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ds_flashfiction2004-02-11 12:18 am
daughtershade.livejournal.com) wrote in ds_flashfiction2004-02-11 12:18 am
Entry tags:
Icon Challenge
Another Turnbull fantasy coming in at 1,397 words. I'd like to thank ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heuradys because not only did she create the icon the story is based on, but she helped me out quite a bit as I struggled to get it written.
Very Special Forces
The building carried the overwhelming scent of mildew. Ren grimaced at the smell but continued to move silently down the partially lit hallway. The concrete block walls gave no indication of the building's purpose. As he came up on a corner, he slowed his pace and pushed his back to the wall. There was no sound as he waited. One quick motion brought him around the corner, M-4 Carbine rifle raised. Another blank, partially lit hallway stretched out before him. Ren controlled his breathing and began moving again. He kept one shoulder to the wall because there was no cover. Ren almost wished that there was no lighting in the hallway, that way he'd at least have an advantage with the night vision goggles that were perched on his head.
At the first doorway he paused again. With one swift movement he kicked in the door and covered the room with the barrel of his gun. It was empty, so he moved to the next door. He repeated the sequence only to find another empty room. There were a few cardboard boxes on the floor. The sound of each forcefully opened door brought him closer to being discovered, so he did not take time to check the boxes' contents. Back to the hallway and he was quickly moving forward toward the next door. There was a faint hum behind its frame. Ren wiped the sweat from his left hand onto his black pants and readjusted his hold on the grip under the barrel. Two quick breaths and he was kicking in the door. The stock was tight against his shoulder and he saw the room through his sights. A panel of some sort of electronics covered one wall. A chair was sitting empty next to the displays.
Ren moved into the room and checked the small screens. It appeared to be a security system, but there were far too many buttons and extra electronics for it to be just that. The screens were blank and he had no idea what switch would activate them. Plus, he needed to worry about security measures. It wouldn't do for him to flip something at random and get discovered.
Ren, once again, moved back into the hallway. There was one more doorway to go on the hall. He slid to the opposite wall and moved toward it. The door was open this time and he went in low just in case it was occupied. Again, there was no one. The room was part storage, part office. Another door stood in the corner. Ren was sure he could hear sounds on the other side. He slipped past the desk with gun raised. The door opened outward. He had no choice but to open it normally. He reached out slowly and took the knob. One quick pull and lunge, and Ren rolled into the room with his M-4 raised.
The older gentleman behind the wooden desk raised his eyebrow at the unique entrance. Ren kept him sighted, but it didn't seem to faze the man.
"Can I help you, son?"
"Don't take your hands off the desk. I've got you covered."
"Yes, with a plunger."
Ren looked down at the wooden handle. With a sigh he pulled the suction cup off his shoulder and set the plunger on the floor. He reached up to adjust the safety goggles that had come askew on his head during his tuck and roll.
"That's quite an outfit you have there," the gentleman said
Ren glanced down at his black combat boots, black cargo pants, black shirt, and black field vest with numerous pockets.
"It's very..." the man continued, "monochromatic. Alleviates that whole matching problem, I gather."
"Yes, sir," Ren replied looking around at the rustic cabin he seemed to have found himself in.
"How exactly did you get in here?"
"I'm not sure, sir. Where is here?"
The man rose from his desk and moved around to help Ren off the floor.
He replied, "Well that's a tough question to answer, son. I'm not sure you'd understand."
Before Ren could make sense of that cryptic statement, a loud thump echoed through the room. Ren and the man exchanged a glance.
"You should probably check on that, son. It might be an intruder."
"Or it could be a secret government ops team here to wipe out anyone with true knowledge of the aliens," Ren said glancing at the door and biting his lower lip.
The older gentleman gave him a strange look, but that was something Ren was used to. He picked up the plunger and set it back against his shoulder.
"You'd better come with me, sir, for your own safety."
"Very well. Let me just get my hat."
The pair carefully made their way back out into the office with Ren in the lead. He glanced down and was happy to note that his M-4 had returned. He let his finger caress the trigger as they stepped back out into the darkened hallway. A shuffling sound could be heard further down. Ren continued his recon. They drew toward the T intersection at the end. A dark shape darted across startling them. Ren automatically pulled his trigger, but nothing happened. He stared down at the M-4 with a frown.
"I think the feed is jammed," the man said quietly.
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me, son. If it's one thing I know, it's imaginary guns."
"Well, darn it! Pardon my language, sir."
"Quite understandable under the circumstances."
Ren kept moving forward while trying to unjam the gun. He was still keeping his shoulder to the wall, but the older gentleman was walking down the middle of the hall as pretty as you please. They reached the intersection, but Ren still couldn't get the M-4 working. He'd just have to fake it.
Ren nodded to the man who returned it and stepped behind him. He counted to three under his breath and stepped out with the gun raised.
"Don't move! Drop your weapons and kiss the floor!"
Ray spun around with a yelp.
"Geez, Ren! Give me a heart attack, will ya!"
"State your name, rank, and serial number!"
Ray put his hands on his hips.
"Get that plunger outta my face before I make you swallow it, freak."
Ren glanced down to see wood again and swallowed hard. He glanced behind him and noticed he was alone. The lights suddenly flipped on and illuminated the Consulate lobby. Ren put the plunger down.
"I'm terribly sorry, Ray."
"What's with the get-up?" Ray asked.
Before he could answer, Constable Fraser came up the back hall. He gave Ren a nod before turning to his partner.
"I found the circuit breaker. I'm not sure what made them go off."
"Canada may be nice, Frase, but you're wiring is for shit."
"Language, Ray."
"Whatever, I was trying to get Turnbull here to explain his sudden fashion choice before you interrupted."
Fraser seemed to just notice Ren's all black ensemble with a slight lift of his eyebrows.
"I was only doing what you asked, Ray," Ren explained.
"What was that?"
"Well, Ray, you said to go commando."
There was a slight pause as Ren's words sunk in. Suddenly, Ray was snickering softly and it grew into a loud guffaw. Neither Canadian seemed to understand what exactly was wrong with the Detective.
"Ray, Ray, Ray!" Fraser yelled finally breaking through the laughter.
Ray gasped, "What?"
"What is so amusing?"
"I said that when Ren told me he hadn't done his laundry yet this week. These tickets were too important for him to skip the show just to do his whites, so I told him to just go commando!" Ray finally got out before breaking back into chuckles.
"I don't understand, Ray," Ren said. "Didn't I do what you asked?"
Ray finally got himself under control and grabbed a Mountie with each hand. He pulled them toward the Consulate door.
"I'll explain on the way. I can't believe as long as you've been here that you guys haven't picked some of this stuff up."
The door shut quietly and the lock clicked as it was turned. Bob Fraser stood at the bottom of the Consulate steps shaking his head. He picked up the discarded weapon and muttered, "Yanks" before putting the suction cup to his shoulder and making his way back down the hallway.
heuradys because not only did she create the icon the story is based on, but she helped me out quite a bit as I struggled to get it written.Very Special Forces
The building carried the overwhelming scent of mildew. Ren grimaced at the smell but continued to move silently down the partially lit hallway. The concrete block walls gave no indication of the building's purpose. As he came up on a corner, he slowed his pace and pushed his back to the wall. There was no sound as he waited. One quick motion brought him around the corner, M-4 Carbine rifle raised. Another blank, partially lit hallway stretched out before him. Ren controlled his breathing and began moving again. He kept one shoulder to the wall because there was no cover. Ren almost wished that there was no lighting in the hallway, that way he'd at least have an advantage with the night vision goggles that were perched on his head.
At the first doorway he paused again. With one swift movement he kicked in the door and covered the room with the barrel of his gun. It was empty, so he moved to the next door. He repeated the sequence only to find another empty room. There were a few cardboard boxes on the floor. The sound of each forcefully opened door brought him closer to being discovered, so he did not take time to check the boxes' contents. Back to the hallway and he was quickly moving forward toward the next door. There was a faint hum behind its frame. Ren wiped the sweat from his left hand onto his black pants and readjusted his hold on the grip under the barrel. Two quick breaths and he was kicking in the door. The stock was tight against his shoulder and he saw the room through his sights. A panel of some sort of electronics covered one wall. A chair was sitting empty next to the displays.
Ren moved into the room and checked the small screens. It appeared to be a security system, but there were far too many buttons and extra electronics for it to be just that. The screens were blank and he had no idea what switch would activate them. Plus, he needed to worry about security measures. It wouldn't do for him to flip something at random and get discovered.
Ren, once again, moved back into the hallway. There was one more doorway to go on the hall. He slid to the opposite wall and moved toward it. The door was open this time and he went in low just in case it was occupied. Again, there was no one. The room was part storage, part office. Another door stood in the corner. Ren was sure he could hear sounds on the other side. He slipped past the desk with gun raised. The door opened outward. He had no choice but to open it normally. He reached out slowly and took the knob. One quick pull and lunge, and Ren rolled into the room with his M-4 raised.
The older gentleman behind the wooden desk raised his eyebrow at the unique entrance. Ren kept him sighted, but it didn't seem to faze the man.
"Can I help you, son?"
"Don't take your hands off the desk. I've got you covered."
"Yes, with a plunger."
Ren looked down at the wooden handle. With a sigh he pulled the suction cup off his shoulder and set the plunger on the floor. He reached up to adjust the safety goggles that had come askew on his head during his tuck and roll.
"That's quite an outfit you have there," the gentleman said
Ren glanced down at his black combat boots, black cargo pants, black shirt, and black field vest with numerous pockets.
"It's very..." the man continued, "monochromatic. Alleviates that whole matching problem, I gather."
"Yes, sir," Ren replied looking around at the rustic cabin he seemed to have found himself in.
"How exactly did you get in here?"
"I'm not sure, sir. Where is here?"
The man rose from his desk and moved around to help Ren off the floor.
He replied, "Well that's a tough question to answer, son. I'm not sure you'd understand."
Before Ren could make sense of that cryptic statement, a loud thump echoed through the room. Ren and the man exchanged a glance.
"You should probably check on that, son. It might be an intruder."
"Or it could be a secret government ops team here to wipe out anyone with true knowledge of the aliens," Ren said glancing at the door and biting his lower lip.
The older gentleman gave him a strange look, but that was something Ren was used to. He picked up the plunger and set it back against his shoulder.
"You'd better come with me, sir, for your own safety."
"Very well. Let me just get my hat."
The pair carefully made their way back out into the office with Ren in the lead. He glanced down and was happy to note that his M-4 had returned. He let his finger caress the trigger as they stepped back out into the darkened hallway. A shuffling sound could be heard further down. Ren continued his recon. They drew toward the T intersection at the end. A dark shape darted across startling them. Ren automatically pulled his trigger, but nothing happened. He stared down at the M-4 with a frown.
"I think the feed is jammed," the man said quietly.
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me, son. If it's one thing I know, it's imaginary guns."
"Well, darn it! Pardon my language, sir."
"Quite understandable under the circumstances."
Ren kept moving forward while trying to unjam the gun. He was still keeping his shoulder to the wall, but the older gentleman was walking down the middle of the hall as pretty as you please. They reached the intersection, but Ren still couldn't get the M-4 working. He'd just have to fake it.
Ren nodded to the man who returned it and stepped behind him. He counted to three under his breath and stepped out with the gun raised.
"Don't move! Drop your weapons and kiss the floor!"
Ray spun around with a yelp.
"Geez, Ren! Give me a heart attack, will ya!"
"State your name, rank, and serial number!"
Ray put his hands on his hips.
"Get that plunger outta my face before I make you swallow it, freak."
Ren glanced down to see wood again and swallowed hard. He glanced behind him and noticed he was alone. The lights suddenly flipped on and illuminated the Consulate lobby. Ren put the plunger down.
"I'm terribly sorry, Ray."
"What's with the get-up?" Ray asked.
Before he could answer, Constable Fraser came up the back hall. He gave Ren a nod before turning to his partner.
"I found the circuit breaker. I'm not sure what made them go off."
"Canada may be nice, Frase, but you're wiring is for shit."
"Language, Ray."
"Whatever, I was trying to get Turnbull here to explain his sudden fashion choice before you interrupted."
Fraser seemed to just notice Ren's all black ensemble with a slight lift of his eyebrows.
"I was only doing what you asked, Ray," Ren explained.
"What was that?"
"Well, Ray, you said to go commando."
There was a slight pause as Ren's words sunk in. Suddenly, Ray was snickering softly and it grew into a loud guffaw. Neither Canadian seemed to understand what exactly was wrong with the Detective.
"Ray, Ray, Ray!" Fraser yelled finally breaking through the laughter.
Ray gasped, "What?"
"What is so amusing?"
"I said that when Ren told me he hadn't done his laundry yet this week. These tickets were too important for him to skip the show just to do his whites, so I told him to just go commando!" Ray finally got out before breaking back into chuckles.
"I don't understand, Ray," Ren said. "Didn't I do what you asked?"
Ray finally got himself under control and grabbed a Mountie with each hand. He pulled them toward the Consulate door.
"I'll explain on the way. I can't believe as long as you've been here that you guys haven't picked some of this stuff up."
The door shut quietly and the lock clicked as it was turned. Bob Fraser stood at the bottom of the Consulate steps shaking his head. He picked up the discarded weapon and muttered, "Yanks" before putting the suction cup to his shoulder and making his way back down the hallway.
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(And that was one icon I was giving serious consideration to, actually....)
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Hey! I called dibs the first day. ;D I'd love to hear your take on the story though. (Besides H wouldn't let me do the forbidden shortbread one. Hee)
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I'd love to see T's version, too!
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"If it's one thing I know, it's imaginary guns."
*snerk*
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Yeah, I'm quite proud of that bit. :D
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You're absolutely brilliant!
*blush* Yeah I kind of am, huh? ;D heh
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I'm glad I got ot cheer you up then! Thanks!
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Actually, I bet Turnbull would understand completely.
Great story for me to find on this rainy dreary day down here in Texas. Thanks so much for the smile you brought to me.
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You're quite welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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Thanks for the fun read.
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Trust me, son. If it's one thing I know, it's imaginary guns.
Yay, Bob!
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Wonderful story and Cool Bob!
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Thank you kindly. I'm glad you liked it! :D Bob and Ren do work well off each other don't they? They need their own spin off. heh
Need I say more...?
Re: Need I say more...?
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:: waves ren/ray banner ::
you worked up to the plunger so well, and bob's remarks on knowing his imaginary guns... Good one!
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