Mercenary Story (Part 2) - Page 7

k9870 · #61 01-24-2011, 07:11 PM

Vegetarians.......how do they live.....

S&Wshooter · #62 01-24-2011, 07:29 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by k9870

Vegetarians.......how do they live.....

Anemically

Swordfish941 · #63 01-25-2011, 03:37 PM

Here's what I picture the Nostromo (the Merc's boat) to look like:

Swordfish941 · #64 01-26-2011, 01:33 AM

I've finally decided on the song that Greg sings at the bar: Iggy Pop's China Girl:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BBAEUOOFKQ

Swordfish941 · #65 01-30-2011, 07:29 PM

Another passage:

Everyone immediately got out of their chairs and went out onto the deck. Greg was briefly stunned by the bright sunlight. He was photosensitive due to his migraines. Todd handed him a rope and he tied a sailor’s hitch around the cleat. The boat slowly reached the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront where tourists were sightseeing and shopping. As soon as he was close to the docks he hoped off with the rope in one hand and tied it around another cleat that was attached to the dock. Johnny was helping Katie and Lynn with the bow anchor, but Ares had already tossed the stern anchor in as if it was light as air. He tossed Greg his brown leather jacket. It was beaten up and a bit dirty, but it was worn with love.

“Alright, I’m going to meet Andersson at the yacht and I’ll be back with the money soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Greg took his pistol out of his holster and unloaded it. The magazine was loaded with .45 caliber hollow points. He loaded the magazine back in, chambered a round, cocked the hammer down, and engaged the safety. He placed the gun back in its holster and headed off to the yachting marina.

The man that had hired them was a Swede named Dag Andersson who worked for the African Union. He had found out that Sasha Solomon, an employee of the head of state, had taken money from the African Union and used it to fund the Lord’s Resistance Army. Andersson had hired them to kill Sasha quietly. It had been quietly, but Sasha’s death was painful. Greg had beaten him with the stock of his rifle and then shot him in the head at point blank range.

Greg had arrived at the marina and went towards a yacht called the Menelaus. A young man with bleached hair and a bad tan guarded it. He had M4 assault rifle in his hand. Greg approached him with a casual smile on his face.

“Hey, bru. It’s Archer. Gregory Archer. I’m here to see Dag Andersson. It’s about the money.”

“Your weapons.”

“Huh?”

“Hand over your weapons.” The guard said, cocking the bolt on his rifle. Greg pulled the .45 out of his holster and handed it to the guard, who tucked it in his waist. Greg walked into the yacht and was lead into the bar room. It was very elegant with a Persian rug in the middle of the room and a few paintings by Van Gogh hanging along the walls. Dag Andersson was at the bar with two bodyguards dressed in Armani suits. Andersson was in his early forties with dirty blond hair and smelled of a cheap aftershave.

“Ah, Herr Archer, so nice to see you. Drink?”

“It’s nine in the morning.”

“Yes, but this is a particularly good Scotch. Single malt, five years.” He poured himself a glass as Greg sat down.

“So, is that pig Solom dead?”

“I shot him in the head with a rifle. Is that the answer you want, Dag?”

“Ja.”

“So are you going to give me the other half of the 25,000 Rand?”

“Her Archer, I am a man of my word.” He whistled to one of his guards.

“Heinrich, få portfölj. Det är i mitt sovrum.” The guard nodded and left the room.

“So, how long have you been a soldier of fortune?”

“About four years, Dag.”

“Is the money good?”

“It depends on the job. I usually make around 1,000 Rand for guarding a convoy.”

“I was a soldier once. It’s the Swedish law that every young man participates in military service. I fought in Afghanistan and lost a lot of good friends.”

Andersson took a sip of his drink and poured another glass for Greg.

“To all the young soldiers.” Andersson said and clinked glasses. Dag swallowed his down while Greg poured his into a nearby potted plant. The guard arrived with a briefcase in hand. He gave it to Greg, who then opened it up. There were 25 bands of money in the case. Each band held 500 rand in 50 rand banknotes. Greg closed the case and shook hands with Andersson. He then left the yacht and took his handgun back from the guard.

Swordfish941 · #66 02-07-2011, 04:18 PM

Another passage:

When he arrived back at the boat, Ares was waiting for him. He was now dressed in an olive green t-shirt and had a pair of Alain Delon sunglasses on. He helped Greg get onto the boat.

“Did you get the money?”

“Yes, I got the other half of the 250,000 Rand. Let’s just get the shares sorted out so I can go home.”

The two went into the boat’s kitchen where the second case of money was. Greg opened both cases and started to divide the money. He made a stack that had five bands and gave them to each one of the mercenaries and crew. He placed the last stack in the middle of the table.

“That’s for the house.” He said putting his share into a small duffel bag. He went into his cabin and packed up some of his belongings. He shouldered the bag and walked out of the boat. Katie then followed after him.

“Where are you going?”

“To my apartment. You’re free to visit if you’d like.”

Greg then hailed a cab and told him to take him to The Gardens. The cab driver did so and drove him to an apartment building that was a few blocks away from the Mount Nelson hotel. He entered the apartment and took the lift up to the sixth floor. Young professionals mostly occupied the apartment. They were materialistic entrepreneurs who were in their early twenties and were somewhat promiscuous. When he reached the sixth floor, he got out and went to apartment 619. He took a key out of his back pocket and opened it up.

The apartment was 500 square feet. It had a living room, a kitchenette, two bedrooms, and a washroom. The living room had a couch from IKEA with a glass coffee table in front of it. A TV stand was in front of that with an 18-inch flat screen TV on top. Two potted plants were near the windowsill. The kitchenette had a refrigerator, a microwave oven, a coffee maker, and a cabinet full of food.

Greg placed the duffel bag and his pistol on the kitchen table. He placed his coat and boots in the entryway. He walked into his washroom, stripped off his clothes, and took a warm shower. Afterwards, he placed his clothes in a laundry hamper and put on a bathrobe. He then shaved, stretched a bit, and walked into his bedroom.

His bedroom had a nice view of the street below him. It had maroon colored walls and olive drab shag carpet. It had a two-man bed with black sheets, a bedside table with an alarm clock, a dresser, and a shelf where a stereo system was placed on. Greg also had a few posters in the room. On the backside of his door was a poster of David Bowie’s Aladdin Sane that was a real bargain he had bought at a flea market. Near his bed was a poster for the film Velvet Goldmine. He had gotten that one for his 15th birthday.

Greg disrobed and put on a pair of jeans and a shirt featuring Che Guevara. He took a remote off of his dresser and hit the play putting. The stereo suddenly turned on and began to play David Bowie’s John, I’m only Dancing. He lay down on his bed and picked up a paperback copy of William S. Burroughs’ Junkie. He lost interest after reading a few pages and went into the kitchenette to get something to eat. The only thing in the refrigerator was a quart of milk that had expired a few days ago. He sniffed it, winced in disgust, and threw it in the rubbish bin. He put on his jacket and boots and went out of his apartment. He went into a grocery store and bought enough food to last him a week. This included pot noodles, three quarts of milk, two cans of beef stew, a six-pack of Pepsi, a bag of potato crisps, coffee, koeksusters, and a quart of vanilla ice cream.

On the way home, he stopped by a sandwich shop and ordered a mutton Gatsby with hot chips and Heinz tomato sauce and a Coca Cola. He tucked the sandwich into one of his two brown paper bags and took the cola in his right hand. He paid the clerk and walked back to his apartment. When he got home, he put his groceries on the countertop. He then put his groceries in his respective places and sat down to eat his sandwich. He then noticed that the spare bedroom door was open. He opened a drawer in his kitchen countertop. Inside was a .357 magnum Ruger. He checked the load in it, cocked the hammer, and barged into the bedroom. To his surprise, Rocco was there. He immediately drawed out a 9mm Heckler & Koch pistol from his waistband.