I'm late! I'm late!
Does it help knowing that I'm running late? Nope, it doesn't... oh well. Lol.
I think things are going pretty well this week. My physiotherapist completely revamped the home exercise routine I have to do as of last Friday and, happily, I can now type again. I even had the ability to do some knitting yesterday! It's been a couple weeks since I've been able to use my hands for knitting, and typing hurt too much for almost a week and a half. Moral of the story: repetitive strain injuries are bad and everyone who uses their hands needs to take stretch breaks. This is advice I didn't listen to and thirty years is a long time to be in pain for something that had been avoidable.
As for being able to type again... no, I wasn't working on anything I'm supposed to be writing. A cool short story with a sorcerer who needs help and a liege with a sentient sword popped into my head and that's what I've spent my two hours of typing time a day on. Except for today. Today I'm blogging. Obviously.
Learnings from this week:
I'm starting to post up a new story today. Cloning and secrets and bad guys, oh my! Chapter 1 is below. :)
Here's the blurb from what I posted on Wattpad: "Twenty-four years ago, thirty soldiers agreed to donate DNA samples for scientific development... and then forgot about it. Three days ago, the facility where the samples had been used to create what some would call super soldiers was attacked. Three of the created Human-Hybrids haven't been recovered. Their donors have been recalled from retirement to help with the search, but the veterans notice something isn't right. And the clock is ticking."
It's been a decent week. Fingers crossed things stay going okay for the weekend and through to next week (high hopes and low expectations). Hope you have a great weekend!
The private jet touched down and the two passengers already on board sat on the floor as ordered. They hid out of sight below the windows and watched three men in suits take up positions around the interior side of the door with guns drawn. Outside, stairs were wheeled up to the side of the jet as soon as the door cracked opened. The next passenger was shoved up and tumbled onto the plane amidst shouted orders and scuffling activity for the latest batch of suited men to get on board before the stairs were gone.
One new man in a suit came on board and went directly to the cockpit. He unlocked the door with a key from his pocket and relocked it the moment he was inside. The new passenger glanced at the other two as he was lifted from the floor and shoved into a seat, his hands secured behind him with plastic ties. A gun held by one of the three who’d covered the door aimed in the general direction of the newcomer’s head; both passengers on the floor could see the safety was still on, but the posture would look intimidating through the windows.
The new guy obviously wasn’t intimidated by the posturing, or remotely interested in being on the plane. He head butted the person trying to click his seatbelt and charged the one with the gun drawn on him. The man with the gun sidestepped and struck with the butt of the pistol, retreating as the new guy – blinking fast and shaking his suddenly aching head – was lifted and dropped back into the seat.
“Ow!” the new guy exclaimed. He could focus again by the time the seatbelt clicked and glared up at the guy who’d hit him. “Fuck you!” he yelled when he realized his leg wouldn’t reach for a kick.
Gunshots sounded outside, near the plane, as the flight crew raced through their take-off requirements around the still-open door. From spying out the nearest window, it looked like the guys in body armor who were retreating into matching SUVs were firing toward a hodge-podge charge of quickly approaching vehicles. The plane started powering down the runway before the door was sealed.
As soon as they were told they could, the two passengers climbed back into their seats. They were just buckling in as the plane lifted off, sitting by side and both facing forward, across the aisle from the newcomer. All three passengers looked like they were in their mid or late fifties, and each had been plucked from their lives to board this plane without yet knowing why. In the window seat was Jerry Karloft, a security guard with a history of military service (of which most of that history was blacked out and filed in places most people didn’t even know existed). Beside him and separated from the newcomer by the aisle was Ray Defuuga, a retired five-star General and one of Jerry’s oldest friends. That left only the new passenger, who neither Jerry nor Ray recognized, and who was now quietly sitting there and sullenly looking around at everyone.
“Detective Nathan Alexander, welcome aboard,” one of the men who had brought him onto the plane said from behind him. The new guy looked startled, then – if possible – even more wary. He tried to look over his shoulder to where the voice was coming from, but was blocked by the large headrest on his seat.
“I go by Nate,” the Detective replied.
“Our instructions stated you could be safely extracted from this airport as long as it looked like an arrest,” the man who’d hit him said while dialing a number into a disposable cell phone. He spoke into the phone, telling whoever he was talking to that Nate was on the plane, and then he pressed the cell to the Detective’s ear.
“Hello?” Nate said, and then listened for nearly a whole minute. “What?” he yelled. “No! You have got to be kidding me! I’ve been on this case for the past two fucking years, you can’t just…!” More noise from the phone interrupted him. “Fuck you!” Nathan yelled and then kicked the arm of man holding the phone, effectively signaling the end of the conversation. He scowled, glaring at everyone he could see except Ray and Jerry.
“So I guess you two got pulled off your cases, too, huh?” Nate asked.
“Let’s call it removed from our most recent circumstances,” Jerry answered.
“Shit,” Nathan said. He tried to use one of his arms and scoffed that he was still restrained. “Hey, you dipshits can untie me now.”
Jerry had been called by his boss at two in the morning because of late-night visitors at the little, non-secret research facility he was head of security for. Turned out the visitors were some of the suited people on the plane with him, bringing a military order he’d hoped to never hear again to immediately go where he was sent; he’d find out later where and maybe why. Now it was later and he still didn’t know where or why. Ray had come from an early-morning breakfast with his wife and kids after a knock on the door of his house and the same order Jerry had gotten. Seeing Jerry, Ray’s old Commanding Officer from his days before climbing into political ranks, had creased his forehead. However, the years of dealing with politicians meant a few wrinkles were Ray’s only physical reaction of surprise to finding Jerry already on the plane.
The man closest to Nate flipped open a knife and the Detective leaned forward to give access to the ties binding his hands. Ray and Jerry both noticed a small trickle of blood behind Nathan’s ear and exchanged a quick frown. Nathan reached up to the spot on his head where he had been hit and pulled his fingers away bloody.
“Stupid, green, junior fucks…” he muttered while looking at his fingers. Ray offered him a napkin that had been handed out with a small packet of cookies an hour ago. Nathan looked at Ray carefully, a spark of recognition burning behind his gaze on seeing the retired General. “Thanks,” Nate said, taking the napkin.
“Don’t mention it,” Ray replied easily.
“I’m Nate,” the Detective said, introducing himself as he held out his right hand.
“Jerry,” Jerry said with a wave.
“I’m Ray.” Ray shook Nate’s hand warmly and the Detective’s shoulders dropped from the tensed position they’d been in since coming on board.
“So, either of you guys know what we’re doing here?” Nate asked, looking around again. His eyes paused on emergency exits and where every person was sitting, flicking quickly to note where emergency equipment was, before returning to gaze at Jerry and Ray with a moderate level of curious assessment.
“Not yet,” Jerry replied. He offered Nate a small smile before glaring at the nearest man who had come on board during the last stop. The younger man shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the closed cockpit door.
“Our only instructions were to collect you three, Mr. Karloft,” said Ronnie, the man who had welcomed Nate and was now the center of Jerry’s attention.
“So where are we being taken to?” Jerry asked. Ronnie opened his mouth, ready to shrug that he didn’t know, and then shrank back from Jerry’s stare, deciding in the moment to change his response and tell the truth when all three passengers were looking at him the same way.
“Arizona,” Ronnnie admitted.
“Ray?” Jerry asked, turning his head to speak to his friend. Ray was already thinking on it.
“The base would’ve called us in directly,” Ray said. His eyebrows drew together in the old familiar way. “There are a few places in the desert that could have us collected like this, but only one in Arizona. It’s a research facility I don’t know much about, only that they could make movies about it. Not the happy kind.”
Ray and Jerry thought on this information for a few moments.
“Excuse me, uh, sirs?” Nate interrupted their thinking, looking uneasy. “I haven’t been military for twenty-two years. I did four years and then I went police force. I’ve been in PDs ever since.”
Ray and Jerry exchanged a glance and a shrug. “I guess we’ll find out more in Arizona,” Ray offered. He shook his head slightly as a warning, glancing meaningfully at the people who’d collected them, when Nate inhaled to ask another question. The three veterans remained silent for the rest of the flight.
A weekly blog updating on Saturdays with quick personal blurbs about me, as in what's going on during my life as an Author and mom, and that doles out my short stories and novellas in bite-sized parts for everyone to read for free!