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Wednesday, March 16, 2011


I looked around me once to check. The security guard had just turned around the corner. Behind me, the camera was still aimed directly on the picture, and there were still a bunch of tourists. But that didn't matter any more.

My bladder was ready.

My hands shot out and grabbed the frame. As alarms blared out, I lifted it of the stand and slammed the Mona Lisa to the ground. The glass shattered after the third hit. I saw the first two guards run in and shot them both in the thighs. The next one got in the chest. I didn't have time to aim, as I was fiddling with my zip.

The coast was clear. And then...



I gave my willy a little shake to get rid of the last drops, and couldn't help but smile as the piss soaked through the painting. By now, the barriers had come all the way down, but it didn't matter. I reached into my pouch and pulled out a pen. One click, then two more, then one more and I threw it at the wall.


No more wall. Heh, had to thank Moni for that Birthday present. Passes any kind of security check.

I ran through the hole and down the corridor, towards the staff stairwell. One the way, I ran into a few more guards. I tackled into the first one, sending the two of us sprawling onto the ground. Even before we hit the floor, my fist had caved his temple in. I then got up to catch a police baton, pulling the guard in and using him as a man shield against a series of tasers.

My fingers still tingling, I reached into the now unconscious guard's belt and pulled out his own taser, zapping one guard in the neck and another in the face before I carried on running.

At that point... 

Argh! What the hell. Where am-

Yeah, I got jolted in the ass and he got loose for a moment. But I kicked him back inside and carried on. I turned around and pulled out a tiny knife that I had managed to smuggle in, and threw it into the last guard's right eye.

And then finally, the entrance to the stairwell was in front of me. Once in, I ran up to the lower basement, jumping into the hummer I had ready and parked. Lovely little tank a hummer is, its like they made it for breaking through roadblocks. Which I was doing as I was hastily wearing the scuba gear I had stowed in the side seat.

Roadblocks are really fun by the way. Two to  three cars and about half-a-dozen stupidly suicidal cops. I mean, these guys don't even use a spike strip. You think doing it on a T.V. screen is fun (not that I'm saying it isn't) but come on, try it in REAL LIFE. Its something else.  

Breaking through another one (yay!), I finally had the Seine in sight. The Seine by the way, is France's competition to the Thames, which I personally think is a way classier river. Trust me, I've been in both.


I shouldn't have said that, it kinda ruined it.

So long story short, I crashed the hummer into the Seine and then swam away before the cops would figure out where I had gone. I know I make this sound easy, but trust me, with the French it actually is.

Good times.

I've come to realize something. He hates me a lot, he really does. I... well, so do I. And he wants to kill me and I-

And I...

I don't know about that any more.

If I kill him, then whose button do I push. Who else's life could I completely destroy and then sit back and watch the fireworks? If I try someone else, then I know they will die under the pressure. Cause I will kill them. 

But him? I can't kill him. I need him. I need the freakin' bastard cause at the end of the day, he can still throw a joke, even if it sucks. And if he's not there, then who am I better than? You?

Of course I'm better than you.

But he. He can be a challenge sometimes. And every time I do something, it always is fun. He's never let me down that way.

I need him?

Fuck this, I don't know what the hell I'm saying. Just, just shut and let me...


He's in the room right now, and I know I can keep him in there for at least a few more hours. But you can not tell him anything I just told you. You can not.

You have to promise me.

Or I'll kill you.

I can't? Try me.

(gun clicks, trigger pulled, shot is fir-)





Hi! Let's hope you weren't as irritating as the last guy.... guess we have a lot to catch up on. Long story short...

Ah, I don't have time for this.

(gun clicks, trigg-)

Hey! Look at this! The first guy's still alive! Hold on, let me patch him up a bit, I think we can save him. That way I won't have to waste time explaining everything to you. 

Come on, get over hear. Now hold this right there, yeah don't let it go.


Good job! You'd make a nurse proud. Let me know when he's conscious, then I can carry on.





You're good? You can here me? Are you fine? Excellent. Well I guess that means we don't need this guy anymore.

(gunshot, body falls)

Now, where were we?

Oh yeah. Well, the truth is that this guy means something to me after all. I couldn't let him die because I needed him. And now, even though I could try to get rid of him, I don't wanna. I mean, I want to, but at the same I don't want to.

You get me?

Sigh, of course you don't. Just go and get some sleep. You look like you need it.

Sunday, March 6, 2011


Buenos Aires.

The second largest metropolitan city in all of South America and the capital of Argentina, the ankle of the world. The skyline looks damn beautiful at night. And here I'm standing on a barge in the middle of the Rio de la Plata, watching the waves kiss the shoreline as fireworks erupt gloriously across the sky.

What a night. 

The entire city, each and every building, is lit up like its a fucking competition. I can only hear the sounds of the waves hitting the side of the barge, and from the distant city, I can hear faint noises of a celebration, cheers and music that reach all the way to my ears. Argentina loves football, and a home win is always throws the city into ecstasy.

I heard footsteps as the katsa walked up to me, handing me a H&G. I cocked it, checked the sights once. The gun was perfect. Ready.

The katsa gave a patient sigh. "For once, Michael, use discretion. Not everyone we come across has to die."

"If they don't die," I lied, "Then they might tell anyone about us, who we look like. I can't take that chance."

The katsa frowned. "Why don't I believe you then?"

"That's not my concern. When do we leave?"

"The locals are parading their football team through the streets of the city. Many people are about, much celebration. We will need discretion and subtlety, Michael."

I ignored him. "The target?"

"Fredrick Ulrich is currently located in the Teatro Colon, attending an opera that is too end in another forty-seven minutes. He will then proceed to board his vehicle, a Rolls Royce Phantom, and will drive towards his safe-house. Given the current celebrations, there are five possible routes that his vehicle can take. We currently have scouts on each route. Once we have determined his choice, the strike team will move out and execute the mission."

"Execute the mission." I smiled. "Understood."

"We are not here to kill Ulrich, Michael. We are to transport him back to Israel where he will be held under trial for his crimes."

"After which you'll declare him guilty and spend three days thinking of the most creative way to kill him. He's going to die anyways, might as well save the cost of an extra flight ticket."

The katsa stayed silent. I turned around and looked back at the sky-line. The hypocrisy sickened me, but fuck it, who am I to judge?

Eight minutes later, he was back.

"We've got the signal. We need to move."


Two minutes later, a raft sped away from the boat, skimming over the waves. In it were four men, lightly armed, but ready to take on an army. The raft reached the shore and the four men got out, walking briskly up the beach and to the nearest road, where two bikes were parked and waiting. Coincidently, two of these four men each had a key that perfectly fitted in these bikes.

As we sped down the freeway, the voice in my receiver directing me where to go, I checked my Colt once. I had given the gun a quick clean on the barge, and I could see the barrel, in its holster, shining in the streetlight. Ah, my gun looks so damn beautiful.

Another right turn took us into thicker traffic. This was the road Ulrich's car was on, I could see the Phantom in the distance. We came closer and closer and I began to slow. I could feel a slight wobble as the katsa behind me stood up, grabbing onto my shoulders for support. Just as we reached the car he leapt, landing on the roof of the vehicle. The next second, the Phantom jumped forward in a burst of speed, and the katsa on top was almost blown off, gripping the sides of the roof at the last frickin' moment.

Revving the bike, I burst forward, dodging a bunch of cars and a truck filled with happy drunks, that took me right in front of the speeding Phantom. With almost no time left, I jumped.

And landed on the bonnet of the damn car.

Jumping of a bike and on a speeding car is not fun. But then again, compared to swimming under ice and crashing into a super-tanker, it kinda fits right in.

My feet had landed on the bumper for just enough time for me to plant my arms on the cars window-vipers, planting me flatly across the car's entire hood. The next second I looked up to see the driver raise a nasty looking pistol aimed right at my face. The second after that, I had to duck my head as the other katsa bike drew up on his side, and turned his head into pulp in a nasty burst of machine gunfire, along with the entire side window and windshield. I smiled a thanks and reached through the broken glass and grabbed the wheel. Ulrich had a panel between him and the driver, so I couldn't see shit beyond the driver's seat. 

I looked up to see the katsa on reach down for the handle of the car door as he tried to get it open. Just as his hand gripped the handle, the window he was leaning on burst in shards and bullets flew out, tearing his body to shreds. Now dead, the body just fell of the car on rolled onto the road, before a truck ran over it.

So Ulrich was armed, fine.

This is where the cool spy stuff comes in. If they know I told you this, they'd probably kill me. Then again, if they know I'm alive, then they'll probably wanna kill me either way, so I might as tell ya. They have this little device, shaped like a squash ball, that explodes and shoots this sticky goo everywhere. What this goo does, see, is that when it gets attached to any gun, then the damn thing clogs completely. You can't fire off a single round. 

I pulled one out of a pouch one my side after I slid through the window and into the driver's seat. I noticed the panel had a little door in it. I opened it and through the ball in before slamming it shut again.  A second later, a heard a slight pop, followed by a shout of anger. I smiled and drove on the other bike pulling up beside me as the katsa sitting shotgun jumped onto the side of the car and quickly got in. I felt some thuds behind me and some muffled shouting. Then silence, before someone tapped on the door panel.

I opened it and looked behind to see the same katsa from the barge's eyes looking back at me.

"The target has been subjugated."


He moved away as I slammed on the breaks, drawing the Royce to a halt. I got out, cocked the Colt, and pulled the door open, butting the gun against Ulrich's temple.

"Good evening, Ulrich. How was the show?"     

Thursday, March 3, 2011


Do you know what is in my hands? Yes, its a newspaper. Please let me read out to you what it says. The title is...



Well done.


No, no please tell me. Tell me the reasons for your latest escapade. A supertanker's entire crew killed off for what reason exactly? You were bored? You were horny? Just what was it exactly?

They needed to die.


... I take it you're not in a good mood.

Money... Money I can understand. But these men were innocent, they had done nothing wrong. WHY THE HELL DID THEY HAVE TO DIE!!!

Because if I hadn't, then I would have killed us instead.


Yes, yes I swear to God I would have. I need to kill, I fucking need to. And I'll do anything to kill someone, through anyways possible. Its a kick for me asshole, to know that I snuffed out that life, that I was the one who made that heart finally stop beating. I ENDED A LIFE! And that is the ultimate for me. I live to kill. And I'll never stop. I never will. As long as I'm there in this room, as long as we share this, I will kill. 

I will.

You're insane.

No, I'm just trying to have a good time. And Alaska was indeed a good time.

A boxing match with a grizzly bear is not my idea of a good time. Neither was the avalanche.

Ah, you're just cranky from all our time in the wild. We came back stronger from it.

Stronger? I never wanted to spend over year running through forests in the first place! Humans are built for cities, not the fucking wild! If even once during that time if I had taken control-

But you didn't.

And if I had any say in what you did-

But you didn't.

And the worst was that I could have prevented the whole thing in the-

But you-



Thank you.

I woke up on the side of a mountain, my body frozen and half covered in snow. A blizzard raged all around me, the wind trying hard to wrench me off the mountainside. I was covered in a fur coat, that was the only thing keeping me-

Wait, the fur coat.

Yeah, about that. 

The grizzly gave a single low grunt, before the bastard charged forward, spittle flying from its fucking jaws. I put two bullets in its chest, but that didn't slow it down in the slightest. I rolled right at the last minute, and the damn thing crashed into the tree behind me, at that time, I whipped out my knife and rammed it till the hilt into its back. I could feel the blade nick the spine, and smiled. 

The nest second the fucker turned around and swiped me in the chest. The wind kicked out of me,

You cracked a rib.

I cracked a rib. Oh yeah, and flew flying backwards before I passed out.

You did. That was where I came in. Waking up to a mad grizzly trying to kill you. That's in the top five. Easily.

Top five?

Top five of the most fucked-up situations you gotten me into. This makes number 3.

You're an asshole.

But seriously, a grizzly?. If some animal, then why not a raccoon or something like that? But no, we get grizzly on the menu. Main fucking course.

I scramble to my feet and draw the colt again. This time I pump the entire magazine into it. The beast lets out a roar of pain and stumbles. Once. Then its back on its feet again, just as fast. Now I'm running through the forest, and I can hear that bastard running behind me. Its catching up. Few more minutes and I'd be fucked.

Then I saw salvation. A tree, with branches low enough for me to climb. I was halfway up in seconds, and then looked down.

That bastard was right behind me. Yes, I knew bears can climb, but when one is chasing you down, you're brain doesn't really have time for general knowledge. His claws were about to rip out my leg when I jumped off and fell to the ground. I let out a scream as I felt my ankle snap. I fell to my knees gritting my teeth in pain. I could feel the ground shudder as the bear fell to the ground behind me. I couldn't do anything, me leg was on fire. The bear had me.

I turned around, and the bear's head was right there beside me, its glassy eyes staring sightlessly at me. At first I didn't understand, but then I saw the blood staining the grass around it and I realized. With all that adrenaline, the bear's heart had pumped out enough blood through it's wounds to finally kill it.

Bear killer! Hurrah!

Shut up. But why the hell was the bear attacking us in the first place?

I threw a rock at it.

You through a... YOU THROUGH A ROCK AT IT?! YOU FUCKING- ah, I shouldn't really expect anything else by now. But what the hell were we doing in a forest.

Hmm... let's see... After crashing the supertanker into the port, I fled to the city, grabbed some stuff, killed some folks, and then hit it for the woods.

So anyways, you killed the bear, then I'm guessing you spent a few days before I came back?

Almost three weeks. I nearly starved a couple of times and was lost. Came across a bunch of weird looking berries, wasn't sure if I should have eaten them or not. But just as I was about to bite one, a moose came and ate a bunch of 'em. The next moment it heaved over and died. I decided to throw the berries away.

Good choice.

Where did the mountains come from?

Saw 'em on the horizon. They looked kinda cool. So why not? I reached there in a month, trekked alongside a river that lead all the way up till the hills. From there, just made my way higher and higher.

So you could kill us.

No, because up there, above the rest of this crap and bullshit I finally found a place of silence, where I was forced to survive in one of the harshest places on this mud ball. I did it, even you bloody did.

This made us stronger.

I almost died of hypothermia. Fell on the climb back down. Fractured an arm. Still somehow, I made it. Our left arm never set after that, you know. The last three fingers never set back straight. And the avalanche, oh, the avalanche.

I was walking down the side of a mountain which decided to fall of the mountain. I was swept across hundreds of feet in a flurry of snow, before an especially hard piece knocked my out. When I came too,only my fucking feet were sticking out. It took hours for me to get out, and still I was half delirious when I finally crossed the snow-line.

I do not see 'stronger' in this.

Which is why I will always be the better of us.

The only reason we're still alive is because of those lumberjacks who found us. And once we're healed, you hack them to pieces with their own axes.

Don't you see the irony in it?

Irony my ass. You and the Joker should get a room.

Probably, but then you'd have to watch.