The hospital was still swarming with cops so it wasn’t easy to get out without being seen, but by the Grace of God I’m at my bike now.” A roar of the hog’s engine rumbled across the radio. “I’ll get back with you when I’ve got a bead on that truck.”
“Alright. Well done soldier. Over and out,” Sternheim tapped the earpiece to cut the connection, musing to himself how natural it suddenly had become to consider the Priest as just another troop in one of his units. Perhaps, he postulated, his God may have, in fact, sent him to be.
As soon as the modified Apache reached the dirt below, Sternheim yanked open the sliding door and hopped to the ground below, shouting behind him, “Watch over the HQ while I’m in here Kape!” A distant bleat answered him over the roar of the chopping propellers overhead.
Storming through the gathered officers he bellowed, “Where’s the Goddammed Police Chief in this hotdog stand?!?”
~
In a simple chamber, the walls painted off-white over concrete blocks, adorned with nothing but a single steel door, a large mirror on one end, two plastic school-style chairs and a rusted steel table topped by a tape recorder and an ash tray with a smoldering cigarette jabbed in its grip, an ancient grizzled man with a wild white beard hankered down over the table.
He faced off against a solidly built and professionally shined police officer. The haggard old one, dressed now in a bright orange top and leg-wear, was handcuffed to the chair behind his back, both wrists and ankles bound to the metal chair legs. Perhaps the most disturbing element of the scene was the battered and bloody left side of the old man’s face, the skin rent from his cheek showing faded old bone and withered muscle beneath.
Hatred burned in the elder’s eyes; no pain appeared evident in his unholy stare. His yellow stained teeth, gnarled forth from under his weathered lips, snapping together and grinding as his jaw flexed in anger and irritation.
The police officer, wearing Lieutenant insignia, obviously in the prime of his career, did his best to confidently poise himself as he sat up and leaned forward to flip on the tape recorder.
“I ain’t gotta answer nuthin’ without a doggone lawyer present,” the grizzled man spat. “But just so’s you kin know how’n’why yer all gonna die, I’d be peached ta’ anser yer questions all the same.”
The cop nodded.
“Sides... Ain’t no lawyer gonna be needin’ ta bail ol’ Prospector out,” again he spat at his craggy feet.
“This is Lieutenant Barnsworth interviewing a man who only calls himself ‘the Prospector’ and gives us no other name. We have not been able to otherwise identify him on record. Said alias ‘Prospector’ has agreed to answer our questions for the record. As a matter of protocol, I shall start from the beginning. Mr. Prospector, sir, please state your name and birth-date for the record.”
“Ah’ll tell ya mah name. Not like it matters none. Mah name’s Harold Stone. Ah’m no longer known as such bein’s as Harold’s been dead for some time now. Since mah passin’ ah prefer ta be referred to as ‘tha Prospecter’. Ain’t got no need for m’old name nohow.”
“Mhmm. And your birthday?” Barnsworth pressed.
“Might’s well ask me when I died. That be the true birthdate of the ol’ Prospecta. An’ that date be somewhere’s around October Nineteenth, Eighteen Fiftah-Two, durin’ tha height of the Nevada Gold n’ Silver rush. As fer m’soul’s birthdate inta this decrepit ol’ heap, ah’d hafta place that on’r abouts D’cember thirtieth, Eighteen Twenty-one.”
The officer’s eyes widened slightly and turned to glance over his shoulder at the mirror behind him with a shrug. Turning back, he added, “You expect me to believe that you were born in Eighteen Twenty-One?”
“Ah don’ give two shits whether ya believe it ‘r not ta be honest with ya feller. It ain’t gonna make no difference ta how ya die.”
“This is truly fascinating,” General Sternheim muttered in the darkness behind the glass mirror. “Thanks for giving me the privilege to at least watch.”
“I’m not the enemy, General. I told you this is just politics that’s out of both of our hands at this point,” muttered Police Chief Garmen, a proud jawed man with graying temples. “I don’t mind helping you where I can.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve still got some talking to do about those politics Chief,” Sternheim reminded, “But this nutcase is just too interesting to watch for now. He hasn’t got a clue what he’s got watching over him right now does he? I always love to see the arrogance prisoners exude when under capture. Still, you’ve expressed to your men to remain vigilant on the station border proximity right? He’s got powerful friends, this one.”
“Of course we have, General. We have been somewhat aware of this guy for a while now. We’ve heard a number of rumors circulating about him throughout the underworld scum life of the Vegas streets.”
“I’ve heard a few rumors myself. A little birdy tells me you’re gonna be asked to release him and my guy, the Bouncer, to some mega-rich casino tycoon.”
“I’m not aware of anything about that, General. But I can say I will do all I can to prosecute these fuckers to the full extent of the law.”
“Yeah, alright. Just watch who’s making the laws, huh?” Sternheim gave the Chief a glance like a grey fox out of the corner of his eye.
“Ok, fine. I won’t debate your birthday or age with you then. You stated what you believe and I’ll move forward from there,” Lieutenant Barnsworth continued after clearing his throat.
“Awlright,” the Prospector nodded.
“Why were you attempting to free the other prisoner we have in holding, Tyrone Myer, a.k.a. ‘The Bouncer’?” Barnsworth held up his fingers in quotation marks as he expressed the alias.
“Cuz we wuz sent ta do so bah Lucky,” the Prospector answered simply. “Y’aught ta know that ‘lready.”
“Yes, Mr. Prospector, we’re asking for the record.”
“Fer the record… hmph,” the Prospector spit once more. “Record t’aint gonna mean shit once yer dead ‘n the place burnt down.”
“Really?” Lieutenant Barnsworth responded snarkily, “I thought people didn’t really move on when they die. According to you.”
“Ahm a special case. Yer rotten soul’s gonna fry right straight after ya pass. Mahn’s be cursed ta wander tha Earth ‘cordin to me agreements with the Lord o’ Hell. I ain’t ta be blessed with rest no more, nor ferever ‘sfar as ah kin see.”
“You made a deal with the Devil so that you’d never die?”
“Shitchyah. Wouldn’tcha dun the same hadja been offered? Ah figgered what in tarnashin’s a souls worth nohow? Ya don’t touch it, feel it, taste it… tis just an idea rilly. An’ ah was down on me luck when ‘e found me. Came at me like some kinda Genie only without ‘da lamp. Ah was without light, without air, time was runnin’ out an I hadnta made nothin’ o’ meself mah whole miserable life. Trapped in that cave ‘longside me buddy Billy. We wuz dyin’ an’ ain’t no God be hearin’ our prayers. ‘T be HIM did answer us.”
“Go on,” Barnsworth stated, taking notes on a yellow pad, pushing up his glasses on his nose and taking a drag off his cigarette, quivering fingers betraying his nerves which he refused to otherwise show. “This is pertinent to the case I think.”
“Tha’ Lord o’ the Night approached me from the shadus. Billy’d already fallen unconscious, nearly dead s’far ‘s I cud tell. ‘E whispered in me ear, telled me ta kill me buddy an agree ta give up me soul an’ ah’d have three wishes. Ah dinna believe it was nothin’ but mah own air-starved skull makin’ shit up ta’ gimme a sense o’ unfounded hope.
“Knowin’ Billy’d be dead soon anyhow, ah agreed ta’ what I thought at the time was just mah own fantasy wraith. Liken ah said, what’s a soul anyhow? Ah took mah pick an shoved it inta his heart. Really got inta it too. Was thirsty so ah drank ‘is blood.
“Ah sat there in the darkness next ta mah dead friend for what seemed like ferever. Jus’ thinkin’ back o’er all the years we’d done prospected togethah, most of ‘em spent to no avail. Gold jus wasn’t much in our luck ta find in those days o’ sufferin’ an’ toil.
“But just as ah started noddin’ off, lo’ an’ behold, ah saw ‘im, cloaked in fire, standin’ there b’fore Billy’s corpse an’ me. Told me Ah could ask me three wishes ‘e did.
Ah’d been givin’ it some thought mind ye. All that time in tha dark’d done me some good for preparin’ just in case Ah hadn’t been goin’ right loony.” The Prospector couldn’t suppress a dark chuckle.
“What did you ask for?” the officer asked, swallowing. His mouth had gone dry and pasty.
“On me first wish, ah asked ta not allow me ta pass inta the icy grip o’ death. Ah dinna realize how literal the demon’d take me words. An, e’s kept ‘is promise e’er since as ye kin see. Ah figgered ‘ed just release us from the caved in grave our own work’d built fer ourselves. Dinna quite work out like that.
“On me second wish, ah begged death not ta take mah buddy Billy from me. Dinna wanna wish ‘im alive. Ah figgered that’d make somethin’ messed up of ‘im. Mah wish still did ye see. But at least the Devil let ‘is body lay where it lie. F’rever after, ah’ve found I kin call me Billy to me side where’er it be as dark as it were where ‘e died.
“Tha Dark One pressed me for a third wish before ‘ed grant me any o’em. An since ah’d had such frustratins wit’ mah minin’ life, ah figgered ah’d ask fer it ter be made easier. Ah asked ‘im ta grant me the ability to see where all things o’ worth that be hidden lay, an’ to always have the means to get it.”
“What became of that wish,” Barnsworth asked, his face showing his struggle to believe a word he was hearing, perhaps if nothing else, than to remain in denial of the supernatural being so upfront and in his face in this solitary room. Overhead, the single long fluorescent bulb flickered.
“’E gave me mah pick. Enchanted it so’s it kin ne’er be taken from me, so’s it kin ne’er be destroyed, so’s it kin always get me through ta’ whate’er value ah need ta’ get at. ‘Course the wily bastahd tricked me so’s now anytime Ah touch any precious metals such’s gold ‘n silver, they vanish and go ta him. But ah still feel sick without reachin’ out for it wher’n ah see the stuff. So ah been nothin’ if ain’t been used.”
“That’s quite a story, Mr. Prospector,” Barnsworth leaned forward, admitting, yet with disregard emerging in his tone. “But there’s a hole in your tale.”
“Yeah? What be that?” The Prospector asked, a big bushy white eyebrow arching in an almost caricaturist exaggeration.
“We have your ‘pick’ in our evidence vault. You said it couldn’t be taken from you. Yet you don’t hold it now, do you?” It was not a question but a statement.
“See, now that’s where yer mistaken mistah officah o’ tha law,” the Prospector smiled demonically as a snap under his chair released obvious pressure that had been pulling at the old man’s shoulders.
Barnsworth gasped. Sternheim drew a pistol from his belt. Chief Garmen swung his hand to plunge an emergency siren button on the wall behind him.
And the Prospector leapt up, swinging his pick from his feet upwards, sending the table into the light overhead, shattering the bulb in a spray of sparks and knocking back Lieutenant Barnsworth from under the chin, who stumbled back into the mirror behind him.
In the red haze of the emergency light behind him, Sternheim could see a spider-web of cracks snake out from Barnsworth’s backside. “SHIT!” he exclaimed.
_________________
      
 CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...  
Last edited by Thunderbird on Sun Sep 11, 2011 12:14 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2011 7:03 am Post subject: |
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Some details to consider for the DP:
The Bouncer is held in the solitary containment room and has not currently been disturbing anyone, has not awakened and is still cocooned. You have a door to your left that would take you into the hall and from there could take you to the doorway that the Prospector could come through, to a doorway further down where Solitary confinement is located, (further in is just the bars and cell blocks) and down the other way leads back into the booking station, police offices, and eventual exit. There's an exit at the end of the other side of the hall too but there's bars between.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2011 5:18 pm Post subject: |
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Loved the chapter TB! Especially the part where the prospector is telling about his and Billy's deaths (or non-death in his case I guess  ) Good to have some background history on these other tainted, besides the Bouncer, and hopefully we might get to find out more about the other two as well. But the meeting between Tyrone and Lucky was brilliant too, and certainly made me wonder all the more who Lucky actually is.
For the dp, despite the fact that he cannot be killed, the Prospector was knocked unconscious in the chapter 17(?) I believe, and that's how they captured him. So he's not invulnerable to damage by human means. I think surely Sternheim, this other officer, and Cape should be able to take him on. He is alone after all, and the tainted only seem undefeatable when they're all working together. Try and knock him out again, and take him and the Bouncer to a secure place.
Or, allow him to enter the solitary confinement room with the Bouncer, and then lock him in (and attempt to keep him locked up), whilst Sternheim contacts Thomas to get him to get there as soon as possible, to use one of his gifts on the Prospector, hopefully making him more manageable.
Great chappie, as always, TB! Here's looking forward to the next one! 
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 7:41 am Post subject: |
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Thanks for being one of the few to keep up with the tale so far Tika! Perhaps I should really work on keeping these chapters a bit shorter huh? That was a little tough trying to work in the Bouncer meets Lucky scene.
So yeah... again... Thanks for reading!
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 5:46 am Post subject: |
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I enjoyed the stories of the Prospector (good dialect) and the Bouncer-- they were entertaining because they were told as narrative. The telephone conversation between Sternheim and the other officer, however, wasnt done as skilfully. It was a bit of a bore and I had to skip it. Work on this section I just mentioned, is my feeling.
As for the DP, can I ask what emergency measures there are? It seems that the Prospector cant really move from the room hes in except through one door. Keep vigilance on that door and ambush him if he comes out.
On the other hand, something tells me that the Prospector wouldnt have lashed out unless there was an operation to break him out in concert with his attack. Thus I think Sternheim better investigate the rest of the police station and safeguard any weakspots while the other cop and his men watch the interrogation room. Visibility is a key-- hopefully the emergency lights will show us what the Prospector is up to.
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 Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 7:58 am Post subject: |
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Thanks D!
| Quote: | | The telephone conversation between Sternheim and the other officer, however, wasnt done as skilfully. It was a bit of a bore and I had to skip it. Work on this section I just mentioned, is my feeling. |
I've read it through a number of times. I'm wondering if I'm just going about it the wrong way here somehow? I mean, I think I get what you're saying. And perhaps it comes across that way in part because the discussion hints at a lot of information they are both privy to but the reader is not yet. Otherwise, is there any way to point out what you felt made it 'lack'?
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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D-Lotus
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| Posted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 10:01 am Post subject: |
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| Quote: | | “I know,” the voice on the other end answered. “But we can’t let it get in the way of the program, General. They are letting him call whatever shots he wants so long as they don’t upset the projects the others have on their plate. Discussions about him have been carried out in hushed whispers among the CFR circles. |
In this paragraph, for example, Im confused about who is "it", "him", and "they". Maybe if you clarified your subjects a little itd be more interesting and easier to follow.
As it is, I got lost and didnt bother to find my way back. Should be easy to fix though.
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Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 2:11 pm Post subject: |
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Ah... that makes sense. Poor use of pronouns. I had done that so as to remain a bit more 'in character' as it would be somewhat unclear to the reader who/what they may have been referring to but not so much to the characters. Still, I can see why that came across as ultimately frustrating so I'll try to make the conversation a bit more adapted to the reader's eye there. Thanks for pointing that out!
BTW, footnote: Chief of Staff Shinseki is a real world political figure. His retirement WAS right around this time as well. Look him up online and you'll see he actually DID begin the Future Soldier program as well! (AND is a CFR member... heh heh)
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Sat Jul 09, 2011 12:19 pm Post subject: |
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| I've caught up, but haven't organised my thoughts on this one yet - will re-read and post something more inteligent on Monday.
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Sat Jul 09, 2011 8:21 pm Post subject: |
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Thanks for reading then, CF! I've been holding out a bit for you here (and Smee and Pope and Lebby...) but I've got another chapter comin' out tomorrow either way if all goes as planned (I'm still nearly a month behind on my usual schedule lol... ah well. Its been nice taking a bit of a break actualy.)
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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PopeAlessandrosXVIII
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| Posted: Sun Jul 10, 2011 4:36 am Post subject: I Think....... |
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FINALLY I readed it.......*Grins* I speel with grammar good! *Giggle*
ANYWAY! Another brilliant chapter! Love the use of real world info as well as very realistic peopleness, if that makes any sense. I'm starting to understand why the suckers calld "Lucky" now..... Damn lucky bastage! I have to wonder about Bouncer and his obsession with flesh hunting...I dont really see how it would be very successful....And that flushing sound is my mind heading for the gutter! *Giggles* Love sleep deprivation.... *Bounces* I REEEEAALLY wanna know abot his "trainee". Gives my heart a little dance to think about. So much secret and infos and and......AUGH!
DP....Are we all forgetting Billy here? Pros shattered the light! Billy be comin'! I be thinkin' that we need some lights...I know, simple way of putting it, but before takeing on the "One Man' you need to ensure that it really WILL be one man! So, lights, then some large caliber rounds to Pros's head to try and knock him out....Not sure how you're going to get some lights, but that's how it is!
Keep up the good work!
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2011 12:40 am Post subject: |
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OK although I got a little lost with the scene involving Thomas going back to get his bike, the scene with the prospector was particularly well done.
I'm not sure that putting the Prospector in with the Bouncer is a particularly good idea, that pick could actually do some damage to the cocoon. I agree with Pope on keeping the lights on, we don't want Billy adding to the confusion.
I think all the major DP alternatives have been covered...
But the one that stands out to me is to knock him out. Things are happening very quickly. As police officers still new to the idea of all this supernatural stuff, the most realistic reaction I think would be for them to do as much physical damage to the Prospector as possible, if only to knock him out for a bit. After all, he's one of the undead, so I guess laws surrounding how prisoners are treated can't necessarily be applied here.
So in short, beat the bloody hell out of him.
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2011 7:10 am Post subject: |
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Again... thanks for reading CF. Apparently, according to D and now you as well, I have some editing for clarity to work on in the General/Thomas scene. I suppose its not picking up from the end of their last chapter together quite as seemlessly as I figured it might, among some other issues with the dialogue and such. I believe I can understand and repair that.
With my wife going through and reading this story, I'm finding that there are a number places where I wonder if the way I tend to shift scenes without much explenation to set up the scene and just expecting the reader to 'catch on' is working just to confuse. She points out chapter 11 as being one very great struggle for her to follow and I can see how much of this chapter may have similar issues.
Anyhow, as for the DP, thanks for the additional poll option
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2011 10:44 am Post subject: |
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I think what doesn't help in this particular case is that you are already alternating between two plots which will ultimately come together. To pick up the thread with Thomas and the General we have to go back to Chapter 19. Here Chapter 21 has been split into 3 scenes involving 3 different sets of people.
Bouncer's life-story was ok because that's been going on throughout a number of chapters and its fairly easy to pick up on - even if there are gaps it doesn't matter because it is abstract and we know we're only being given the essential bits that matter to the plot.
Since the DP was to split up and follow their own objectives, I wonder if focusing on that weaker scene entirely from Thomas's POV might make it more distinct.
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| Posted: Wed Aug 03, 2011 5:07 pm Post subject: |
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Finally caught up on this side of the story. Loving it!
I like that Lucky is coming more into it, he was my favourite character in the other story.
I was only joking when I said to you about the Rothchild's coming up in the story, and low and behold there they are.
I didn't have any trouble following along with the dialogue, as others have mentioned. This now has me questioning my own understanding of it, so I may have to go back and read it again.
Don't have anything for ya in the DP area yet. I'll have to get back to that.
| Quote: | | “That’s the finest Kashmir! |
Is "Kashmir" fake Cashmere, like "krab" is fake crab?
| Quote: | | “We aughta split up,” |
This is just a couple of errors I noticed. You will find the rest on the hard copy. (Ima gonna need a new highlighter) 
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| Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2011 11:48 am Post subject: |
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Ok, well I will get in just before you put up your poll.
There is really no point in trying to capture the Prospector. They can't hold him, this incident has proven that. Yeah the police can get their rocks off beating him up some, but it will mean nothing in the long run.
Sternheim would probably welcome Billy coming back into the throng of things, it will show the police that they are not equipped to handle prisoners such as these.
So my suggestion is....Sterheim will let the Prospector and possibly Billy wreak havoc on the police station, this will cause the distraction that is needed for him to sneak the Bouncer out to the Helicopter.
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| Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 11:13 am Post subject: |
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Ok, almost caught up! One more chapter and I'm up to date. This chapter was really good. I like the prospector's back story and it was really dramatic the way he made it clear that he did still have his pick! The poll is closed, it seems, so I guess I'll have to wait for later to participate. I'm concerned about Billy coming into the picture with the lights out, and I think letting the prospector get to the Bouncer would be a bad idea. If he comes out of his trance, he would be very difficult to handle with the prospector's help.
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Last edited by Lebrenth on Sat Sep 24, 2011 7:12 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 1:42 pm Post subject: |
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Thanks for reading Lebby! I've got the next chapter in this string hopefully coming up later today. I needed all week to meditate on and consider the next chapter based on the poll results which is why I closed it early... last time I forgot to close it and the results changed by the time I posted the chapter so I didn't want to engender the same frustration this time.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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| How will Sternheim react to the Prospector's violent escape effort? |
| Try and knock him out again, and take him and the Bouncer to a secure place. |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Allow him to enter the solitary confinement room with the Bouncer, and then lock him in, whilst Sternheim contacts Thomas to get him to get there as soon as possible, to use one of his gifts on the Prospector. |
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25% |
[ 1 ] |
| It seems that the Prospector cant really move from the room hes in except through one door. Keep vigilance on that door and ambush him if he comes out. |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Sternheim better investigate the rest of the police station and safeguard any weakspots while the other cop and his men watch the interrogation room. |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Do whatever is necessary to keep the room lit (top priority) as we put some large caliber rounds in Prospector's head to knock him out. |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Full on assault - beat the bloody hell out of him. |
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25% |
[ 1 ] |
| Let the Prospector (and possibly Billy) wreak havoc on the police station so as to cause the distraction that is needed to sneak the Bouncer out to the Helicopter. |
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25% |
[ 1 ] |
| Run like hell! |
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0% |
[ 0 ] |
| Author Vote |
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25% |
[ 1 ] |
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| Total Votes : 4 |
| Who Voted: Muaddib, PopeAlessandrosXVIII, Thunderbird, Tikanni Corazon |
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