So There I Was Again (Also Not Very Serious)
- Thread starter Nightcrawler
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Nightcrawler
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Part Thirteen....short update
Well folks, I was in a real mess. I had a tractor trailer full of spoons and chemical weapons. I could deal with the spoons, but what the hell do you do with VX nerve gas?
I could have, of course, sold it on the black market. Those four canisters would've made me a very wealthy man. But, okay, I break the law for a living, but I'm still an American. What kind of man wants nerve gas? Where would he use it? Yeah. I'll be damned if I'm going to support terrorists. I run an honest business here. I wasn't about to sell it, and I didn't have the foggiest idea on how to dispose of it.
So I sat Ling down and questioned her for almost an hour. I felt bad laying the high-pressure interrogation stuff down on a woman, but this was serious. I questioned her relentlessly, but I got nothing out of her. It seemed that she honestly had had no idea that where the stuff was from, where it was going, or what the Luminous Path was going to do with it. She was pretty pissed at me afterward, and I apologized eventually. She'd get over it, I thought. You don't become an underground crime boss by being a pansy, after all.
But that still didn't solve the question of what I was going to do with it. I couldn't return it to the Luminous Path now; God only knew who they were planning on selling it to.
I sighed. I only had one choice, and that was to return it to the Army. Doing so would almost certainly compomise my operation and get me thrown in the Fed Pen. I could imagine Agent French coming by my cell twice a week to gloat.
Then it hit me. What in the hell was French doing with this stuff? He must've known it was in there. Did he retreive it for the government? No, that couldn't have been it, I thought. They wouldn't use the ATF to recover stolen Army chemical weapons, and they certainly wouldn't store it in an abadoned garage in Upper Michigan. A legitimate government retreival team would've immediately returned the stuff to wherever it came from.
I explained my line of thinking to Corwin and Ling. It was puzzling to them as well.
"Maybe French was stealing it for himself," Corwin suggested. That was entirely possible, I thought, but why?
"To sell it?" Ling asked. "I understand that these chemcials are very valuable."
"Hmm...maybe," I thought. "Seems awfully risky, though, for a federal agent to try to seal chemical weapons from the Army and sell them on the black market."
"Somehow you're involved in this, Michael. If he was just planning on stealing it, why would he make it seem as though you had been responsible?" Ling asked. I thought about this for a bit.
"I heard that the DEA was looking at French for his little coke habit, and that this whole frame-up was a way of getting me to turn myself over to make him look good and save his job. But...." I trailed off.
"What?" Corwin asked.
"Holy hell, man. He was trying to doublecross me. I was supposed to come to him for protection from the Luminous Path, on his promise of minimal jail time if I reveal my network, contacts, and customers. I was going to do that, he'd have the ATF search my warehouse, and plant the chemical weapons there."
"Why go through all that trouble?" Ling asked. "He's just a bureaucrat."
"He's a clever bureaucrat," I replied. "Think about it. He's on the verge of getting canned, maybe put in jail, right? So, he suddenly not only busts a black market arms dealer, who was selling guns on a school campus, but he finds the nerve gas too. So now, instead of just a criminal, I'm some kind of insidious terrorist, and French is a national hero. He'll complain that only if the ATF had a bigger budget, he could do his job better, and they'll get funding from congress and approval from the public. Meanwhile, I go down as some kind of domestic terrorist. God knows what they'd say about me."
"Damn," Corwin said, lighting a cigarette. I have to tell you, folks, I was mad. I was so mad I was shaking. I turned around and walked away from Corwin and Ling, heading up the metal stairs to the catwalk. I had a little office set up on the catwalk level, and that's where I went. I closed the door and pulled down the venetian blind, blocking the large window that overlooked the warehouse floor.
I just sat in my big leather chair and fumed. I cursed aloud, slammed my fists on the table, you name it. Eventually, though, I calmed down. I realized how very fortunate I was; God must like me or something. But, French was still out there, and I couldn't let this sit. I was going to get him for this, I swore.
Easier said than done. I not only had a doubly dilligent Francis French to deal with, but also the Luminous Path. And I still had to figure out what to do with the chemical weapons.
I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. As I sat there, staring at the wall, I began to formulate a plan.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Well folks, I was in a real mess. I had a tractor trailer full of spoons and chemical weapons. I could deal with the spoons, but what the hell do you do with VX nerve gas?
I could have, of course, sold it on the black market. Those four canisters would've made me a very wealthy man. But, okay, I break the law for a living, but I'm still an American. What kind of man wants nerve gas? Where would he use it? Yeah. I'll be damned if I'm going to support terrorists. I run an honest business here. I wasn't about to sell it, and I didn't have the foggiest idea on how to dispose of it.
So I sat Ling down and questioned her for almost an hour. I felt bad laying the high-pressure interrogation stuff down on a woman, but this was serious. I questioned her relentlessly, but I got nothing out of her. It seemed that she honestly had had no idea that where the stuff was from, where it was going, or what the Luminous Path was going to do with it. She was pretty pissed at me afterward, and I apologized eventually. She'd get over it, I thought. You don't become an underground crime boss by being a pansy, after all.
But that still didn't solve the question of what I was going to do with it. I couldn't return it to the Luminous Path now; God only knew who they were planning on selling it to.
I sighed. I only had one choice, and that was to return it to the Army. Doing so would almost certainly compomise my operation and get me thrown in the Fed Pen. I could imagine Agent French coming by my cell twice a week to gloat.
Then it hit me. What in the hell was French doing with this stuff? He must've known it was in there. Did he retreive it for the government? No, that couldn't have been it, I thought. They wouldn't use the ATF to recover stolen Army chemical weapons, and they certainly wouldn't store it in an abadoned garage in Upper Michigan. A legitimate government retreival team would've immediately returned the stuff to wherever it came from.
I explained my line of thinking to Corwin and Ling. It was puzzling to them as well.
"Maybe French was stealing it for himself," Corwin suggested. That was entirely possible, I thought, but why?
"To sell it?" Ling asked. "I understand that these chemcials are very valuable."
"Hmm...maybe," I thought. "Seems awfully risky, though, for a federal agent to try to seal chemical weapons from the Army and sell them on the black market."
"Somehow you're involved in this, Michael. If he was just planning on stealing it, why would he make it seem as though you had been responsible?" Ling asked. I thought about this for a bit.
"I heard that the DEA was looking at French for his little coke habit, and that this whole frame-up was a way of getting me to turn myself over to make him look good and save his job. But...." I trailed off.
"What?" Corwin asked.
"Holy hell, man. He was trying to doublecross me. I was supposed to come to him for protection from the Luminous Path, on his promise of minimal jail time if I reveal my network, contacts, and customers. I was going to do that, he'd have the ATF search my warehouse, and plant the chemical weapons there."
"Why go through all that trouble?" Ling asked. "He's just a bureaucrat."
"He's a clever bureaucrat," I replied. "Think about it. He's on the verge of getting canned, maybe put in jail, right? So, he suddenly not only busts a black market arms dealer, who was selling guns on a school campus, but he finds the nerve gas too. So now, instead of just a criminal, I'm some kind of insidious terrorist, and French is a national hero. He'll complain that only if the ATF had a bigger budget, he could do his job better, and they'll get funding from congress and approval from the public. Meanwhile, I go down as some kind of domestic terrorist. God knows what they'd say about me."
"Damn," Corwin said, lighting a cigarette. I have to tell you, folks, I was mad. I was so mad I was shaking. I turned around and walked away from Corwin and Ling, heading up the metal stairs to the catwalk. I had a little office set up on the catwalk level, and that's where I went. I closed the door and pulled down the venetian blind, blocking the large window that overlooked the warehouse floor.
I just sat in my big leather chair and fumed. I cursed aloud, slammed my fists on the table, you name it. Eventually, though, I calmed down. I realized how very fortunate I was; God must like me or something. But, French was still out there, and I couldn't let this sit. I was going to get him for this, I swore.
Easier said than done. I not only had a doubly dilligent Francis French to deal with, but also the Luminous Path. And I still had to figure out what to do with the chemical weapons.
I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. As I sat there, staring at the wall, I began to formulate a plan.
TO BE CONTINUED...
J.J.
Member
*applauds and then sits back and twiddles his thumbs until the next action packed episode…* (hopefully action packed anyway)
Red Dragon
Member
"So, he suddenly not only busts a black market arms dealer, who was selling guns on a school campus, but he finds the nerve gas too. So now, instead of just a criminal, I'm some kind of insidious terrorist, and French is a national hero."
I wonder if its just coincidence that "French" wanting to be a hero for busting a terrorist is a total switch from the country France not wanting to help bust terrorists
perhaps I am reading too deep into it
I wonder if its just coincidence that "French" wanting to be a hero for busting a terrorist is a total switch from the country France not wanting to help bust terrorists
perhaps I am reading too deep into it
Elmer Snerd
Member
Actually, the "chemical weapon" drums are filled with pirated Teletubbies DVDs. The real problem is that the spoons are made of plutonium.
Brian Dale
Member
az,
What — Mexicans smuggling nerve gas? Ah, you mean the Chinese. He already TOLD us that they ...
Oh, Wait —
those aliens!
What — Mexicans smuggling nerve gas? Ah, you mean the Chinese. He already TOLD us that they ...
Oh, Wait —
those aliens!
Brian Dale
Member
{E.T. Voice}KILL ... ELLIOT!!!{/E.T. Voice}
Oh, Man, I'm having trouble breathing here ...
I should probably be ashamed that I find that so funny ...
Oh, Man, I'm having trouble breathing here ...
I should probably be ashamed that I find that so funny ...
elkhunter
Member
Great read NC. Can't wait for the action-packed ending. (there IS going to be an action-packed ending isn't there? no standard ending will do)
9 m&m
Member
Great story!!!!! ...........dont leave me hangin!!!!!
71Commander
Member
It's been 2 days..............................................................................? We're waiting.
Nightcrawler
Member
I'm supposed to be going on spring break, you know.
But NOOOOOO...the brakes on my car are going out and I can't get in to get them fixed until Monday morning..
Update tonight or tomorrow almost certainly.
But NOOOOOO...the brakes on my car are going out and I can't get in to get them fixed until Monday morning..
Update tonight or tomorrow almost certainly.
Bigjake
Member
bring it on down here to ohio, i'll fix the bloody brakes for nothing, just git on with the story!
jthuang
Member
Great stuff, keep it coming.
BTW I am awaiting the appearance of a certain carbon-fiber clad character replete with a titanium-stringed banjo.
BTW I am awaiting the appearance of a certain carbon-fiber clad character replete with a titanium-stringed banjo.
Pheonix
Member
This thread will probably hold the record for the number of BUMPS!
spartacus2002
Member
uh, how about a Desert Eagle instead of a banjo?
Last edited by a moderator:
Jim March
Member
Her talents are enormous. Both of them. And she likes to show 'em off .
.Nightcrawler
Member
Patience, brasshopper
I'm working on it.
It is a friday night, you know. By rights I should be out at the club trying to pick up a girl. Not that it ever works, but by God I try....
I'm working on it.
It is a friday night, you know. By rights I should be out at the club trying to pick up a girl. Not that it ever works, but by God I try....
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