Project Sabertooth

almost lost consciousness when my head smacked into the corner bracing of the shed. But I knew if I released my hold, he would eliminate me. I put everything I had into pulling him backwards, and due to the fact he was relatively smaller than me, I hoisted his feet off of the salt floor. It's strange that, although it is called a Hyoid bone, why don't you hear it when it breaks? His struggle only lasted a minute, and I let his nasty little body fall to the floor on top of his packages. I had a millisecond thought of returning the C4, but then my fingerprints would also be on them, and since he was anyways laying on top of them, it automatically made him guilty! Then I ran as fast as possible back to the entrance of the main aisle, and then quietly made my way into the back of the group. The other three, trying hard to blend in with the crowd, had still not checked on their friend. They apparently never heard of the buddy system! So by the time they did turn around to look, I was already walking next to the older ladies and we were deep in a conversation about an afternoon program on television. They looked around for their comrade who should have already been back, and even gave the old ladies and I a good looking over, but I was as insipid as could be. Although I will admit that for some reason I didn't feel good about what I did. I was inspired by a simple photograph and with no absolutely positive knowledge that he was guilty of anything, I had already stamped him as a bad man and followed him. I could only reconcile myself that this time it was justified. About the others whose pictures I had, there I needed a little more Intel so that I'm not killing innocent men.

  After I had made it home, the day’s events had physically and mentally drained me, so I made it into the little store minutes before it closes, and purchased a few things for us. A package of Italian Mortadella, of which I would need to first remove the pistachio nut pieces, four already hard rolls for breakfast, and a beer to end today’s fiasco. The next morning I was woken by the brutal attack of getting my big toe bitten, which made me first hide under the blanket until Saber calmed down again. He wasn't against scratching the shit out of your face, if he was in his mood and got the opportunity! After breakfast we both went out to sit on the balcony, simply to relax and do nothing. The bothersome neighbor was also enjoying his balcony, till he started to rant and rave about the dead terrorist found in the Bad Friedrichshall salt mines. I didn't need to go downstairs and buy my own newspaper though, my neighbor saved me the money and time by reading the complete article word for word. Loud enough for his wife, who is too much of a cheapskate to buy a hearing aid. Saber hopped up onto my lap and made himself comfortable and I stroked his black fur which glistened in the morning sun, and being very careful not to run my hand over where his leg used to be. Petting a purring cat in the sun is totally relaxing, and after a while I must have fell asleep in my chair.

  1977

  After joining the army I went the easiest way and became a foot soldier. When we filled out the forms at the end of weeks of training, we had to put down two places where we would like to be stationed. For me it was an easy decision, California or Hawaii, because I've seen enough snow as a child to last me forever. So we got our orders and I naturally started to bitch about the fact that I was heading to Germany. “Why did we even fill out two preferred stations on the form when we get sent to the land of sauerkraut!” I had asked. The personnel officer looked up and answered; “I still have a slot open in Alaska if you want to trade off!” Sometimes I really do know when to shut my trap and accept things as they are. When I arrived in 'Good old Germany', I was assigned to be the chauffeur for the Colonel of the Brigade, who was at the time on leave in the US. I thought that I would have all sort of time on my hands till he returned, but I was sent to a special course to learn the language and customs of the land. And some of the customs were strange-ville! I had enough homework each day and each morning a test pertaining to yesterdays homework. The German lady was sure she could play sadist with my mind, but I picked up the lingo pretty quick! Except for the fact that they have so many different forms for the words: The, Mine, His, Hers. I guess she was satisfied with my scholastic abilities for when one day a man in jeans and a gray t-shirt walked into the room carrying a cup of steaming coffee, she said that I was ready. “Good, good! That pleases me that he is such an adept pupil.” He said. “I'm glad you approve, and normally one says good morning when entering a room!” I said. “Normally, when I walk into a room, either punctual or late, the majority all say the same thing!” He retorted. “And what would that by chance be?” I asked with a smirk on my face. He smiled and answered; “good morning sir!” I blushed as I stood up, getting ready to excuse my behavior, but he just waved his hand at me to forget about trying to say anything. “Soldier,” he said. “One day your arrogance will be the death of you, mark my words.” “Now report to the car park, tell them in a kind tone who and what you are, and have my car in my parking spot in exactly one hour.” What a wonderful start in my military career!

  Driving for the Colonel wasn't always that bad, for sometimes we would stop for dinner at a restaurant and he would foot the bill. But for the most part, it was a dead end job suitable for some country hick just serving his time out. The car had no radio. Nada, and even if it did, he wanted to rest his eyes while we were on the road. So it came about that I was way overdue for a haircut and he said that it anyways would take a couple of hours till he was finished, so I was to visit the barber. “Couple of hours!” I told the dashboard of the car as I made my way to the barber. “You always need more than a couple of hours, and I get to stand next to the car and pass the time of day!” Waiting at the barbershop, the barber was just shaving along the ears of a soldier when there was a terrific explosion. Out of the window I could see smoke and rubble tumbling down the mountainside approximately a mile away. I was too fascinated in the first second to realize that the barber had cut off the soldiers left earlobe! When I seen that, and that the barber was shaking worse than a recovering alcoholic, I left. Come what may, but I'm not going to lose my ear at the local barbershop! When the Colonel returned and seen my long hair, he said nothing. I just stood there looking in amazement as one blast after another on the mountainside. He was already in the backseat and asked me when I by chance might get in the car and drive. I said that; “the blasting is just so cool, better than the boring job of driving you around the countryside all the time.” “Shave your head and I will look into what I can do for you.” He said. The next morning my head was like a bald eagle, but nothing came from him about his offer. Till two weeks had went by, and when I reported into the office and grabbing a cup of coffee, he walked out of his office, handed me a paper and wished me luck. With my orders to attend the newly formed anti-terror school in my hand, I nearly wet my pants with joy.

  My doorbell rang, slowly bringing me out of my slumber. Nobody ever visits me, period. I could not imagine who would be ringing the doorbell, but upon opening it, the slandering ranting little old man was going on about how all of the others should be deported back to where they belong. “Slow down and tell me what you want.” I said. “Some dumb-ass stupid Turk wanted me to bring this to you, and I told him to go to hell on an ice cube” He said. “But you're doing it anyways, am I correct?” I asked. “Of course I am!” he answered. “He offered me €50 to bring it to you personally! Even from a Turk, fifty Euro is fifty good reasons to do it.” “Thank you very much.” I said and slammed the door in his face. It was a simple plain white letter envelope, which made me a little happier! I didn't need any more photos at the moment. I opened the envelope and after removing the single sheet of paper which was inside, I wadded the envelope into a ball and tossed it to Sabertooth to play with. It was a very short note from a computer printer, and it read; “Meet me tomorrow morning where you found Sabertooth. Do not ever come to the restaurant again. Will explain. Ishmael.” This was one of the worst things that could happen to me, because I hate waiting. And that I should never go around to the restaurant again made my alarm bells ring. Something terribly wrong must have happened that my presence there
was no longer welcome! And I hoped that it had nothing to do with the man I eliminated yesterday. With the knowledge that I had no knowledge of what is going on, the two of us spent the whole day together watching nonsensical programs on the television in the apartment. Yeah, time is a relative thing, and the day went by at the pace of the snail!

  I was in my jogging suit with my blazing blue name-brand running shoes, and as I jogged to where I had discovered the cat, there was nobody around. I got super paranoid and waited to catch a bullet from someone in hiding, but there was not a sound or a movement to perceive. After a few minutes, I figured Ishmael had played a practical joke on me and when I showed up at the restaurant, I would be the laughing stock from all of them. So I started to make my way back towards the apartment when I seen somebody standing amid the old pile of metal landing platforms. I figured that if I ran, I would catch the bullet in the back of the head, and that is just such a cowardly way to die! So, I ran directly to