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A Thrilling Tale of Espionage
(With a Dash of Organized Crime) by
Erik
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“Yes, it’s her birthday.” Michaels looked up to see the cabbie
watching him in the rearview mirror. No, it can’t be. Can it? he
thought. Greg checked the photo, and sure enough the man shielding
the view of the cameras was the cabbie. The rain began to slow, and
the strength with which it was striking the backseat window was
diminishing. The scrolling landscape was slowing too. Then Greg
heard the screech of brakes.
“What-?” he began as he turned away from the window, only to need
his eyes to quickly focus on a point quite near his nose, the point
being the barrel of a semi-automatic pistol. BAM! He instinctively
ducked to the left and jammed his palm against the Cabbies armed hand,
sending the weapon falling onto the dark floor of the cab, and leaving
a shattered hole in the window (rather than his face). Greg grabbed
the mans shoulders and thrust him with all his might through the
windshield. The Cabbbie landed unconscious with his torso sticking out
of the shattered window. Greg groped in the pitch darkness for the
gun, and after retrieving it clambered out of the car and onto the
road, trying to decide which way to go. He didn’t want to kill the
man, but knew he would eventually awake and drive down one way or the
other on the road. Greg compromised to shoot out the cab’s tires and
walk through a cornfield.
When the sun first began to rise Greg was walking down a completely
different road than he had been on before, the gun held limply at his
side, lazily smoking a cigarette. His soaking wet clothes were just
beginning to dry, much like his brain which was drying up of any ideas
as to how he could connect a lost kitten and an assassination attempt
by the Mafia.
*******
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2.2006
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