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Old 12-04-2010, 10:21 PM
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Default Mercenary Story (Part 2)

I've taken a long time to get this written down and I've decided to show another excerpt to you guys:

The two left the bar and Greg hailed a cab. "Take us to Eastern Springs Condominiums." he said. The cab driver had a Jheri curl haircut and wore thick horn-rimmed glasses. Greg took a drag on his cigarette and looked out the window. Katie rested her head on her shoulder. Twenty-five minutes later, they arrived at Eastern Springs Condominiums. Greg paid the cabbie with a twenty rand bank note and lead Katie up the stairs. They stopped at a door marked 217. Greg took a key out of his back pocket and opened the door. The inside didn't look like a bachelor's apartment. The entry way lead to a kitchen where the refrigerator, stove, and microwave were items ordered from an IKEA catalog. Beyond that was the living room. A sofa was placed in front of a glass coffee table with a few magazines and an ashtray on top of it. Underneath the coffee table was an oriental rug. In front of the coffee table was a small table with a twenty-inch color television on top of it.

Greg placed his keys, wallet and handgun on the coffee table and removed his jacket. He wore a shoulder holster underneath the jacket. He placed the jacket on the back of a chair and entered his bedroom. It had olive green colored shag carpeting and the walls were painted tan. He had a bed with a wood frame, cherry wood dresser, and a nightstand on the bed's right side. Two avant grade paintings hung above the bed. Katie walked into the room with a look of awe on her face.

"How can you afford all of this?"

"It's not actually mine. A friend of mine owns the place and he lets me use it. The washroom is to your right. You can have the bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

Katie entered the washroom and took off her shoes. She turned the knobs on the sink and splashed cold water on her face. Something then caught her attention. In her reflection she saw that she had a large bruise on her arm. She had gotten it from Paul. Paul had treated her like trash. He had beaten her out of anger or when he was drunk. When she got him angry, he would threaten her with the linoleum knife. She began to cry at the memories of abuse.

Greg was in the process of changing his shirt when he had heard her sobbing. He walked over to the restroom to see Katie sitting on the edge of the bathtub, weeping. She noticed him, got up, hugged him, and cried into his shoulder. "Its Paul, isn't it?" he asked. Katie nodded. "Don't worry. He won't harm you ever again. I've intimidated him. The stupid bastard 's probably never seen a gun before. If he even touches a hair on your head, he's a dead man."

Katie removed her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. His dreamy hazel eyes twinkled at her. She kisses him on the lips. Her lips were soft and sweet. He stared at her for a moment, and then kissed her back. They began to embrace and moved into the bedroom. He unbuckled his pants and she took off her shirt. They laid down on the bed and embraced again. They hugged and kissed each other. He whispered into her ear: "I'm just a happy camper. Rockin' and a-rollin' and whatever."

They continued on, both breathing heavily. They were now stripped down to their undergarments. He kissed her on the nose, and she kissed him on the forehead. At last, they both climaxed and laid on the bed.

“Christ, you’re good.” She said. “It’s nothing like Paul. Paul’s too rough. It hurts. But with you, it’s enjoyable. It’s one hell of an experience.”

“To be honest, the last time I remembered getting laid was a week before my service with my ex-girlfriend, Eileen. She was kind of a self-centered bitch. Plus she was too moaned too much while we were screwing. The last thing I heard of her was that she passed out at a party and two men took advantage of her.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

“It’s pretty immoral, I agree with you on that. Listen; let’s not let this be a one-night stand. I like. I really do.”

“Is it because of my body?”

“Fuck no. I like you as a person, although you do have a nice body. You can live here. Just move out of Paul’s place.”

“So you think we’re a couple?”

“Right now, I’d say we’re dating.”

The time they had first met was a memory that Katie cherished. She returned to her book. Right now the character of Clay and his friends were watching some sort of snuff film and he and his girlfriend were the only ones disturbed by it.

Ares was in the kitchen, cleaning a disassembled assault rifle. As he was putting it back together, Will walked in. His full name was William Macpherson, an American doctor. He sat down at the table and looked at the gun.

“What is that?”

“This is a CR-21 assault rifle. It was a candidate in the late 90’s as a new rifle for the South African Army. You can easily buy one of these off the black market for 500 Rand. It’s nothing special. Just a R5 rifle in a bullpup stock.”

“Bullpup?”

“That means the action is behind the trigger, so you load it in the back.”

“Yes, well, um, speaking of guns; I want one.”

“You already have the revolver.”

Will took the revolver off his hip and placed it on the table. It was a Smith & Wesson Police revolver with rubber grips.

“Well, I don’t think a .38 is going to do much good against a group of Somali pirates. I want a long gun.”

“I see. Let’s check the inventory, shall we?”

Ares lead Will to a room in the back of the boat. He flipped on a light switch and revealed a large cache of arms. He then put a rifle on one of the racks and picked up a shotgun. “Remington model 870 shotgun. This is a riot model and holds six shells in a tubular magazine. Has a flashlight mount on the forearm and a spare shell holder mounted on the receiver. Try it, you’ll love it.”

He handed Will the gun and a box of 12 Gauge ammunition. He then looked down at his watch, a Luminox. It read seven-thirty. Everyone was usually up at this time. Everyone except one particular person. He walked out of the armory and went three doors down. He then opened the door to a messy cabin where a Venezuelan man slept silently in bed. He had a crew cut and a very thin mustache and wore a T-shirt and a pair of jockey shorts. In his left hand was a bottle of whiskey.

The man reminded Ares of a hibernating bear. He took the .44 pistol out of his holster, aimed at the bottle, and fired. The sound of a gunshot in an enclosed space left him disoriented and the bottom half of the bottle shattered. The man jumped out of bed like a jack in the box.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ! What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Glad to see that you’re awake, Rocco. Anyway, I want you to check on the engines, make sure they’re running smoothly.”

“The engines are fuckin’ fine.”

“Rocco, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Now get some clothes on and check on the engines or you’ll be using crutches to walk around for the next three months.”

Ares left the room with a disgruntled look on his face. “Fokken’ domkop.” He muttered under his breath. He walked over to Greg’s cabin and knocked on the door.

“Greg? You awake?”

“Ja. Come in, bru.”
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Old 12-04-2010, 11:23 PM
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who fires a .44 indoors? wouldnt he just throw something?
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Old 12-05-2010, 12:13 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by k9870 View Post
who fires a .44 indoors? wouldnt he just throw something?
Rocco's a deep sleeper. And when I mean deep, I mean deep.
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Old 12-05-2010, 12:16 AM
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yeah, but permanent hearing loss is not worth it, just have ares flip hi cot over with him in it.
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Old 12-05-2010, 01:10 AM
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If you guys have any story ideas, post them here. I'm open to suggestions.
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Old 12-05-2010, 01:21 AM
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Maybe something else for a rifle, a modern god of war probably wouldnt use a cr 21. There old, outdated, and never were successful to begin with. Get a 6.5mm m4 or something badass, and a metalstorm 3gl
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Old 12-05-2010, 03:21 AM
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Maybe something else for a rifle, a modern god of war probably wouldnt use a cr 21. There old, outdated, and never were successful to begin with. Get a 6.5mm m4 or something badass, and a metalstorm 3gl
Any scene ideas?
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Old 12-05-2010, 04:58 PM
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One of the characters (big dudes like Ares or Van Zyl) punching some guy in the face so hard one of his eyeballs pops out of the socket
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Old 12-05-2010, 05:17 PM
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I have an idea for a bar fight (obviously started by Rocco). It goes a little something like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-HiZZ41zHY
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Old 12-06-2010, 12:42 AM
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I showed a copy of my manuscript to my aunt, and she said Greg was a bit of a blowhard.
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