Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Danté Beradrez, Brazillian Merc

14th July, 2010. 
I was assigned to protect Mr. Valleis's house, more of a labyrinth than house but never the less we were sent to protect his "house". I was stationed near the south entrance, directly leading into the jungle which had taken more lives than supported. It was relatively quiet, save for the mosquitoes irritating me to the point of near insanity; I stood there in the subtropical sun fiddling with my scope. I heard some radio chatter coming from the commander’s jeep.

 Bursting out of the door the commander stumbled on the door frame and fell, I was about to start laughing when he rolled and got back up. Nice. Answering the call with a discernable grunt he began to grow more serious and grave. Placing the radio down he turned to me "were leaving, tell Mr. Valleis that his money is no longer worth our time".

 As I walked inside to talk to our income I noticed he was standing near a window, his hands behind his velvet suit. Walking up the stairs he started to weep. Finally reaching him he turned to me, "I’m so sorry" he said with a choked up voice, he pointed to a pile of money and a handgun. Walking over to the pile he reached out with a shaky hand, picked up the gun and turned to me again "I hope we meet in the next life".

 Staring in my eyes with his tearstained, steely grey eyes he raised the gun. As he fell I noticed in the background, a mushroom cloud. I heard my comrades screaming to get to his bunker. Hah the old man knew this was coming. Piling into the bunker our commander made sure everyone was in he left to get some of our supplies I stood at the top of the bunker watching the shockwave reach our position, the scene looked as if a child was just stepping on the jungle as if it were grass.

1 comment:

  1. Each step in the narrative is a little piece of drama! Engaging and fascinating!

    P.A.

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