16th part of the new weekly story. (1st Part) The inspiration for this came from an off hand comment I made on Facebook, and since people seemed interested I decided to follow through. Happy Reading.
“Hey buddy wake up.”
Brodie carefully opened his eyes and was thankful it was dark where ever they were. “Where are we?” He immediately closed his eyes and rubbed his temples trying to do something to alleviate the pounding headache in his head.
“Kyzyl.” The female voice said.
Brodie heard someone walking away from him and slowly opened his eyes again. He realized the plane had stopped shaking and the awful noise that somehow he had been able to sleep through had stopped. The ramp to the back of the plane was down and he could see some lights off in the distance and a dark figure walking away from him towards it. “Hello.” No answer. “Mrs. Emily?” He paused and listened while trying to see around the dark cargo area. Nothing. Brodie pulled himself out of the webbing and felt pain all through his legs, sometime in the last several hours his legs had gone to sleep and he felt the shooting pins and needles. He rubbed his legs and managed to get to his feet while holding onto the wall of the plane as he slowly made his way thru the plane and to the lowered ramp. Looking around he realized they were on another almost deserted runway. Almost because there was a larger plane parked a couple hundred yards away but with its ramp up. He looked towards the building where the lights were on and slowly started walking towards it. He saw there was a town a mile or two past the airport building and wondered again where he was.
“Can you just fuel the plane?
These were the first words Brodie heard as he entered the airport lounge.
“Because unlike me these guys will not work without getting paid and they sure as heck are not going to just give you a couple hundred gallons of gasoline just because we ask really nice.”
Brodie could hear the sarcasm in the voice and knew he had just walked in on a argument between two people who knew each other really well. The one using sarcasm was Holly the short girl who had been wearing the ragged brown jump suit but was not sporting blue jeans and a pink Hello Kitty sweatshirt, she was kinda cute Brodie realized.
“Don’t get me started on your pay, you get paid when I get paid.”
“And when was the last time we got paid.” Holly said. “Sure we can land at the monastery when ever we want and eat and sleep there for free but that is hardly putting any coins in my pocket.”
The other woman who was facing away from him had to be the pilot and her voice sounded like the woman who had woke him up. “Excuse me.” Brodie said loud enough to interrupt them. They both turned to look at him. Mary Mulan was tall, maybe even taller than Brodie and he was six foot one but in contrast to Holly she had a severe look about her, black pants, black boots, black leather jacket short almost a crew cut hair cut and a gold tooth with several piercings in both her ears and a few on her face.
“And another thing why was he still sleeping on the plane when I shut down the power he should have been off with everybody else.”
“Don’t change the subject.” Holly spat back. “We need gold to get the plane filled up and if you don’t have a couple of coins with you then you had better dig out some Benjamin’s otherwise this charter is D.O.A.”
Brodie walked a few steps closer and spoke. “Excuse me where is Mrs. Emily?”
Mary Mulan pointed down a semi lite hallway and then started to dig into her jacket. Brodie expected her to pull out a gold coin but all she did was pull out a box, flipped up the top and pulled out a dark nasty looking cigar.
“Please don’t smoke that in here.” Holly said her hands on her hips looking up at the tall woman.
“It helps me think, I am trying to think if Anatoly owes me a favor.” As she pulled out a disposal lighter and light the cigar.
“Anatoly, Anatoly yeah he owes you a favor the last time you were in town you took out his daughter and turned her on to smoking cigars and playing poker, she lost a bundle to you and her father had to pay it back.” Holly said.
Brodie looked down the aforementioned hallway and did not see anyone. “Are you sure they Mrs. Emily is down there?”
Mary Mulan shook her head and turned towards Brodie. “They are down there, there is a big guy standing out the door, he will let you in just tell him you are with Mrs. Emily.” Mary then turned towards Holly. “Where can I find a phone I can call Anatoly and get us some fuel.” Mary then walked off in the opposite direction and Holly followed her leaving Brodie alone in the waiting area with no where to go except where the pilot had pointed. Brodie navigated thru the rows of chairs and down the semi lite wide dark hallway. He had only walked less than a hundred feet when he saw a man standing in next to door on the left hand side. The man watched Brodie approach with bored expression, the bored expression Brodie understood he was from L.A. where the bored expression was a way of life, what caused him to pause was the large flashy knife the man was twirling in his hand.
“Sorry to bother you but I am looking for my boss, Mrs. Emily.”
The man stared at him then he casually flipped the knife into his other hand and with a bored flourish he pointed towards the door he was standing in front of.
“Thanks?” Brodie said as he walked around the man and pushed on the door, the room was bright and he heard conversation stop as he entered.
“Oh it is Brodie.” The voice of Mrs. Emily said cheerfully. “Come in come in.”
Brodie entered the room and found Mrs. Emily sitting on a couch with the High Pilgrim and across from them was a man about his age dressed in khaki pants and a blue polo shirt with a darker blue windbreaker on, but with an unhappy expression on his face.
“Sorry to interrupt but I woke on the plane and no one was around.”
“I thought it best if you slept you seemed so tired.” Mrs. Emily stated.
“Thank you.” Brodie said almost unconsciously. “Can you tell me where we are?”
“You are in Kyzyl, Russia.” The man on the opposite couch said.
“Oh.” Brodie said confused. “I thought we were going to Mongolia?”
Mrs. Emily shook her head. “Well were were but then we got diverted here by Mr. Verne.”
“Now Mrs. Emily it was very important that I speak to you, The Company had some very important information we thought you should have.” Mr. Verne said.
“When the Central Intelligence Agency has anything important to say about the safety of the world we be the day pigs fly.” Mrs. Emily said testily.
Brodie’s mouth dropped opened at the words Central Intelligence Agency.
“The Company has come a long way in understanding what is going on with your struggle.”
Mrs. Emily looked at the High Pilgrim who simply shrugged. “I guess we could listen although Mr. Verne came to my last year with some very important information and it turned out to be a case of too little too late, they even got the players wrong it was the Egyptian Tribe and they thought it was the Washburn Contingency.”
Mrs. Emily shook her head and Mr. Verne looked embarrassed as though he had failed a very important test. “This time you really need to here this.”
“Well spit it out then, we have a long way to go and we have a nice head start on the Opposition right now and every second we waste here cuts into that lead time.” Mrs. Emily said impatiently.
Mr. Verne took out a folder and began to read. “Yesterday a Mr. Basil Copley Webb flew into St. Petersburg and met with your daughter.” He looked up for a reaction there was none from Mrs. Emily or the High Pilgrim. “He took her to the Plaza hotel and he checked her in for the night he then returned in the morning an he began driving her around the city, and from what we can gather this Mr. Webb was helping her look for you Mrs. Bartloski.”
Emily nodded sadly. “And you flew all this way to tell me this?”
“Yes I thought you would like to know that your daughter Meredith is in danger.” The C.I.A. man said in a shocked voice.
Not crazy about the title, any suggestions will be duly considered.
The problem I have discovered with this type of writing is if I commit to something in the story there is no taking it back I just have to go with is and write my way out of it.
If you would like to read my last weekly story, A Disinclined Purveyor of Sequential Art here it is. (Written in 2013, the same year my wife left me, so I was a different person back then, and I hope I have learned a lot about writing since then.)
My Response: The prophecy stated that in 60 years if the Stones were not properly aligned then the world would fall under the sway of the demon king for 1000 years. 1956 21 year old Emily the chosen one starts the quest. She arranges half the Stones around the planet, but then falls in love and life happens. Now it is 59 years later, Emily’s husband of 58 years passed away and one of the monks has found Emily and reminds her that she is the chosen one and needs to complete her task. Anyone interested?