Miracles do happen; I wasn't sure I'd ever get around to writing any of the story for which all that at the top of the thread is background. And I have altered my copy of the "Historical Overview" to reflect the points you all raised. Thanks.
Whether my story fragment is any good, of course, is another matter.
Edit: after originally posting this, I realized there were several improvements I wanted to make. So if you read it before noon on the 30th, it's changed since then.
You can tell the Senator were very grateful for his cooperation, Oliver MacMaine said smoothly.
The woman seated across from him made no response to the meaningless courtesy. They both knew what wouldve happened if Senator Chandis hadnt cooperated with PrimaTech. Valerie Eppens had been Chandis aide for twenty-four years; shed have wound up in the cell right next to his when that evidence came out. If neither of them suffered a tragic fatal accident. That was more likely; too many of the Senators esteemed colleagues wouldve been worried about what he or Valerie might reveal in a bid for lighter sentences.
It was good of you to take me to the diriport so late at night, Valerie offered at last. She was fashionably blonde, and thanks to the best surgeons looked to be in her early thirties, except for the bitter eyes. Her figure still drew admiring glances again, a tribute to her doctors. She was the very picture of a successful Philly bureaucrat, top of the heap in the nations capital.
MacMaine chuckled. He didnt look at all like the stereotypes of a corporation executive. Neither grossly fat nor a lean young shark, he dressed more casually almost sloppily than the corp-rats who still felt they had something to prove or an image to maintain. Everything about him was bland and forgettable, except for his eyes, the eyes of a man whod have no qualms about selling small children into slavery. Valerie Eppens wondered idly if hed ever done that.
Its no trouble, he said now. I was going to head out this way at any rate, visiting my kept woman. He flickered a grin at the archaic phrase.
She knows youre coming? Valerie asked, not really interested; just making conversation.
Oh, of course. She needs to send her children elsewhere for the night whenever I decide to drop by.
Married?
He nodded, chuckling again. Her husbands gallantly serving our great nation and the spread of freedom in Costa Rica. He and the Senators aide both ignored the driver and the guards sitting beside them, scanning the road ahead and to the sides. The hirelings knew to keep their mouths shut about his business, or they could wind up gallantly serving.
Valerie sneered. Anyone whod put on a uniform and get shot at for his country was a fool who deserved to have his wife putting out for smarter, wealthier, better-connected men. Although she didnt suppose the wife agreed; fools tended to marry fools. But the woman clearly knew that to support herself and her children, she needed more money than the pittance her husband was paid.
***
The shadows were deeper than they shouldve been under two of the parked cars ahead on their right, but the guards didnt notice. By that time, it was too late anyway.
Watching the oncoming limousine, the team leader opened his freq. Magnafire?
Ready. As the word came back, the leader saw the van one hundred fifty-seven meters down the other side of the street rock slightly. Careless, he thought; youll give away your position. Now wasnt the time to mention it, but hed have a word with the other soldier in private later.
Strafe?
On, came the voice from the rooftops, clipped and velvety at the same time.
He hesitated. The joker in the deck. Jackknife? he asked, hoping to get no response.
Ready, came the Massachusetts accent of the Marine who had not repeat NOT been assigned to this hit. Panzerblitz, the team leader, wouldve winced, but they were running out of time.
Bodycount, he spoke the call sign of the last soldier.
Passing me now, replied a Texas drawl. Bodycounts voicemask copied an actor from the days when there was only one United States of America, and Texas was part of it.
Panzerblitz made a final adjustment to position and sight picture, took up trigger slack. Smoke em if youve got em, he breathed into the mike, and squeezed the last little bit.
His first shot and Strafes were fired at the same instant. Traveling at the speed of light, hers hit first. The laser itself didnt do all that much damage, but the manmade lightning that raced down the beam fried the limos communications, and most of the vehicles other systems as well. Even if nothing else went as planned, no one would call for help on the cars phone.
Panzerblitzs Enfield flechette rifle flung a finned osmiridium needle at eight and a half times the speed of sound. He fired twice more so rapidly that the shots mightve sounded like full auto. His aim was precise as usual; all three shots drilled into the cars engine block, shattering it. The vehicle lost speed in a hurry.
Bodycount, firing from behind the limousine, also fired three flechettes, punching the rear window, taking a bit more time between shots. His shoulder wouldnt ache quite so much tomorrow as Panzerblitzs. The first crazed the armorglass as it passed through, the second started a web of spreading cracks, and the third actually caused some shards to break free. He thumbed the selector, switching his trigger to the grenade revolver.
Directly across the street from Bodycounts hide position, the vans rear doors swung open and Magnafire took aim. If anything had gone wrong with Bodycounts shooting, the heavy weapons trooper wouldve shot out the rear window with a burst of ramjet bullets from his light machine gun. As it was, Magnafire instead triggered the Metal Storm Personal Cannon attached beneath the LMG. With an oddly hollow noise, it hurled a fat projectile at and through the remnants of the rear window. The twin bursting charges were inaudible from outside the limousine, spreading the binary ultra-high explosive. The igniter charge might have been audible if its sound hadnt been lost in the fuel-air explosive detonation. All the limos windows, except the more-heavily-reinforced windshield, blew out.
Panzerblitz was out from beneath his hide car, running toward the now-halted limousine, ready to fire again. Bodycount, too, had scrambled out of concealment and ran forward. Their chammies, chameleon camouflage uniforms, made them little more than shadows, even under the single working streetlight.
The flicker of motion that came away from a wall near Magnafires van was less than that. Effectively invisible if moving slowly or not at all, Jackknifes spooksuit made the Force Recon loose cannon an ultratech ninja even at a dead run. He darted to the limos side and yanked open a door. Reaching in, Jackknife grabbed Valerie Eppens by the scorched ruins of her coiffure and pulled her out into the street. A double-edged blade of monomolecular glass glinted briefly as he thrust it up under her chin and twisted, To stir the brains, as hed once explained.
Jesus God, Jackknife, came Strafes voice from on high.
Panzerblitz grimaced. His family was still devoutly religious, although they kept quiet about it to avoid trouble with the neighbors. His parents had told him more than once that the evil some men and women had done in Gods name didnt justify the way so many since had turned away from God completely. Strafes profanity troubled him more than Jackknifes action did; not merely the blasphemy, but that to her it was nothing more than a way to verbalize shock and disgust.
Jackknife is right, Strafe, he forced himself to say. He, too, pulled open a door of the limousine. Oliver MacMaine toppled out, staring sightlessly up toward the distant Sears Tower. Panzerblitz bent, drawing the large knife strapped to his right boot, to cut the corp-rats throat. You cant count an enemy dead until youve stepped on the body, he added, his cultured English tenor from a time when the language of England hadnt been French jarring in his own ears.
-----
Big Brother is watching you. And damn, you are so bloody BORING.
Whether my story fragment is any good, of course, is another matter.
Edit: after originally posting this, I realized there were several improvements I wanted to make. So if you read it before noon on the 30th, it's changed since then.
You can tell the Senator were very grateful for his cooperation, Oliver MacMaine said smoothly.
The woman seated across from him made no response to the meaningless courtesy. They both knew what wouldve happened if Senator Chandis hadnt cooperated with PrimaTech. Valerie Eppens had been Chandis aide for twenty-four years; shed have wound up in the cell right next to his when that evidence came out. If neither of them suffered a tragic fatal accident. That was more likely; too many of the Senators esteemed colleagues wouldve been worried about what he or Valerie might reveal in a bid for lighter sentences.
It was good of you to take me to the diriport so late at night, Valerie offered at last. She was fashionably blonde, and thanks to the best surgeons looked to be in her early thirties, except for the bitter eyes. Her figure still drew admiring glances again, a tribute to her doctors. She was the very picture of a successful Philly bureaucrat, top of the heap in the nations capital.
MacMaine chuckled. He didnt look at all like the stereotypes of a corporation executive. Neither grossly fat nor a lean young shark, he dressed more casually almost sloppily than the corp-rats who still felt they had something to prove or an image to maintain. Everything about him was bland and forgettable, except for his eyes, the eyes of a man whod have no qualms about selling small children into slavery. Valerie Eppens wondered idly if hed ever done that.
Its no trouble, he said now. I was going to head out this way at any rate, visiting my kept woman. He flickered a grin at the archaic phrase.
She knows youre coming? Valerie asked, not really interested; just making conversation.
Oh, of course. She needs to send her children elsewhere for the night whenever I decide to drop by.
Married?
He nodded, chuckling again. Her husbands gallantly serving our great nation and the spread of freedom in Costa Rica. He and the Senators aide both ignored the driver and the guards sitting beside them, scanning the road ahead and to the sides. The hirelings knew to keep their mouths shut about his business, or they could wind up gallantly serving.
Valerie sneered. Anyone whod put on a uniform and get shot at for his country was a fool who deserved to have his wife putting out for smarter, wealthier, better-connected men. Although she didnt suppose the wife agreed; fools tended to marry fools. But the woman clearly knew that to support herself and her children, she needed more money than the pittance her husband was paid.
***
The shadows were deeper than they shouldve been under two of the parked cars ahead on their right, but the guards didnt notice. By that time, it was too late anyway.
Watching the oncoming limousine, the team leader opened his freq. Magnafire?
Ready. As the word came back, the leader saw the van one hundred fifty-seven meters down the other side of the street rock slightly. Careless, he thought; youll give away your position. Now wasnt the time to mention it, but hed have a word with the other soldier in private later.
Strafe?
On, came the voice from the rooftops, clipped and velvety at the same time.
He hesitated. The joker in the deck. Jackknife? he asked, hoping to get no response.
Ready, came the Massachusetts accent of the Marine who had not repeat NOT been assigned to this hit. Panzerblitz, the team leader, wouldve winced, but they were running out of time.
Bodycount, he spoke the call sign of the last soldier.
Passing me now, replied a Texas drawl. Bodycounts voicemask copied an actor from the days when there was only one United States of America, and Texas was part of it.
Panzerblitz made a final adjustment to position and sight picture, took up trigger slack. Smoke em if youve got em, he breathed into the mike, and squeezed the last little bit.
His first shot and Strafes were fired at the same instant. Traveling at the speed of light, hers hit first. The laser itself didnt do all that much damage, but the manmade lightning that raced down the beam fried the limos communications, and most of the vehicles other systems as well. Even if nothing else went as planned, no one would call for help on the cars phone.
Panzerblitzs Enfield flechette rifle flung a finned osmiridium needle at eight and a half times the speed of sound. He fired twice more so rapidly that the shots mightve sounded like full auto. His aim was precise as usual; all three shots drilled into the cars engine block, shattering it. The vehicle lost speed in a hurry.
Bodycount, firing from behind the limousine, also fired three flechettes, punching the rear window, taking a bit more time between shots. His shoulder wouldnt ache quite so much tomorrow as Panzerblitzs. The first crazed the armorglass as it passed through, the second started a web of spreading cracks, and the third actually caused some shards to break free. He thumbed the selector, switching his trigger to the grenade revolver.
Directly across the street from Bodycounts hide position, the vans rear doors swung open and Magnafire took aim. If anything had gone wrong with Bodycounts shooting, the heavy weapons trooper wouldve shot out the rear window with a burst of ramjet bullets from his light machine gun. As it was, Magnafire instead triggered the Metal Storm Personal Cannon attached beneath the LMG. With an oddly hollow noise, it hurled a fat projectile at and through the remnants of the rear window. The twin bursting charges were inaudible from outside the limousine, spreading the binary ultra-high explosive. The igniter charge might have been audible if its sound hadnt been lost in the fuel-air explosive detonation. All the limos windows, except the more-heavily-reinforced windshield, blew out.
Panzerblitz was out from beneath his hide car, running toward the now-halted limousine, ready to fire again. Bodycount, too, had scrambled out of concealment and ran forward. Their chammies, chameleon camouflage uniforms, made them little more than shadows, even under the single working streetlight.
The flicker of motion that came away from a wall near Magnafires van was less than that. Effectively invisible if moving slowly or not at all, Jackknifes spooksuit made the Force Recon loose cannon an ultratech ninja even at a dead run. He darted to the limos side and yanked open a door. Reaching in, Jackknife grabbed Valerie Eppens by the scorched ruins of her coiffure and pulled her out into the street. A double-edged blade of monomolecular glass glinted briefly as he thrust it up under her chin and twisted, To stir the brains, as hed once explained.
Jesus God, Jackknife, came Strafes voice from on high.
Panzerblitz grimaced. His family was still devoutly religious, although they kept quiet about it to avoid trouble with the neighbors. His parents had told him more than once that the evil some men and women had done in Gods name didnt justify the way so many since had turned away from God completely. Strafes profanity troubled him more than Jackknifes action did; not merely the blasphemy, but that to her it was nothing more than a way to verbalize shock and disgust.
Jackknife is right, Strafe, he forced himself to say. He, too, pulled open a door of the limousine. Oliver MacMaine toppled out, staring sightlessly up toward the distant Sears Tower. Panzerblitz bent, drawing the large knife strapped to his right boot, to cut the corp-rats throat. You cant count an enemy dead until youve stepped on the body, he added, his cultured English tenor from a time when the language of England hadnt been French jarring in his own ears.
-----
Big Brother is watching you. And damn, you are so bloody BORING.