Someone has made the elder sign of Megiddo and has awakened Part Six! You fools! You’ve made the prophesy come true!
The Story So Far…
Ludicrous things happened! Tam chased Trisha off of the roof, but Trisha has disappeared, leaving a few fun stickers and a lot of questions. Unbeknownst to Amy, Angela, Barbara, Tam, and a couple of pigeons on the rooftops, the gun sticker was scratch-and-sniff. This lack of awareness would have enraged Trisha were she not already far away from the location. She likes it when people notice the tiny details of her mad rampages.
At that same moment, Lyal had trapped Katrina and Stuart in a warehouse. A short conversation ensued, ending the way of most conversations: with a gun pointing at someone.
After the whole kerfuffle died down, Tru finally got to inspect Amy’s leg, yell at her, and be very rude to David all at once. She can multitask! Robyn left a mysterious something for Amy. What is it? Write your congressperson as ask!
And now for the thrilling continuation of The Rabbit’s Last Stand!
Disposable Fiction – The Rabbit’s Last Stand: Part Six – Mouths Agape!
“Does he really need to debrief us?” Bobo asked.
Chris shrugged. “Apparently.”
“Well we were held hostage and almost killed, thanks to ‘boss of the year’ over there.” Chris said, nodding at Moose.
“Shut up,” Moose helpfully suggested from under his desk.
“The chief is almost here,” Chris said. “Could you at least get up off the floor?”
“Why?” Moose asked. “Do you think sound can’t travel down?”
“Because it’s a sign of… oh, never mind.” Chris swivelled in his char.
Bobo stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I wonder why that guy broke in to find out more information about The Rabbit. We don’t have that much on her.”
“Don’t we?” Chris asked. “We have all of her old haunts, her old caches, some of her rumored colleagues. Also information about her cohort Stuart. There’s some good stuff in there.”
“I think,” Moose said, “That the bullets missed my hard drives. I can just grab one of your computers, slap in the hard drives, and make my raid in time.”
“You’re not getting my computer,” Bobo said. “I’m joining some friends in Overwatch later on.”
“No you’re not,” Dane said. He walked briskly into the office. Three security guards came in with him. He sat down in an office chair close to Chris and Bobo. “That’s company property. Anyway, close call, huh?”
Dane swiveled back and looked at Moose’s desk. “Don’t get up on my account,” he yelled.
“I won’t,” Moose said.
Dane nodded and turned back to Chris and Bobo. “Anyway, that guy holding you hostage? That was Lyal the Jackal.”
Chris and Bobo’s mouths dropped open.
“Boss,” Moose yelled, “I’m going to need another computer.”
Dane rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you hear about who almost killed you all?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Moose said, “Jackal. Lyal. Blah blah blah. New computer. Now!”
“Oh for…” Dane muttered. “Anyway, you all are lucky to be alive. If he wanted you dead, he would have decorated this place with your guts like it was Lizzy Borden’s cincera. Did he say anything before he left?”
“Yeah,” Bobo said. “He’s going to come back and kill us because we made him late for an appointment or something.”
This time, Dane’s mouth dropped open. “Crap on a pita,” he muttered. “Okay, I am placing you under protection. You will have to bunk here for a while. You too, Moose.”
“We’re going to have to lock you all down. As you’ve probably heard, Lyal is very good at what he does. He’s the guy you hire to kill agents, so a couple of forensic experts and a middle-manager aren’t going to pose much of a problem to him.”
“Hey!” Moose yelled from the back.
Dane ignored him. “Was Winston here?”
Chris shook his head. “He was home during the incident.”
Dane nodded. “So I can still put at least one inspector in the field. Good. In any case, you’re going to need to make arrangements. But make them over the phone. Your department is having a shut-in.”
Bobo growled, “I swear to Zombie Jeebus, if you make us sing Kumbaya and wake us up by dumping water on our heads, Lyal will be the least…”
Dane shook his head. “Take your church camp issues somewhere else. ”
“I cannot help but notice,” Moose said from under his desk, “that a new computer has not materialized out of the aether. Does that mean that someone will have to go get one for me? Some IT geek-a-nerd or something? Or do I need to get it myself.”
Dane growled, “you and your damned computer! Why do you need a freaking computer so bad?!”
Moose sighed. “We’re raiding Endgineer Omegaplugg in less than a half hour.”
“F**K!” Dane yelled.
“Dude, you totally forgot about that? It was YOUR idea!”
“Grab Chris’ computer and get those f**king drives installed,” Dane yelled. “Bobo, go play your frilly froo froo game or whatever it is. I gotta go log in and make sure the party is gathering for the raid. Gnomeragan, ho!” He ran out of the room while Moose yelled “F**K YEAH!” from under his desk.
Chris sighed. “I think I know how Moose got his job.”
“What happened,” Diana asked. She sat up woozily, holding her head.
Angie came rushing up to Diana. “Are you okay?”
“Piecing together what happened,” she muttered. “Is it Mardi Gras?”
“So that rules that out,” Diana groaned. “Jaegermeister?”
“No, Diana… it w….”
“It doesn’t smell like sadness and missed opportunities here,” Diana said. “Let me guess… I’m on the floor. I don’t see any empty glasses, a bong, or a video game console. I’m, let’s see. at work, on the ground, you’re here… day drinking?”
“Oh for… Lyal. Lyal the Jackal was here!”
“Holy f**k!” Diana yelled, mouth dropping open in dread. “Did I make him late for anything?!”
“No, it looks like he conked you out, laid you gently on the floor, and then rifled through your belongings.”
Diana’s eyes darted nervously. “Did he look in my panty drawer?”
“No, he did… wait, you have a panty drawer here?”
“No!” Diana yelled a little too quickly. “Not as such. It’s just a drawer with panties in them…”
“Meaning it is a panty drawer…”
“…Among other things. Things that will not be in the panty drawer in a few minutes after my head clears.” Diana said.
“What is in the not-panty panty drawer, anyway?” Angie asked.
“Mind your own beeswax,” Diana suggested and rolled over, preparing to stand.
“No, no,” Angie cautioned. “Don’t stand.”
“Worried that I’ll fall again?”
“Something like that,” Angie said. “Just stay seated.”
Diana looked suspiciously at Angie.
“Errrr… what?” Angie asked.
“Hmmmmm,” Diana said.
“You want me to stay seated so you can look in my panty drawer.”
Angie frowned. “Never!”
“Admit it, you’re about to offer to get me something to drink… some water or other crap like that… so you can go to the other room and look inside my pantie drawer.”
“You were hit pretty heavily on the head, Diana. An internationally-known professional murderer just incapacitated you, looked for something, then left.”
“That is NOT a denial, Angie,” Diana said.
“Oh for…” Angie groaned and drew a Luger.
“Angie, what the hell?!”
Angie sighed. “I wanted you to stay on the ground to give Lyal more time to get away. But now you have me curious. Slowly stand up, walk in front of me, and take me to your panties.”
“You are the luckiest sons of bitches to have ever existed,” Lyal said while holding his gunshot arm. Katrina and Stuart had their guns drawn on him.
Katrina said ,”okay, so we don’t want to kill you…”
“So you keep saying,” Lyal said.
‘We really don’t,” Stuart added. “We’re being nice here.”
“I can’t believe that goddamn bullet ricocheted.”
“Yeah, it’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Katrina asked.
“Right into my arm.” Lyal sulked.
“Lyal…” Stuart warned.
“I mean, I had you both, I shot, Katrina flinched, hit the metal behind you, and the ONLY ricochet that worked during our whole gun fight was the one that hit me.”
Katrina sighed. “We were there, you know?”
“I mean,” Lyal said, “what are the f**king odds?! I had to have shot at the EXACT wrong angle. Do you know how unlikely that is? At the very least it should have shot off at a tangent and maybe even have nicked one of you.”
“We get it,” Stuart said. “We’re lucky.”
“No, you DON’T get it. Do you realized how ludicrous it is? I mean, a rebound that differs only a few degrees? This is beyond ridiculous.”
“Would you please shut up,” Katrina asked. “I want to know who wants to kill us.”
Lyal raised his eyebrows. “You said you were interested in ballistics.”
“You made it boring,” Stuart explained.
Lyal frowned, “Hurtful.”
“Forgive me,” Stuart said, “if I don’t feel bad about your situation. Who wants us dead?”
“Screw you guys,” Lyal offered. “I’m exploring this. It’s not like I’m shooting kickballs at you guys. Do you know how well a steel slug bounces?”
Katrina rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. How?”
“It doesn’t,” Lyal said, “very well at all. Then there is velocity. A bullet travels at around two thousand five hundred feet per second. You all are maybe twenty feet away from me. So I shoot, Katrina dodges somehow, it hits the metal behind her, and ricochets almost exactly back to me, hitting my shooting arm.”
“And?” Stuart asked.
“And I’m calling bullshit,” Lyal said firmly. “It’s complete bullshit that I would shoot you at what is to me point blank range, she flinches out of my way with some superhuman reflexes or ability to see the future, and the bullet ricochets and hits me. This isn’t a f**king Road Runner cartoon. This is physically impossible.”
“Are you accusing us,” Katrina asked, “of cheating in some way?”
Lyal’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you?”
Katrina smiled, “If I knew how to do that, do you think I’d still be stealing.”
“Of course you would. You’re a nearly amoral thrill junkie. You and your minimum security jailbird pal,” Lyal said. “You’re not denying it.”
Katrina sighed. “Fine. I deny having godlike powers and using them to perform inhuman feats and warp the laws of physics forcing your own bullet to hit you. Happy?”
Lyal looked down at his arm and back at Katrina. “What do you think?”
Katrina sighed. “There’s no pleasing some people.”
“Perhaps you’re just a crappy shot at close range,” Stuart helpfully suggested.
“Shut up,” Lyal admitted.
Katrina sighed. “So if you think that somehow I gamed the… wait… would you just tell us who paid you to kill us?”
“Fine. The Agency paid me to kill you. Anyway, I don’t accept your apology. Something weird happened and I want to know why you’re not dead yet.”
Katrina and Stuart’s mouths dropped open. “The Agency?” Stuart asked. “That’s not how they do things. They have plenty of killers on their own.”
“Yeah yeah,” Lyal helpfully added. “Mine is not to wonder why. Apparently mine is to shoot two idiots at close range and still somehow get hit with my own bullet. This is bullshit!”
“Sure is,” Stuart said. “Why pay so much money to kill us?”
Lyal shrugged. “You’ve made yourself really obnoxious. People hate you. Me, for instance.”
“Now who’s being hurtful?” Katrina asked.
Lyal smiled. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve been playing for time.” He nodded off to the distance behind Stuart and Katrina and said, “about time you three showed up.”
Stuart and Katrina swiveled, guns raised.
There was no one there. They heard a metallic thunk on the ground behind them. They swiveled back to Lyal, who was already leaping away. A canister was rolling to them.
Before they could react, the sides of the canister exploded in smoke. Immediately, Stuart and Katrina started gagging. They staggered backwards away from the tear gas, their eyes stinging, then ran. Though pain-soaked tears, they looked behind them. The cloud was too thick to see through.
The cloud parted and neither of them were surprised to see that Lyal was gone. What did surprise them was the small black book on the ground where Lyal was. Waiting until the gas dissipated more, Katrina pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth, then ran through the gas, grabbing the book. She exploded into another fit of coughing, while gasping out the word “mistake!”
Stuart ran around the cloud to her. “What did you get there?” He grabbed the book and opened it up. The white pages were almost completely filled with blue scribbles. It was Lyal’s day planner.
“Crap,” Katrina said through her tears. “This guy really needs to take some ‘me’ time.”
Just who is Engineer Buttplug or whatever his name is, and why do Dane and Moose want to raid him so badly? What happened to Bobo at church camp, and should someone who is licensed by some medical board hear more about it? How much more of this is Chris going to take?
What happened to Diana, and what is in her panty drawer? What did Lyal want from there? And who knew a crooked banker like Angie could be devious?
Is the Agency really paying people to kill Katrina and Stuart? Does failing to murder someone twenty feet ahead of him make Lyal the one of the worst best assassins in the world? And what is he going to do without his planner?
I am sure there are far better questions to be asked. Do yourself a favor: write them down in standard outline format and then mail it to yourself. Everyone loves receiving mail!