Contacting BlackandSilver
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cm_punk_fan (2)
Monday, April 13, 2009

"If I believed in a name to take in vain..."

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...I would have taken it already, and I would have taken it again after it to make sure the holder heard me. And when I took that name, there would be so many times it would come back to avenge the misuse of His name, and His existence would prove me evil for saying such a name in such a way, but instead I'm here without that luxury and without the ability to be so tame.
In my head, I was down to 10 seconds before I was 4 minutes away from the timer going off.
Now that my eyes were getting more adjusted to the dark, I could see that there were rafters that circled around the heights of the square warehouse. About 1,000 feet by 1,000 feet and at least 40 feet tall, this place was huge.
"I know that look, Jess," he said. "It means you know that you're in a pinch that you're about to fix, and time was the only thing you needed to think about."
"And if it was, how would you know for sure?" I said back.
"Because you're counting seconds off until backup gets here."
I tried to keep my cool. "I need backup to deal with you and your pistol-armed guards in the rafters?"
"You are so funny. If you weren't the holder of such a lovely badge, I would kill you out of respect for the Saints."
Before I could react, I heard a gunshot. I jumped back to get out of the way, but that was just what they wanted. My knee was hit, and they knew it.
I winced and cursed under my breath, and tried to lean off my fucked leg. I had to shoot something now. Since I had no real idea of who to shoot, and I lost count of time, I shot an exposed dead pipe and ducked out of the way of retaliation behind a crate.
The pipe, positioned in the rafters, came crashing down on one of the gunman, and made his section of the rafters fall. Underneath the other wing, I was safe from those gunmen, too.
Now, though, I was faced with the fact that the man on the floor had me cornered with a gun big enough to make Rambo shit his pants. My phone buzzed to tell me that I had backup on it's way.
"Now, now, Jess, I know you're too smart for traps."
He knew he didn't really have me cornered yet. About 2 minutes have passed since the call for backup was made, and I knew I could smile because I felt the buzz to tell me the call has been answered.
And behind him were 4 state officers, uniform-clad and handcuffing him, but then I realized something was wrong. There was another pair of gunmen aiming at them. I yelled "Get down!" But I was too late. The gunshots were heard, and one of the officers fell.
"Shoot me, Jess, and the rest get shot, too." Said the now handcuffed gangster in front of me. Then, he turned to one of the officers still standing behind him and said, "Now, take off these handcuffs, or Jess gets shot and you get shot and the guys back home at the CAPD don't hear of this."
I lowered my gun to aim at the ground.
I started looking at the path the bullet would follow, looked at the pipes it COULD hit, and a fast one is always nice. These pipes still had high-pressures of water running through them, unlike the last ones that were dead.
As soon as this pipe was hit, 50 or so gallons of water would come out in roughly 15 seconds, provided the hit was in the right place. If that right place was hit, the water would go spurting up into the rafters and drench the gunmen, but I would have to make sure I was okay to reload and shoot the guy on the ground floor with me and then I'd have to shoot down the rafters after that. Decisions, decisions.
11:23 pm - 1 comments - 2 Kudos - Report!
cm_punk_fan wrote on Apr 14th, 2009 12:24am

keep em coming... This is some damn good stuff


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