Silly Story for the Bored and...well bored realy.

[Ezteq]

hehe you'd have a fit if you went up north irl then, im from the uk and i have a job with it sometimes lol. binky thank you for this story im really enjoying this its like the old radio plays where they say "tune in tomorrow for the next exciting installment" also is good cos i cant skip to the end and find out whodunnit hehehe

 

[Talsar]

I think we should send this thread to penguin books

http://www.penguin.co.uk/

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Sorry, no update today (sob) but double storyline tomorrow, i swear. Been visiting my bro and family today (got more uke: over me again, thx to my nephew). That plus other things have interupted todays 'insights', but i will make it upto you, and as soon as the websire is up and running (soon i hope) ill move it there.

Did i just hear someone cheering???

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Balls, have to start over again (browser quit on me) Anyway, got me paintball gum through today (wonderbra) and have been playing, but back to work now, so, where were we?

<<<Continued>>> (Big ears, Noddy, and the Fat controller went to the EU to represent Britain in the commonwealth...)

Both me left the library and drove back to the headquarters via the cannon street entrance. James had a lot to think about on the way back and asked a few questions.
"So almost all vampires live in the catacombs?"
"Yup, they got electricity, gas and clean water, straight from the lines."
"But the catacombs are filled with the dead. Don't they mind that?"
"Nah, the dead are good landlords. Quiet and don't cause any trouble. The perfect neightbours."
"Oh... well, don't they feel a little bitter, living underground?"
"No-ones complained, and they did settle there themselves. Plus they can stay awake for over four hundred hours at a time. Not to mention that they don't spend all there time down there."
Both men returned to there desks.
"Right, once your upto speed, we will get you to be a bout on the web, on our sites to keep the theorists in check. It's difficult, and you'll have to think up things, almost on the spot, and you'll have to get authorisation for some things. But appart from that, it's all normal. Plus you'll have to get some field time in, going out to places and getting to know the people you'll be 'ahem' working with."
"Theres more?"
"Much more, but we'll get to this in time, after all, this is only one day... we have another month to finnish your training. First thing though, the basics, field manual and learning two vehicle skills, then the target range. After i'm done with you, you'll be one of the best bloody agents here. But..." he checked his watch "It's quiting time for you, three o'clock."
"Eh?"
"Well, normally, we finnish at six on the day shift, but we can go longer, if theres a crisis on. However, you've had a long day already, and training and orientation begins tomorrow. Don't worry, i'll pick you up in the morning. Go home and rest, you'll need it."

On the train back to his flat in Rochdale, James thought about the day he'd just had. It was all just a little to swallow in one gulp, and there was more to come. He felt like the world now rested on his shoulders, the responcability of keeping knowledge away from those who would abuse it, and keeping those who would be persicuted safe. That made the task ahead of him even more daunting, and risky. The train pulled into Deansgate station, and four people got on, spotted him and sat down around him, all looking expectantly at him.
"So...?" Said Cipher (Real name colin) "What did you learn, were we right, are they brainwashing people?" He looked looked like a failed hippy, sruffy-long hair plenty of pot, but too wounde up for it to take affect.
"Yeah, what gives, who are they? Are they developing assassination tech?" That from, Twitch (Julian), he looked like Cipher, but with scruffier clothes.
All were looking at him, almost drooling at the possobilities. James had met them all during his time at college, kindred spirits of a sort, all of them dependable and alert, open to the possobilities of what the truth being hidden was. That was what made this all the more unberable, they were all trustworthy, and he was about to betray that trust.
"Guys, there a publishing company. They want a researcher for there studies into human relationships and the spread of cult thinking among the population." He let that hang for a minite.
"What? Thats bull, that makes no sence. Why go to all that secrecy?" Again, Cypher was first to reply.
"Yeah, why all thet criptic bull at the dinner?" This from Dis-log (Patrick).
"And the whole meeting at the bookstore basment bit." En1gmA (Christopher).
"It's a government run study, it has to be a private affair, out of the public light. As for the bookstore, it's got a reference library in the basement, he showed me the sudies done over the last fifty years, showing social trends and changes. It's not what i assumed anyway, the whole secrecy thing is to do with the fact that corporations want the studies results, and have been ruthless in aquiring them, there worth millions to any marketing firm and corporations whose whole existence hinges on cashing in on social trends. Imagin if any one corporation could jump on the bandwagon with merchandise suited for a trend before it starts? They could be the first, and possoble only supplier of said goods, and make a fortune.
"The secrecy is to protect th study from becoming a marketing tool, and to help the government try and knock potential problems in the head before they start."
"Oh yeah, like what." En1gmA again.
"Well, imagine being able to find predict if the Nazi's in the country are going to be populare, you can find out in advance, and try to stem the tide, or educate better. Imagine if they could have knocked it in the head back before the war? I would have happened anyway, but it wouldn't have been as twisted as it turned out. Thats just an example." He looked at the four faces, all of which looked very dishearted. The fifth face looked neutral as ever, belonging to Carl. He worked for an electronics company as a technician, buildig and designing devices to make life that little bit easier. Out of the lot, he was the only one who had a job lined up for when he left university, and earned more money than the lot of them. He just sat back, and smiled, slightly. He was the only one who didn't beleive that jame's recruitment was anything covert.
"Guys, i hate to say i told you so, but..." he said in a rather sarcastic tone.
"Flake-off, wise-ass!"
"Sorry."
"Look guys, i know your upset, but this is an actual job, and maybe ill find out something working there."
"At the book shop?" Asked Dis-log.
"Partly, mostly ill be working in an office nearby. I havent seen it yet, just been breifed about the project today."
The shaw stop was coming up, and all but James and Carl stayed say.
"Well see you later, we gotta go, got to disapaoint a lot of people tonight." Said Cipher, bitterly. They all pilled off and the train then continued on towards rochdale. Once they were on there way, Carl asked the question.
"So, think of that on the spot, or did paul give you that story?"


<<<More after food>>> (Mwuhahahahahaha)

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Didn't get food, so ill continue.

<<<Continued>>> (City of Hero's, the game that allows you to crate your own superhero, all the way down to there clothing. Oh, yeah, and it allows you to play em as well, but the character generator is better.)

"What the fuck...!" Said James.
"Aye, been with the ministry since uni. They recruited me not long before graduation." Said Carl.
"But, why, when, how?" spluttered James.
"Well, to be blunt, i'm needed for my technical abilities. They need guys like me to keep all that fancy stuff working as well as feild equipment. You were already on there books, but they needed me here for control in case you didn't take. I told em it wasn't needed but, well, they needed to be sure."
"Crap! I've been played."
"No, you were out-manuvered. They wanted us both, and picked the best way to get us. Don't be pissed, it's how they work."
"It's till a fucking pain in the ass."
"Don't worry. Let's go back to yours, we got some toys for you to play with."
Both men got off the train at Rochdale, and headed over to James flat. Once inside, james could instantly tell someone had been, someone had cleaned up! The old run down suite was replaced by a more comfortable sofa, and the recliner was replaced by a new leather model. The computer was also replaced by new machine, not office standard, but upto the task of a home pc, unlike his old macine. The kitchen was even worse, the scum, grime and mould was all cleaned up. They had even removed the loaf of bread that had been here since he had moved in, over two months ago.
"Like the new digs?"
"What have they done....? What's happened to the carpets?"
"Ah, thats whats known as 'clean', as your carpet is actually cream, and not brown. Also, the bedroom has had..."
"...Bedroom!" He interupted, running towards the room "Ah, what have they done!"
"Well, they cleaned up, changed the sheets, took out the old porno and folded all your clothes. This is a one time deal, it wont happen again, thats for sure. And just so you know, umderwear bends without the use of a hammer."
He burst back into the living room "Why did they do this?"
"Because this is how your supposed to live when your not a student anymore. If anybody asks, you've got a good salary now. Simple. Now, the taser's recharger is in the bedroom, next to the alarm, if your asked about it, just tell people your boss demands you carry it around, because he does."
"Right, fine, any other suprise's?"
"Yup, the heavy pistol is in a hollow in the side of the recluner. Just push the side and it opens up, gun, ammo, manual and tools are all there. Used only in emergencies. The Tv and the phone work as a video phone now, just hit AV on the screen, and hit loudspeaker on the phone and dial hash three times then one oh one. That switches on the trans-link to the network, a menu will apear on the screen, just use the phone buttons to navigate.
"The microwave is also a hologram emitter."
"A what?"
"Just joking. The microwave is just that. The alarm panel not only activates the house alarm, it's also linked to the intruder system, the gas sprays and the sonic dampeners."
"Dampeners?"
"Passive knockout generator. Also, as long as the alarms active, the computer is offline, wont work otherwise. To activte the alarm, use the thumbprint scanner."
"Fine, as long as thats all that has been done."
"Well, there is one thing....need a flatmate?"
"No! Thats the last thing i need."
"Just asking. So, what are you going to do now."
"Weap in the tattered remains of my life you guys have left me. That and eat that pizza from last night."
"Ah..."
"You didn't."
"They did...."
"OUT!"

Next morning, after suffering the after affects of a chicken curry and two pints of larger, james awoke with a start, picked up the taser and threw it across the room. The alarm seemed to mock him now, with it's constant drilling beep, and he swore as he turned it off. He opened his wardrobe, and immediatelly wished he hadn't, twenty identical black suit's were hanging on the rail.
The previous night had been a voyage of discovery. Living like a bachelour had done some strange things to him, like his cleaning habits, his colour perceptions and his inability to smell the foul odour of his home. It was a small wonder he had ever managed to get laid, let alone kept a girlfriend for any time before now.
The old food cartons had been binned, the porn had been binned, the carpets had been cleaned, the floors, walls and ceiling had been scrubed. He barely recognised the place. Worse still was the fridge, all the food had been scrapped, and Thordinum (His prize mould, just days away from speech) had been dumped, the bastards.
A knock came at the door, and Paul entered without permission.
"Like the new digs?"
"No. The other place had charm. This is just an extension to the office."
"Look, living like a pig is not he way to live. Your a big boy now, and that means living like one."
"If i bring back a woman back here, she'll think i'm either gay or living with my mother. Thats the biggest turn off."
Paul look at him for a second "Right, of course, what were we thinking."
"Bugger this. I'm not brining a woman back here till it's has it's charm back."
"In other words, when it's a bloody stye then?"
"Yes, when it has it's chgarm back...."
"And you expect a woman to stay after seeing it?"


<<<More later, need nurishment>>>

 

[Ezteq]

they threw out his p0rn??? hanging offence imo

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Right, i have all day to do this installment (Well, from about 12pm). So, now that we have established the basis of the organisation (such that it is), were going to the cheese "Six months later" that all lazy writers use. As i hinted to earlier, there is far more going on than whats been mentioned, so expect some x-files piss-takes.

<<<Continued>>> (Sponsored by the "British Olympic Piss-Taking Team")

Six months had passed since his recruitment, and James was still astounded by some of the aspects of his job. He had thought that most of his job was simply misdirection, and protecting those who needed it the most. However, after receiveing a call at two am, asking for him to turn up to Canal street in manchester 'armed', he quickly changed his mind.

Carl had also been called in, and so gave him a lift in his car, all the way into Manchesters city centre. Both men had received no information other than to come armed, which was something that bothered them, especially Carl who wasn't a feild agent. The scene itself was suprisingly sparce, with only one team of five men plus paul attending.
"Gentlemen, sorry to wake you so early, but we have a situation, follow me." Said Paul, leading them towards a body nearby "This was a mister Frank Carter, communications expert and code breaker for private concern. He had found out a hidden computer communication protocol last month and was contacted by the operators of said protocol, us if you need the dots connecting. We were recruiting him, tonight we were meeting to exchange the information he had and to induct him properly into the ministry. I was to meet him here at One am, but he got here early, and someone shot him, and took the disk with the information.
"Our task tonight is to find his killer and to get that disk. This was a profetional job, no casings to be found and the body was dumped about to be dumped into the canal, he was half drapped over the railings when i found him. Must have disturbed whoever was doing it and they fled."
"Er, if it was a profetional job, why are you not dead?" From Carl.
"Profetionals only kill those there payed to kill. No freebie's. Thats what seperates em from common murderers. Anyway, three bullets in his chest, no casings, no other evidence, except of course his previous employer."
"Not following you."
"They wanted the protocol, turn it public, and use it for there own business. He took all the information and put it on th disk, to return it to us as a sign of good faith. Carl, your in the van rutting tech, James, with me."
Carl got into the nearby van, whilst James and Paul got into a ministry car.
"So, what first. We have one lead and no witnesses, so whats next?"
"Right, his previous employer is located in London. Local cameras should give us an idea of where to look first though, i doubt the killer would try leaving the area in a car at this time, they'd be easily identified."
"So there still in the area?"
"Probobly." Paul switched on the radio, and tuned into the thiird radio band "Carl, you there?"
"Aye" came his vioce over the radio "What do you need first?"
"Look througth the local cameras, look for our friends movements with about a half mile radius, find out if he was being shadowed. Then trace the killers movements. We'll look around the local area, see if we can pick up anything, report back in about twenty mnites."
"Will do." The radio clicked off.
Paul and James drove around the local area, looking at parked vehicles and alleyways, looking for anything suspicious.
"Got somethng" came Carls voice afer twenty minites "They got off the train at Oxford Road, headed down to a local boozer for about two hours. Our man left just before twelve, and went for a walk down the universities. Looks like he knew he was being followed too, took some major detours through student country, trying to shake him. Didn't do it mind. Then our guy doubled back up, upper brook street, princess street and straight to canal street. The killer shadowed him from a taxi, the drivers body is in a dumpster off of Bruswick street. It's being seen too by the clean-up team."
"What about the killer? Anything on him?"
"Welll, he's parked the cab near the shipping canal at Water edge business park, he's probobly going to dump it. No ID on him yet, but ill keep on it. Send his picture to your phone now."
Pauls phone beeped it's usual greeting as the picture came through.
"You sure this is him? He looks like Burt Renolds with a beard?"
"Thats him, you want me to send in a team?"
"No, we'll handle this. Just get us an ID."
"Will do. Out."
"So, we'll handle this. Were going to handle a murderer, by ourselves. Alone."
"Yup. Were going to find him and shoot him." He said, in a perky tone "And then were going to get coffee."

They found the taxi parked the business park, however there was no driver in sight. The taxi was left unlocked, and the engine was going cold.
"So what now?" asked James.
"He can't be far. Transport has nothing moving in or out of the area till six, and taxi's have been busy with the night clubs. There wont be any free till about four am. Nearest place to get a taxi at this time is about ten minites walk away at Trafford Road. There's a club nearby, he could get a taxi there."
At the taxi rank, they spotted the killer, stood with abunch of students awaiting he next taxi. Paul gunned the car and aimd right for him, scattering students and sent the man running down a nearby alleyway. Both men jumped out of the car and ran after him, but lost him in the dark.
"Use your pistols flashlight, if you find him, shoot him. He's not shy about shooting people, and neither should you."
"Got it." James pulled out the gun, and fliped on the under-barrel light. The pistol, if it could be called that, was a Casssul hunting pistol. And although he had plenty of Range time, this would be the first time he had ever fired it at someone.
The alleyway split off at a junction, Paul went left and James went straight on, as the right was a shallow end, and clear of any doors or obstructions. The alley in front of him was littered with biffa bins and a works van, with plenty of door shallows to hide in, he was checking an open bin when he heard a scrape behind him, he turned in time to see the killer raise his weapon to head height and aim. The next two seconds were a blur, but when James realised what had happened, it was all over. At his feet lay the killer, five large holes punched through his body, exposing metal plate, circutry and innards to the world. Paul was at his side as well, taking in the scene. Three small holes were punched into the bin nearby, where james had been stood, all at head height, all of which had missed there mark.
"Good work, nice to see i didn't waste all that tme training you."
"What in fucks name did i just kill?" Asked James, out of breath.
"Ah, well, kill is such a loose word. Just say you shot it and have done with it. You cant kill something that doesn't live, although this comes close, it's a cyborg, a human cyborg by the look of it."
"What?"
"A human who's had his brain, heart, lungs and other organs bagged and hooked upto a robotic body. Take a close look at the face, it doesn't just look like Burt Renolds, it looks exactly like him."
James looked, and it did.
"But if he's a robot, er... cyborg, why did he die so easily?"
"That gun your holding is a fifty calibur pistol, with carbon-steel tipped armour peircing bullets. Standard issue, as most things you'll have to shoot at with it are bloody tough. Didn't you think it was odd that you were being handed such a bulky and difficult weapon to begin with? The recoil alone took you a month to get used to."
"I know. But i've never used a gun before, so i didn't have a lot of reference."
"Well, those bullets are designed to go throught tank armour, brick walls and beyond, take a look at the wall facing us."
Five large holed bored into the wall presented themselves for inspection, and it was lucky that the building it was abandoned, as five large holes are hard to explain away in a one foot thick wall.
"Don't worry, a teams already on there way to clean up, in the mean time, back to base." said paul as he checked the body over, and recovered the missing disc "Time to see if our friend died in vain."


<<<Continued, after these messages>>>

 

[Hakansson]

Im so like.... how the hell?, How can he be arsed to type all this :> , but then again , im lazy

 

[Ezteq]

i always was suspicious of burt reynolds tbh only some one that was programmed to do so would have been in that "cop and a half" movie.

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Well to be fair, Terminator was a good film, but with one flaw...swartze****** (or however you spell his damn name)
The whole this about the terminators was that they were inconspicuos, where as whatshisname is six bloody foot tall and built like a browned condom filled with walnuts. And in a nation of short asses, he stands out just a bit. Now, the cyborg i invisage, is just a little bit more inconspicuos, looking like someone who is below average height, looks old, and has the skin of a leather handbag.

Burt Renolds would blend in better, so remember, vote Burt for Terminator 4.

 

[Ezteq]

rofl hmm but does he land nekkid on the planet like arnie cos tbh i'd rather be faced with schwarzenegger's bod than burt reynolds i've seen striptease man!!! ewwww but its good reasoning, now gerron with it and gifv me next installment!!! <cracks whip> mush!

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Sorry bout the weekend, was at the local Park opening. Was on the news (i was i shot for a few seconds too, damn) Prize for the first person who can guess where and which person i was.

<<<Continued>>> (Noisy neighbours, fucking kids riuning your neighbourhood, idiots using your road as a racetrack? Buy explosives! Yes, explosives take out 90% of your problems, and scares the shit outr of the other 10%. No need to call the police, Someone else will panic and do that for you! Yes explosives, for a world thats pushing it's luck!)


"You have got to be fucking kidding me. God-damn cyborg's running around!" Said James.
Both men had returned to the base and had just filed there reports. They now sat in the canteen, drinking strong Jamacan blend rich roast coffee. It was one of those little luxuries that made the shock of new information bearable, and gave his system enought of a counter shock to stop him from locking up, both mentally and physically.
"Unfortunatelly it's true. We have some tech like this floating around for years, sometimes centuries. Your going to have to accept that human thinking only moves along en mass, once one individual makes somethingg to make there lives easier and distributes it enough. If an isolated pocket of people make enough advances without the rest of the world, then the tech wont be well known if at all." Said Paul.
"Who in gods name would be able to create bloody cyborg's though? We can barely make reiable robots."
"The Atlantiens for a start. The roman empire was fationed after it, although the architects never saw the place. Everything from running water to electricity was available freely there when plato walked it's streets. And although rome tried to mimic the fabled city, it never realy succeded."
"So your saying that the atlantiens created cyborg's?"
"Not then no. Look, i'm building to something here. Atlantis was more of an ideological society than a city. When the outside world was ready to sack and pillage the city, the people just moved off, mostly in a flotilla of submarines. Took all the equipment and blew the rest up."
"Hang on, surely there would have been some evidence?"
"There was, it's called the 'Legend of Atlantis'."
"But, what about the remains of the city, wiring, and all the other leftovers?"
"Well, solid, well taken care of stone and masonary would have been nicked to make other structures, and copper was quite populare for adornments, as well as other things. All the rest was just lost to time, god knows where it went."
"So, hang on, were did the Atlantiens go?"
"Italy, France and Spain. Some later came to England and Scotland. Mostly they kept to themselves, deciding to keep there technology idden and secret, helping society along, whilst improving on there devices and tech over the centuries. They'ed mingle with the rest of the world, and breed with them to keep the stock up, but mostly keeping to themselves. We made some astounding leaps during the Renesaunce, you ever wonder why?"
"So, these cyborg's... there some sort of advnced tech thats been around for years?"
"Yup, the Atlantiens no longer exist as a race anymore, most work as part of the hight tech world in the form of corporations and manufacturers. There also a part of our organisation, although they themselves do not run it. Some of ther etech does get out, and the cyborg's are one of those little tid-bits. We think that one of there communities has been either breached, or that one of them is selling his services. Either way, we have to put a lid on it soon, as this has been a problem for some time now."
"Ok. But who was that guy? A volunteer os some poor bastard used as a guinie pig?"
"He was a volunteer. MMind control over a cyborg weakens it's effectiveness, so the idiots have to do it willingly. There then carved up, and there vital organs put in bags of suspention fluids to keep them safe and healthy, linked together by wiring and a fake circulatory system. The whole thing is them linked to the endo skeleton, and the hydrolics and other bits are added. The end result is a cyborg not to disimilare to the terminator, except this one has free-will. The 'skin', if it can be called that is a bio-degradable polimer substance, acts like real skin, but starts to degrad immediatelly. Takes about three days before it has to be changed, but thats only added if it has to go outdoors in public.
"The whole thing is kept going by a vitamin enhanced resin thats fed into the unit, as well as bio-boosters, combat stimulants and psychotropic drugs. The whole unit has abut five to six months, tops, them the organs just give up. The shock and stress are to great for them to handle and they just die. Of course, whilst there going, there harder to kill than a tank, mostly dur to the size and speed. I recon' the poor sod tonight was near his end, otherwise you could very well be dead, he had plenty of time to shoot you in the back, or even crush you skull, so he was probobly feeling the effects."
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. I'm touched."
"Don't take it too personally, first time i had to take one on, we ended up loosing two men, and had to blow the damn thing to shreds with a hellfire missile. Lucky for us, we were outside a population centre."
"So what now? The disk had all the information on it, the cyborg's dead and the network is secure. Job done?"
"Nope, it has only just begun. We should have the guy's genetic markers in the morning and we'll cross reference it on the database. Find out who he is, and with any luck find out who hired him. Then we the work realy begins. Oh, by the way, last night cover story is that a murderer who was planning to attack and kill several university students was aprehended my members of the flying squad. Good job."

 

[Ezteq]

Sorry bout the weekend, was at the local Park opening. Was on the news (i was i shot for a few seconds too, damn) Prize for the first person who can guess where and which person i was.
."

gifv screenie!! :touch:

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Would do except there are none, only one with me was on the six o'clock news. No screen shot (that i know of) will look tho.

 

[Ezteq]

dude when you gonna finish this thing? i hate when people leave stuff half comple................

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Sorry i've left this hanging, but tomorrows my b-day, and i've been doing DIY all weekend so i wouldn't have to do it tomorrow. This sadly didn't work. There WILL be an update, just not till tomorrow night (ish). On the plus side, i will be getting pissed this weekend, with any luck. Have also spent some time re-watching Usual Suspects, blood gret film it is, especially right at the end. The look on the cops face is priceless, especially with all the voice overs running at once. If you havent watched it, i realy do recommend highly.

Anyway, till tomorrow evening, keep watching the skie's...

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Right, it turns out today that we can only get 1 person at a time into the hallway for decorating (several bulky jobs, not much room to manuver). So im working on this early, tis now 11:50am, been awake for about an hour (police helicopter last night in my area, no sleep till 6am). Anyway, what were our two miscreants upto......

<<<Continued>>> (The world is like an Oyster. It constantly makes shit, yet people buy it to look good.)

The Lab was a flurry of activity, with several tech's running around with various metalic parts from the cyborg, hooking them into diagnostic panels, whilst others were romoving the skin and tissue samples, leaving small pools of both synthetic and real blood. Working on the chest cavity was Carolyn, the tech james had seen on his first day, and had taken a real shine too. She was five foot eight, raven haired, blue eye's and nice arse, plus a razors wit and tight clothing. James was, as the term goes, smitten!
Carolyn looked up at the tw agents near the doorway.
"Which one of you is responsible for the excesive ventilation!" She snapped.
"The youngster, like you have to ask." Replied Paul.
"Well, thankyou mister hot shot agent. The control interface is history, so we have no computer framework to investigate, and the regulator for his blood and fluids was hit. He's fubar, dead on site. So thankyou for getting me covering in synthetic crap for nothing."
James didn't take offence, or even care. She was wearing an full body eviroment suite and stood behind three fold, reinforced sheet glass. Plus if she was realy offended, she'd be swearing alot more.
"What about the backup?"
"Were digging it up now. Lucky he didn't shoot it in the groin." She went back to her task, whilst both men stood in the observation suite.
"Whats going on exectly?" Asked James.
"The problem with some of these cyborgs are that they have recall protocols built in. Thats why it's now in bit's, it can't walk if it's got no legs. Althought the brain mite be dead, it can function for a short time shocking the body parts wit small dose's of electricity, keeping it going till it reaches a pick-up point. Once ther it shut's down till someone comes looking for it, and retrieves it. If we could have kept it alive, we could interogate it, and find out who employed it. The other way was to salvage to computer and check the memory for signatures or name-stamp's. Some sort of identifier at any rate."
"But the computers shot and the organics are dead, so why go for the backup? Surely that wouldn't have the data were looking for?"
"True. The backup is the recall device and body shocker. Not much there, except of course, the recall co-ordinates."
"Were going to ask the poeple who come looking for it?"
"Aye. It's going to be a little more involved that before. Were going to have to take in several squads of agents and assault teams to capture them, but it can be done."
Both men watched as Carolyn was fiddling about with the groin plate. A thick, silvery cylinder rose like a mechanical parody of a penis.
"Well, someone certainly held himself in high reguard." Said Carolynas she picked up a mechanical grip and clasping around the cylinder. She then yanked it off hard, pulling out several connecting wires in the process.
Paul frowned, James winced, and several male techs visibly shrunk a few inches, looks of mock pain about there faces. Carolyn looked about the place, noting the expressions.
"Well, at least they got the thinking part of the anatomy right." She said, mockingly.

It was now eight in the morning, an both James and Paul were in the main breifing hall. Several other agents, as well as five squad seargents were all sat, taking in the briefing. Carolyn had delivered her information, mostly about the cyborg's combat effectivness and notable improvements over other models, piddly crap realy. Deputy director Smith, the commander of the ministry in Lancashire was there, giving the main breifing.
"Now then, here's the bit you all need to know." Smith spoke without ceremony or grandure. Like many of the ministries agents, he tried to stick to the point. "The pick-up is to occur in two hours, near the CIS insurance building. Theres plenty of short, two too three story buildings, a tram track and plenty of wide alleyways around the area. There is also access to two main roads withing fifty meters, which means stealth is vital. I want silencers on al weapons, and taser attachments to all small arms, not to mention you will all be posing as local Armed Responce Units.
"Local constables have been warned to steer clear of the area, but not to pull out completely. They wont get under your feet, but they wont ignore a full on firefight either. I want containment, and one person left alive for questioning if things turn sour, but that doesn't mean you can go trigger happy on the rest. Clear?"
The rooms occupants all agreed at once, "Yes Sir!"
"Good. One last thing, the weapons on the body sugest that our metal friend was indeed a profetional at one time, sporting twin forty five calibure pistols, a nine millimeter handgun with a silencer, and an assortment of up-close delights for the diserning psychopath. Expect those coming for the pick-up to be well armed and armoured. Good hunting."
Close to ten o'clock, and the alleyway and all surrounding streets were, for a short period, the most heavily defended areas in the north. Snipers adorned rooftops, assault teams huddled inside buildings next to doorways, and agents remained hidden in the streets. Trash pickup and cleanup of this area didn't happen for another day, so they had plenty of cover for the operation. One of the Biffa bins was home to several agents, all armed to the teeth, whilst James and Paul were dressed in track suits and grubbby trainers sprting dingy caps and socks with the legs of the track suits tucked into them. James felt like a right prat, especially sporting the bottle of cider they had taken as cover.
"This is so goddam humiliating, I feel like such a twat."
"Do not worry lad. It's only for a while, and no-ne you know will see you wearing it. Well, except maybe for Carl, he subjested it by-the-way. And Carolyn, she couldn't stop giggling. How have things been going with her, any progress?"
"No comment."
"Shot you down eh?"
Silence.
"Did you even ask?"
"No, i havent had time." He lied.
"Ah, thats why eh. So it's not that your a coward around women then."
"Plus i have been told that i would have to clean up my flat first. She's a bit of a fickle one for a clean lab apparently."
"Realy? So your that attached t the dirt then?"
"Can we please change the subject."
Paul already knew what had been going on. James had been cleaning his flat for the last week since he'd been told about her fastidiousness about keeping the lab clean. He also kew that this only applied to the lab, and that her flat was a bomb site at the best of times. He hadn't has the heart to tell him that, or that Carolyn had been waiting for him to ask her out for a over two months. That, plus he had no intention of giving up this small peice of entertainment any time soon. It helped to pass the time on stake-outs or long days at work.

<<<To be continued>>>

Right, it's half one, time for food, and some decorating. Back in a few hours.

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Sorry, this realy hasn't been my week. Theif 3 is a touch outside of my computers range (the upgrade i promised myself that i STILL cant afford is all that stands in my way). My computers been crashing left right and centre, for no disernable reason (apart from breed being installed, now rectified). Anyway, theif being the thing thats had me in tears all weekend, crying like a little wuss. I'm not proud of it, but i like the goddam games.

Anyway, on with the story.

<<<Continued>>> (I said they were all just like a Tampax, cos there all just stuck up c*nt's: The Macc Lads).

A few minutes after twelve, a van entered the alleyway. All agents were notified imediatelly, all squads ready to pounce. However, the van just went on by, without stopping or even slowing down, and all squads went back on stand-by.
"So, no joy on the woman front, no advancement with Carolyn. Did you know that she's at lest three times smarter than both of us, a child prodogy, and with a family thats got royal connections. Rare breed indeed." said Paul after an uncomfortable silence.
"Look, ok, i havn't asked her out yet. And yes i knew all that. She's charming, witty and beutiful. What the hell would i have to offer her? Is that what you want to hear?" Snapped James.
"Nope, what i want to hear from you is when your going to ask. You've seen the way she is around her lab assistants. The abuse you get is remarkable, almost polite by her standards, if you needed any encouragement, thats it."
"Oh....er...."
"Think on it later, showtime."
A black car had entered the alleyway, and three men got out. All heavy set, all dressed in black business suit's. None carried any visible weapons, but kept close to the car as they walked over to teh dummy, ready to carry it off.
Agents and squads burst from there hididng places whilst snipers fired at the vehicles tyre's, blowing them all out. James and paul both got up and approached the group, weapons still holstered, but hands at the ready.
"So, who's in charge of these merry men?" Asked paul as they got to the nearest squad.
"Shorter guy with the shades, sir."
"Champoin." He replied, and addressed the smaller of the three "Right. It's fairly obvious what we expect, drop any weapons, hit the floor, hands on heads. Thats an order, by the way."
The two taller men looked about quickly, them without hesitation, jumped towards the nearest of the armed squadies. Barely a second had passed before the first volley of taser fire hit either man, there chests almost resebling a switchboard, all wires and pins sticking out at all angles. The leader was down instantly, taser fire knocking him to the ground and paralysing him instantly. The other two carried on, the tasers having no effect at all, smashing into the nearest squadie's, knocking them to the ground hard.
Before james realised it, one of them was pinned to the wall by smg fire, as on squad opened fire on him, tearing the outer skin away to reveal a shiny breastplate under his flesh. Before he could react though, the second had blindsided him, after throwing on one the squad members into his team mates. James was hit across the chest, and thrown several yards through the air before hitting a wall and slumping next to paul, who also had that 'just belted' look.
As both men tried to recover, the cyborg started to bear down on them, murder in his eyes. He picked out both men by the necks, pinned them to the wall and started applying preasure. Thats when his throat exploded in a shower of gore and metal shards, and dropped both men to the ground, and fell back trying to clutch it's neck, whilst it's head landed in pauls lap.
The other cyborg was suitably paralysed by the other squad, all it's limbs were scattered about or smashed to peices around it. The squadies started to pick each other up, whilst others assesed the wounded.

About an hour later, both men sat back in the briefing room. The op had been successful, although it could have gone alot better they thought. Three men badly wounded, broken arms, legs and one fractired skull, none life threatening. Two agents (james and paul), both with concusion and heavy bruising to there ribs and backs, none life threatening. Two cyborg's, one dead, the other busted up badly. And one human agent, suitable paralysed.

<<<Continued tomorrow, i swear>>>

 

[Conchabar]

rlly cba to read this .. y do they have to be soooo long

 

[Ezteq]

lol so after reading it you declair you cba to read it?.....ignore him binks, im enjoying this!

 

[Binky the Bomb]

OK, was going to post this yesterday, but there was a ufo documentary on tonight and thought "What the smeg, lets add some more ufo related stuff". The car journey has been deleted fom the origional, to be replaced with something more suitable (just read it).

<<<Continued>>> (Need an origional space alien? An orange post office box? Some tears of the virgin, for some biblical production? Call Fudgepackers emporium of oddities for all your prop's and movie nostalga.)

James returned home, suitably bruised and hurting in places previously unkown to him. He was told to take the rest of the day off while they examined the new 'borgs' and questioned there 'guest'. He gladly accepted and trotted off home at 2pm. The shots he'd been given and the patch he was told to wear must have been doing something right, as the pain had been knocked down a few notches on the trip back. He still took the train, too and from work, it seemed right somehow.
After sleeping for more than ten hours, he got the call at one am.
"How you feeling kid?" Asked paul.
"Terrific." He replied, as he started getting dressed. "Whats you eta?"
"Fifteen minites. We need to take a faster mode of transport, so get your ass outside on time. Tonight, we take the Express."

The Express was like a ufo spoters wet dream, all chrome and low level lighting, with strange sybols across it's surface. It was disc shapped, with a rectangle hull similare to that of a passenger plane, across it's curcumference. It bore a striking resembelence to the "Defiant" from startrek, a point that james made once he was inside it's rather homely lounge.
"Yeah, we gave the idea to 'em back before 'Next Generation' started. We were hoping they would use it as a sort of, romulan cruiser or something. Instead it got selved for more alien designs, but reused later on when they needed a small attack ship for the 'Deep space nine' series."
"Ah, so the resemblance is deliberate?"
"Sort of. Lockheed built this sucker for the space program, it was ment for vertical take-off and powered re-entry, but was scrapped because it ment taking hidrogen fuel with them, which limited payload. Still, bollocks to 'em. NASA's loss was our gain, a little re-engineering and some stealth tech later, and we have a mini-concord vessel."
"So what powers this thing? You managed to land right in the middle of Royton without making a sound? This Tora technology?"
"Nah. Earth built, earth tech. The 'Hover' technology is actually modified, hollow, copper conduate wiring. It's wound in a circle about thirty five times i think, with a power regulator pumping a few thousand volts of alternating current through it. Inside the thick piping, we push the engines fuel source, the liquid hydrogen, to stop it from melting.
"Don't know how this works but the current sets off some electro magnetic field that push's like a magnet against the magnetic field of the planet. Don't know the science, all i know is that we've been using similare tech in the states to make miniture UFO's on remote control. I remember we used a life-sized one in florida during the mid eightees."
"Your joking. You mean the incident near the swamp country were the whole neigbourhood saw it?"
"Aye," he chuckled "Scared the shit out of some locals, then flew it back to the garbage boat it was operated from. Landed on the garbage skip it was towing, and covered it in netting and trash. Then simply towed it out of flodrida and no-one batted an eyelid."
"Come on, someone must have seen it on that skip."
"Probobly. But hey, who'd beleive 'em. 'Yeah, damdest thing. Saw an intergalactic space ship land on one of them trash haulers on the river, and they towed it across the state line'."
"Point taken. So this thing is the origional space-shuttle them eh?"
"One of them, there were about seven different models, although to be honest this pobobly resembles the VC bird from two thousand ad more than the defiant."
James had to think back, it had been a while simce he' read those comics. And upon reflection, paul was right, it did closely resemble the VC starship.
"This was redeveloped from the Blackbird program. It can almost match it for speed, but is more manuverable at higher speeds, not that it's needed. Mach six is pretty much beyond the capabilities of any missile or camera. Not to mention the engines give off that electro-magnetic field."
"Ah, it destroy's magnetic film. But what about at a distance?"
"The hull vibrates ever so slightly when in VTOL, bluring the markings on the hull. When a picture is taken of those blured markings they spell out a phrase. Copyright Disney, nineteen eighty eight."
"Cruel twats." James simled, the irony was delicious, it was a perfect cover. No real space-craft would have a Disney copyright, plus most of disney's science fiction materials were sold off during the nintie's when they couldn't make a decent family sci-fi to match E.T.(*)
"Well, you have to cover your ass at times, and having several heavily armed humans running off, or even onto a ufo with the disney copyright across it's hull does wonders for you. Plus if someone does try to edit it, they have to somehow matchup the lines and blur exactly, almost imposible to do and easily detected when examined by experts."
James sat back and examined his surroundings. The lounge looked like someone had taken concord and ripped out most of the seating and decore, replacing it with a more military approach of drop down seating and harnesses, as well as some giroscope mounted chairs and a large console that both men now sat it. The upper deck was similare to this one, except it had no console, and both polits sat in the small open plan cockpit. They were all sat in the nose quarter, the rest of the craft giving way to engines and cargo space., as well as more seating for the squads.
"How many are onboard, appart fom us?"
"Five, four man squads. Two armoured vehicles and crew, about three in each. Plus two commanders, thats thrity eight men, plus us. The commanders will be sat up here, co-ordinating while we go in. The op is a little tricky here, were sent in troops to a factory district outside of birmingham, they came up with several million pounds in cyborg chasis, vehicles, telecommunication equipment and one spy-satelite, all set-up for multi-spectrum scanning and interface with every know communication channel known to man, even ours. All in needed was the codes and interface building to accept the new data, the same stuff we retrieved yesterday. After pissing about with various people who worked there, we found out several other site locations. They've all been raided, and more equipment seized, plus we got a location and id of who's behind this.
"Guy is called Jack Sprat, although his real name is Fergus Moorchild, aged forty, he's the rupert murdock of communications technologies and commecal satelite production. Only difference is, he likes the quiet life, and keeps his little empire under raps, very few people know about him. He came up with the origional idea for carera phones, these thrid generation handsets, about twenty years ago.
"Sunk millions into there development and had the whole thing planned since the mid eightees, got the previous generation hooked on mobile phones and had been slowly cultivating the elitism culture with handsets. There worse than both crack and alchohol, at least you can give them up without the social stigmatism thats brainwashed mobilephone users."
"Shit. So what the fuck does he want with the codes then? I thought we were up against spies or terrorists, not a business man."
"If this was columbia, he'd be a drug barron. Trust me, mobile phones are the next generation of drug, most people just dont know it yet. The electronic signals given off alter brain chemistry slightly. The more you use it, the more addicted you become, and as it's also a social trend, you don't realise it. Thats been his plan all along, technology addiction, the next generation of legal, damaging and fatal narcotics."
"Realy?"
"Probobly, thats what Carolyn says. Presonally, i think the guys a fucking fruitcake, probobly a nazi of some description and so far up his own asshole he can see his own lunch digesting. Fact is, we don't know much about the guy, but we've theorised from what we do know. He an ozzie thats got roots in scotland, so naturally he's got some goddam manor in the wilderness near the northern coast. Were to go in, find out what he knows, and either bring him back for questioning or kill him and send for local back-up units to sweep and clear. Oh, and to add a bit of a thrill, he's expecting us."
"Guards i take it will be cyborg's? You mentioned a warehouse full of them."
"We estimate he's got about twenty of the blighters online and with him so yeah, expect heavy resistance."
"Whats the plan, tactical insurence or brute force?" James had recently been reading up on his tactical survival manual.
"I though knocking on the front door might be more prudent."

<<<To be continued>>>

*= This is actually true, disney had a storehouse of sci-fi materials, including a few dry runs of a tron based cartoon. This storehouse of delights was sold off to various companies when they could no longer to store it or were unwilling to produce it. If you remember "Visionaries" then you have a good idea of what i'm talking about. It was good, well scripted and very eightees, but just not Disney (Thank God).

 

[Tilda]

Moooooooooooooooore please

 

[Binky the Bomb]

OK, if i'm good (lets face it, im not) i can have this wrapped up today. I start learning to drive soon and need to devote every waking moment too it (i'm even giving up on dating, i'm that serious about it). But do not fret, i have enlisted the help of a friend (well, will do tomorrow) to get my website sorted, so i can put this stuff there (do i hear a cheer from the mods?). Anyway, time for the advert...

<<<Continued>>> (Guest director today is Gerald, heavy metal rabbit of love)

The Express landed two miles south of the estate, and all teams disembarked, fully kitted out for war. The standard armament of choice was the silenced HK mp5, backed up with the standard issue Cassul pistol. Some were armed with large sniper rifles, the Grizzley BHK, anti-tank rifles loaded with high density armour percing shells.
"You sure we brought big enough weaponary? After all, im sure the foundation will be still intact after were finnished firing off this lot." joked James.
"Kid, these guns can take out a tank fromm five miles away, one shot, no more tank. The bullets there armed with can not only go throught the mansion, but will do so from here. As for the squadies, i only prey those are enough." replied Paul.
"You have to be joking here. Those mp5's will cut through those cyborg's with ease, why the glum expression?"
"Because it's serious playtime now. Before, we were up against machine's that were either failing or unarmed. These things will be top of the line, and armed to the teeth. This is a precision strike, and were the distraction while our guys o there jobs.
"There's also one last thing, the lapel pin in a micro transmiter to both the squads open link and the Express. Should you need immediate backup, just hoiller and they can aid you in seconds. Also, if we have to there's a scortched earth option, a plasma based air strike that the ship can fire as well as a presition cannon in the nose they can use for either sniping or area saturation. The code for them is red seven, then the target.
"One last thing, we cannot fail to stop this bastard, do whatever it takes to execute our orders. If we level this place without proof or some information on what his organisation is upto, were knackered and on desk duty till we come up with something, if we survive. Got it?"
"Clear. Take it the cuflinks will still grant remote access to electrics?" Jamesd had been issued with them last month, but had only used them in training simulation's. The technology wasn't new, just a small transmiter and receiver relay built into them whilst someone at a desk nearby did the hacking and codework.
"Aye, just remember that there range is limited, as is the power supply." He turned to the squads "Alright, you had the brief so here's the plan. He know's were coming, as do his guards. Take em out in a co-ordinated fasion, and try not to leave straglers. You snipers best have plenty of ammo cos your on overwatch tonight. I want external defences crippled by the time i cross the threshold, and guards eliminated soon after. Work front to back, both sides simultainiously, snipers promt the push's when they get into position, not before. Any questions?"
"What will you and the rookie be doing sir?" From one of the snipers.
"That rookie is your superior son, remember that. We'll be inside, talking shit with the target. Were both wearing the tension suits and packing standard issue, so were not going in completely undefended. Were distracting him whilst you take out the defenders. Like i say, we want him to know your out there doing usiness while we stroll on in, cocky and sure of ourselves. Fact is he'll jhave all the aces then, but thats what we want him thinking.
"Backup from local ministry holdings are on ther way, they'll be here in about a half hour, so we will do have backup in the wings. When he brings out his big boys, fall back, and let the local have some fun with em. They'll be posing as local army and police, so they will be coming with bigger toys than us, plus the local news hounds sniff around this place so if anybody does see us, they think were special forces backing up local authorities. Anything else?"
Nothing.
"Then off you go."
The squads broke off into the woods and the Express took off without making a sound and slowly glided above the treetops. Both men started down the road, and James checked is watch. It had taken just twenty minites to get fom rochdale to the northern tip of scotland.
"You know, as an agent, you should stop them saying shit about you, whilst your there. You re after all there superior officer." Said Paul suddenly.
"Er, well. I am a rookie. They've been with the ministry over three years and i've been there six months."
"True, but there not in charge because they don't have the necessary skills or charisma to pull it off. You do. They only lack respect because you don't make your presence known. Hell, you could have chipped in on the breifing, i'd have been glad of it. You know as much as i do, all it requires is a bit of authority in your voice and an edge of confidence."
"Ok, well, if we survive ill do that."
"When we survive kid, when. We're in charge cos were good at directing people and making decisions, but they handle the weapons cos there damn good at it. Every one a trained profesional and a crack shot, second to none."
"So emphesis the danger? If this is going to be easy, why not tell them that?"
"Do you want someone guarding your back who's slacking off because hr thinks theres little danger involved?"
"Ah...."
"Exactly. Besides, have you heard any of them since they entered the tree-line?"
James had to admit that he hadnt. The woods surrounding the country lane they were walking down were quiet, despite the thick foliage, the only things making noise were both men. It took about half an hours hard walk to the main gates of the estate. Both men tired from the long haul settled against the ornate grey stonework that seemed rather out of place on the remote road. In the background they could hear the ocean backing against the cliff face that the estate sat upon, and they could smell the salty sea air.
The mansion itself was rather grand, not a castle per say, more of a house built in the style of a fortification. James guessed that it was a manor house built some time over tow hundred years ago by some lord who had missed out on the middle ages and felt he should have something to make him feel like a king of old. It wasn't that bad, but the effect was ruined by the bay windows and double glazing, only recently installed. The green in front of the house was littered with bodies, non of them bleeding very much, and several vehicles, now laying motionless upon the grass. The area was lit up by lighting from the mansion and the lawn from various flood lights showning off the flower beds.
"You think the squadies got here early and got bored?" asked james.
"Probobly. Chances are they only got started five minites ago. There's too fewer bodies for them to be at this long. Plus there's some guards at the main doors untouched." Paul took out his phone and tapped in the comm code, and spoke "Paul to control, All teams status."
"All teams progressing as planned sir, awaiting your advance on the main doors. ETA, Backup in five minites. Whenever your ready sir's." Spoke the operator back on the Express.
"Will advance in five seconds, use remote monitoring."
"Roger. Out." Paul epaced his phone and began walking towards the mansion, James following without hesitation.
There journey to the front door took less than two minites, but the guards did not approach, instead took up a defencive line at the bottom of the steps leading upto the building. Several vehicles screamed out from around the sides of the mansion, only to first become inoperable when a large hole appeared in there egnine blocks, then to be riddled by bullets when the nearest ministry squad emerged from nowhere to rain silenced death upon them before disapearing once more.
By the time the third vehilce lay perfirated upon the lawn, both men, without breaking there stride at an point, were now comfronted by the heavily armed door guards.
"Go tell your boss that his guests for the evening have arrived, chop-chop." said paul to the nearest one.
"Our employer is expecting no-one this evening. Take your little army and leave, they can't help you here."
"And pray, why not?"
"There out of range, otherwise we would have shot us by now." Said the guard, cocking his assault rifle (a colt M14, for those lookiing up the weapons mentioned).
"Wrong old chap. You were left alone because you were not next in line on the target list." Both men registered the dull sonic boom as the bullet sliced through the craniums of the guards, shattering the metal and synthetic flesh orbs into nothing more that fine metalic dust.
"You know, i'm begining to wonder if this whole cyborg thing is a curse." said James.
"How so?"
"Well, we saw that coming a mile off. All of them stood in a perfect line to bar us entry, knowing full well there were snipers in the area, with there friends dropping like flies all around them. It's like a bad comedy moment."
"Thats why the ministry has that line at the bottome of it's crest."
"Humans are stupid! I had wondered. But it still doesn't explain these guys though."
"They started out as human, devoid of common sence and then by pain when there implanted. Trust me, these guys were not the most intelligent to begin with, they accepted large cash settlements for decresed lifespan's. Does that make any sence to you?"
"Nope. Not realy."
"Well then, no great loss."
Both men started up the steps to the main doors, ready for the next step of the plan.

<<<To be continued>>>

Ok, ok i didnt finnish it yet. Next installment will probobly do it. I got a week till i start my lessons so i'll finnish it in the mean time.

 

[Binky the Bomb]

OK, been trying to get the website up, Still waiting for my m8 to finnish (or start? not sure yet) the pics for the site. Also been doing more writing on the sly (too many bloody idea's, need to se if they work on paper). Still, this should do it for the Ministry for now, will update this but only when the site is up (FYI).

<<<Continued>>> (News Flash: It's been over 60 days since saddam hussain was caught by the US forces and locked away, and the world is still celebrating.)

They entered the house and were greeted by the butler.
"Sir is expecting you, please follow me." Said the butler, and led them through the antiroom, through to the Grand hall. The hall was two floors high, with a balcony running all around the room. It was decked out in typical gothic revalry, grey stone floors, massive fireplace, wooden furniiture and a large rug that served as a carpet. Cenred in the room was a large oak wood table, that could easily seat twenty. At the head of the table sat the man himself. The fireplae behind him was ablaze, casting shadows over the room and obscuring him partially in his high back chair. It reminded James of a bond villan.
"Well now, what do we have here? Some facist footmen from the 'Old World Order' come to assassinate there great threat on ther grip of the world?" Saidt the figure. James had to stop himself from laughting or saying 'gday bruce'. The vioce was a heavy Australian accent trying to sound Scotish, and failing miserable, making the figure sound like one fo the chipmunks.
"Were fom the gas company, here about several unpaid bills." Said Paul.
"Of course you are. So, the have sent you at long last, have i become that much of a threat? If i had known that a few computer codes would cause all this, i would have been more careful."
Bollocks though James and Paul.
"Still, no matter. You will not succed" several ominous clicks were to be heard all around them "I was anticipating your arrival for some hours now. You think i would not have had my assets under survaillance? You think i am incopetent?" He shouted.
James decided to keep his clever remark to himself, and let Paul do the talking.
"Well, to be honest, yes." Said Paul, rather relaxed in his chair. He put both his feet on the table and started examining his nails. He looked over to james and said "The jigs up, best relax and wait now." James made himself comfortable.
"Ah, youawait rescue from your friends outside? You think they will breeze in here and snatch you from my jaws? Unlikely. For i have set my best cyborgs out to despatch them."
"More tin cans for target practice.... nothing more."
"Ah, not these. They are battle chassis, armoured titans of steel and with weaponary and armour equal to that of a tank. All piloted by a brain and organs of my people. You were not expecting that eh?"
"Of course not, how could we have known." Said Paul, his voice deadpan.

Outside, five armoured titans burst from there docking area at the back of the estate, and began moving towards were the squadies were taking out the last of the guards. Each one was over ten feet tall, humanoid and painted black. There werw no glowing eye-peices, and flashy headlamps, nothing mounted to the frames but high velocity weaponary. The squadies saw them, and ran for the treeline perimiter of the garden, just as the main gates exploded, and several tanks burst though and headed straight for them.

Back inside, unaware of what was happening, Paul and James listened to the muffled background niose of the weaponary being fired outside, while listening to the ravings of the figure before them.
"Sounds like your friends wont be coming to save you after all. Oh well, such is life."
"What do you want!" Snapped Paul.
"I want those codes. I require the information protocols you use so i can program the satelite network to block them out. We have been under your thumb for far too long, you have messed this world up and i think it's time true democracy and freedom ruled the world."
"So going to china and korea and selling the idea of free elections didn't appeal to you then?" asked James.
"What do you mean?" Snapped the figure.
"He means that you got the wrong organisation pal. If you want freedom for all, try pushing for democracy in the communist states. There isn't any world governing power, just the idiots you see every day."
"But, the illuminati?"
"Dead for centuries, the organistaion fell apart as quickly as it was founded, no real leadership."
"Then the knights templar?"
"They created the world trading bank as we know it today, that all. They had sod all to do with politics."
"The World Dominion Order?"
"The band? Your kidding right. They got soul, but a shit bass player. Nothing to do with running the world though."
"The organisation fool." Snapped the australian.
"There record company? Seriously, thats all there is. You've ben reading way to many conspirecy pages."
The man got up, and james almost fell of his chair, whilst suppresing laughter. The man was all of four feet high, and looked like a tanned version of Alexi Sayle. He was dressed up like Hugh Hefner, even the robe, and wore an ill fitting grey wig. The effect was quite commical.
"No, this cannot be true... lie, all lies." He stormed out of the room, through a door to the side of the fireplace.
"And that is why we don't tell them the truth." said paul after the short man left.
"So what now?" Asked James.
"Well, backup for a start. Second level, about four of em."
"?"
A few minutes passed.
"But what if there all wiped out?" asked James
The sound of gunfire errupted from the balcony for a brief second, and all four guards fell to the ground.
"Nevermind."
"Ill go after the dwarf, you go for the mainframe. Try down stairs, the cellars." He looked to the balcony "Which squads are up there?"
"C and D, everyone else is cleaning up outside."
"Right, C with me. D with James. Sweep and clear the basement and sub levels, look for the lab if you can, find the builder of these tin plate fucks."
"Yes sir."

Down in the basements, James and the team moved from room to room quickly and methodically. The whole basement area was a storage room of wine cellars and burial grounds for old furiture. At the end of the network of rooms lay a wall with a Scotish Flag draped on a wall.
"This is a winde up." Said James as he pulled back the flag to reveal the doorway he was expecting. One of the squad members opened it up carefully, and entered, beconing those behind to follow. What lay behind was the lab, a workshop of metal and plastic's. Scattered about was the latest experiment, a rocket of some desription, with a miniture satelite displayed proudly in the centre of the room. Sat next to the worktable was a pale gentleman, with slightly pointed ears and grey hair. He turned to them to show almond eyes and green eyes.
"Oh! Are you the rescue team?" he asked meekly.

In the house above, Paul found the man standing in front of a computer terminal right out of the batcave. With more displays that should be allowed and a big screen in the centre, displaying the launch bay below. A missile was ready but the nose was empty. He was pounding his fist iinto the keyboard yelling for someone to ge tthe rocket loaded and ready for launch.
Paul raised his handgun to the man's head.
"Tony Douglan. I have orders from her the department of her majesty the queen to execute you this day, for violations of her communicatin network and the attempted violation of her treaties with world governing nations." The man turned to face paul. Bang! "Sentence served."
The squad waited at the door for orders, none wishing to interfere with that particulare task. Paul checked the monitors, he saw the empty lab, and the explosives that were now placed all around the room. He checked the others and found them devoid of life, appart from James team leaving the cellars with an atlantien.
"Time to leave gentlemen."

An hour had now passed and the grounds looked like an army testing range. Challenger tanks were parked in rows across the lawn, facing the rubble pile that was the mansion. James had witnessed the whole thing, paul ordered the property to be leveled, and the tanks just lined up and began firing into the structure, just as the Express hovered over the treeline and began firing. The whole conflagaration took less than two minutes to bring the house down, and it had sat smouldering since, while paul sorted out the troops and the necessaries. Gas line, experiments in communications going on, electrical spark, boom.
Dawn would be on them in about two more hours and the Express was parked a few feet away, loading the squadies on board. Two had taken bullet wounds from the titans just before the tanks managed to flaten them. Bits of the cyborgs were loaded an hour ago when it landed, the local forces only too happy to help. There had been about a hunded men as well as the tanks as backup, and all were now packing up and moving out slowly.
"Well, this was a right fuck up. Another conspirecy nut, this time with money, and ambition. The guy you resued was kidnapped months ago, covered up with a lad accident. We've contacted his family, we'll be dropping him off before we head home." said paul, now sttod beside him.
"Are all atlantiens vampires?"
"Nah, just a few. Mostly, you cant get a vampire to bite em, too much salt in the blood, or so they say. Nah, he was infected when he was kidnapped, used blood as a great tool for motivation. As for the ears, thats a new one on me. Chances are it's a mutation, but the local vampire's can help him with it, there are cures for those recently turned."
"So what now. File a report on the way home and treat the injured?"
"Pretty much, locals will take care of this. The guys database was on the disks i recovered so it's not a complete wasted trip. We've rescued a prisoner and stopped a meglomaniac and his schemes." Said Paul in a grandios hero voice.
"Aye, Batman, aye." said James, humour creeping into his own.
"To the Batmobile robin." He yelled, and ran to the express.
James returned the looks of all those around him, and though, 'what the fuck, i need something to take the edge off.'
He yelled "To the Batcave." and ran to the express.
Things can't get any worse, plus i still have to ask Carolyn out. Looks like it's another long day again.

END!

<<<To be continued, in a website, far far away>>>

 

[Ezteq]

/applause. nice one bud like it, so will we be getting another installment????

 

[Binky the Bomb]

Yeegads woman, buy a book! It will be some time before i get back to this, and even then, it will be "tweaked" somewhat.
However, i have enjoyed doing this, so probobly.

 

[Conchabar]

i would grace yee with my tallent although if i cba to read sum one elses why should anyone care to read mine i'll read it l8r on my good fellow

 

[Ezteq]

rofl sorry bud but you know us gals, never satisfied.

 

[Teiten]

very nice

 

[Tilda]

It was great
Next chapter soon please

Tilda