|Literature Books - What are you reading or writing? Share what you have also!|
| ||Thread Tools|
|01-07-2012, 03:26 PM||#22 (permalink)|
Got my story done:
O'Conners and the breach squad
I throw my duffel bag into the back of my SUV and jump into the drivers seat. I turn the key and the SUV comes to life. I slowly pull out of my driveway and head towards downtown. It’s 6:30am and there is already a fair bit of traffic but not enough to slow my daily drive to work down. I pull into the underground parking garage after showing my ID to the man at the gate. I grab my duffel bag and walk towards the doors to enter my place of work. As I’m walking to the door I hear footsteps come rushing up to me from behind. I turn around to see my friend come up behind me.
“How have you been O’Conners?” My friend asks.
“Pretty good, but the weekend was boring. How ‘bout you Wayfield?”
“Good good, can’t complain to much”
We walk quickly towards the doors without saying a word. We scan our ID over the machine and I hear the automatic door unlock with a click. I push open the door open to reveal a room that looks a lot like airport security, it had a bag scanner and a full body scanner in the center of the room. When we enter an old security guard stands and motions for us to put our bags into the scanner and for Wayfield to step through the body scanner. He steps through without a problem and I follow behind with out any problems. We grab our bags and head through another set of doors into the main area. The main area had an open weight room and a big table with chairs around it. This was where I go five days a week as part of SWAT team. I check my watch; 6:58. I still have two minutes before I was on clock.
“Yo Wayfield, wanna hear a joke?” I ask.
“Sure, as long as it’s not dumb like all your others” he responds and flashes a quick smile.
“A Priest, a Rabbi, and Santa Claus walk into a bar.” I begin but only to be interrupted by Sarg.
“No time for jokes O’Conners, we have a call” Sarg quickly says while walking to the locker room.
“I’m not on the clock yet” I protest but I follow him to the lockers with Wayfield on my heels.
I spin the lock on my locker and it opens with a smooth click. I swing open the open my over sized locker door revealing all my tac gear. I put on my standard issued grey BDU’s and strap on my vest. I stuff my pockets with all the necessary gear. I grab my helmet and I head to my favorite room in the building, the weapons room. I unlock my weapons locker and grab my sidearm and my rifle that has been customized to my likings. I walk to the trucks beside Wayfield. He jumps into the driver’s seat and I sit in the passenger seat. While we wait for the other 5 guys to get ready I pull out my smart phone to read the missions briefing. We are headed to a bank robbery; the robbers have hostages but have yet to make demands. The robbers are 3 masked men armed with semi-automatic pistols. This doesn’t sound like a hard call to do. The rest of our members pile into the two trucks. We follow Sargs truck out of the parking lot with our sirens blaring and lights spinning.
We get to the bank in 10 minutes, not bad considering the traffic. We get out and approach the head cop. He gives us the brief run down of what is happening, nothing we don’t already know. We get into the command van and Tech sits down and pulls up the layout of the bank. Tech is the computer savvy one of the bunch, he can hack but is also can hold is own on a mission. Bruiser, the biggest guy on our team looks at the drawings and starts thinking of ways to breach the bank. Delta, the only female on our team also has the best shot and is the sniper on our team so she is looking for a good vantage point to provide support to Bruiser, Wayfield, Copper, Tech and myself. The five of us are the breaching team.
“Alright guys” he pauses and shoots a glance at Delta and says: “and girl”
“There is only one way to enter this building” he continues “and that is from the front”
The breaching team heads to the supply truck while Delta goes to set up her position. We all grab riot shields and sub machine guns. We all trade are mags out for the smaller caliber sub machine gun mags.
“Okay guys” Bruiser starts “We go in single file with me the front with my shield forward while you guys protect your sides with your shields”
We all nod.
“Sarge is going to fire in a flash bang ‘nade followed by a bunch of tear gas”
We all nod again and grab the gas masks.
“Tech protects the hostages, I will go for the guy on the right, O’Conners and Wayfield go for the one in the middle while Copper gets the one on the left.”
We all start to get ready.
“Couple more things guys, move predictably, Delta is watching. And, first sign of trouble take them down, he are going in hot”.
We all line up and get ready for the breach. I click off my safety and wait for Sarges signal. He gives us a nod and we start going, seconds later he fires off a flash bang out of the 6 round grenade launcher. It goes off with a bang and stuns the robbers. Sarg follows up with 5 canisters of tear gas. The robbers drop to the floor coughing and drop their guns. Tech ushers the hostages out and into police safety while Bruiser slams his shield into the first robber because he tired to get up. Bruiser then kicks him in the ribs and pins him down to handcuff him. While this is happening Copper takes down his man without a problem. Wayfield and I chase down the last robber who is sprinting for the bank vault. He gets to the bank vault that is also a dead-end. I take all my momentum and slam into him with my shield, he drops to the ground gasping for air.
After handing the robbers over to the police we head back to base. At base, we all shower and get cleaned up and begin to dread the painful process of de-briefing. We enter the conference room and take a seatt and open the folders that sit at our spots. We all start filling them out when Sarg walks into the room.
“Good work guys, all men taken down with no injuries” He says.
“Does that mean we get out of all this paperwork?” Tech asks with a grin.
“Actually, yes.” Sarg says.
We all scramble out of the room before Sarg changes his mind.
“O’Conners” Sarg says.
I stop and wait for the dreaded words that are to come.
I turn and walk towards Sarg
“What did I do wrong, chief?” I ask.
“Nothing, I just want to hear that joke you were going to tell Wayfield”
“What joke?” I say as a flash a smile and walk away.
|01-10-2012, 08:35 PM||#24 (permalink)|
that escalated quickly
Join Date: Aug 2009
I did like the way you mention the topic into your story and the ending. I also did like the your first person writing style. That is also how mine is written.
|01-11-2012, 01:18 PM||#25 (permalink)|
on temporary hiatus
Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: Columbia/Jeff City, MO
Time crunch at work, have got about 1K or less worth so far in just the opening bit, hope to get back onto it next week. Not a huge piece, should get it at least over the half before the end of the month.
Want to improve your game? The best thing to buy is more paint and more field fees.
I can't dumb it down to your level because I'm scared of heights.
A shark is an animal that dies if it stops moving.
|01-18-2012, 10:59 PM||#26 (permalink)|
Thompson, Joey, and Roger were standing outside of the bar.
The were dressed as a Priest, a Rabbi and Santa, respectively.
This was going to be a ****ty Christmas party.
As if they had all collectively sensed it no one had made any effort to actually enter the bar.
Roger was wondering how he had gotten to this point of time in his life. Back in High School he had written, ‘Keep in Touch’ in Joey and Thompson’s yearbooks. Who could have guessed that either of them actually would?
If only someone like Amanda Burgas had kept in touch instead. Though according to Joey she was now a crack whore living on the streets of Los Angeles. You really couldn’t trust anything Joey said. A more likely scenario was that she was now happily married with three kids in Vacaville. Either way it was a deal breaker.
Especially the Vacaville part.
Thompson pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He took a long drag and looked up to find Roger and Joey both staring at him. Neither of them were quiet sure when Thompson had picked up the habit.
“What? If we’re just going to be standing around anyway.”
Back in High School Thompson hadn’t been the brightest crayon in the box. He hadn’t gotten good grades and was pretty socially oblivious. That obviously hadn’t changed about him. Here he was dressed like a priest to a Christmas party because he was trying to get double use out of his Halloween costume. Roger wouldn’t be surprised if next Halloween Thompson would be asking to borrow his Santa suit.
Thompson hadn’t gone to college. Instead he joined the Air Force. He was stationed in Las Vegas. He recently bought a three bedroom house. In seven more years he could retire. Oddly enough...he was doing the best out of all of them.
Then again, Joey had just started at law school. And he was just duchebaggy enough that he could be great at it.
And that...just left Roger.
“I get why Thompson is dressed like a Priest,” said Roger to Joey. “But why are you dressed like a Rabbi?”
Joey looked down at his clothes and back up at him. “I am being ironic.”
“But you’re really Jewish.”
It was amazing that all of Joey’s ancestors of Hanukkah's past didn’t rise up to smack him upside his head.
Roger sighed. “I really didn’t want to end up as a bad joke tonight.”
“What you do mean a bad joke?” asked Thompson around his cigarette.
“You know,” said Roger, “‘a Priest, a Rabbi and Santa walk into a bar’.”
Thompson thought about that for a moment. “I’ve never heard that one. What’s the punch line?”
“It doesn’t have a punch line,” Roger replied. “It was a generalization.”
Joey snapped his fingers. “I got it. A Priest, a Rabbi and Santa walk into a bar--ouch.”
Both Roger and Thompson grimaced at that one.
“Who picked this bar?” asked Roger motioning with his chin. ”It has damn umlauts in it’s name.”
The bar was called Atmosfär. And apparently tonight it was both half off tequila shots and Karaoke night. That seemed like a painfully bad combination.
Roger gave an inward groan as he figured out his own question. “Mya picked this bar. Dammit. I hate you, Joey.”
Thompson gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.
Joey shrugged. “Haters goin’ hate.”
Roger should have been mad at him, but he just couldn’t work up the energy for it. This was an old argument and Roger was losing his edge just from the sheer longevity from it. Honestly, what did he expect from Joey anyway?
Thompson tilted his head slightly as he took in the bar. “Maybe it’s just it’s name, but it looks like an Ikea.”
Joey and Roger tilted their heads accordingly.
The bar was painted a pale yellow with a blue awning.
“It does seem to have a Swedish flare to it,” admitted Roger.
“I hope they have meatballs,” said Joey. “I love me some meatballs.”
Roger and Thompson both snickered at that.
Joey attempted to look stern and unamused. It was a little hard to take him seriously while he was dressed up like a Rabbi.
He finally gave a resigned sigh. “I guess I walked into that one.”
“Yeah,” replied Roger. “Like your bar joke.”
“You said ‘balls’” replied Thompson.
The door to Atmosfär opened. A rush of loud chatter and a horrible rendition of ‘Living on a Prayer’ flooded out onto the sidewalk.
And a woman--the woman walked out.
Joey’s great love. Roger’s great headache. And the source of years of entertainment for Thompson.
As Mya sauntered towards them, Roger wondered why were people always so determined to treat old classmates as if they had never left High School? All you had to do was take one look at Mya and you would know that people really do change.
Roger remembered Mya as a too skinny, too chatty girl who was way too dependant on other people to pull off the free spirited impression she was trying to give off.
Now here she was her filled out curves being hugged by some slutty Santa’s Helper outfit with four inch red f***-me high heels. The way that she was teetering in them only proved it really was half off tequila shot night.
“Hello, boys!” she said with a smile. “How long are you going to be standing around out here?”
“Thompson had to finish his cigarette,” replied Joey smoothly.
“But it’s cold out here.” Mya rubbed her arms as if that emphasized her point.
“Why do girls wear next to nothing and then insist on complaining that it’s cold?” asked Roger.
“Maybe we like to make an impression,” said Mya coyly.
Roger tried to ignore her tone.
Joey smiled at Mya and started to take off his jacket for her. “Here. Just while we’re out here.”
“But it won’t match my outfit,” Mya replied as she not to subtlety looked Roger up and down.
“Jesus,” muttered Roger.
Thompson, in his Priest outfit, waved a scolding finger at Roger. “Tut, tut.”
Roger shot him a look. “What? Are you in character now?”
Thompson just grinned with his cigarette still hanging from lip.
“So, what have you boys been up to?” asked Mya casually.
“I just got into law school,” jumped in Joey.
Mya glanced at him. “Yeah? You’re just duschbaggy enough for that to work.”
“Thanks,” Joey replied with a smile.
Thompson rolled his eyes and maybe Roger would have too if he hadn’t been so stunned that Mya had pretty much said word for word what he had been thinking.
“What about you, Thompson?” asked Mya.
“Air Force,” said Thompson simply.
“And Roger, what have you been up to?”
Ah, yes. Here it was. The moment Roger had been dreading all night.
Back in High School, Roger had been an actor, a journalist, a minor athlete and an Honors English student. He wasn’t any of those things anymore. Funny how the real world doesn’t give a **** about any of that.
Roger shrugged. “Not much.”
“Cool,” replied Mya.
It really wasn’t.
The door to the bar opened again. This time it sounded like a whole Sorority was belting out ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ to the tune of too many tequila shots.
That wasn’t all that surprising, what was surprising was who walked out of the bar.
“That...is Amanda Burgas,” said Thompson. “She looks pretty good for a crack whore.”
Amanda looked pretty good period.
She was wearing boots, leggings, a little sweater dress and a Santa hat. She looked good. She looked like herself.
“Mya! What are you doing out here?” called Amanda. She then took in the whole group with one glance and smiled. “You guys do realize this is a Christmas party right?”
“Hey, Santa celebrates Christmas,” replied Roger.
“Priests celebrate Christmas,” followed up Thompson.
Everyone turned to look at Joey.
Joey just shrugged. “My family always celebrates Christmas.”
“You really are the worst Jew ever,” summed up Thompson.
Joey shoved him and Thompson shoved him back. It escalated slightly from there. Roger wasn’t sure what Joey thought he was going to accomplish. Thompson wasn’t a big guy, but the Air Force had taught him enough to fend off one skinny, Jewish law student.
No telling what the people driving by thought of the whole situation.
“So,” said Roger for lack of anything better to say. “How’ve you been, Amanda?”
Amanda shrugged. “Living at home with my parents, watching daytime TV and wondering if ‘yes’ I could become a dental assistant like the commercials say I can.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I heard you were a crack whore or married with three kids in Vacaville.”
“God,” replied Amanda a little stunned. “Vacaville, really?”
Roger laughed. He stole a glance at Thompson and Joey.
They had stopped fighting long enough for Thompson to light up another cigarette and Joey had managed to wrangle Mya into his coat. He seemed to be interpreting that as a win, but Mya appeared to be more interested in asking if Thompson had killed anyone.
“I got into a bar fight once...”
Roger looked back at Amanda. She had her arms folded across her chest and seemed to be looking everywhere except at him. When their eyes finally met she gave him a smile.
“So...how’ve you been, Roger?”
“Good,” repeated Amanda as she rubbed her arms absently.
Roger knew he should offer her his coat. He should just take it off and put it around her shoulders. It would be easy. It should be that easy--
“Hey, Mya,” called Amanda breaking up Mya’s interrogation of Thompson. “I am going to head back in. It’s freezing out here.”
“Okay, girl,” replied Mya. “You know we’re belting out some Britney later.”
Amanda laughed. “Let me down a few more shots first.”
“Done and done,” grinned Mya. “I’ll be in in a sec.”
Roger wasn’t even aware that he was watching Amanda walk back into the bar until Mya slid up next to him. She linked her around his own and pressed herself against him.
Which made what she said all the more surprising.
“You really should go after her.”
Roger did a double take. “What?”
“You heard me, Santa.”
“I am not sure I did.”
Mya rolled her eyes. “You know, Roger. Out of all of the people you kept in touch with, you chose those guys?”
They both looked back at Thompson and Joey. They were currently arguing over which Britney Spears song was the best. Thompson was sticking with the classic, “Hit Me Baby One More Time” and Joey was making a case for “If You Seek Amy”. The argument was probably going to end with another shoving match.
Roger shrugged. “I could do worst.”
“Hey, law school,” called Mya as she detached herself from Roger and headed back towards the bar. “I am taking your coat.”
“Oh,” said Joey a little dumbfounded. “Okay.”
Thompson elbowed him in the ribs. “She means you should follow her.”
Joey hurried to catch up to Mya. He opened the door for her. It sounded like the girls were putting the finishing touches on ‘Sweet Home Alabama’. In their defense, who really knew how the end verse went?
Mya smiled at him. “If You Seek Amy’, really?”
“I like word play.”
Mya looked back at Roger. “You’re a good friend. And you should go after Amanda.”
“Dating advice from Mya Reyes,” replied Roger. “Go figure.”
“Don’t knock it,” Mya said with a grin. “We can all use a little advice.”
“Amen,” replied Thompson as if on cue. “Go in peace, my children.”
And with Thompson’s blessing the door closed behind the two of them.
Roger turned and was surprised to see Thompson stomping out his cigarette.
“You going in the bar?”
“Hell, yeah. A whole group of girls singing, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’? It’s like shooting fish in a barrel.” Thompson paused to look at Roger. “What are you going to do?”
That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?
Roger smiled. “Who am I to break up a bad punch line?”
Pirate Intimidator and the Most Comfortable Gun Ever
Dukie Lever Gun and now Smiley-ized
For sale: K-framed Mad Pistol and more, need to sell!
Last edited by dundadun; 01-19-2012 at 03:01 AM.
|01-23-2012, 04:16 PM||#27 (permalink)|
that escalated quickly
Join Date: Aug 2009
Well I finished my story this weekend. I'm pleased with how it came out. I am not sure if I should post it here in a post or do a link-it is pretty long.
Right now I'm going to go back over it and do a little editing. I'm sure my grammar and sentence structure is not what it used to be. I will probably post it in the next day or two.
How is everyone else coming along?
|01-23-2012, 04:52 PM||#29 (permalink)|
that escalated quickly
Join Date: Aug 2009
|01-26-2012, 05:51 PM||#30 (permalink)|
that escalated quickly
Join Date: Aug 2009
Here is mine... vvv