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Registered: 05-2015
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A Dark Day Dawns


She never apologised for flipping the desk.

It's amazing what pops into your head when you're alone with your thoughts. At the time she was furious; all of them had worked hard to undermine the thuggish militias and promote positive development for their homes, but now all this work hung on a knifes edge. Something had been found deep beneath the soil of Africa, something that was worth enough to revitalise their foes and put the war right back to square one.

And now that thing had disappeared.

It had gone aboard a cargo ship bound for the Asias; whoever wanted it had parted bureaucratic red tape and border controls better than Moses had the Red Sea. It was only when they provided Geiger counter readings to their CIA contact that the Americans had even deemed to weigh in; now that contact was on damage control after three SEAL teams had stormed a foreign national cargo freighter in international waters and found nothing.

She had sworn up a storm, a blind rage that probably clouded many other acts of vandalism she committed that day, but she remembered flipping the desk.

She'd demanded the cargo found, no matter how far it travelled; a tall order seeing as their operation barely stretched beyond Central and Southern Africa. The quarry may have disappeared, but not without a trace. The intelligence net they cast out got a bite; there was a pirate turf war in Somalia, one of the more successful crews had gone out one day and never returned, not even a trace was found. She'd already commandeered a ride and was heading North before the phone call had even finished.

She didn't stay long in Somalia; cross-referencing had found a ship that had left Cape Town could have intersected with the initial ship, and would have been write on queue off the coast of Somalia when the pirates vanished. It's destination; Istanbul. With the questions piling up, she jumped the Gulf of Aden and cut through the Middle East towards Turkey.

She'd never make it; her contacts found the quarry. All of them blessed miracle workers. It was moving East through Southern Russia towards Central Asia; by Kazakhstan she was hot on it's heels.

Now... Mongolia. The climate a far cry from her native Africa; but she could see her target, if only metaphorically. Humourously it traveled one of the routes of the old Silk Road; even after centuries smugglers still favoured familiar grounds. The advantages of a upper-class European education. She adjusted the heavy sling draped over her shoulder, the large automatic weapon hanging from it rattled against her backpack.

The advantages of growing up in a PMC camp.

The sun started to peek over the distant mountains, those and the winter season meant the hour was late. Shame it wasn't the Winter Solstice; the days growing longer as life came back into the world after today would be poetic.

---
Arsenelle shoots the bomb

Wielder of thighs theorised to be able to crush Kryptonians!
Oct/19/2016, 1:20 am Link to this post Email KBiT   PM KBiT Blog
 
TheUrbanite Profile
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Registered: 09-2015
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Re: A Dark Day Dawns


This was really really very good, Arsen.
Not at all the text wall you thought it was.
Let's see some more!
Oct/19/2016, 5:08 am Link to this post Email TheUrbanite   PM TheUrbanite Blog
 


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